Broken Shoes….Be Careful!

Posted on November 9, 2011 by seeandconnect

Last week I went on a ten day Vipassana meditation course. You don’t get much of an opportunity to talk with others, so I know very little about most of the people who joined me. Ages ranged, I believe, from eighteen to mid-sixties. Economic backgrounds varied. The course has a policy of no fees, only donations – you pay what you can afford and feel is appropriate. Thus, people with very little money come on the course – I know this because I talked with two people who fit in that category, who had struggled to pay for transport to get to the Centre. The racial and ethnic diversity of my fellow meditators was very mixed (to my delight): British, American, Sri Lankan, Jamaican, Ukranian, Chinese, Irish and others I’m sure. We displayed various shades of skin colour. I mention all this to make it clear that, in writing this post, I’m not referring to a particular set of people based on class, race or ethnicity. My observation is a general one – and my observation is this: we – people – are careless, very careless. And this carelessness is no doubt damaging us on a day-to-day basis.  

What led me to this observation – brought it front of mind during the meditation course? Shoes.

The course site includes a large meditation hall. When you enter that building – the Dhamma Hall – you take off your shoes before going into the main room. You do the same when entering your sleeping quarters. One day, I found myself in the Hall observing the way many people had turned shoes with laces into slip-ons. That is, they stopped tying and untying their shoes and instead flattened out the heel support at the back of the shoe. In many of the shoes I saw, e.g., trainers (sneakers, if you are from the US), this involves cracking the back of the shoe. It is taking a perfectly good shoe and wrecking it.

A few days before attending the course, I had read something about a shoe company that makes bespoke shoes and I think – though I might be mis-remembering this – for every pair they make for paying customers, they create a pair to send to a child living in poverty. This bit of information came to mind, as I looked at all those broken shoes. Outrage bubbled up inside me as I thought about how people around the world would value having a decent pair of shoes and here were all these people ruining their shoes because they could not be bothered to tie and untie them when they entered the hall and their accommodations.

Careless. Totally careless.

We are so accustomed to having our basic needs met that we take them absolutely for granted. We also create waste – those crushed-heel shoes will last a lot less longer, which means new purchases, new shoemaking, new waste. Of course, all this was additionally maddening given where we were – a meditation centre where we were strengthening our capacity to be self-aware.

And I started wondering – what else are we careless about? I say ‘we’ even though I had purposefully brought a pair of clogs to the Centre, knowing my shoes would be regularly coming on and off. While I might not have been careless about my shoes, I’m sure I’m often careless in life – materially, linguistically, emotionally, physically.

We all must be quite careless as we multi-task and rush through our days.

No serious harm was done by people breaking the heels in their shoes and perhaps some people only brought already broken shoes with them for this purpose. Regardless, staring at those broken heel supports, I thought about how carefully someone who owns one pair of shoes will tend to them and value them – do everything they can to keep those shoes in good condition.

Imagine if we all regularly paused to think about what we are doing, and saying, how we are carrying our bodies as we move and sit, the impact of our always trying to do various tasks all at the same time. 

How would our lives change if we were all more careful? This isn’t in opposition to risk-taking – I’m all for taking risks in the form of leaps into the unknown. This is careful in the sense of having awareness of how we are being, doing and impacting on our selves and the world around us – when we are careless who and what are we de-valuing and breaking down? Who and what are we pushing into a state of total disrepair? Who and what are we failing to keep in good condition?

In what ways – for whom and in what activities – can you be more full of care?

 

 

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Alone, tired, frustrated and scared – in our society….

Posted on October 25, 2011 by seeandconnect

I’m a practicing mediator (including as a volunteer with an East London mediation service, Common Ground – yes, I am making a flagrant pitch for the organisation!). Today I did some coaching. The objective of the coaching was to help a woman who had requested mediation, but the other party – who had initially said yes – pulled out before the scheduled meeting. The idea with coaching was to work through different options for moving forward. This case was unusual for me – the primary dispute and request for mediation was in relation to a husband and wife.  I suspect I will be thinking about this coaching session a lot over the next days – I was deeply touched by it. And I ended it thinking – and saying to the interpreter – “Wow. I bet there are so many women like this one. It’s heartbreaking.” And so it is, that I want to tell her story – making changes, so that her anonymity is guaranteed. I have no concrete purpose in telling it, except to bring visibility to women like her.  I say ‘women like her’ with a bit of reluctance – because I believe that ‘women like her’ aren’t all that different from ‘women like me’  – that the story I heard today unfolds in different forms everywhere – cutting across class, race, religion, ethnicity, educational background etc.

I also believe that the fact this woman is experiencing what she is experiencing is a damming statement about our society. Yes, our – not ‘society’, not ‘the society’ or ‘her community’ – our society.  I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again – we all have responsibility for the culture we live in and the destruction around us. Our contributions to and involvement in our society take many different forms including, silence and passive complicity, active encouragement, active challenge, and unconscious encouragement (by unwittingly behaving in ways that undermine ethical values).  But that’s enough of my soapboxing – here’s Sasha’s story (with a few bits and pieces about our exchange).

Sasha is thirty four year’s old. She’s been this country for sixteen years. When she came she spoke no English. She had come with her new husband who spoke English to a decent level. She was scared, but excited to go live in another country. Eventually her family would be coming, too. She soon realized that the man she married was not the kind, gentle individual she had seen when they met and got to know each other. When they arrived in this country, she started to see his need for control, his temper, his impatience and what she would call his ‘cleverness.’

