Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

In my home I was raised to be unafraid to go to new places and try new foods, things, etc. Usually that has included going to places that are not necessarily in accordance with my social-economic class in the states. We just bring out our best clothes, proper manners, and the green and we are welcomed in. So I was completely astonished, and baffled in a sense when I experienced firsthand the clear cut class division in London. I particularly felt it when a couple of us went inside Harrod’s, which is perhaps the most expensive store in England.

Harrod’s, if you don’t know much about it, is currently owned by Qatar Investment Authority (QIA) a company whose worth is at $60 Billion. Harrod’s, however, was first founded in 1849 by Charles Henry Harrod making it the oldest and biggest high-end department store still in existence. ( For a more detailed history on Harrod’s visit http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/10103783)

A group of five from my program ventured into Harrod’s after making our way to Hyde Park. The stores geographic location is just a couple blocks away from a little place called Buckingham Palace, perhaps you have heard of it.  The exterior of the Harrod’s building is very palatial, I even wondered if it was a state palace or something of the sort because it flies about 35 flags from around the world on its roof. I was soon corrected by my friend Pat, that the building I was staring at was none other than one of the most exclusive shops in the world. As we walked into this so called Harrod’s it became immediately apparent that this shop was made of money and produces a lot of money. In a sense it reminded me of going into the Belagio and Mandalay Bay hotel’s in Las Vegas, therefore it didn’t impress me so much.  Unlike the Belagio or the Mandalay Bay what became increasingly apparent was the discrimination that occurred by the employees of Harrod’s to people/ customers within the store. I have never before in my life been blatantly ignored like I was last week. The employees literally took one look at me and my clothing and turned away as if I didn’t exist. It felt very odd, horrible, and vicious all rolled into one feeling.  I stopped by the men’s shoes section just to gage the prices within this exclusive store, and to my amazement the simple looking loafer I picked up cost £850, in American terms that’s roughly $1,270 for a pair of shoes. Now if your eyes popped out at that figure do you imagine mine when standing in a room full of those prices? I know I don’t understand the concept of being rich because I have never been rich, but it really sickens me to see such pretentiousness just to show your higher status amongst the community.

So after I had this horrible encounter with wealth I decided to look into just who exactly works in Harrod’s and why do they feel that they have the right to look past me? To my surprise these sales associates win the same exact salary as sales associates in Macy’s or Nordstrom from back home in the states. They win roughly about $24,000 a year.(http://www.harrodscareers.com/page/benefits_and_rewards)  It amazes me that even the people who clearly are not part of that social economic circle feel that they have a granted right to treat others the same way they are treated. If there is one conclusion from this entire experience it is that I will never understand how wealth is equated to respect and the right to abuse people. People who genuinely believe in these two traits have a completely wrong way of looking at life.

So the other night a few students and myself went out to grab a quick dinner and a pint following our alumni event, as the “Honey I Shrunk the Salmon Cakes” hors d’oevres could not fill our gullets for the night.  Donned in dapper suits and freshly purchased genuine leather kicks, we set out to find our destination.  Our first interaction with a Brit came in the form of a toothless, homeless woman with dreadlocks.  She approached us, our eyes met with hers and she approached us rather briskly, uttered some kind of local gibberish which we all interpreted to be “do you have any spare change?”.  One student obliged as the rest walked onward, glad to have escaped the incredibly awkward situation.  We came back from it, discussed it a little bit and walked on.  Upon finding the ideal pub, we sat down and sipped on our local brew, chatting and recapping the passing day.  Soon we had our second interaction; a homeless man with a torn shirt asked us for money.  One student offered him a little bit, the man mumbled something to himself, and he slammed the coin back on the table and walked on.  We were shocked, but the madness continued.  A third woman (who was far more well dressed mind you) walked up to us and explained how somehow her inability to get a bus pass meant that one of us had to give her a sip of our beer.  After a bit of debate with her (I gave her the germaholic excuse), she just nodded and walked on.

So what do these 3 interactions mean?  We discussed how the fact that we were all dressed in suits clearly had some impact on the surrounding Brit’s conceptions of our class status, since they seem to value appearance quite a bit in what we have seen so far.  I have to admit we were getting some looks from Brits other than the homeless population while we wandered the streets.  So clearly, we had people convinced we were some sort of businessmen judged by the first look.  Why then was this slew of impoverished people so willing to approach us and ask us for their money?  Maybe it has something to do with the fake politeness we have discussed concerning the Brits.  How far can politeness go though?  Do homeless people only go after the people they think can afford to give away a little money?  It could be that these class systems are so defined but have such big extremes that the lowest of the low may only think to ask the top dogs if they could spare it, sine they can read people so well that they wouldn’t think to ask anyone that wouldn’t afford a few extra pence.  What about the guy who rejected our offer?  He acted as if we were being smug to give him only 10 or 20 pence.  Maybe he had labeled us so that he thought we could afford more.  But then what happens to the idea of fake politeness?  This beggar rejected our offer of money, which wasn’t exactly the most polite of actions.  Don’t even get me started on the girl who only wanted to swipe a sip of our beer.  I can’t imagine that would be a polite thing to even ask.  There is no way that this politeness deal can only work from the top down.  The mystery of the British people continues to unravel…

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