Judgement Day ~ A Precursor to Prejudice

I have a confession.

It isn’t often that I dress up. In actuality, I dress down far too often for a woman of twenty-five…and especially for a single black woman at that.

I also don’t care.

My friend once asked me why I don’t dress up and I responded by saying “what for?” I’m sure you guys could give me a thousand reasons why I should dress up, or why you can’t leave the house yourself looking anything less than stunning, but for me unless there’s a special occasion attached to it…or I feel like it, it’s probably not going to happen.

As you know, I spent over a year without any means of being able to buy nice things so I learnt how to simply get by on what I had. Thus, as I mentioned in my last entry, any shopping I’ve done recently has been more practical than pizzazz. The same goes for my hair. It’s never immaculate unless someone else has done it for me and overall I’m not a particularly feminine woman anyway if I’m honest. I used to be obsessed with jeans in my youth. Now I’m quite comfortable in a pair of tracksuit bottoms.

But we all know that the way you dress and, even clothes aside, the way you look can make people paint a complete picture of you without even knowing you. If you’re having a particularly bad day and you put your face in such a way, you must be dangerous. If you wear a cap low, you must have something to hide. Because as humans, we are full of prejudices and in a way, because of what’s happening in the world, the world in itself has shaped us to be so.

Take yesterday for example. It was wet in the morning so I donned my purple hoody, my coat, my snood and a pair of trainers – I would have warn my boots but I was worried the weather would change…which is did. So after work when the sun came out, I was still in my winter garb – British weather is so very unpredictable right now. Nonetheless, I was so tired on the way home (I start work at 6am) that I virtually plonked myself into the seat on an empty tube carriage and felt the weight of the day – heck, the week - accumulate on my person. The train proceeded to fill up, but even though I was half asleep, I started picking up on the fact that no one seemed to want to sit in either one of the seats beside me; in fact the seats beside me remained empty until I was ready to get off the train.

Usually when I get on a train that’s slightly packed, I will pick a seat that’s closest to me and sit there. So picture this. Excluding the two seats beside me, the row of seats on my side of the train, contain other people. On the row of seats opposite, there are two spaces available also with a person in between them, but a little bit to the left. A lady gets on to the right of me and decided that rather than sit next to me, she would trek along the train carriage, passed my two empty spaces and sit on one of the available seats on the opposite side as far away from me as possible. At the next station, a second woman claims the only other available seat contrary to the two seats still available next to me. Now, I know this is a pretty lame example and you’re all thinking I’m paranoid, but it really made me wonder – in my half asleep state – if I looked like some sort of vagabond or something.

Another example happened today. The weather was once again unstable so I donned another hoody, my coat, my snood and my trainers. I wrapped my hair in a hair wrap of sorts and went into Body Shop to buy some stuff for a good friend of mine. One of the workers greeted me and I asked her - rather politely I might add – if they sold any toiletry sets which contained perfume. So what did the woman do? She led me over to a section and showed me the cheapest item they sold. It was £7. I asked her if they had anything else and to add insult to injury she said this was the only thing they had and then quickly went away. Had I not perused the store myself, I probably would have walked out with nothing. But when I did walk out - after spending £20 - I couldn’t help but think that I had probably just been judged.

But we all do it, don’t we? We all look at people and the way they dress and immediately decide that they must be this sort of person and therefore, they should be avoided at all costs. A guy I used to know said that he used to be a bit of a Goth, but jacked it in because he got sick of people staring at him like he was Death incarnate. When I was at work the other day, a man came to the counter looking a bit rough and haggard, but he spoke the most articulate English I have ever heard and even cracked a joke with me leaving my prejudice hanging out to dry. And what about the girls we see walking about the streets with their boobs falling out of their tops or their skirts at the waist? We immediately equate that to attention-seeking; others will call them flat-out whores, but I know a girl who actually dresses just like that and she’s one of the nicest people I know.

We are so used to judging people based on what we feel is bad or wrong. A friend of mine does it because he feels that this is a way of protecting himself. And he’s not wrong to want to protect himself; we all wish to protect ourselves – and the people we care about - because there are people out there that do take advantage of others. There are people out there that do fit the equation, so to speak. And so we snap up our barriers and cross the road, or pretend we can’t hear or can’t see just in case. But in our conquest to protect ourselves and our nearest and dearest, are we actually in the wrong when we prejudge and make associations between certain people and certain things? Is it right to assume that all homeless people are drug addicts and alcoholics? Is it right to assume that all scantily clad women are skanks?

