The arts, although saturated with middle-class voices, are getting an infusion of working-class blood. It’s an exciting moment for our society.
Rising rents mean single parents are being forced further and further away from those who can support them. They are “austerity nomads”.
With every meal, every class of tai chi, every day I don’t pay some dickhead €20 to feel like a human being, I’m reclaiming my right to pride and dignity.
When you isolate people, they start to form their own societies, receiving legitimacy from each other instead of the dominant culture. Enter Dublin hip-hop, writes Dara Quigley.
The government lacks the self-awareness to realise that Minister for Social Protection Joan Burton should be turning up at the closings of food banks, not the openings.
These days – the poor, the working poor, the working class, the middle-class – almost all of us are screwed. The wealth is trickling upwards to a very few.
Dara Quigley asks why, for those with little spare cash, Dublin’s centre is so unwelcoming. And why do we put up with it?