Fast forward, she is thirty four years old and her husband has left her. She has three children who are nine, thirteen and fifteen .  She is taking classes and her English is slowly improving. She understands more than she speaks. Her children are bilingual though their English is better than their mother-tongue. This means, she has discovered, that they do not do a very good job at translating for her – for example, when she has to talk with their teachers.

Sasha has no friends.  Her family has been in this country for almost all of the sixteen years that she has been here. When she told them of her situation, they offered up advice on different people she should talk to – mainly, public agencies – but no one from her family would go with her to make inquiries, support her with language or emotionally.

Sasha feels totally alone.

She also feels angry, frustrated, sad, and powerless.  And tired. She’s very tired of going from place to place to sort out different issues. And often, she has to struggle with language and/or poor service. When she goes to the Job Centre to sign on, she cries the whole way there because she is afraid they will yell at her. Her experience has been that they like to yell and talk aggressively. She has bad knees and a bad shoulder (the shoulder problem, I once heard is a common female ailment – our rotator’s cuffs get worn away and I imagine by the time she is forty, she’ll need surgery). Physically she is tired. Emotionally she is tired.

And, I feel it is appropriate to add, that I imagine she is soulfully tired.

Her children aren’t much help.  The teenagers, likely many young people their age, like to talk back and feign aloofness. When she asks them to help with household chores they resist. They say they are tired or too busy. Same goes for when she asks them to help her on the computer.  She’s aware that learning English and using the computer could open up her world – but it is a very slow journey when she is getting no support at home. She fears her children cannot be changed. 

On that point, we had a lovely exchange where she remembered a time when they were very small and used to pull up chairs and stand on them and help her with the dishes. One day her husband said that she shouldn’t let them do that – it would be bad for their hands. He said he would help her. And sometimes he did. But more often than not he didn’t. One of his ‘clever’ approaches was to send the children upstairs and stay with them, only to go down and offer to help when she was pretty much finished with all the washing up.

As we talked about this I encouraged her to see that her children once –upon-a-time wanted to be very helpful. I suggested that that desire is still within them, only right now it’s hidden. It can, however, be uncovered again. They can change.

We also talked about how the children must be struggling. They are probably feeling all that she is feeling and must be very confused. She would like to talk with them about what is happening in their family – but when she asks them to talk (as is often the case with children and teenagers) they say ‘I’m fine.’ She gave examples of how the children have expressed their frustration with their father and how they do not like having to ask him for things on her behalf.  The children, at times, just seem fed up with both parents. She thinks that they go back and forth between blaming each parent – if they are having an argument with her, for example, they will blame her for the family breakdown. If they are having an argument with their father, they will blame him.  We agreed that they must be very confused.

And we talked about her. ‘What are you good at?” I asked. “I’m not good at anything” was the reply. “Everybody’s good at something.” was my response. Eventually, she told me that at holiday times, when people from her ethnic community would get together, she would often have ideas on what food to make and how to arrange the table. The other women usually loved her ideas and wanted to use them. There we had it, something she’s good at. I suggested to her that she is also good at being organized – after all she runs a house with three children on her own. She keeps it clean, she looks after her children (cooking, cleaning etc), she’s studying English three days a week. 

And how about making friends – I asked if she was interested in doing that. Well, it turns out that she is worried about what people will think when they find out her husband has left her. She feels ashamed.

Shame. Wow. Tough stuff. We talked about how she isn’t unique in having a bad marriage. About how having a bad marriage doesn’t make her a bad person. Eventually we talked about the importance of her connecting with her own strength, with her power  – even though right now it feels like she doesn’t have either.

We talked about going on strike. Could she, I wondered, send a message to her children by going on strike – not cooking or cleaning. She figures that wouldn’t work – they would just happily be messy and go live on junk food. Maybe. It was only an idea – an idea for someone who felt like she had no options – like she had done all she could. 

Throughout this conversation, Sasha cried periodically. Nothing dramatic. I would first see the water fill up her eyes. And then a few tears would trickle. Early on she had left the room to get a stack of tissues. When it was all over, I asked Sasha what she felt she had got – if anything – out of our conversation. She said she felt more confident that ‘social workers’ – though she knows I am not a social worker ‘ could come over and hear her story and listen without judging her.  She felt more confident that they wouldn’t simply take her children away from her. That was a light bulb moment – she’s scared that in seeking assistance, her children might be taken away.

We came up with a few steps she could take immediately. One included going to her GP and explaining that her language skills are not good enough to respond to the letter she received about a psychological consultation (for her depression). The letter was asking her to call for an initial consultation on the phone and had a form to fill out with a number of questions about her mental health. It has a two-week response deadline on it. Thankfully, this had come up in our conversation and we could point out to her that she needs to take action by the last day of October. 

She clearly needs an advocate – someone to bat for her with all the public agencies. Often, when she goes to talk with people they are not very nice and/or they are rushed. Her language constraints become even more constraining in this kind of environment.   She needs emotional support. We agreed that there are organisations that might be able to help her with all these things.

It wasn’t said out loud, but it was clear. Sasha also needs love, tenderness, caring, and affirmations of her worth as a human being.

When I asked her what she was looking forward to over the next couple of weeks, she started to cry. Nothing. She isn’t looking forward to anything. She cannot imagine anything that was going to happen in the next two weeks that would make her smile.

She asked us if we wanted a drink. Previously we had said ‘no, thank you.’ But I asked the interpreter if she had time to stay. When she yes, I said we would very much like to stay for a drink. And so Sasha brought out a tray of biscuits, candy bars, two glasses of soda. She was smiling when she did that.

So much more I can/want to say. But it seems best to end there…thinking about our society how alone, tired, frustrated and scared so many people feel within it.

 

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Because life is a series of collaborations….

