Racing the length of the #Thames with @GlobeRowing senior women boat 1 to raise money for @LYRowing #diversity and #youngpeople in rowing. Over half way covered of 364km!
Woop! Sponsor here: https://t.co/YvFyE0h25j
The murder of Sarah Everard by a met police copper brought the subject to mainstream focus again, amidst some tabloid distractions about Kate Middleton’s unmasked appearance to the memorial, yet not over-shadowing the re-offence of police on women during the vigil in Clapham junction.
The UN has introduced Sustainability Values as part of the award assessment tool, with the majority of contracts requiring gender mainstreaming, and women’s empowerment embedded in development and diplomatic responses.The UK government (FCDO, ex Dfid), introduced Social Value as a 10% contributor to the assessment process of proposals from suppliers and empowering women is central to this. The current debate in the House of Lords will propose that all acts of hate against women should become illegal whereas this is law in some areas.
This is certainly a step in the right direction for progressive development based on a basic understanding of valuing human capital through a broader set than the traditionally Conservative industrialised societies’ lenses.
In this context, the role of social media has been beneficial in unveiling outdated body-shamers, bullies, trolls and harassers to women therefore providing evidence and a trail to pursue criminal convictions on those who overstep the line for one or for many.
Here’s a reminder of behaviours to record with screenshots (if you need to report and block an account) for evidence in both public and private situations;
- passive-aggressive electronic messages (emails, social media inboxes, messaging apps)
- threats to harm others or oneself
- offensive comments to others or to yourself
- threatening behaviours (gas-lighting and bullying as an ultimatum)
Violence on women can happen from women and men and non-binary folk alike. Violence from women can happen towards either groups too.
Hate is a crime.
Each one of us need to keep this awareness of making sure there is a trail. Whether it is happening to you, a friend or family, or someone in the street, keep a record on your notes, take photos and recall what happened and how it made you feel.
The more evidence we all gather, the more power it generates to put those at risk to women/trans-women for judicial scrutiny and influence the level of sentencing and/or rehabilitation approaches.
A few months into the latest UK covid related lockdown it’s a good time to highlight some fantastic opportunities connected to the river Thames.
Charities AHOY Centre and London Youth Rowing both have coaching apprenticeship opportunities listed here: https://www.lifetimetraining.co.uk/apprenticeship-vacancies/sport,london,,/, supported by Coach Core.
The Thames Skills Academy support two Level 3 apprenticeships (Boatmaster and Maritime Engineering). There’s an impressive range of career opportunitiesin the Maritime sector, adding more to the economy than rail and aviation combined.
Spread the word & hopefully some teens will be perkier as a result on top of having the opportunity to experience a slice of cockney history.
Poverty is a beautiful way of having power over those who have no means of producing their own food and goods for consumption
Small inches of snow in London, February 2020
It’s hard to imagine Gorman not growing up with Walcott being recited at home.
The opening lines referencing time, the internalisation of the challenge ahead, the humility of looking introvertily at one’s weaknesses and embracing the imperfections of oneself echoe Walcott’s Love after Love.
I could almost go as far as to say Walcott’s self healing treatment laid bare a platform on which Gorman was able to accelerate this message out of oneself and into the wider healing sense sought in community.
I’ll say no more.
Both poems are copied for your enjoyment.
Derek Walcott’s Love after Love (1940’s)
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Amanda Gorman’s Biden inauguration poem The Hill We Climb (2021)
When day comes, we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
We’ve braved the belly of the beast.
We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace, and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.
And yet, the dawn is ours before we knew it.
Somehow we do it.
Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.
We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.
And yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.
We are striving to forge our union with purpose.
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us, but what stands before us.
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.
We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.
We seek harm to none and harmony for all.
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew.
That even as we hurt, we hoped.
That even as we tired, we tried.
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.
Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.
Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid.
If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made.
That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare.
It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit.
It’s the past we step into and how we repair it.
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it.
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.
This effort very nearly succeeded.
But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.
In this truth, in this faith, we trust, for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.
This is the era of just redemption.
We feared it at its inception.
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour, but within it, we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.
So while once we asked, ‘How could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?’ now we assert, ‘How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?’
We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be:
A country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free.
We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation.
Our blunders become their burdens.
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change, our children’s birthright.
So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left.
With every breath from my bronze-pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.
We will rise from the golden hills of the west.
We will rise from the wind-swept north-east where our forefathers first realised revolution.
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states.
We will rise from the sun-baked south.
We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.
In every known nook of our nation, in every corner called our country, our people, diverse and beautiful, will emerge, battered and beautiful.
When day comes, we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid.
The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.
Just a quick one, a friend has been clearing out stuff by selling them on market place and the stories are worth every single penny she saves for peeps.
Here’s the latest update convo we had. To be true. This is our actual exchange.
The pan is gone.