But what about the people that we don’t see? The people that seem relatively normal. The people that we might even consider attractive, when in actuality, they’re a little bit dangerous.

In my previous job, a lady walked in off the high street. She was well-dressed and very cheerful which made a change from the usual trouble-makers and time-wasters that would walk in. She sat down at my desk and expressed an interest in doing the Teaching Assistant course we had going, only after a while, she started telling me her life story which included very extravagant details about all the places she’d visited and some intimate details about her and her husband. She waffled on and on and ON for about thirty to forty-five minutes of my life and she was so engrossed in her own story that she didn’t even see me switch the forms right from underneath her. I knew she wasn’t mentally sound even when my supervisor “told me” that there was an “urgent call” for me. She waited and waited until I was “done” and then lapsed into more Tales of the Crypt before finally leaving.

She also came back about ten minutes later…

Ever heard of a corporate psychopath?  

These are the kind of people that more often than not, work in business. They’re quite charismatic, intelligent and charming, but will climb on your back or shove a knife in it to further their own goals. The corporate world is full of them and for the most part, a lot of them don’t get caught because people don’t make the associations between businessman/woman and psychopath. What’s more, they’re also, very good at talking themselves out of trouble even if they are identified. Nonetheless, they are very real, very competent and very crafty. They’re the kind of people that would embezzle millions into an offshore account in Sweden or something and pin the blame on that poor unsuspecting lacky who’s been working for the company for decades. I actually find them fascinating from a psychological perspective, but I’d never want to cross one because even though I like to think I’m sharp, I don’t think I could make the association either.

It may seem a little backward nonetheless, but I think we should all consider that not everything we perceive to be bad is actually so..and I don’t mean in the street-slang way of saying either. What I’m saying is that we should consider that not every person who’s mentally unsound is a danger to others. Not every stripper is a prostitute. And I promise you. Not every businessman/woman is out to get you.

But as morbid as it is to say…sometimes they are. So it’s for you to make the choice. Is everyone who doesn’t fit your definition of ordinary, a danger to you. Or are we all innocent until proven guilty?

One thing is certain however. From now on and probably until the end of time, we will all be guilty of prejudice.

Stay Safe! Stay Alert! And Whatever You Do...

Don’t die.

On a more serious note though, we live – or at least, I live – in a fairly dangerous society. People just aren’t honest anymore and in recent times, people have become extremely desperate. Oh, we’ve all done it. We’ve all kept that additional five pounds when the cashier at the shop has given us more change than they’ve realised. We’ve all told white lies once or twice in order to get ourselves out of trouble and some of us have gone that extra mile still – well on that road to hell. But some of us are just giant question marks.

I start work at 6am in the morning. I know - cue shock-horror-pain-spasm. So I have to wake up at 4.30am in the morning. On this particular morning however, we received a knock at the door. Now, I’m chickenshit scared because this isn’t normal. It has happened before in the past, but in that situation, the person knocked and then left. What was more, the house was in darkness at the time. As I’m awake, I have the lights on and this person is banging like they’re the police. I don’t answer the door, but fortunately, I don’t live alone and my mother enquires only for the stranger on the other side of the door to say:

“Sorry to disturb you, but do you have an iPhone charger?”

I had a serious “what the fuck?” moment when I heard this. It’s four-thirty in the morning. Why are you knocking on my door to borrow an iPhone charger? We don’t own iPhones anyway but I didn’t like this one bit. He even persisted to ask where he could find one and as such he was directed to the high road. Two second later, he’s raping the door with his fists again implying that we don’t need to call the police and that’s he’s a nice person. Cue “what the fuck” moment number two.

In conclusion, we’ve decided that he must have been a drug addict or something to that affect because knocking on a stranger’s door at ridiculous-o-clock in the morning for a charger isn’t normal behaviour. And even if you haven’t your phone and need to get home, a trip to the nearest police station should sort anybody out. What’s more, London isn’t a neighbourly culture anyway; my neighbours don’t even make such requests in the daytime so we’re thinking that this individual couldn’t have possibly been of sound mind to make such an unorthodox request.

I’m a little bit paranoid anyway. I usually wear my bag on one shoulder, but have a strong dislike of anyone standing directly behind me. If it’s crowded, I move my bag to the front of myself so I can see exactly where it is. I always put money away when inside a shop and hold my purse inside my bag if I need to use it, for example, when getting on public transport. I’m actually rather anal to the point that I even make sure that when carrying my bag, the zippers are close to my arm so that if anyone were to try to slip their fingers into my bag, I’d definitely know about it. Because theft and the like are commonplace things. There’s a show called The Secrets of Pickpockets which details all. In addition, a number of people that I’ve known – whether directly or indirectly – have been victims of such attacks and these things make me extremely weary.