Posted on October 17, 2011 by seeandconnect

I am leaving my half-drafted post about collaboration, which I started last week, aside for the moment. Still want to write about collaboration, but from a different angle than originally intended. Yesterday, I was on a countryside walk (yup, I like me walks!) courtesy of a meetup group – a connection made through a new friend. There I was on a walk with nine people, eight of whom I had never met before and one whom I had only met briefly a week before (at a movement workshop). One of these walkers is called Taylor and in a very unexpected way we ended up talking about collaboration. My conversation with Taylor particularly drew my attention to three ideas: (1) we are constantly in processes of collaboration – life is comprised of a series of collaborations (2) what might help us enrich our collaborations is to have greater awareness of of what we are bringing to them, e.g. our assumptions, prejudices, narratives (3) each of our collaborations goes through stages/cycles and so in times of challenge we might benefit from asking ourselves “Where are we at this collaboration?” rather than simply concluding “This isn’t working and can’t work” or “You are just impossible to work with!”  

Before lunch, Taylor had asked me that age-old question: “What do you do?” Though it is a pretty open question, people ask it wanting to know “What do you do for a living?’ My answer: I support people involved in social change to work with conflict, engage with greater self-awareness, connect more deeply with their values and what’s important to them. I do all of this wanting to help people strengthen their efforts to drive social change – helping people not only to get out of their own way, but to unleash their inner assets. After lunch, she walked up to me and said “I think there is something you can help me with” and then told me she recently committed herself to a project called ‘Photography and Social Change’. As happens, I knew about this project – it had caught my eye in an email from GlobalNet21.  In any event, she started to say that she was interested in working with stills and video. That was the starting point from which we took a journey that went in all sorts of directions before explicitly finding its way to talk of collaboration.

Our dialogue pretty much involved me asking Taylor questions, e.g., What does the think of when she thinks social change? What does she think of when she thinks about working with photography? When she puts the two together? That’s how we began and then my questions responded to what seemed to be alive in Taylor in any given moment. I also did a lot of reflecting – saying to her what I thought I was hearing from her in terms of what’s important to her, what questions she’s grappling with, her assumptions, her passions, and so on. One milestone in the journey was the discovery that Taylor sees herself and others as storytellers and she wants to capture people’s stories. Another milestone was Taylor revealing that one idea which is really alive for her at the moment is that human beings are constantly on movement – that ‘elusive moment’ photographers sometimes say they want to capture is totally non-existent. That is, people are constantly in movement and having to adapt to the constant change around us. At the moment, when Taylor thinks social change, she thinks about this constant movement, adaptation, and flexibility. For her ‘social change’ is not something you do – it simply is how we are. And she also thinks about the stories of a particular group of people, when she thinks about social change. This includes this surprisingly varied relationships these people have with their identity – people’s stories can take us beneath what you see on (and often assume from) the surface.  

And so it is, that Taylor wants to get involved in this Photography and Social change project. She imagines that these two distinct ideas and topics will come together, though at this stage she doesn’t know how. Realising this was also a milestone in our journey. Turns out, Taylor was wanting clarity on how to proceed with being involved in this project. Our dialogue helped her see more clearly what’s important to her. Which brings me to yet another milestone – Taylor was in some ways reluctant to move forward on her involvement in this project because she had a fear of failing to be different. She figured this kind of work has been and redone before – that there was little point in doing something unless she could be original, unique, add something. She felt she had to try to come up with a new concept.

Well, we talked about this for a bit – really focusing on the idea that the best way for anyone to come out with something valuable is to connect with their own truth. Her valuable and unique contribution to the project will be the result of her sharing what is true for her – we each have our distinct, unique voice (rooted in our life experience, perspectives, and connections) and this is our gift. We talked about how artists whose work resonates widely have connected with their truth, and in doing so, connected also to a bigger, universal truth. Hugely successful movies and stories (I’m thinking Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and a whole host of fairy tales) draw upon archetypes. I doubt the artists are doing this consciously – it is more of a channeling that happens, a channeling of the universal that tends to arise when we connect deeply with our selves, our inner knowings. But I won’t delve to deeply into this subject right now (maybe a future post!). The point is, another milestone for Taylor was to let go of this idea that she had to try and come up with something new. Instead – and it is likely to involve a lot less try – she could focus on expressing herself and what is truly alive within her. She liked this idea – it got her thinking of the journey ahead as a process of emergence and discovery. 

It was on this note we sort of wrapped up this dialogue. We both had enjoyed the exchange; I very much enjoy helping someone with their opening up/expansion  process and she felt relaxed and was pleased to have gained some clarity on what matters to her. At this point, Taylor mentioned that she was kind of surprised by our exchange, because she doesn’t normally collaborate so easily. Yes, she really did use the word ‘collaborate’  – not a word I would have chosen to describe what we had been doing. I just thought we were having a conversation. Mutual gratitude shared, we moved on to engaging with others. But when the opportunity arose, I re-connected with Taylor on this subject. I latched onto this idea – did she really see our dialogue as a form of collaboration? And what does she normally find are inhibitors to collaboration? She is, she explained, afraid of getting things wrong, only wanting to present ideas when she feels they are full developed, if not perfect. And she finds it difficult to trust people easily. 

