Active Respect

Respect and tolerance are two different but intertwined concepts – it’s hard to have one without the other. It is my belief that actively practicing both improves life for ourselves and those around us. These are a few examples from my own life of when respect has been active or missing, and how this impacted both on me and those I was interacting with.

As a student I lived in a shared house with several friends. Ask anyone who has been in that situation and they will tell you it is a tough situation and can stretch friendships to breaking point. I couldn’t see it at the time, but looking back with perspective, distance and a little age and wisdom, I can see that the root cause of most of the friction is that we just didn’t respect each other or the house enough. None of us thought about how seemingly tiny actions could have a much larger effect on others. The tiny action of one person leaving the tea towel either in a heap or spread out meant a bigger impact on the next person having a usable tea towel or not. We all had these little habits that smacked of lack of respect and caused a drop in tolerance. I’m glad to say we’ve all grown up a lot since then and are still in contact and on good terms.

When paying off my student debt I worked as a cleaner for my local council. One particular office had a lot of paper filing that involved punching holes in the corner of papers, often a hundred sheets or more in one sitting. The hole punch didn’t have a catch tray and the little punched-out circles ended up all over the floor. A significant portion of my time was taken up cleaning up unnecessary mess, leaving less time for the more necessary tasks. You can be certain that when I started worked as a filing clerk I did all my hole punching over the bin – just a few seconds of my time to pull it out from under my desk would make the cleaner’s job much less frustrating.

We’re probably all familiar with trying to join a motorway with the nearside lane full and the other lanes empty. It’s a situation that is both frustrating and dangerous. How much nicer is it when one of those cars moves over to make space? Such a small action on their part, but the fact they have noticed you and helped you can make the whole journey less stressful.

We’re frequently too busy thinking about our own lives to notice the people we impact with these tiny disrespectful actions or inactions. They are invisible to us. It is impossible to respect someone when you don’t even see that they exist. We don’t deliberately try to wind them up, but we also don’t deliberately try to prevent winding them up. It’s important not to think of these things as irritations, but as opportunities to do better. If it annoys you when pedestrians walk into the road without looking, make sure you look (and are seen to be looking) when you cross the road. If it makes you smile when someone nods hello at you in the street, take to nodding at strangers.

The flip side of these small acts of respect is to acknowledge and appreciate when people do them for us. It encourages them to do it again and it helps us spot ways we can be more pro-active in our respect. I always try to be the car that moves over and the nods and waves I get in recognition and thanks make my journey more pleasant.

In trying to embed respect and appreciation in our lives, our family has instituted a Family Treats Jar. When one of us appreciates something someone else has done, we give them a coin (of any value). All the coins go in the jar and every now and then we empty it and enjoy something special together. It gives visibility and tangible benefit to both the act and the appreciation and helps our children understand the importance of them.

 

There is a lot of talk about microaggressions, privilege, and how we are all too often just horrible to each other without even realising. These are important discussions, but I think it’s just as important to have the opposite conversation, to celebrate the mass of tiny positive things we can do and effects we can have. Maybe we need a new word for it. What do you think about doing microfavours?

Not forgotten

When I was a teenager my grandad  invited me to join him in the celebration of the 50th anniversary of V-J Day. As part of a concert he and I stood side by side: I read a promise on behalf of the youth of the day to remember those who suffered for our freedom, then he read the Kohima Epitaph. I honour this promise often, but especially and most outwardly in early November.

Memorial of 2nd British Division, War Cemetery in Kohima

The Fourteenth Army, who fought in Burma during the Second World War, are often known as the Forgotten Army. People had heard of places like France and Germany; they’re on Britain’s doorstep. But few had heard of a distant corner of the British Empire called Burma and the press of the day weren’t interested in enlightening them.

I understand you believe you’re the forgotten army. That’s not true … The truth is nobody’s ever bloody well heard of you!

Lord Louis Mountbatten, Far East Commander, addressing men in Burma in 1943.

But I have, and I remember.

The Fourteenth Army was a multinational force, with many units from India and some from East and West Africa. Alongside British-born white men fought men of every shade of brown and black, representing at least three continents.

When I see so-called British Nationalists usurping remembrance for their own xenophobic ends I wonder if they know what Britain really means. The British Empire did many terrible things in her arrogant, expansionist history. But as the empire faded and the commonwealth grew, she repaired a lot of the damage and made strong allies along the way.

Gurkhas first served alongside Brits after a peace treaty was signed between Britain and Nepal in 1816. The Brigade of Gurkhas are currently serving in Afghanistan.

Nearly half a million Muslims fought for Britain in WWI. During WWII, volunteers swelled the Indian Army from 189,000 to over 2.5M. Over a third of these were Muslims and many more were Sikhs.