And even the most innocent looking person could have an ulterior motive. For us British folk, I’m sure you’ve heard of the “ASBO granny”; for everyone else – ASBO stands for Anti-Social Behaviour Order, which is basically like a restraining order for people who commits numerous acts of…well…anti-social behaviour (I think my neighbours should get one for playing their music on a week day at two-thirty in the morning to be honest). Add “granny” into the equation and I’m sure you’ll get my drift.

So today, I ask you all to have your wits about you – even if you live in one of the safest communities in the world. You don’t have to be paranoid like me (I’d rather people leave me alone when I’m travelling from A to B or working out in the gym). But don’t expose yourself to danger. Don’t leave your belongings on display inside your car or fall asleep on the bus with your purse in your hand after a night out. (Ironically, I got the purse and the contents back – minus forty quid of course). Do yourself a favour.

Look out for number one.

The Biggest Fashion Faux Pas of Them All...

As with a lot of my entries, they’re generally inspired by a conversation or some sort of life event that might have befallen me. And this one will be no different because this weekend I had a fairly interesting conversation with a stranger about her job as an Assistant Merchandiser for a company which I forget the name of. She gave me the rundown of what she does but then mentioned that despite all the fashion relevant stuff she gets her fingers stuck into, she has absolutely no interest in fashion whatsoever. And this I found amusing because I know that I’ve tried to get in with a company that I had no real interest in at all, and pretty much fell flat on face trying.

But I digress. Spring will soon be upon us and with the turn of the season will come a brand new onset of fashion trends that have already hit the catwalks and will subsequently – if they haven’t already – start climbing onto the hangers of the nearest high street retailer. I can’t remember what year it was, but there was a time when the poncho was big in fashion. Some time before that, there was an emphasis on flares and flared jeans/trousers. Apparently, the checkered shirt has been popular for quite some time now. And does anyone remember when leggings came back in fashion? I believe that may have only been a few years ago actually but it just goes to show that despite the notion of trend setting, things often regurgitate and repeat themselves a little down the line, which leads me to wonder if there’s really a point to all this fashion mallark.

Now, I have a couple of friends who are strongly infatuated with clothes trends and ‘looking good’. They’re the kind of people that prefer quality over quantity – and spare no expenses in order to achieve their moral standards. And I understand this. Sometimes, it’s better to spend a bit more because clothing of a better quality is supposed to last longer…apparently. And I must admit that even I jumped on the bandwagon – to an extent - during my university years when I actually had money to throw around. Heck, without even realising it, I even started following the trend. Back in Spring 2010 (I think), I bought at least three pairs of high-waisted shorts when they were all the rage, but now the rage has turned its nose up and those high-waisted shorts are buried somewhere in the bottom of my wardrobe. But not forgotten. No way! I’m just waiting for the sun to come out because that’s when I’ll use them again. Over the years I’ve become a more practical consumer – I dress for the weather first and foremost. Looking good comes second.

Because yes, we all want to look nice – or our own definition of nice. When we go to a party or a job interview, we want to ‘look the part’ so to speak, but I’ve seen time and time again where people seem to sacrifice logic for this desire to ‘look good’. People see images on television or in magazines of super models and other celebrities looking their ‘best’ and want to look like that. So they spend ridiculous amounts of money on a belt and step outside in the snow freezing their knickers off in order to await the moment when someone comes up to them and says “you look nice”. Because we all gain gratification from compliments – even those of us that find them a little awkward. But some of us - more than others - like to be looked at; some of us like to feel like a million bucks or want to look like Michelle Obama. And so the cycle repeats itself because apparently, the clothes make the man….or the woman.

But what can we do but submit to what the world wants us to look like really? Because when the world says “snoods are hot; earmuffs are so last Saturday”, you can bet your cotton socks that finding earmuffs on the high street is gonna be a chore for you. After all, I once tried searching for a purple top when the season was red. I kid you not when I say that I searched the entire shopping centre – roughly 60 stores - and uncovered ONE top. Needless to say, my shopping experience that day was exhausting. But maybe I didn’t don’t have the correct  attitude towards shopping. After all, retail therapy is supposed to be about swanning about in no particular direction, seeing something you fancy, trying it on to see if it does you justice and then buying it for some unanticipated event. But these days, I‘m pretty quick about it. I often have an idea of what I’m looking for; I’ll dive it, pick it up and dive back out again – no time wasted. Five years ago, I needed a tracksuit. A quick trip to JD Sports and here it is, five years later. Earlier last year, I needed trainers. Thank God for the internet. That took even less time to buy still. But do you think I’ll ever be able to find those items again now? A cheap imitation maybe, but ultimately…probably not.