And so from there we talked at length about the fear of getting things wrong, about trust, about silliness (sometimes, Taylor gets frustrated by the ways people connect with each other on-line only to be silly and jokey. She sees this as a waste of time. I suggested it might be part of their getting to know each other and trust-building process). We talked about collaboration. Eventually, we stumbled upon what felt like a big milestone for both of us. Taylor had said she isn’t very good at collaborating. But is that true? We ended up weaving a different story/ painting another picture. Taylor is slow to trust people and sometimes quick to be dismissive of them.  She can’t openly engage with people unless she trusts them, respects them. We took this information and created the following narrative: Taylor can collaborate and often does so – but usually it takes her a long time to feel free to open herself up with others. So, in some situations the collaboration process gets off to a very slow start. And sometimes, it never gets off the ground because she closes down, and decides she couldn’t possibly open herself up with a certain person or group of people. As we talked, the idea came to me: life is a series of collaborations. And we agreed: Taylor is constantly collaborating with people; she’s just at different stages in different contexts. 

And what followed is that a key stage for Taylor, in collaboration, is the building trust stage. But even that takes a certain amount of open-ness – a willingness to connect and engage, despite doubts and reservations. This led to her own admission – she likes to make assumptions and can be quick to do so – a big collaboration inhibitor. So, in the future, she might help the situation by asking ‘Do I trust this person/these people? If not, why not and how can I come to trust them – what would it take on my part? On their part?’ In doing so, she keeps the possibility of collaboration open.

And as for the perfectionist in her – well, we revisited that, too. If, as she now understands, we are in a state of constant flux and movement then it becomes hard to capture anything fully – including a concept or an idea. So, striving perfection is futile – everything is a work in progress. 

And so it is, that these three ideas about collaboration are very alive within me right now: (1) we are constantly in processes of collaboration – life is comprised of a series of collaborations (2) what might help us enrich our collaborations is to have greater awareness of what we are bringing to them, e.g. our assumptions, prejudices, narratives (3) each of our collaborations goes through stages/cycles and so in times of challenge we might benefit from asking ourselves “Where are we at this collaboration?” rather than simply concluding “This isn’t working and can’t work” or “You are just impossible to work with!”  

Thanks, Taylor (not her real name) – for collaborating with me on exploring the art of collaboration. We didn’t plan it or force it – we just let it unfold as we walked a long. It was fun, light, thought-provoking and I thoroughly enjoyed it! 

 

 

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Untitled

Posted on October 17, 2011 by seeandconnect

I am leaving my half-drafted post about collaboration, which I started last week, aside for the moment. Still want to write about collaboration but from a different angle than originally intended. Yesterday, I was on a countryside walk (yup, I like me walks!) courtesy of a Meet up! group – a connection made through a new friend. There I was on a walk with nine people, eight of whom I had never met before and one whom I had only met briefly a week before (at a movement workshop). One of these walkers is called Michael and in a very unexpecte way we ended up talking about collaboration. My conversation with Michael particularly drew my attention to three ideas: (1) we are constantly in processes of collaboration – life is comprised of a series of collaborations (2) what might help us enrich our collaborations is to have greater awareness of of what we are bringing to them, e.g. our assumptions, prejudices, narratives (3) each of our collaborations goes through stages/cycles and so in times of challenge we might benefit from asking ourselves “Where are we at this collaboration?” rather than simply concluding “This isn’t working and can’t work” or “You are just impossible to work with!”

 

 

 

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Untitled

Posted on October 12, 2011 by seeandconnect

I enjoyed Monday, 10th October. It was thought-provoking, I met new people with different perspectives. I felt affirmed in my approaches to leadership, engagement and collaboration. I expanded physically and mentally. What did I do? I attended two very different yet related events. From 10am to 5pm I was at the RSA with nineteen people I hadn’t met before. Well, okay, I had attended an Ethical Fitness® workshop with one person in February 2010 – but I didn’t know that until I arrived and she didn’t make the connection until I did. Not knowing the organisers or other participants, I haven’t a clue how I got invited to this ‘Collaboration Colloquium’ as they called it. Yet, in the spirit of adventure, and really in the mood to meet new people and hear different ideas, I went along. In the evening, I went to a workshop run by the School of Movement Medicine, called Move! I could write a lot about both happenings. What I’ll stick to is a space where they intersect – a space which is increasingly becoming a passionate interest for me: the relationship between individual personal transformation and systemic/structural change.

a space where I new I was see familiar friendly faces and new ones, a very safe space where I could be in and express my truth. I can write a lot about both.

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Learnings along the Cotswold Way….

Posted on October 8, 2011 by seeandconnect

Last weekend, I went on a four day, fifty mile walk along the Cotswold Way. My friend Olivia Sprinkel and I use these walks for exercise, connection with nature and connection with our selves through focused dialogue, awareness, and meditation. We also, social types that we are, tend to end up connecting with other people – people we meet randomly along the way. This trip seemed more social than other ones – we had quite a few lengthy conversations. We talked with farmers, a publican, B&B owners and the owner of a Cheltenham tea shop (the oldest one in town, I believe). The learning that stands out the most to me is not to assume and to be open – people are full of surprises and different perspectives . And so here I am, eager to report on a dinner conversation along the Cotswold Way.

Our first night we stayed in North Farmcote at a B&B run by David (we highly recommend it!). To our surprise, when he gave us a lift to a nearby pub for dinner, he intended for it to be a group event. So it is, that Olivia and I had dinner with David, Rowan and Michael, and Annie. David runs his B&B while also being a farmer – sheep, I believe (somehow, we didn’t find out, only know that in the afternoon he has been baling – though what I’m not sure – could be hay, straw, silage….). Rowan and Michael are a retired farming couple from South Devon. Their farm was dairy. Rowan also runs a <a href=" http://www.pittaford.co.uk/” title=”Pittaford Farm” target=”_blank”>B&B (yes a shameless plug, though we have not stayed there!) on their property. Annie, well, Annie is a former professional singer-turned-voice coach. She grew up in the area and is a friend of David. 