After Poland was broken in WWII, over 8000 Polish airmen ended up in Britain. After an initial wariness (caused largely by German propaganda) the RAF formed a number of Polish fighter squadrons, who contributed greatly to the war.

These are just a few examples of people from different countries and cultures serving under British command. This year and every year I remember those who fought for this small island, regardless of whether they were born here. Even as I hope desperately that our world will become less bloody, I give thanks to each and every person who has ever stood and fought for my freedom.

I remember.

Dear men, let’s talk about periods…

You probably don’t want to talk about periods. When periods are so much as hinted at around men the conversation is quite often either shut down or turned into immature jokes. One woman even had photos removed from Instagram because she dared to depict menstruation in a non-graphic way. I’m so used to the responses that I try to steer clear of the conversation. Even if it’s directly relevant, like if someone notices I’m not ok and asks, I avoid the subject if there’s a man present. I don’t say that I feel like there’s a knot of barbed wire in my abdomen, instead I’ll just shrug and say something vague about not sleeping well last night.

Rupi Kaur’s photo was removed from Instagram for being “offensive”

You probably don’t want to talk about periods, but they matter. They are part of the reproductive cycle that made you, me and every other human being on the planet possible. Roughly half the world’s population will experience them numerous times in their adult lives, including almost all the women you know. If someone dear to you was in pain and upset, you’d want to know, you’d want to help, right? Of course you would.

But periods are gross!

Yeah, I guess. But no more so than farts, snot, ear wax or the blood that drips out when you cut yourself shaving. We women have become quite adept at just cleaning up and getting on with life. I’m not asking you to become intimately acquainted with all the details, but not freaking out when they get mentioned would be nice.

Some things are for women only

Yeah, like bras and bikinis, but most men seem happy to talk about them. I’ve heard it said that women have periods and men suffer from them. Wouldn’t it be good if you knew a little bit more about them and could maybe mitigate that suffering for everyone’s sake?

It turns her into a bitch once a month, what more do I need to know?

Lots of things can make women seem like bitches, such as being patronised, or called a bitch, or having their emotional responses ridiculed. Donald Trump may have noticed this effect lately. Periods can make some women sensitive, but just because it’s hormones doesn’t make it any less real, and just because she’s emotional doesn’t make her wrong.

Kiran Gandhi ran the London Marathon without a tampon

Also, periods affect everyone differently. Some women get debilitating pain, some feel bloated and lethargic, some barely notice any symptoms. Not many run marathons. In January, the BBC talked to a number of sportswomen about how their periods affected their game. They were brave enough and honest enough to share their stories and break “the last taboo“. Last year Buzzfeed staff drew what it felt like to them.

OK, so what do you want me to do about it?

You could do something amazing, like the guy who invented a sanitary pad machine to improve the menstrual health and earning power of women in rural areas of developing countries. Or you could do something a little more low-key, like listen, accept, and be actively tolerant.

Everybody has a bad day now and then. Sometimes there’s a reason, sometimes there isn’t. Most of the time, the reason isn’t any of your business. If everybody met those bad days with a little patience and a little kindness, that would be pretty amazing too.

Tampon Club at IBM Hursley

On the practical side, if you’re in charge of running a building or organising an event, make sure there are suitable bins available in the toilets – I’ve been to conferences in posh hotels that didn’t think of that. If it’s feasible, a tampon machine is also a good idea, or even better start a Tampon Club. For some reason my local swimming pool doesn’t have any way of getting hold of a tampon at short notice. I found this out after I’d gone through to the changing rooms and discovered I didn’t have one with me. Cue anxiety, embarrassment and rushing to the shop down the road.

That doesn’t seem so hard. I could get into this “New Man” thing

It’s not that hard, or that icky, to just acknowledge that periods happen, and that they have both practical and personal implications. But men helping out women with the practical side of periods isn’t all that new. Take Lord Nuffield, for example. At a time when periods were probably talked about even less than today, he dipped into his own pocket to make sure the Wrens had what they needed during WWII.

It made me smile

Sometimes it’s important to just stop and think about all the little things around us that make the world better – people breaking stereotypes just by being who they are, people challenging prejudice with small actions, people reaching out a hand to their fellow human beings. I’ve noticed quite a few of these nice little moments lately and wanted to share them with you.

There’s a piano in the bandstand of my local park for anybody to play. It’s there following an arts event last year where pianos were put all over the city to encourage people who happened to be passing to stop and make some music. It made me smile because music can touch anybody and make a connection deeper than our usual shallow first impressions.

A little while ago I saw a middle aged couple holding hands as they walked through town. They were a black woman and a white man. It made me smile, because it’s good to see people finding companionship and comfort in one another.

On my drive to work last week I followed a white van. The driver indicated for a junction and slowed down to turn. Someone was on the curb of the side road waiting to cross. The white van driver stopped, blocking my way, and waved him across. It made me smile because it’s heartening to see people offer a simple kindness to a stranger.