In fact, I remember having bought a pair of boots which I decided I would wear to a nightclub years ago only to be told by a supposed friend of mine: “you’re wearing those?” with a rising intonation on the end. The same girl told me a little later on that year that what I had been wearing the day we went shopping looked ‘nice’ and that I should “dress like that more often”. I fobbed it off back then but I look back on this now and think to myself what right did she have to approve or disprove of the way I dressed. She owned a leopard print coat for crying out loud. Oh don’t get me wrong. She had the right to dislike it, but to make me feel like there was something wrong with my choice of clothing – and as a friend as well – was not cool. But let’s not sugar coat it. We were never really friends to begin with anyway. We merely hung out with the same people and now we’re no longer in contact. Good times!

The point is, however, that as people we are constantly influenced – even without realising it – and some of us more than others. We are constantly told what we should and shouldn’t wear and as consumers, we buy into everything because the old gets old and the broken or tattered is useless; we don’t mend things anymore, we just toss it in the bin. Alternative, we seek the new and the shiny and these are reinforced by the faces of our favourite songs and movies. But ask yourself this. What’s the point of looking like someone else…or like everyone else really? Wouldn’t it be better to be different. To stand out? Think of the punk cultures of the 1980s. Or maybe that’s just it? We don’t want to ‘stand out’ – not really. We’re afraid to be a little different – to truly be stared at – and that ‘desire for attention’ – is nothing more than yet another method of fitting in with the rest of society.

By let’s push the psychology aside on this one, because clothing’s only surface material really. And at the end of the day, the gloves...and just about everything else - come off. Therefore, in my opinion, fashion’s biggest faux pas is in effect, itself. It seeks to set trends and tell people what to wear and how much to spend and it seeks to do it just about every year – heck, every season – in order to make money off of the strength of our vanity. But truthfully, no one has the right to tell you how to dress but you. So the next time you see a woman walking down the street looking a bit like a tart, don’t sneer at her. Maybe she likes the way she looks. Or some guy who's got a hole in his shirt? Maybe he’s not skint. Maybe he’s setting his own trend. All I know is – currently, I’m the most comfortable in leggings and tracksuit bottoms. And I may not always look the best to someone else, but I like it and truthfully, that’s all that matters.

Retail Detail – Food, “Fun” and First Impressions…The Second Time Around

Well, I’m sure everyone’s no stranger to the fact that I have left my old job and returned to…my old job. You see, before my stint as an office jockey, I was a coffee shop girl – albeit less coffee, more food. The company I worked for – and now work for again – specialises in selling hot foods and coffee. The good news is that I’m back in full time employment again. This means that I can grow my savings, help out at home and still have money left over the treat myself once in a while.

Get in!

The bad news is that the branch I’m working for was quite famous during my previous dealings within the company. I distinctly recall my ex colleagues saying that the shop was old, busy, dirty and had a monster for manager. One had a rather affectionate name for her. This didn’t bother me at the time because I wasn’t working there, but as I drew to the end of a my first tenure with the company, my final four days were spent working in that shop and I saw firsthand exactly what they’d be talking about. Fortunately for me however – at the time – it was only four days and on the fourth day, not only was I leaving the company but I was to travel to Spain for two and a half weeks so I didn’t give a flying monkeys.

Now however, I’m stuck in it until further notice because somebody from higher up in the company remembered me. They remembered that I was a barista in training and decided that despite the year and six months I’d been away from the company, I must have retained all that previous knowledge and couldn’t possibly have undone it all. Thus, I was shipped into the very fires of hell themselves with the devil incarnate laughing in triumph.

Maybe it didn’t help that I went in there fearing the worst, but my memories served correctly in remembering that despite management, the team from way back when were pretty decent people. In fact, some of them are still there but there are some new faces as well. For the most part however, there are two things that are important to me in the workplace…

        a) my team must be awesome.

And not awesome in terms of efficiency (even though that does help) because during the olden days, I was moved to a new shop with a new team who knew virtually nothing. And I grew to like them a lot; we would chat and laugh and we even went out a few times. My team just need to be cool – people I get along with. And generally, I find it very easy to get along with other people, but in this case, there are at least a couple of people that get on my tits.