That evening we were told that smallhold dairy farming – at least in Devon – is in a state of demise. Where Rowan and Michael come from, the number of smallhold (I think, but am not sure, this is the correct term to use) dairy farms have gone from 23 to 1. I’ve heard it said that dairy farming is bad for the environment – an argument usually made by vegetarians and vegans. If we use this as our springboard, we might think it a good thing – this demise of the dairy farmer in south England. However, the reality is that this is a country full of meat and dairy consumers. As independent dairy farms disappear, they are being replaced by factory/insdustrial farms: mass production for mass consumption. And as I understand it, factory farming is not good for the consumer, the animal or the environment. Where domestic factory farming is inadequate either David or Michael explained – and this was very much news to me – England imports its milk from Poland. Now, I’m neither expert environmentalist nor economist, but that just seems daft on both fronts. In fact, Olivia revealed that possibly my favourite yogurt producer – Yeo Valley, which I always assumed was end-to-end a domestic product (because of the claims it makes) – actually uses milk from Poland! Pah! Rather deceptive advertising if it is true…

We heard about how farming is hard work. A lot of farms disappear because the children of farmers grow up and think ‘I’m not going to do this – slog it out day after day only to be in a precarious financial situation.” A smallhold farm requires labour, but sometimes it is too small to be able to employ labour – so without family commitment, a farm goes down.Some people might argue this is ‘progress’ – industrialisation and no need for such hard, menial labour – it frees people up to pursue other, more enriching activities.  That’s the subject of another conversation/post. What struck me most about our dinner chat was that these folks were very cross with Government.  

Our dinner companions shared the view that Government is ignoring the interests of small farmers. Government isn’t actively doing anything to harm them, but also isn’t doing anything to help them. Everyone around the table agreed that when it comes to food production in England, the large supermarkets are in control – not Government. Olivia and I  were surprised – and later discussed this- because we figured the Coalition is the type of government that would be out there supporting small farmholds and we assumed that the Cotswolds was diehard Tory territory. On the latter point, I’m still sure it is, but I am now curious to know how many of the folks out in the countryside are disenchanted with the Coaltion – and not just because of any Lib-Dem influence upon it…  And, of course, I enjoyed the idea that we lefty urbanites who are frustrated by chain supermarket domination of the high streets have common ground with large sections of rural folk who otherwise are likely to be Tory supporters.

There was one mention of governmental engagement with smallhold farmers: regulations requiring that farmers don’t mess too much with surrounding environment. I think we’re talking here about government wanting to ensure farmers are encouraging bio-diversity on their smallholds. Which, of course, a lot of lefties I know would be keen to support. I didn’t get a clear sense of how much these regulations do or don’t bug farmers… but, of course, it reminded me that there are Tory environmentalists – that perhaps the Green movement readily transcends other forms of political ideology. Again, subject of another post (one that I will never write, because I don’t know huge amounts about the Green movement, though the Cotswold conversation has got me thinking more than I ever have about food production…). 

We moved on from the subject of farming to immigration. Yup, that old chestnut. Now, you might think, being the only non-White person at the table and possibly in the pub, I’d stay away from that topic. But for starters, when these folks think of immigration, they firstly think of Polish people. And, truth be told, they think of how wonderful they are. Michael told a story of how he went into a shop to get parts for some mechanical equipment. When he realised the person behind the counter was Polish, he was instinctively annoyed – assumed their English wouldn’t be good and he wouldn’t get the help he needed. He came in not sure about exactly what part he needed to fix what he wanted to fix. So, he didn’t just want to buy a part, he wanted advice. Well, he described to the best of this ability what he thought he needed and what types of parts he might be looking for. After a little while, the woman – yes, I do believe it was a woman – behind the counter did that gesture of ‘hang on, I know just the thing’, grabbed the ladder, climbed up the shelves to a set of boxes and came down with a part. Lo and behold, when she showed him what she had brought down and why she chose that particular part, he knew he had exactly what he needed. 

Now Michael’s conclusion to this story was that if an English person – probably in their late teens, early twenties – had been behind the counter, they would have just said, ‘Nope, sorry, we can’t help you.’ In the run up to this story there had been a lot of head-nodding about the proposition that ‘immigrants take the jobs nobody here seems to be willing to do.’ And Michael’s story seemed to be adding to that assumption: ‘And they do a helluvabetter job than our people would.’ Now, you are thinking that I’m dissing ‘British Youth’ and/or that the thing is these Polish people are undercutting wages – they work for less. And when I hear that I’m not going to say who is right or wrong. Rather, I start thinking: ‘Yeh, this is a complex picture – which is why it is important to look at it from many different angles and perspectives, to explore deeply the different types of information and insight it gives us.’

We did talk a little bit about immigrants from elsewhere – courtesy of Annie who has been doing a lot of work lately up in Birmingham. Of course, the people we were probably calling immigrants were probably not ‘immigrants’ at all. Some were no doubt born and raised in this country. This is a bugbear of  mine – when do people stop becoming immigrants here? I mean, there is no such thing as a ‘2nd-generation immigrant’ – you are either an immigrant or you aren’t – and I wish we’d toss that phrase and others like it out of existence.  But that is by the by. Annie – like Michael – tended to associate immigrants with people who work hard. 

Now, this is potentially working up what is called a ‘positive stereotype’ – well, for the immigrants at least. And we have to be careful here – stereotypes (negative and positive) have a tendency to constrain dialogue as we put people in boxes, and take positions based on overly-simplified assumptions.That said, I was pleased to be in rural England, talking with farmers and locals about immigrants and hearing nothing but nice words said. And I told them this – I said, back in London one gets the idea that everyone outside of London is an immigrant-hating fiend, and I was glad we could be having a conversation where that wasn’t the case. 

