Sit down, with a cup of whatever makes you feel cozy and stick with me here.
Representation
The first time I was made explicitly aware was when my first class had been selected to be on the cover photo of some educational document and the head teacher asked me to “Make sure I picked a ‘mixture’ of children”. Now to be fair this was a completely multi-cultural multi-faith mainstream London school with no ethnic majority and there was only one white British child in my class. So, honestly no matter who I picked it was going to ‘be a mixture’. It would have been significantly harder to purposefully pick a group that looked the same. But this was the first time I had selected children based on their appearance and it felt uncomfortable.
What I have learnt since about representation is that choosing that ‘mixture’ was a really important message for every child that saw that front cover. I was naive to think that these images do not have an impact and that making that decision was in some way wrong. I guess coming from my well-represented situation, I had never considered the responsibility of those behind the camera to ensure everyone has a voice and a familiar face to represent them. I found that exact publication recently and those memories flooded back of unity and harmony within a diverse community – well, as much as any group of kids anyway!
Now I live in the middle of the countryside where there is very little diversity, which I still find very unsettling. I feel the need to ensure my children remain as colour-blind as they were born. We seek out opportunities to entrench and celebrate diversity as often as we can. However, what can a non-famous white female do about representation? How do you promote equality on this sphere? Especially without making people or things tokenistic.
The actions I can take seem simplistic and small: ensuring my children see all different people within the tv shows they watch, we celebrate Diwali and Chinese New Year as well as Christmas, the books we buy have a spectrum of hero’s. We recently bought the picture book of ‘Long walk to freedom’ by Nelson Mandela to highlight the struggle faced in South Africa. Our kids loved the story and spot pictures of Nelson (first name terms now!) everywhere. There were some really amazing observations and discussions with our small children about this.
I know we don’t need to suffer or be subjugated to stand up for what is right, but how do you make people aware and intolerant of the imbalance represented without highlighting ethnicity tokenistically?
The quota system in South African sports has been a source of contention for a long time. The strongest of people refusing selection if they felt it was due to the colour of their skin, not based purely on talent. But the system is there for a very good reason. By ensuring that the best of the best who are representing the country, represent the whole country, in theory that should encourage schools and colleges to do the same. Hopefully making the representation, or ‘mixture’ as I was told, explicit leads to a more natural and implicit representation in the future.

Within my work this week I was looking into Dyslexia awareness week through the British Dyslexia Association to find out what the themes are that we could celebrate this year. As I was sending out an email with my expectations for the week to my colleagues, I realised it had taken a tone of justification. As if I should be justifying why the teachers should use their time to do this.
It then occurred to me that this was also about representation. Even if it’s only for one week a year that dyslexia is highlighted and understood, the knock-on effect for children’s self-esteem and self-worth, their view of themselves as a learner and their place in the world could be immense. (So I rewrote the email and everyone is on board!)

Maybe there is more I could do and I hope the opportunity arises, but for now I will continue to purposefully promote equality in diversity in all the little ways I can.
Here’s a link for those of you in education: https://www.blackhistorymonth.org.uk/
Bellyache
“Don’t get sucked into the darkness,” I told my husband as if I had it all under control myself. This week We have both gotten into online arguments with the ignorant. It took a toll on my spirit and patience.
I tried to keep my arguments concise, specific and factful but that’s not how the other half argue is it! Who needs fact when you have fear-mongering and hatred!? Who needs to read and respond when you can spew whatever crap you heard some dangerous doctor in Canada spew? But the ignorant and dangerous aren’t the issue here.
I used to feel that these fearful people on social media shouldn’t be engaged with as they are antagonising for the sake of it so you can’t win. You can’t change the mind of someone who can find a problem for every solution.
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hatred cannot drive out hatred, only love can do that”.
I take this to mean a great deal of things, one of which is how we chose to face opposition determines the outcome of the venture. If you chose to insult, berate and belittle you cannot drive out hate and change minds but if you always keep love first and foremost, then you stand a chance. This is all well a good until you’re faced with a moron telling you that there is no gender pay gap.