A colleague made a joke about being called Jennifer at weekends. I commented that so was I and it turned into a discussion about trans friends. He admitted that although he wants to support his MTF friend, he struggles to know how. It made me smile because it’s good to hear about people being actively tolerant and trying to improve, whatever stage of the journey they are on.

In a recent online discussion someone told me to “shut up”. Someone else called them on being disrespectful and said that even though he didn’t agree with everything I said, it was important to listen and discuss. It made me smile because respectful disagreement is always more productive than wilful ignorance.

Someone made a comment about how he “throws like a girl” and someone else called them out on casual sexism. It made me smile because it’s nice when it doesn’t have to be me.

What has made you smile recently?

5am argument

Dear people arguing in the street,

I don’t like being woken up early. I often can’t get back to sleep and being tired makes me grumpy all day. So I wasn’t best pleased when your argument started up under my bedroom window at 5am. Yes, it was me who called the police.

I didn’t call them to get you into trouble, but because it was very clear that your argument was getting nowhere and I was concerned from the level of noise and swearing that it might become violent. I didn’t want either of you to get hurt.

It was very clear that you knew each other, were close even. I don’t know what happened to trigger the argument, or whether one of you had done something unforgivable to the other. I do know that neither of you were listening to the other. I feel for you both – being unheard is never pleasant. I know you didn’t intend for me, or anyone else, to be disturbed. What you were arguing over was obviously so important to you both that the rest of the world had faded from your minds.

I can get over my disturbed sleep with a quiet weekend. I only hope that you can get over your argument, that you can be actively tolerant of each other enough to listen, to find some common ground. After all, there must have been something that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place.

Happy Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day to the traditional dads who do the nine-to-five and bring home the bacon, and to the dads who do the school run and housework. Happy Father’s Day to the single parents who are doing both.

Happy Father’s Day to the granddads, uncles, cousins and big brothers living each day as a positive role model to the young people in your lives.

Happy Father’s Day to the gay couples, whether your kids call you both “Dad” or not, and to all the lesbian, polygamous, and other non-traditional families.

You dads have a tough job. You have to find the right balance between being strong and being gentle. You have to navigate the contradictory expectations of masculinity and sensitivity. And you have to teach your children to do the same. So here’s to you all and thank you. Happy Father’s Day.

Dear Drunk…

Dear drunk who I found in the road,

I was just trying to get home, but there you were lying in the middle of the road. I could have turned around and gone the other way, but I didn’t. I stopped and called an ambulance while my friend went to your side. She did her best to stop you choking on your own tongue and reassured you that help was coming while I gave what scant details I could on the phone. By the time the paramedics poured you into the ambulance we were both shaken, exhausted and reeking of your drink.

I’m not writing this because I want thanks or think I deserve a medal (although I think my friend does for going to you while I took the easy job). I’m writing this because I have a message for you. I don’t know what led to you being drunk and barely conscious in the road, but from the look of you it was a pretty rough journey. I don’t know whether you were alone by choice or had been abandoned by friends, but I know you needed someone to show you kindness.

Now it’s over to you. I hope that you can get your life straightened out. I hope that alcohol doesn’t leave you stranded like that again. One day someone will need you to show them kindness. I hope you can do it.

Look a little closer…

This photograph has been doing the rounds on social media. It’s lovely, in its way. Photos of babies generally are. But it’s also desperately sad: she is a slave feeding her master’s child. She knew that the child in her arms would grew up to become master to her own children.

I have always known that white people kept black people as slaves and that often they were mistreated. There are plenty of facts and figures about how many slaves were shipped over to America, when and how it was abolished, etc. But it is little details like this photograph that highlight the human element of it.
It is uncomfortable to think about the things my race did to others when slavery was widespread, even more so to realise that the damage is still there: in America, black babies are 2.4 times more likely to die before their first birthday than white babies, partly because black mothers are less likely to breastfeed.
Afrykayn Moon is trying to get the history of black breastfeeding told. She is raising money to make a documentary entitled The History Of My Chocolate Milk. I wish her good luck and have made a donation. I hope you will too.

Just another attention seeking post

This is a guest post by Ella, who cares for people with mental health problems and has struggled with some of her own.

Last year a news headline made shockwaves. Robin Williams, the comedian and actor whose work ranged from belly-laughing comedies to tear-jerking, Oscar-winning dramas, took his own life.

Why didn’t he seek help? Why didn’t he talk about it? Referred to as the typical clown crying behind the laughter it left fans brokenhearted. He was even quoted from an earlier interview saying “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”. He clearly had thought about this a lot.

Every couple of weeks I see articles about people who have taken their life. Some who have been on long waiting lists for mental healthcare, put to the back because “If they say they are suicidal they are attention seeking.“ Or those who have left families bewildered at what has been deemed to be sudden.