In response,  Michael added the point that immigrants were bringing new ideas to this country, including in farming. He had heard that in farmers in other parts of the country were growing all sorts of new types of vegetables in order to meet different food preferences. Am I now going to assume that the xenophobia we hear about and see signs of is exagerrated?  Well, a little bit. I do wonder sometimes if some politicians and media voices are stoking fires, trying to pit people against one another so they can come out as the heroes who save the day from the undesirable ‘invaders.’ At the same time, I know racism and prejudice exists in significant enough levels and forms (in and out of rural England) that we can’t be complacent about. And I’m clear that one friendly dinner conversation in a rural pub isn’t necessarily at all representative of what’s out there.

Nevertheless, as a result of this conversation, I think I’m going to soften my armour a bit – soften that guard I put up, as a Brown-skinned person, outside of London or sometimes in London among certains groups of White people….I’ll move through the world with greater attention to making no assumptions about people and instead being open when I engage with them. And even when something comes up where I think ‘uh-oh, here we go….’, I’ll do my best to continue open and expansive conversation – because getting aggressive and defensive is unlikely to open up the other person to new perspectives. 

And that’s my reporting on Olivia and Veena’s dinner in North Farmcote….more reportage from the Cotswold Way coming soon!

 

 

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Untitled

Posted on September 28, 2011 by seeandconnect

In the past few days, I’ve had a few different conversations about the riots. In particular, we talked about what I call the ‘Broom Brigade’. These are the folks who were out with brooms the day after the worst rioting in Hackney, for example. We also had the street party activists who were keen to take a stand by celebrating their neighbourhood and supporting local shops (whose owner’s had stood ground during the riots to protect their properties and livelihoods). I wrote about all these folks a few weeks ago (Moral Courage, Divisions Between People and Self-Awareness). I said ‘good on ’em!’ while raising the question as to where were they during the rioting. I mean, what if 500 people had gathered out on the streets to claim them in the name of non-violence at the time of the rioting? Well, my friends – to my surprise – were quick to say that they had some discomfort with the broom brigade (we didn’t atually talk about the street party activists). What these different conversation has got me thinking about is: Yes, let’s talk to people who did the rioting to try and understand what the various causes might be – but what about the middle people, the predominantly middle (and I suspect, White) class people who grabbed their brooms and – according to one friend – allowed themselves to be photographed sweeping the street when in fact Hackney Council had dones a fabulous job getting things tidied up in the early morning hours? Because these people in these neighbourhoods have a significant role to play 

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Sharing Wangarai Maathai’s beautiful video: “I will be a Hummingbird”

Posted on September 28, 2011 by seeandconnect

Nobel winner Wangarai Maathai died on Sunday, 25 September. She leaves a bountiful legacy. This week, I am thinking of the paths she chose, the adversity she faced, the courage she lived, the dedicated Hummingbird she was. 

She inspires me to nurture my passion to seek clarity of my values and live by them, to work hard, to wear bright colours, to smile, to laugh, to give and receive constantly, to share, to think and do.

I thank her.

“I will be a Hummingbird” – the video.

 

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Here’s some advice to the Lib Dems on diversity……

Posted on September 20, 2011 by seeandconnect

I got up this morning and on the news I was hearing that the Lib Dems want to diversify, meaning they don’t want to be – as I call it – so Vanilla or as the radio commentator was saying, ‘White, male and pale.” It seems that they are taking action by setting up an ethnic minority leaders programme. I share the cynicism people have about the idea that any political party should seek to get more ethnic minority voters by getting more ethnic minority candidates; at the same time, I can see the logic there – not that ethnic minority individuals better represent ethnic minority individuals, but that the absence of them/us in any Party suggests some sort of lacking when it comes to equality.  And as one interviewee rightly summarized, some ethnic minority individuals will welcome proposals for an ethnic minority leaders programme and some will be totally – and understandably – be put off by it. 

I laughed when I was listening to all this because I was thinking of my fleeting encounter with the Lib Dems. At the end of 2009, I decided I would like to work with them. This was after attending a Democrats-Abroad UK event where Nick Clegg spoke  – I liked what he said. I approached him afterwards and was quickly pointed to one of his special advisors – who, I’m guessing was about 26, blond, definitely middle class (if not higher). A young, bright thing – as the label goes, though I discourage anyone from calling anyone else ‘thing.’ He gave me his card and said to send in my CV with a few sentences about my interests.

I did just that and I mentioned two interests (1) localism and asset-based community development and (2) diversity in relation to public procurement and commissioning. I emphasised that my interests are in policy development. Eventually I got a meeting with someone whom I was led to believe worked in policy. I turned up at Lib Dem HQ in Westminster. We went somewhere else to have a coffee.

And then it became quickly apparent to me – they had me meeting a British Asian person (I’m of Indian descent) who was part of their ethnic minority outreach team – with a remit of trying to attract ethnic minorities to support the Lib Dems. He (I’m not worried about keeping this person anonymous, because he wanted me to tell this story back then – so if you work with the Lib Dems and his gender and ethnicity give him away, well….so be it, as long as this is not held against him in any way!) immediately realised what was going on, after hearing my introductory spiel. Maybe I was being sensitive, but here’s how it read to me: young, bright, White advisor sees the color of my skin and/or my name and blanks out everything I say/write. He never heard/understood that I was interested in policy – let alone my specific areas of interest.