Now I’m not perfect. I’ve forgotten a lot of things and in addition, a lot of new rules have been implemented. But what really irritates me is that just because I’m the new guy all over again, people make assumptions about my work etiquette. They think that just because the hole in the icing is bigger than normal, I must have been the one who cut it that size. Or they think that just because someone shouted out for a latte too quietly, it must have been me – it couldn’t have been anyone else now, could it?

The thing is, if I do make a genuine mistake, I will put my hand up. I have made mistakes and I do make mistakes, but all I ask is that the mistake made is truly attributable to me before someone decides to give me a bollicking. And all this, in the space of six days. Wut?

The second thing that’s important to me in any workplace is:

        b) management must be tolerable.

I can’t even begin to understand what it feels like to be overseeing the running of a shop. The highest position I’ve had in any company is that of a senior team member…and in all cases this has been unofficial. But I do understand that it must be stressful. At the same time, however, I believe that we’re all adults here and that we should be treated as such. Eighteen months ago, I witnessed my current manager speaking to a member of her staff like he was a child. Today, I got it in the ear – it was a group bollicking – but I still got it nonetheless – and it still reaffirms the initial concerns I had when I was handed the envelope with my current shop’s name on it.

The consolation however is that I’m not alone in my thinking in regards to management. Most of the team have their concerns as well, while others are desperate to transfer or to leave. Therefore, I feel at least somewhat included even though I don’t feel entirely welcome yet.

Nevertheless, it makes me think back to when I first started with the company. It makes me miss my old teams terribly and my first manager who, while easily stressed, was potentially the best manager I had in my company; his floor manager was equally sound. Even when I was transferred to a new shop with a new team of fresh rabble whom I had to help train up to standard; I miss these guys too (even though the management there was partially the reason why I left the company in the first place).

I also, have a thing about lady bosses anyway. I think it’s better to work under a man than a woman because let’s face it ladies, they’re a lot more level headed than we are.

And then of course, there are the customers. The calibre is a lot better than my previous place of work in the training and employment company. The clientele are mainly businessmen and women who come once or twice a day to get that coffee in the morning or that soup for lunch. The amount of people that use their debit cards is ridiculous however and it leads me to believe that these are the kind of people that have money to burn. For me, if I pay for something utilising my card, I have to check my accounts later to make sure there’s something still in there, but at the rate that these people spend money, I’m under the impression that money must grow on trees for them.

What’s more, is that while some of them are really lovely – some will talk to you or smile at you or even thank you for the service - others are really up themselves. Some of them walk in with that pouty expression as if nothing’s above them; they're glare at you from behind their spectacles and drop their items of the counter muttering minimal words to you. A couple of people have even purposely waited for another cashier to become free despite my till being free. Some clients will refuse to put the money in my hand even though my palm is out-stretched to receive it; a lot of them do this actually, now that I think about it. But don’t get me wrong, I had those who were up themselves in my old shops, but the amount in this one seems to be insatiable; clearly they don't like change. Maybe they see a new face and think "incompetant until proven otherwise". But I have to wonder if it might be because they need that coffee in the morning to perk themselves up; it’s like a drug that must be administered daily in order to function properly. Without it, they turn into zombies, crawling into the workplace on a missing limb desperate for sustenance. Or maybe they're just the kind of people that would throw a hissy fit just because someone forgot to get them a fork for their cake.

Overall, I feel like I crossed out of one hell hole into another. I’m not fast enough for this shop and I don’t think I ever truly will be. Using initiative seems to be banned when you’re on the tills as well as we’re not allowed to move from them during busy hours. Thus, we’re dependant on backup to get us what we need and more often than not, they do get a back log of stuff to do meaning that at times I’m twiddling my thumbs while a customer is waiting for their produce and I can’t move from my spot to help just because those are the rules.  So I’m just biding my time and waiting for that customer who complains about me directly just because he didn’t receive something fast enough.

When I returned, nonetheless, I was under the impression that they wanted me to be a barista. As I am now, I’m not sure whether they want me to become one again, but if they do, I’d rather not. I don’t even like coffee and I’m of the opinion that with the amount of basic rules broken at those coffee machines by other members of staff, it’d probably be physically impossible to pass the exam anyway. In fact, I did hear that somebody had actually failed it so I’d like to save myself the embarrassment…even if I do make a good cup of coffee apparently

I know I need to be patient nonetheless. I’m only working where I’m working in order to have something of a life and to save money for the future. I hope to hear good news in April from the Jet Programme but in all honesty, I’m not so sure I will. I’ve been following the forums and I seem to be one of the few people who felt like her interview could have a gone a whole lot better.

