Youth Opportunities: Reanimating Data as Found Poems of Transition,Resistance,and Representation

Abstract

This article presents three thematic found poems based on reanimated data from interview transcripts, interview schedules, speeches, commentary, research ephemera, notes, and personal reflections related to school-to-work transition and youth training in 1980s Britain. This was a time of upheaval and change, with young people at the forefront of economic decline and social conflict. Rather than leaving their stories “archived,” found poetry has the analytical potential to offer new insights and understanding.

Starting Points

I have been writing about the transition from school to work for nearly 30 years, focusing particularly on young people’s experiences in the 1960s and 1980s UK labor markets (see Goodwin, 1999; Goodwin & O’Connor, 2025). This was partly due to the serendipitous (re)discovery of a “lost” young worker project early in my career—old interview booklets discarded in an attic office. However, the roots of my interest are more deeply grounded in biographical experience and the intersection of history and biography of my own difficult transition from school to work (see Goodwin, 2016). As Mills (2000) suggests, I have been cognizant of the “mixture of personal and political and professional factors which have come together to determine” my intellectual work (Mills, 2000, p. 252).

I left school in the mid-1980s, transitioning into a labor market devastated by the closure of coal mines and the general drift toward deindustrialization that was accelerating due to the election of the Thatcher government in 1979. Leaving school with no qualifications and entering a depressed labor market with few opportunities, I was fortunate enough to have a lecturer at a local further education college who saw “value” in me and believed that I would benefit from a vocational qualification for which I was not eligible: a fateful moment, a turning point. For many of my contemporaries, what loomed on the horizon was a blunt UK government intervention, or “civilising offensive” (see Author A), designed to “solve” mass youth unemployment in the crudest way possible. The introduction of “youth training” programs, starting with the “Youth Opportunities Programme” (YOP), quickly followed by the “Youth Training Scheme” (YTS), was pitched by the UK government as a route into work by combining work experience and vocational training. Despite political rhetoric concerning quality, standards, help, support, skills, or what would now be termed “employability,” the schemes were of highly variable quality. The quality of training on offer was primarily determined by the employer’s capability and the state of the local labor market. For many, the experience was low-quality training, with welfare payment levels on schemes that were substitutes for “real” work, designed to massage youth and employment figures (see Dominelli, 1988). While there were good schemes that were both meaningful and offered quality skills training, these were typically found in the more prosperous and growing local economies of the south of England (see Finn, 1984; Furlong, 1993: Author A). Typically, young people would churn through the system—leave school, enter a scheme for 1–2 years, then enter unemployment:

Is the scheme born of some desperate need to be seen to be doing something, no matter what, in the present desperate climate, to help the young unemployed? Is the reason for it the fact that, even though there will be no job at the end of the scheme, it is still better to spend a year learning something in a work environment, being subject to the disciplines of industry, than hanging around the discos or the streets? (Tebbit, 1983, p. 316)

One must pause to reflect on the political motivations for introducing these workfare-style schemes. In the United Kingdom, they were rooted in the ideology of the political right, where the stigmatization of young people was undergirded by a straightforward narrative that any failure to secure meaningful work resulted from individual failings, personal limitations, or lack of aspiration rather than structural inequalities. Yet the structural inequalities of that time had been exacerbated by the enactment of Thatcherite, neo-liberal polices systematically deindustrialized large parts of the United Kingdom, decimating traditional heavy industries (such as coal and steel) manufacturing (such as cars) while also transferring ownership of nationalized utilities (water, power, transport) to private shareholder ownership (see Heald, 1988; Marsh, 1991). It is against this context that those leaving school in Britain in the 1980s had to try to find work but were then blamed when they could not (see Finn, 1987). This period has left indelible but long-lasting scars on their lives for many. The community wounds are deep, enduring, and remain.

A standard account so far. Yet while the narrative surrounding these debates is now well established to the point of orthodoxy, I have increasingly reflected upon how the lives of working-class youth have been (and continue to be) represented in the analyses. From this have emerged three concerns. First, often these established accounts overstate specific issues and experiences while downplaying individual stories and complexities. Personal (even community) stories are hidden in analyses underpinned by theoretical and empirical apriorism rather than lived realities (see Goodwin & O’Connor, 2005). It is not because there is anything wrong with the analyses per se; it’s just that they can be dull, unimaginative, uninspiring, and lack depth or texture. I include my own work in that criticism. Second, and relatedly, the shifts in my own research practices have prompted me to reflect on how I could have presented the data better or differently. Have I done the data justice? Starting from wholly quantitative analysis, surveys, questionnaires, and interviews, secondary data, and data reuse (see Goodwin, 1999), moving through to archival research, paradata and ephemera, visual methods (see Goodwin, 2018, 2023; Goodwin & Parsons, 2021) and on to ethnography and autoethnography and storytelling (see Goodwin, 2024; Parsons & Goodwin, 2025), have led me to an increasing focus on how to engage with, analyze and present data “differently.” Such concerns are far from new, novel, or unique (see Back & Puwar, 2012; Denzin, 2016; Gray & Lazenby, 2024; Letherby, 2004, 2024; Ridge, 2024). Finally, as researchers, we have an ongoing ethical obligation to our respondents to best utilize the data they have contributed and fully acknowledge the time they have committed to the research. These aims are not best served by simply archiving data, viewing it chronologically “old” and never returning to it (see Goodwin & O’Connor, 2005; O’Connor & Goodwin, 2013). Such data can be reworked, reimagined, and reanimated for new analytical insights (see Thomson & McGeeney, 2024).

