What happens when people form romantic relationships across class? Eve Vincent and Rose Butler interviewed 38 people to find out. Their candid answers are revealing. When Patrick first held a driver’s licence, his P-plates, he drove a beaten-up car “almost as old as myself”.
If police didn’t pull him over once a month, he’d be surprised. His older brother’s girlfriend, “ an upper-class girl ”, was once pulled over while on her P-plates while driving a new car, having forgotten to put her lights on. The officer told her in a friendly voice, “You should probably put your lights on.
” She had responded mildly with, “Oh, cool, sorry.” In a similar situation, Patrick had been charged over an insignificant technicality to do with displaying his P-plates. “Just the expectation from me of dealing with authorities is .
.. I have to toe the line,” he told us.
“My expectations are I’m going to get slammed by them.” When we spoke to Patrick, he was in his 30s. Now, he is a computer programmer, living a comfortable life.
But throughout his childhood, Patrick, who is white, shouldered significant responsibilities amid severe material deprivation – he recalled going hungry, for instance. His girlfriend, Felicia, grew up in the “upper class end of things” in the quiet south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne. Her dad was a doctor and her mum assisted with the practice.
She and her siblings attended the local private school because, Felicia believed, her parent.