I’m just hoping that as time goes by, things will get better and this will be a turbulence portion of this rollercoaster because if I keep feeling this way, I’m going to forever hate myself for not accepting that other job offer I had received. It would have been less pay but would I have been happier I wonder?

Adult Status - When the Clock Starts Ticking

This week marked the end of an era for me.

On the Wednesday, I turned 25 years old thus renouncing my young adult status and stepping into the world that is bonafide and certifiable adulthood. In the UK, the 16 – 24 year-old age bracket has a bit of stigma attached to it. Individuals leave school, bypass the age of consent, enter into that famous rite of passage that is university – if they so choose to - before crossing out over the other side into the real world.

Therefore, if you’re lucky enough to pass your driving test during this time, car insurance is usually sky high because younger drivers are statistically more likely to get themselves into an accident. And let’s not forget the underage or irresponsible drinking habits of the young elite which is also, equally more likely to land them in trouble – or in a hospital bed…or smashed in the middle of the street somewhere. And of course, the infamous sexual promiscuity of these young folk which has prompted the National Health Service to screen young adults every year for STDs* – currently one of the epidemics on the increase is Chlamydia.

But despite the obvious transition, I’m not exactly where I expected to be at 25. I possess a whole host of qualifications and yet I’m not really making use of them yet. I have a student loan the size of a mortgage deposit. I never did finish off learning how to drive. I’m single. I earn peanuts and I still live at home with my mum. Miss Independent? I don’t think so.

But I guess when I finished school, I had a very Mickey Mouse perception of the way life would go for me. I believed the hype – anyone remember AimHigher – which said that going to university would enhance my job prospects and pretty much set me up for life. (And I guess they weren’t entirely wrong; without my degree, it’ll be physically impossible for me to go and teach English overseas). But we weren’t to know that a Maths degree or going to medical school would be in higher demand right now as oppose to a Bachelor of Arts in Sociology or a degree in Spanish. And naturally, no one could have predicted the recession and the amount of graduates fighting each other for jobs which are few and far between; and these aren’t even the jobs with the prospects and the higher salary either. These are unskilled jobs in retail, food and the like.

I expected that I’d be living alone by now or at least with a good friend. In fact, it was a friend of mine who had expected that she’d have acquired her driver’s licence by now. I guess I expected that I would feel like an adult, but even though I’ve graduated and I’ve made the transition from adolescence, I still very much feel like that kid who was just starting out at university. Certainly, I have responsibilities. I contribute to my household in any way that I can. I have bills to pay…etc, but the clock is ticking and even though I still feel young enough that I’ve got time (I think that if I’d just turned thirty and was where I am now, I’d be borderline depressed), I’m still concerned about my future as I always have been.

But I’m taking steps. Because one thing I’ve realised about myself is that I’ve always been a bit of a late developer. As an infant, I was speech delayed. My overall self esteem didn’t surface until after college. My femininity developed late – heck, it’s still developing – so maybe this is the course I’m destined to take in life.

Fortunately for me, however, I’m not lost anymore. I have a goal and that target is still very much in plain sight. I just have to stay positive. And in actuality, in addition to this, I also, left my job at the training and employment agency today so you can call it a "double end of eras" if you will. It was quite a touching goodbye nonetheless. I guess I hadn’t realised how much they valued me there, but I had no choice but to move on. I was only working there part time and my new job – which in effect is just my old job – will be full time meaning that I can earn a bigger salary so that I can save towards teaching overseas and actually have a life. Thus the sacrifice I mentioned in an earlier post will greatly recede over time.

So, my message today is for those of you who feel a little lost or can’t help but watch the clock in worry at the way your lives are developing. Because believe me, I understand. I’m a massive control freak and I get really bent out of shape when things don’t run smoothly. But as adults - young or old - sometimes we just have to accept it. Because maybe those bumps in the road are necessary; and maybe its necessary to experience circumstances that make you want to tear your hair out. After all, for every obstacle you overcome, it definitely makes you stronger. And maybe, just maybe things are supposed to take a bit longer in life because eventually, you'll arrive at the destination that is really and truly meant for you.

*Sexually Transmitted Diseases

Bullying ~ Is It Really Ever Over?