This in mind, I felt very irritated with the Lib Dems and in that meeting.  The person I met with said this was pretty standard Lib Dem practice and asked me to write in a complaint to raise the issue more widely. At the time, I didn’t have the energy/inclination for doing that.  I regret this omission. Change happens through awareness-raising, which requires people speaking up.

My advice to the LibDems (and any Party) – if you want to outreach to ethnic minority individuals in different ways, e.g. as voters, as potential candidates, and potential staffers/advisors:

  1. See us as individuals who, like everyone, have diverse interests and backgrounds, which means…
  2. Make no assumptions about us based on color, name, religion, ethnicity etc.
  3. Constantly ensure you are reflective – checking your assumptions and beliefs and how they influence your interactions with people who do not look and/or speak like you or have a non-Anglo name.
  4. Recognise and act on the fact that ethnic minority individuals  – like everyone else – want political representatives who share their principles and policy positions, across a range of issues, and not all of us want to spend energy talking about ‘diversity’ (though I happen to be one that does, but only as one of many political and social interests I have)
  5. Constantly keep thinking about diversity of experience and perspective generally – I imagine it would be a useful exercise, for example, to reflect on how diverse Lib Dems are as simply as a community of White people.

I’m sure there are more tips I could/should be giving you….but this feels like a good start.

And I’m glad I’m finally telling this story – because at the time of the incident,  I was really quite angry about it – as Party leaders were saying today: the Lib Dems claim to stand for fairness and equality, but their appearance says different. But let’s be clear here – appearance is merely one indicator and also is not the best performance measure.  Ultimately it is behaviors and choices in relation to public policy that tell the story –  not speeches, sound-bites and promises – and it is by their behaviors and choices in public policy that any political party should be measured on its performance in promoting equality.

 

 

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The ramblings of two Mid-Westerners in London….(another random connection)

Posted on September 19, 2011 by seeandconnect

In my last post, I documented a random encounter at Chicago O’Hare airport. This time, I’m thinking about an encounter I had when I landed in London Heathrow on Saturday morning. I got to the Heathrow Express ticket machines and saw a young woman whom I believed had been on my plane. She was staring at a large unfolded tube map and looking befuddled. So, I went up to her and said ‘I think you were on my flight and you look confused. Can I help?” “I need to get to Sheffield” she explained.  She then turned my attention to the map and followed the Picadilly line with her finger – “I think I take this, but where do I find it and what do I do from there?” “Ahh, of course” I replied after I had overcome my shock at her end destination being Sheffield, “You are wanting to take a train up to Sheffield and I’m not sure, but I think they leave from King’s Cross.” Sure enough on her map, King’s Cross was highlighted in pink.  “You know what, I need to save money and the tube is the best way to do that, I’ll go with you. But you do realize that you might have to be chatty along the way and we might encounter lots of stairs.” 

“Oh no problem, I love to talk and at each point where I’ve needed it, someone’s helped me with my bags.” Off we went.

Francis (not her real name) and I slowly navigated our way through to the tube. She bought an Oyster Card (which you can now get straight from the machine) and we found her a seat on the Picadilly line while I stood. For a bit we were silent, both tired after an overnight flight. I was actually happy to go either way – chatty or quiet. Eventually, though I can’t remember what prompted it, the conversation began and it did not stop until we parted ways at King’s Cross (I would normally get out at Holborn to change to the Central Line which would take me to Bethnal Green from where I would walk home – but I was enjoying the conversation so much and I was a bit concerned about Francis finding her way through the King’s Cross labyrinth, I changed my route).

And here’s the ground we covered:

Francis – I never found out her age, but I’m guessing she is about twenty four – is from the South Side of Chicago. This is generally the African-American side of Chicago, with parts of it being ghettos. In the same way that I didn’t venture to the South Side until I was about twenty-four (I went to go hear an Operation Push Saturday sermon with Jesse Jackson and was befriended by a preacher who gave me a tour of the ‘hood), Francis had only made it North for the first time in her early twenties.

I explained to Francis that I had the fear of death literally instilled in me as a teenager when it came to Chicago – turn down the wrong street and you’ll get shot. She confirmed that when she was growing up – which would be about fifteen years after I was – there were days where she went to school with her mom clinging on to her and shielding her from gunfire.  I remember my tour – my first live and in-person experience of the Southside: burnt-out highrise apartment blocks with elevated, busy freeway roads looming in the background. I remembered that there was an Irish neighborhood nearby and that a few years (mid-late nineties) after going there I read about how a Black kid had been playing hoops, accidentally stayed after dark, and had the crap beat out of him – was in hospital, paralyzed. 

We joked about how her sister moved to Lincoln Park. “Wow! That’s pretty vanilla!” was my observation. Sister is now in Wicker Park, which by Francis’ account is arty, more mixed  – has not gotten to that point where all the low-income folk (which is often code for ‘people of color’) can still afford to live there. Francis bemoaned the way that neighbourhoods get mixed up like that and they are funky and cool but then eventually they become too expensive for folks who originally lived there and, well, the coolness fades and so, too, does the color. I nodded my head, thinking that she was – in some ways – describing my East End neighbourhood here in London.

Francis was in England to take courses at Sheffield University. She is doing a degree in criminal law at a notoriously lefty, Midwestern University. Her White boyfriend just accepted a teaching job at a university in New York – so she eventually might move out East. She says her mom doesn’t care about the racial difference and observed that, frankly, with one out of every three Black men her age in prison (a stat I had thrown out at some point – which I’ve come across a few times in recent years), the odds are stacked against her meeting one.

