Angela Rayner’s political career has long been mired by classist and misogynistic headlines. It felt like we reached a new low in 2022 when the Mail on Sunday referred to her pulling a ‘Basic Instinct ploy’ to distract then Prime Minister Boris Johnson by crossing and uncrossing her legs in the House of Commons. But this past week, since she became Deputy Prime Minister, it’s been particularly unbearable to watch the endless takedowns of her.
First came her decision to wear a £550 Me+Em suit to Downing Street the day Labour won the general election. She was mocked online as though her ability to afford a new outfit somehow betrayed her working-class identity, the wilful ignorance around upward social mobility clear to anyone who can relate to Rayner’s background. Then came the rage-baiting tweet posting a picture of Rayner with the caption ‘Does this really represent the UK?
‘A working-class woman having endured difficult circumstances, being pregnant at 16 and leaving school without qualifications, overcoming innumerable obstacles, and bettering her life to become the deputy prime minister, is a remarkable, inspiring story. So yes. She does’ one person tweeted in response to over 50,000 likes.
Further ludicrous takedowns include people sharing a video of her at a 2019 protest to tackle the stigma around HIV, where she can be seen dancing along with other protestors in celebration of the fact that effective HIV treatment means it is not transmissible with medication. Some have used the video to claim she is ‘embarrassing’, although no one can seem to explain why.
Many of the other attacks on Rayner’s character are much more insidious. The choice some right-wing publications make, for example, to always accompany articles about her with pictures of her smoking when there are plenty of non-smoking images of her available. Or headlines that imply she’ll now enjoy some kind of luxury lifestyle, like recent ones about which ‘mansion’ she’ll take as a second home (referring to the historic tradition for grace-and-favour homes to be given to ministers, which Tory ministers historically squabbled over, but Labour have not yet made such a fuss of).
For those of us familiar with how misogyny and classism seep their way into our headlines and public commentary, it feels like it’s just the start of an escalation in attacks on Rayner – and that’s scary. As someone who often felt out of place in certain rooms when I first started my career, seeing Angela Rayner overcome so much adversity to become one of the most powerful women in the country gave me hope. Now, I worry for the young girls and women who have been inspired by her success, will they be turned off from politics for fear of receiving the same treatment?
Being from Liverpool, I remember all of the instances of classism in my life. As a child on my first family holiday abroad, hearing endless variations of ‘Watch your tires, the scousers are here!’ when we’d dare to open our mouths around the hotel pool. Being told at 15 by a southern woman that my mum had befriended that I needed to change my accent if I ever wanted a job. People being surprised throughout my life whenever I’ve mentioned any activity or experience I had growing up that didn’t fit into their idea of what it means to be northern (you’re not allowed to know how to ski, or have visited anywhere outside Benidorm, FYI).
The irony is that I can’t even call myself working class. My mum certainly was, but like Rayner she worked incredibly hard throughout her life and experienced such great upward social mobility that by the time I was a teenager I was the friend in the group that everyone considered ‘posh’ for moving to the suburbs. So, when I came to London aged 22 and people would naturally assume due to my accent that I was poor, it was laughable – how did they think I could afford to move to London and pursue journalism?! The lack of understanding of upward social mobility is one thing, but the fact that so many people think a northern accent equals poverty is truly wild.
Classism impedes your life and opportunities in so many ways.
But then the assumptions, the classism, do impede on your life and opportunities in different ways. I’ve noticed that many people (mostly men) almost always assume that I’m stupid, aggressive or vulgar when they first hear me speak – and they’re not shy about making that clear. The side-eyes and the jokes all make you feel small, underestimated. Some thrive on that but others – like me – find it more difficult to appear confident. At least I used to, now I’m annoyingly indignant about refusing to change for anyone else’s comfort. That’s why I’ve long admired the way Rayner can hold her own in a room that would have undoubtedly been intimidating at the start of her political career. She’s never faltered her opinions, softened her accent or backed down to a challenge. She refuses to play the game so many of us feel we have to when your background is unfamiliar to everyone else in the room.
That should be an inspiration – we should be proud of the things she has overcome to become one of the most powerful women in Britain. And yet, certain parts of society – and the internet – choose to try and belittle her success, or imply that she’s somehow less capable a leader because of her background. What does that teach the rest of us? At best, we know we can get there because she has too, but at worst we know it will be a relentless uphill battle to earn the same level of respect that middle and upper-class people are afforded without caution, even once we are there. I want a generation of working-class kids to see Rayner and feel inspired, not fear the treatment they’ll get if they ever chose to follow in her footsteps.