Children of the UK wealth divide: how a six-year-old deals with poverty
National Equality Panel's analysis shows the richest 10% is more than 100 times better off than the poorest 10%
In many ways the Renton and the Green families have plenty in common – these are two busy, noisy, happy households, each with three children. In both families, the two older children are already in their early 20s, venturing out into adult life, leaving behind a much younger sibling, the baby of the house.
The parents' aspirations are similar. Chris Renton hopes that his six-year-old daughter, and his older boys, will find security and stability in later life. Laura Green wants her children to be happy, loved and fulfilled in their careers.
Cliff, Plaistow, east London: his rental arrears are “a permanent presence, a weight on your shoulders, a knot in your stomach – all the clichés”. Photograph: Martin Godwin
The publication this week of the National Equality Panel's analysis shows how the richest 10% is more than 100 times better off than the poorest 10% – with household wealth of at least £853,000.
Neither family feels exceptional but they are at the extremes of the wealth divide. This being Britain, there is an unease with the subject of money, and both prefer to discuss their finances anonymously.
In the early morning sprint to get his daughter to school, Chris is encouraging her to put down her pink Nintendo DS and finish her Weetabix, rushing to tidy her hair, straighten her school uniform, strap her into the car and deliver her to class on time.
As he drives back, it doesn't take him long to work out that his personal wealth stands well below the bottom 10% threshold; his most valuable possession is the 10-year-old car, perhaps worth about £1,000. Then there is an eight-year-old computer with a broken disc drive, maybe £50, a temperamental DVD player and some hi-fi equipment, perhaps another £50 together, the beds, the secondhand sofas, of indeterminate value, and the glass-fronted display cabinets, a present from his mother – "maybe they're worth £100 for the two of them, if I'm generous".
Most of the parents at his daughter's school are in a similar financial situation, he guesses, but the subject is never discussed. "Too stigmatising," he says.
Back at home, his 20-year-old son is playing with a tiny puppy in the narrow hallway. Both sons left school at 16 (like Chris), and, like their father, are now claiming jobseeker's allowance. The puppy is a new arrival, but will not be staying for long – grown dogs eat a lot of expensive food.
Good parenting is a priority, and Chris took time off work to be with all three children in their pre-school years. He has helped teach them to cook, supported the elder boys' steps towards independence, encouraged their interest in music and is helping the middle child apply for a Prince's Trust grant.
The sale of his mother's house a few years ago meant that he was able to put £5,000 each in three trust funds for his children – money that he won't touch.
He is not materialistic (although he minds a little that he can't afford to buy his daughter free-range eggs) but money troubles do have an impact on his ability to be a good father. Piled up on the table are bailiffs' notices that announce that agents "have today attended your property with the intention of levying and removing your goods".
Filed beneath them are the bank statements that record the frequent decisions to charge £35 fines for unauthorised overdrafts – charges that mean a trip to buy eggs, bread and milk for his family can end up costing £40 instead of £5, (a penalty for being poor, he says).
In many ways it is a relief that he can no longer afford the landline because before it was cut off the phone would be ringing several times a day with recorded messages from utility providers about unpaid bills. Anxiety about whether his debts to the landlord will trigger eviction once the six-month tenancy expires is, he says, "a permanent presence, a weight on your shoulders, a knot in your stomach – all the clichés".
He knows his daughter senses his unease. "What I can't provide is security. She has her room upstairs, with all her stuff in it – she is comfortable here. If that was all to be disrupted there would be unhappiness," he says.
"If you don't feel secure, you are always on tenterhooks, you snap at the children. It is a mental strain. Sometimes you feel you just want to roll over and give up. Your resilience is worn away, there is nothing left to rely on."
At the other end of the school day, Laura encourages her 11-year-old son to unplug his ears from an iPod to say hello, before his guitar tutor arrives. Her stock-take runs through the value of the home, an estimated £1.5m, minus the £400,000 mortgage, plus approximately £200,000 worth of shares, plus the uncertain value of her husband's business, and the pension and health care schemes – pushing the household so firmly into the 90th percentile, that there is no need to start itemising the values of televisions, cars, carpets, paintings and marble kitchen fittings.
A little later, and with some embarrassment, she remembers a London flat bought for the children that she has forgotten to add into the calculation.
Laura would never have placed herself at the top of the pile. For her being truly rich means "flying first class without blinking", living in a more expensive part of London, taking ski holidays and always staying in five star hotels.
Although money has not been tight for the past six years, putting three children through private education has, she says, meant going on fewer holidays abroad, and keeping the same family car for 17 years. This week's equality report notes: "Most people are unaware either of their own position in the income distribution or of the true scale of differences between the high-paid and the low-paid. This lack of awareness runs through society, from rich to poor."
The report concludes that "economic advantage and disadvantage reinforce themselves across the life cycle, and often on to the next generation" and argues that achieving the goal of equality of opportunity "is very hard when there are such wide differences between the resources which people and their families have to help them fulfil their diverse potentials".
Earlier this month David Cameron argued that "what matters most to a child's life chances is not the wealth of their upbringing but the warmth of their parenting". Both Chris and Laura are kind and dedicated parents, but no amount of warmth can outweigh the effect of money or the lack of it.
Like Chris, Laura has made good parenting a high priority, but money has widened their opportunities. Educating the children has been the key; as well as paying for private schools, she and her husband are now supporting the two older children through second degrees.
Both Chris and Laura have a sense of social responsibility. Laura trained as a social worker and then as a teacher and has spent years helping disadvantaged children overcome literacy problems. Since losing his job as a gardener last year, Chris is working as a volunteer with Community Links, a support group for the long-term unemployed. Both expected Labour to do more to narrow the wealth divide.
"There was a drive to make this a classless society, but I think the trend has become even more emphasised," Chris says. Still, he remains an optimist – happy despite his financial worries and with no desire to jump to the top 10th of society.
"I don't think their lives are more enriched by what they have. They will be accumulating for the sake of it and they will be more worried about what they have to lose. They will have further to fall," he says. "That could be just as stressful as my situation."
Laura does not feel under real stress now, although she concedes that, as a mother, life is never worry-free. "What does it mean to be comfortably off? It means I can choose to work part-time and spend time with my family, I can choose to take a day off a week to do an art class," she says.
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