Her Voice

Her voice is a collection of words and portraits that capture the shared experience the women of Doncaster lived through during the 1984-1985 Miners’ Strike. For some of the women in the collection it was lived experience, a moment in time that changed the community they were fighting for. 

Aggie

My father was a miner, we moved from Scotland when I was 4 . We moved to where the work was, that’s what you did.

I was used to miners striking , it was what I’d grown up with . We never had new clothes. I didn’t mind really. I once had passed on this beautiful winter coat, It had a velvet tie at the back, I loved that coat.

It made sense that I married a miner, it was the only world I knew. So when the strike came in ’84 we walked out. I say we because the whole family felt it.

I wasn’t the confrontational type - before.

I didn’t even swear - before.

I wasn’t really political - before 

Then one day, there was nowt on telly, so I walked down to the club where the women were meeting  - women against pit closures. They were all sat there, shouting out raising their hands, so I raised mine too. The lady on my left said “Aggie they’ve just voted you speaker”.

From then on I began to speak up and speak out. And stand up. And stand out. And I couldn’t go back to before. I couldn’t stay quiet when the wives walked their men across the picket line. I couldn’t stand still when the police kicked my mother. And I wouldn’t stay down when they knocked out my teeth.  

Annie

We went 12 weeks with no money. Nothing. The neighbours knocked the door with bags of shopping. I wept. Through shame. This fire was lit in me. A fury that drove me to every march.

Beryl

We had a pub in Woodhouse Mill called the Princesss Royal and the day Police clashed with miners, they call it The Battle of Orgreave, we opened the doors and took in the miners. My husband had been miner, so he stood with them. When he saw them coming in covered in blood and dust, every one of them was given what they needed and he poured pint after pint and took not one penny from any of them. 

Kath

I never back out of fight, even now and I’m 95. I remember I was in the paper shop and the lads came in and said the Bobbies are on the bridge Kath. I fought them on the bridge and I would fight them again today. It was lucky my Fred was dead because he wouldn’t of me let go, but I had no one to stop me. I stood with my son and I met them on the bridge.

Emma

I grew up here. In the shadow of what had come before me. It’s over forty years since it’s been a working pit but we still call it the pit top. I think the language of the miners will alway be stitched into the way we speak. I was born, raised and I will stay here, I find that difficult sometimes. I might have left but everything I came from is here and everything I am building for the future is here. I really believe that I can make difference, here, make this place a place I want to stay and raise my son. 

Jayne

I remember at the pit head there was a shop and we were allowed to run up at Friday teatime, Friday was payday and we could pick what we fancied, I always got a vanilla slice. My dad would finish work I would watch him walking up, covered in soot, ready for the weekend while I ate my vanilla slice. He would dip into his pay packet and pay for what we’d got. I was so young and carefree, with things to look forward to, when I think back, that’s what the strike took away, a sense of hope and being carefree.

Jazmine

My grandad, Arthur William Webb, was a smart witty man. He made sure we had a smile on our faces. 

He worked down the pits and stood with the miners and protested against the closures.

When he was working down the mines he got trapped with some of his friends and his brother in law. We were so lucky because him and his brother in law were rescued. Sadly not everyone made it. 

Working in the mines took a toll on his health as he developed emphysema from his life down the pit. 

He was an amazing husband dad and Grandad. Sadly passed in 2009. We still keep the memories of him with us, the way he would sneek me his tea on my dummy and tab his walking stick to scared me as I would hide behind it. He will always be remembered and forever loved.

Lesley

My father-in-law worked down the pit for 34 years. During the Miners’ Strike he would go to the picket line, he stood by the union and stood by what they believed in. He would go to the soup kitchens, but my mother in law, she wouldn’t go, she was too proud. My husband had just started work and his wage is what kept them through the Miners’ Strike. 

Sue

There is coal dust in my blood. Some people look for beautiful sights in nature, but for me the sight of the slag heaps is what told me I was home. 

Suzanne

I wasn’t from here but I was married to one of their men. I was an outsider.  The other wives wouldn’t speak to me but when the strike happened they knew I baked my own bread. They would bring their bits of flour to me and I baked loaf after loaf and for a while I was one of them. Then when the men walked back to work, I was on the outside again.

Tracey

You can’t change your beginning and sometimes life will set you on a different path, the Miners’ Strike taught me that, but it also taught me who I was and how strong I was.

Vicky

In a world that saw people stand apart my mum pulled people together. 

Our mum is a tiny woman, tiny but mighty. They called Maggie the Iron Lady but she was no match for our mum. No matter the size of her opponent she would never give up. She is my hero and the world should never underestimate the power of a little woman with a fierce heart and a cause and community worth fighting for.