Bridging Diversity: Nostalgia for a 1950s British Pub

People often inquire, “When did you first become more aware of diversity issues and realize that EFT needed to explicitly address them?” The answer is challenging to pinpoint. I believe I was somewhat naive in recognizing the full extent of the problem within North American society as a whole. Why was that? Primarily because, in many ways, I had grown up in a community where diversity was taken for granted—an English working-class pub in a small town outside London.

Class was the predominant dividing line in English society, and I find the arguments presented by Wilkerson in her remarkable book, “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontent”, very persuasive as it provides a comprehensive understanding of racism and inequality. However, reflecting on my childhood, what stands out is that within our pub, irrespective of class distinctions, there thrived a bubble of goodwill, equality, and openness to others.

Some of the cast of characters in the pub drama, as I remember them, were incredibly diverse. Among them were:

Robbie, in his dirty raincoat, sells newspapers on the corner, and my mum often treated me to breakfast with sausages and eggs from him.

Sid comes in every night at opening time, crying about his deceased wife. My dad comforts him, pats his hand, and pours him a port.

Bill, who has a plate in his head from the war and becomes aggressive when he drinks. He believes little girls enjoy teasing, so we were sort of enemies. I kicked his shin when I could.

Auntie Nancy, the lady of the night at the pub, wears bright red shoes and ruby lipstick. She’s my favorite and sometimes brings me comics.

Ken, the captain of the fleet, adorned with three lines of gold braid on his arm, speaks with an air, as if a plum is in his mouth. He believes everyone is “jolly.”

Fred, who “plays for the other side,” meaning he is gay, shares great stories with my dad that everyone enjoys. There are derogatory words used for gay men when Fred is absent (a negative British Navy tradition), but when he is present, everyone treats him with respect!

Harry, with a thick accent and appearing somewhat brown to a young English girl, always buys me a lemonade. He runs a magic shop but struggles with tricks. Nevertheless, people hire him for kids’ birthday parties.

Father Amos, the Catholic padre, blesses everyone, especially after 2 or 3 scotches. After the 5th scotch, he sometimes chants in Latin.

Auntie Nellie, always in a very dirty white apron, with only one tooth in the center of her head, laughs like a hyena, and consistently wins at whist.

These individuals comprised my world – my community. My father maintained a safe haven of peace, admonishing anyone who got pushy or vaguely nasty, while my granny played the piano, albeit very poorly. Tolerance and kindness are the words that come to mind here. Perhaps it was because they had come through the war together and understood that we all needed each other? Not sure.

Isn’t this what we were aiming for when the DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) movement began? Where did it go? It feels like we are more judgmental and divided than ever. Many of us now keep our heads down and avoid being open or different, and that seems sad to me.

Oh, for an evening in a 1950’s British pub. No ideology – just fellow feeling.