Reanimating Data Sources for Found Poems

I found two broad approaches particularly encouraging when attempting to revisit the data. First, authors who used writing and analysis techniques such as poetic inquiry, storytelling, fiction, and graphic novels. Although different in orientation, such analytical and presentational strategies offer many possibilities. I have found the idea of found poetry particularly motivating (see Keedle & Willo, 2022; Prendergast, 2015, 2022; Rogalska 2020; Hosseini, 2023; Geers 2024). Given the emphasis of found poetry on using respondents’ own words, augmenting with mixed materials, and using “the expressive power of poetry” (Hough et al., 2025, p. 86) to derive, convey, and convey meaning. Second is the idea of reanimating data, particularly the work of Thomson (2022). For me, reanimating is such a key concept, especially when revisiting archived materials or data from past projects. The idea of exploring the data in a way that revives, restores, refreshes, renews, and reimagines so as to breathe new life into such data and opens the way for a multitude of analytical possibilities. Data collection and analysis are then less of a “one-off process” and more of an ongoing (re) engagement.

I have used three main sources of material, none of which were originally collected or recorded in poetic form. Ephemera, personal notes, images, speeches, and texts ¹ relating to YTS. Government records, speeches in the UK houses of parliament, and the diaries and writings of ministers in charge of employment in the 1980s all offer rich, insightful materials that can be repurposed when juxtaposed with the lived experiences. Photographs of the mid-1980s also provoke the imagination (see Report Digital, 2025). As suggested above, I have also been fortunate to have access to a vast array of data, some publicly available in national repositories or that forms part of a “found youth studies data archive” at my own institution. The found data comprises over 3,500 interview schedules collected in the 1960s, 1980s, and 2020s across the United Kingdom in places such as Chelmsford, Liverpool, Leicester, St Albans, Sunderland, Walsall, and elsewhere. ² This data documents young people’s experience of employment and unemployment in the broadest sense and includes materials considering contemporary and retrospective accounts of the lived realities of youth training, early working lives, education, and unemployment.

I have also included data that is more personal to me. Like most, a part of my biographical story is my date of birth, but by chance, my date of birth falls in a week in April 1970 that was used by the Institute for Child Health, University of Bristol, UK, as a sampling device for the British Cohort Study (hereafter BCS70) (see Bynner et al., 1997a and 1997b; Ferri 1998; Sullivan et al., 2023). So, I am also a unit of analysis in one of the UK’s long-standing cohort studies. There are multiple accounts of the history, aims, and rationale for BCS70, but the interviewees have taken place every five or so years since 1970. This mass of data has resulted in many publications, interpretations, and analyses across all aspects of life (see Feinstein, 2003; Cheng et al., 2012; Daly et al., 2015). The analytical power of such work cannot be diminished or underestimated. Yet, reading many of the publications, and while recognizing the aggregated results are not about “me” per se, I have often wondered what they “say to me about my life” ³ ?

Youthscan 1986: Section G “Home and All That”: QE5. What do you think you will be doing and where do you think you will be living in 10 years’ time?

It is here that history, biography, and research interests intersect. First, there was a sweep on the BCS70 study in 1986, which was the year of my problematic transition from school. Youthscan, ⁴ as the sweep at age 16 was titled, contained various instruments covering health assessment, attitudes, consumption, leisure, fears and aspirations, education tests, teacher interviews, and everything in between. There have been multiple standard analyses of this data to understand school-to-work transitions, including work I have contributed to (see Author A). Yet, more challenging questions could be (i) just because BCS70 is large-scale, quantitative cohort data, does not make it any less biographical; or (ii) can this data be used differently, interpreted, and presented beyond the usual numerical distributions? Can it be used differently to illuminate life stories? I agree with Smith’s (1994) sentiment (p. 286) that “every text that is created is a self-statement, a bit of autobiography, a statement that carries an individual signature.” BCS70 contains more than a bit of autobiography (Elliott, 2008).

The assembly of resources, gathered over many years, proved to be quite a daunting proposition. Unlike others, I did not begin with an overly systematic process or method for processing or selecting the materials (see Davis, 2019). Nor did “themes, words or ideas” magically jump off the page or materialize from the interview schedules. In fact, the notion of poetry was not a starting point but more of a feeling of wanting to do something different. However, as with any analytical practice, I went “back to basics” and started by repeatedly reading the source material. At the same time, I wrote by hand my memories and reflections of leaving school, of the 1980s, and contemplated the intersections of history and biography. Finally, I wanted to acknowledge that, given my interests and background, I was already “sensitised” to certain concepts, ideas, words, experiences, and questions within the materials (such as class, precarity, protest, unemployment, and skill). Those writing with sensitizing concepts advocate that concepts should be embraced and used to stimulate more systematic and creative thought (Bowen, 2020; Charmaz, 2003; Maguire, 1988) or, as Bowen (2006, p. 14) suggests, sensitizing concepts offer “a way of seeing data; they are starting points, not end-points, in the analysis process.”