I managed to find a rather frightening statistic online that indicates that 46% of children in the UK had been bullied at school at some point in their lives. That’s nearly half the population - if we generalise this figure - and it seems to be on the increase. School is just another survival mechanism. What we learn and how well we do academically is supposed to set us up for the future and enable us to get the better jobs when we enter into the world of adulthood (obviously this is debatable right now in this day and age, but that’s another topic entirely). But also, it teaches us how to get along with others. We develop friendships with likeminded people; we develop our interpersonal skills; we learn what is right and what is wrong and then we do what feels right.

Obviously, however, what feels right isn’t necessarily what is right. Some people are naturally more outgoing or extrovert while others are more withdrawn or reserved. These are the people that are usually targeted by those of us who find joy in picking on others and while we could assess this behaviour until the cow’s come home, it’s never realised just how much of an impact bullying can have. Granted, children – or bullies in general – don’t consider this when they choose to act. My primary school head-teacher didn’t think that the child he took part in bullying in his youth would jump off of London Bridge because he couldn’t take it anymore. Nor have others considered that the reason why someone self harms might be because they think they deserve it – after all, everyone else clearly thinks so.

I was reading an interesting article the other day and the following statement hit close to home:

“If you are or have ever been a victim of bullying and failed to do anything about it, your confidence has most likely been deflated. If you couldn’t stand up to your bully, you probably felt ashamed, like I did… This lack of confidence can carry over to your adult life…”

I was bullied in primary school and indirectly during secondary school. I know the reasons why and knowing what has become of these people warms my soul a little – karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? But even though I feel like I may have made my peace with it all, I look at the way I evaluate myself and conduct myself and it leads me to realise that I haven’t.

The article went on the further explain how this lack of confidence generated through bullying can stop you from doing things such as approaching that good-looking guy at the bar or something along the lines of asking for a raise (this seems to be a female specific thing, however). And I realise that I do this. In my entire life, I have only ever directly told one guy that I found him attractive* – and this was over the internet. Most of the time, I’ve been pursued by someone else. When someone has rather rudely been smoking in the queues at Thorpe Park, I’ll usually let it go despite how much it irritates the crap out of me; the same goes for queue jumpers – although, I’ve been working on this. Ultimately, for the most part, I am a docile person. I don’t like to make waves or cause trouble – even when it might be necessary. I find confrontation terrifying – such like I experienced yesterday at work when an angry married couple came in first thing shouting the odds about an issue that wasn’t even my fault.

I’m not damaged to the point of depression, but I am not as assertive as I’d like to be – it really depends on the situation. At the same time, however, I am an adult and a woman at that, which means I have the ability to remove myself from an uncomfortable situation. In school, however, this is not the case. Children are forced to endure because it’s the law that they attend school, but no matter how many anti-bullying campaigns arise or how many times a teacher is told, it doesn’t detract from the fact that bullying is on the rise. And where there’s bullying, there’s low self esteem and in some cases, self-hate. And where there’s self-hate, there comes a failure to function adequately in society when is that not what society wants – its people to behave in uniformity; in a socially accepted manner?

But humans are constantly subject to human error and we continue to make bad choices as part of every day life. We try to make up for it by instigating these anti-bullying campaigns and zero-tolerance measures in school and sometimes they work, but when a child ventures outside those school gates or grows up and enters into the real world, these movements lose their power. What’s more is that society has a habit of shoving all the problem kids into one place. I remember hearing a rumour that when a school changes its name to incorporate the word “Academy”, it’s generally because it's quite a bad school. Similarly, an ex supervisor of mine now works in a school that specifically takes in problem children. These children make friends with other problem children which strengthens the nature of their issues, so to speak. They run circles around the teachers that they know they can get around and while the school may have measures in place, they’ll continue to take in these children because the more of them they get, the more money the school gets.

Imagine that. Making money out of the misfortune of others? Haven’t heard that one before...

Fortunately, children are impressionable and if you isolate a child – even a bully – and work with them, I feel that they can be reformed in some shape or...form, but society just doesn’t have enough of these resources. And with jobs few and far between, it doesn’t have the man power either. So we get trapped in a cycle. Bullies pick their targets; targets become victims; victims may even become bullies, or they grow up emotionally crippled (no matter how small that scar is) and pass this on to the next generation.