We have all seen the campaigns by groups such Staffordshire charity Changes promoting the importance of talking about mental health. Depression is a serious illness suffered by 1 in 4 (who admit it). It can go on for many years. It come and then go, come and then go and needs managing in the same way diabetes or asthma do. In fact it is just as much a killer as other chronic illnesses.

So why do I still hear that people suffering with depression are called “attention seekers” for speaking out? Don’t really talk about your problems, don’t really feel sad. Pull yourself together, focus on the positives. Have you seen what is happening in the news? Think yourself lucky. Yes you were abused, raped, insert other trauma here. But you have to get over that now, don’t let them win. You know the ones. The ones who post how bad they feel on Facebook and everyone decides they are attention seeking. Yes they are, they want some help, they want to feel loved and they want to know everything will be ok. Why is this so bad?

Now, some years back before I worked in Mental Health I may have been the one agreeing too. But my eyes have been opened and I realise that everyone is different and everyone deserves support. No matter how long it takes. Getting annoyed and angry is a natural reaction to supporting those with depression, but they need your patience more than ever.

In fact I suffer from depression myself, and when it grips you, you are don’t know which way to turn. When you feel desperate you shout out. When I had an earache I told the people on Facebook. I wanted advice, remedies, sympathy. So why can this not be the same for depression?

In the spirit of being actively tolerant the next time you see an “attention seeking” post on Facebook, don’t block them or defriend them. Perhaps hide them from your newsfeed if it is really is too hard but don’t give them even more reason to feel terrible. Hit the PM button and message them. Ask them for a coffee, a chat. Listen, don’t try to fix them. Be there. When you see someone running and asking for sponsor money, not for Cancer but a group such as MIND or CHANGES. If you can support them as these groups can be life saving. Be actively tolerant.

What’s the fuss about Waterworld?

Waterworld is a water park in Stoke-on-Trent. It’s about three miles from my home and has splash pools, wave machines, water slides and all the usual water park fun. It also runs occasional special events that cater to particular sections of Stoke’s diverse population. I’ve never heard of any of these events being an issue before, but suddenly this one is all over the national press. Why? Because someone took offense.

The event in question is called “Sisters Only” and according to the Waterworld website is “restricted to female gender only and boys up to the age of 4 years old.” Women-only events have been happening at pools and gyms for years and generally people don’t bat an eyelid anymore. But this one got people worked up. Our dear friends the EDL have decided to stage a protest against this “segregated event” because it required clothing to be “culturally and islamically appropriate” – a statement which was rather clumsy and has since been quietly removed from the event description. The water park’s owner has clarified that ordinary swim suits are just fine.

Stoke-on-Trent has a large Muslim population and I regularly see young women in ankle-length swimsuits at another local pool where my kids have lessons. There are also plenty of women who are so uncomfortable with their bodies that they wouldn’t normally feel brave enough to wear a swimsuit of any kind. Waterworld have decided to host an event to attract customers that wouldn’t normally come.

The outcry seems to be based on misconceptions about the event. People seem upset that it’s aimed at Muslims, but Waterworld made it clear that women of any race, ethnicity and religion will be welcome. They will “black out” the windows and apparently it’s going too far to think that women who feel uncomfortable being seen in a swim suit would not want to be seen in a swim suit. And apparently they’ve banned bikinis, but the only evidence I’ve found to back that up is the now-deleted request for “appropriate” clothing. Some of the headlines seem to suggest that requiring guests to be in full burqas at all times is now standard operating procedure for the park. The restrictions are much more minor and apply only to the event itself, which runs for two hours. Outside normal opening times. Meaning zero impact on anyone wanting to go during the regular opening times. Just like last time they ran a Sisters Only event.

Sounds like very sound business sense to me, as well as offering a great service to a section of the population that would be excluded from their normal offering. In fact, wouldn’t it be great if they hosted events for other sections of society? Well, yes it would. And they do. According to a post on their Facebook page they regularly run Singles Night, Weekly Wave Rave (so young teens have something better to do than get into trouble), Naturist Night, Inclusion Events (with extra staff to aid guests of all types of disabilities), Pagan Halloween Event, and Male Only nights.

Yes, that last one was Male Only nights. I’ve seen so many comments over the last couple of days suggesting it’s unfair to have all-female events and asking when the all-male events are. The Waterworld website doesn’t have any listed at the moment, but I’m sure any interested parties could sign up to their mailing list to find out when the next one is.

It’s great to see business actively seeking ways to do good things for the local community as well as their balance sheets. They’re also open to suggestions for other exciting event ideas. I wonder if there’s a big enough trans and trans-supportive community in Staffordshire for a business-viable event? I understand that having a body that’s the “wrong” shape can make swimming ordinarily impossible. How about it, Waterworld?