Speaking of being a Black man in the US, the reason Francis had gone into criminal law was because her brother had done time – and I confirmed, rightly so. She reckoned the whole experience did him good, but acknowledged that isn’t often the case and people aren’t always in jail based on a fair trial and sentence and too often have inadequate support then they leave prison. She astutely (I thought) observed that prison knocks you down – take strip searches, for example – and then keeps your there. She didn’t have a problem with knocking people down – that’s what they sometimes need – but she went onto explain how people need to then be picked back up. Take the military, she suggested, for the most part, people are knocked down and then picked up – given confidence and self-value (we agreed, that it doesn’t always work to such good effect). Prison – she concluded – generally just drops people, drags them down and that’s how they are feeling when the come out: dropped and dragged.

Francis is the first person in her family to take a trip out of the country. She is hoping her sister, the one living in Wicker Park doing a Masters in Fine Arts, will come visit her. Francis is one of many children – she didn’t want to give an exact count – and reckons that by the time it came to her and her sister, her mom had learned a lot and it meant they’ve managed to rise up out of the ‘hood.  She also had the benefit of a decent education. Her neighbourhood borders an Irish ‘hood – and so there was a good school – I didn’t quite hear her, but I think it is a public magnet school, with an advanced curriculum, where even the Irish (Irish-Americans) sent their children. But, she says, that school now is more mixed ability and the standards have dropped, the Irish families don’t send their kids there and the opportunities just aren’t the same.

One strand of our chatter led to me mentioning a couple of White friends who adopted a Black baby boy from Alabama – to which Francis exclaimed ‘Oh, lucky boy!” Yes, we agreed, being a Black male in the U.S. ain’t easy, being a Black male in Alabama  – well, sub-ideal.  Francis insisted that she thinks that would be the worst thing ever; she would never want to come into this world as an African-American male. I explained to her that I had connected my friends with an African-American friend of my sister – to help them out with their son’s Afro-hair.  Francis has stunning hair and often gets asked about it by strangers – how does she do it, they want to know. I got the impression she doesn’t like that sort of random questioning so much. She doesn’t want to be thought of as some Afro-hair expert; she’s just worked out how to manage her own hair through trial and error over the years.

I observed that I did wonder if my friends would need more than hair-care advice as time goes by – because they are raising a Black boy in the US. Francis gave the example of a White couple she knew who had adopted an Ethiopian boy. She reckons they were letting him be a bit of a wild child and she told them (or wants to tell them) that they needed to reel him in, because his sense of freedom might be accepted in a White child, but in a Black boy, he’ll be seen as ‘out of control’.  “He needs tough boundaries” she sighed.

We meandered along in our chatter, as the tube passed through Earl’s Court and into central London. We also hit upon the subject of Asians in England. When people hear ‘Asian’ in the US, they think East Asian – Chinese, Japanese, Korean for example. Here, people think South Asian – Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Indian. I told her that it struck me how in some ways, South Asian migrants here are a bit like Latinos in the US. This is a new thought for me; it came about as I observed all the workers of South Asian descent (who knows who is a migrant and who is British-born) holding fort at the airport.

A big difference, though – she made me see – is language. The Spanish language is spreading like wildfire in the US. Everything is bilingual. I was astonished when I was in Manhattan and felt like I could go into almost any shop and speak Spanish and would be fine. Ditto for Chicago. It was not this way ten years ago. Here, in the UK, however, the numbers are incomparable – so, while we have some bilingual pockets and public service information in multiple languages, there isn’t a single second language that is being integrated into British culture more widely. Though let’s be clear – it isn’t that your average American is now going out of her/her way to learn Spanish – just that more children, at least in cities, might find themselves in a bilingual school and it isn’t uncommon to see billboards in Spanish or to have a Spanish option when calling about a service.

I don’t speak any South Asian languages, including that of my parents. For this reason (perhaps combined with my lack of Hindu religious practice), a lot of the South Asians I’ve met here consider me a Coconut.  We used to joke when I was working for a London-based Black (as in Asian, African, Caribbean) organisation, that I was their token White liberal. I told all this to Francis, only after explaining that a Coconut here is like an Oreo back home – Brown/Black on the outside, White on the inside. Francis said that she reckons it isn’t surprising – after all, most of the Indians she meets in the Mid-west all hang around White people.  Sometimes, she observed, it is because there just aren’t that many of their own kind. 

As we were getting close to King’s Cross, we started to stumble into talking about the Riots – she wanted to know more and though I wasn’t in-country when they happened, I have lived in Bow/Bethnal Green/Hackney areas for over fifteen years, have given much thought to the London Riots, and would love another time to have that chat with her.

Because just at the point where we might have chatted about the riots, we got to King’s Cross and our focus turned to navigation. I got Francis pointed in the right direction to hit King’s Cross rail station, while I headed for the Northern Line to take me to Old Street. As did Francis earlier in her trip, I also (thankfully) found myself assisted by people as and when needed – to carry my bag (which weighed as much as I do) up a long flight of stairs at Old Street and then up three flights of stairs to get to my flat! 

I was/am excited for Francis. I told her as much and said she must look me up when she comes to London – including if she needs a place to stay – and certainly if she needs help in any way to navigate this foreign country. She’s looking forward to traveling and exploring. I hope her sister manages to come out here for a visit. It is a long way from the South Side of Chicago to the North Side, never mind getting to Sheffield. It must have taken a lot of resilience to make the journey. I admire that.

I’ve since received an email from Francis and expect to keep in touch, if not see her in the coming months. I have no conclusions to draw from our random connection – though I found it interesting and she gave me much food for thought which I will digest over time.

And that’s the ground we covered and another random connection for which I am grateful.  

Thanks Francis!

 

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