I am lucky. As I write, my nine month old daughter sleeps peacefully within my sight. I glance over at her and try not to disturb her by tapping too loudly on the keyboard of my Macbook Air. I sip a strong coffee, brewed just the way I like it, because, yes, looking after a baby can be a bit tiring whilst working too.
I think of my good fortune and I imagine my daughter’s future. My beautiful mixed race daughter. I love and care for her with her biological (gay) father and his husband. We are a different-shaped and loving family. I dwell on the current political climate in Britain and I hope beyond hope that freedoms and rights, human rights, that I had once believed were enshrined into the values of this country are not eroded to such an extent that one day she and I are huddled, hungry, cold and afraid, under tarpaulin sheeting in a “jungle camp”.