In curating the poems, I used the materials to extract words and phrases from interview transcripts, interview schedules, speeches, commentary, research ephemera, notes, and reflections. In poem 3, I have also used the numerical values from the surveys, as I wanted to include this type of material in line with the band The Sleaford Mods, who, in the opening lyrics to their song “Jobseeker” (Sleaford Mods, 2007), quote fridge temperatures.

Three Poems: Youth Transition, Resistance, and Representation

[1] Young, Thick and Stupid (YTS)

Scrapped at 16

Unsure as to what they wanted to do after leaving school

Education was something that was far from our minds

YT was better than nothing/being unemployed

I wasn’t wise enough about hunting down jobs

Unable to perform well during interviews, so

Precarity was not a rarity

Social security wasn’t a novelty

Not for them or me any workplace certainty

I grew up in the 30s with an unemployed father . . . he got on his bike and looked for work

Adopting policies which blame and stigmatise.

There will be two years’ training for 16-year-old school leavers

Different aspirations, common destinations, just serving time

The teachers at the school wanted me to become a hosiery mechanic

I wanted to become a butcher

Oh, you want to be an air hostess? Bizarre!

You weren’t forced or coerced

General office skills were the compromise.

Forecasts of how profit and loss are derived.

(We were all) ill advised.

These tacky job replacement schemes are an odious obscenity

Workfare as welfare, no safety net, only hidden traps

No choice of scheme, no promise of employment, no future prospects.

But no to scab labour

Fight to protect your future

A massive rise in unemployment, hardship and demoralisation among young people with

Over half a million in training at any one time

Not an entrepreneurial society, as Britain has an utter contempt for skill

A slow kill but a rapid demise

Of industry, real jobs and for those who aspire.

The tale has gone on and will continue

But they didn’t tell you.

[2] From Resistance to Riot

‘The Thatcher junta won’t get me’

No slave wage scheme will I serve

Fuelled in Toxteth, Lambeth or Moss Side

The plough and stars inspire and drive

From Broadwater Farm, Chapeltown and Brixton

A desire that remains fixed on resistance

No job to be had. Fight back!

Fight for those rights

Fight the job cuts

‘The Thatcher junta won’t get me’

More of the Militant Tendency

Too smart am I to succumb to Scarman, Heseltine, Tebbit, not one

A watershed moment for race relations

The spark was lit and burns on to subvert

where youth remain angry but not gone

[3] 1986 Achievement in Words and Numbers

A 1970 birth week marked out for 17,198 children

I am one

 individual and cohort

 interconnected if differently positioned

1970, 1975, 1980, 1986, 1996 and beyond

In 1986, they came and “scanned”

A fateful year of change,

 of “moving on” if not forward, backwards or out

School Type at Age 16: Comprehensive (7983)

It was written:

 He has been a first-class influence in the school.

 He fought to overcome illness, but he has done so with intelligence.

 He has a keen sense of humour

 He has been doing things

 He is literate, numerate, honest, and reliable.

 He should get the right opportunities to reveal his worth.

They asked:

 Adult life: Having a full-time job matters very much (4776)

 I said: I hope I will be working, but I am not certain about the rest

They asked:

 To have long-term security matters very much (3145)

 I said: “I would like to see more help given to teenagers by the government”

 “Get rid of all nuclear bombs”

They asked:

 What I least like doing:

 I said: “Listening to Margaret Thatcher”

They asked:

 What do you think you will be doing in 10 years’ time?

 I said: “Give us a chance to live”

They asked:

 Which World problems should be solved first: Unemployment (1609)

 I said: “If people of our age want any chance of a decent life.”

That honest, reliable, humorous boy.

How to reveal his worth?

The sweeps will reveal the subject of study since birth.

Conclusion: End Points?

Several aims fuelled the starting point for the paper. To move away from the standard presentation of data, to return to data from past studies, and to use found poetry to explore themes still hidden in those materials. In doing so, I hoped to have illustrated the process of reworking or reanimating legacy data using found poetry. Although I have worked with the same data for years, creating poetry using these materials differently has been transformative, as much for me as it has been for the data. It gave me the confidence to apply this form of poetic inquiry to examine my experiences of the 1980s alongside the experiences of others. Autoethnography via found poetry. The commonality of experience and shared themes is reassuring and depressing. That said, the data-based found poems capture those stories.

How to conclude? In many respects, using data from legacy systems in this way, reanimating that, and revisiting the materials via poetry or other creative methods means there are no “end points.” Instead, this “old” data affords endless opportunities for reworking and reinterpretation to derive new meaning and insights. Even accounting for the inherent dangers of the “prism of present” (using contemporary debates to examine and test past findings), the analytical value of combining such data with creative practice is both insightful and beneficial. It is also sustainable in that data collected for past or legacy studies should not remain hidden, lost, or ignored in archives but, instead, should be reused and reanalyzed to reveal their ongoing value to the field.