Sad, isn’t it? :/

*two, if you count the confidence I gained via drinking excessive amounts of alcohol at a Staff Christmas Party

Revenge of the Bounty – The Acting ( Insert Race ) Debate

I was having an interesting conversation with my aunts the other day, of which one of them seemed pleasantly surprised when her sister commented on the fact that her intelligence is quite superior in comparison to other members of the family. I can’t understand how she couldn’t see it however. The woman was selected for one of twelve positions to attend university back in the day when all you had to do to get into university was to work damn hard. She’s the kind of person that talks a lot of sense and has a lot of wisdom; she has a first degree; she was an accountant and now she’s well on her way to becoming a judge. I have never met anyone who is quite that extraordinary and she’s to be admired really.

The conversation soon swayed to education and upbringing to which it was commented that she must have received a lot of stick at school for being so smart. But no – this was not the case. People had generally liked my aunt in school – they flocked to her – and I was suddenly reminded of my school days where I was considered smart, but at the cost of comfortably integrating socially. It was not cool to be smart. It was cool to be face-ty. And even if you were smart, if you were rude on the side, than you managed to save yourself from social damnation. But I wasn’t rude. I wasn’t confrontation. And for that – as I mentioned in a previous entry – I was dubbed a bounty.

As a woman now however, and with a lot more sense, I tend look at this as nonsense. People dubbed me a bounty because I wanted to persevere and kept my nose out of trouble. However, forty years prior, our grandparents were encouraging our parents to keep their noses in their books. They wanted them to get a good education and to make something of themselves because back then, the societal encouragement for minority groups to progress was little. They would point our parents into the direction of unskilled manual jobs or secretarial work. Forget moving into the corporate world. Forget earning that six figure salary. Back then, you had to really work for it, but nowadays, there are more opportunities for all of us.

Nevertheless, doing certain things makes others think you’re a sellout. Because, let’s face it – the world caters to this thing called “stereotypes”; people buy into these stereotypes and even though, I believe that in every stereotype, there is a hint of truth (they don’t just derive out of thin air), it doesn’t mean that we must all fall in line just because we’re Black, White or Asian. Therefore, I don’t particularly understand when people talk about ‘acting white” or acting in such a way that is race specific. Because the last time I checked, I didn’t think that all members of a certain race, religion or what have you, behaved in strict accordance with each other. It just seems stupid.

It was David Starkey who foolishly stated the following on BBCs Newsnight back in 2011:

“The whites have become black. A particular sort of violent destructive, nihilistic gangster culture has become the fashion and black and white boys and girls operate in this language together. This language is wholly false, which is this Jamaican patois that has been intruded in England and that is why so many of us have this sense of literally of a foreign country”

He was talking in conjunction with the 2011 riots and while I don’t’ dispute that gang culture is prevalent in areas where there happen to be a lot of minority groups living, gang culture has always been active - and not just in the UK, but on an international scale. Organised crime syndicates like the Mafia or the Triads have existed for eons. And in the UK, before the arrival of large minority groups, gangs like the Mims, the Dead Boys and the Hectors were active in the 17^th century. So is being Black really interchangeable with being a gang member? And is it White to be smart and to want to do well in life?

But when it comes to race and issues like this, it is generally a “black” thing. We accuse the Asians of ‘acting white’ because they own so many of their own businesses and push their children to greatness. We accuse those of mixed origin for ‘acting white’ by making potent references to that very ‘mixed’ nature – especially if one parent just happens to be white. And more than that, we accuse each other of ‘acting white’ for a variety of reasons. Take this article about Nikki Minaj. Heck, even the President of America himself gets stick.

But I don’t buy it. As people of colour (and maybe even those who are not), we can't seem to look at the bigger picture. People are individuals irrespective of whatever racial background or culture they derive from and just because some Asian guy wants to cornrow his hair or some African girl wants to wear blue contacts, it does not mean that he or she is letting down one’s entire racial community as a whole. In London, in particular, we are one of the most multi-ethnic and multicultural cities on the planet. We don’t live in perfect harmony, but there is tolerance and intrigue here. We are exposed to so many different walks of life that we cannot help but desire to feed our curiosity. And there's nothing wrong with this. I refuse to believe that stepping outside one's cultural bubble is selling out.

So to those who look at celebrities or people around them and think that just because of the way someone speaks, looks or dresses, that they're bringing down some form of torrential shame on an entire racial community, I ask you to think again. Because what is "acting [insert race here]" really? Is it possible to say that 'all [insert race here] are [insert behaviour here]'? Is it physically possible to have met all members of that community to form those generalisations? And is it logical to link an entire community based on that hearsay alone? I ask you to step outside yourself for a moment.

Think.