Thank you pinterest for this image.
I think that those on the side of good are reluctant to feel how I have felt this week. And I don’t blame them. Managing work, motherhood and being a partner to my husband are all significantly harder with anger in your gut. But I might have changed someone else’s heart – not the person I was arguing with but someone else who read it. That makes a difference. It’s vague and reward-less but it’s some light in the dark.
‘For girls’
Serena Williams
Planting seeds
Female body image portrayed in the media is toxic. This isn’t groundbreaking news but apparently this common knowledge isn’t enough to stop it. So we each fight our own personal battles from the humiliating baseline that we are not naturally emaciated as well as the female body generally considered shameful in one way or another. The other day a small victory happened from a surprising source which has given me so much hope.
My husband and I had a big wedding celebration in Johannesburg a few years back, in summer, so it was due to get pretty hot. I was helping my mum pack and she only had thick t-shirts and dresses with sleeves. My mum doesn’t do hot. She melts at anything above 23 degreesC. I told her she needed vests and sleeveless tops, to which her answer was ‘oh no, I don’t like the tops of my arms and everyone will see my flabby bits’.
This was not a shock, I have heard it from women far younger and skinnier than my mum. I’ve heard it from myself plenty of times historically. However, since I decided to not give a fuck about what other people think of my body, I have become more comfortable and happy in my own skin; I have stopped trying to prove something through my appearance and have become far less self-conscious.
Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t got it cracked and I’ve certainly not a healthy BMI score. But I am happier. I do have more self-worth.
So I gave my mum the rant I have given so many times before to essentially brick walls: “who gives a flying fuck what other people think of your appearance? If they honestly don’t have better things to think about than your flabby arms or wrinkles at the top of you armpits, then I would be more concerned about their pitiful, meaningless lives than about your body.” This time I added, Mum, “you have fought cancer and won who gives a shit about other people. You are going to die in 35degree heat- wear a fucking vest top!”
So she bought vest tops and wore no sleeves for the full 2 weeks she was there. A massively significant victory for me and my mum.
But here’s the lesson that has struck me. She now attends slimming world and is enjoying it, not for other people but for herself; she feels good. In the heatwave we’ve had this year, her fellow slimmers have admired her ‘courage’ in wearing sleeveless tops. When they comment on her ‘bravery’ she gives them the speech I gave her, just with less swearing. I don’t know if those ladies have gone on to show their armpit folds and bingo wings but the seed has been planted. And that seed was planted by my mum, which makes me excessively happy.
Jameela Jamil giving a perfect real-life example: https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/jameela-jamil-body-shaming_uk_5b9a249be4b041978dbff413
A post about the impact of negative female expectations: Negative distribution
Negative distribution
As I have reflected on my own thoughts and views of women, men, restrictions and equality, I have realised that many of the moments in the mirror – the self-doubt – sound an awful lot like the words of some women I have known.
Friends who have had distinct views on men and relationships have influenced me and shaped my thoughts at different times in my life. We are all surrounded by each others views all the time, especially now that we can give them from across the world. Even when you don’t agree with a view, it still has the ability to stick with you years on. One woman I knew viewed men as a tool who were not allowed to get too close; the other would bend and mound herself to what the stranger, aka potential husband, might possibly expect of her. When the relationship went south, one would blame the men for whatever slight she could remember and the other would blame herself for whatever ‘crime against perfection’ she could find in the mirror.
Here’s the clincher, both women were confident, funny, talented and beautiful, which they knew…until a man entered their lives. The patriarchal programming was jarring to me at the time and sickens me in retrospect.
I was once told by one of these ‘friends’: “if you don’t wax your arse, he’ll never want to stick his dick in it”. As if it was my responsibility to remove hair I didn’t know I had, just in case a guy I had just met wanted anal sex. My response was along the lines of it being ‘his problem’ but the shock from the depth of that statement has rung with me for a long time. The implication that if a man doesn’t want to have any kind of sex with me that it must be my fault! That something as natural as body hair could make me unattractive! That my appearance could be such a turn off after I had wooed them with my personality and wit!
In my darkest moments, I felt naïve that I had underestimated the aesthetic appeal, that I was a joke for thinking I could ‘compete with beauty’. However my façade, and now my darkest voice too, calls bullshit! My dad’s last argument against my first tattoo was ‘what if you meet a man who doesn’t like tattoos’, to which I responded ‘well I won’t like him very much either, so he’s obviously not the man for me!’ I stand by that. If you don’t like me for how I am, fuck off. I am not contorting, waxing, plucking, starving myself for anyone. I like me. I am funny, interesting, clever and strong, whether my legs are hairy or not. No “double agent for the patriarchy” (J Jamil, 2018) is going to tell me otherwise.
So I guess my point is that I am now much more critical when listening to well-meaning advice. For generations upon generations, we have been programmed by the patriarchy but at least if we can be aware of it and censor the programming from being redistributed from our mouths to other women, we stand a chance of evolving.
Read more about female body image: Planting seeds
Words have power so it’s time to choose the right ones.
This page is about equality and my desire for the world to be a more equal and tolerant place. I believe that the language we use has an impact on our lives and of those around us. So through this blog I aim to heighten my own, and hopefully others’, awareness of the language we use and the impact it has.
Feminism has been used as a judgemental label for too long. I believe that true feminists want equality for all. I want equality for everyone, no matter your hair, eye or skin colour, choice of lover, music or food, whether you pray, meditate or nothing at all. Equal and free to live our lives in a positive manner.
I have plenty of friends who have told me that it’s ‘just a joke’ to say, ‘he throws like a girl / screamed like a bitch / is so gay / have some balls / man-up’… and so many more. My question is what’s funny about being female or homosexual? I don’t get it. How are these characteristics humorous? …and when did testicles become the measure of anything?
I truly feel that if we equalise how we speak to each other, even how we refer to each other negatively, this is the first step to equality. It’s so simple: think about what you say.
If your boss thought carefully about the words they used, would they be so quick to treat you differently? What about the policeman or teacher? How would they treat you? Your partner or parents; would they treat you differently?
I once debated the use of swear words against a lady who felt that swearing showed a limited vocabulary. I argued that I know many words for moron but when needed ‘shithead’ was the only appropriate word. When I fell down the stairs, swearing like a trooper, my very well-spoken mother told me it was quite acceptable given the circumstances. I am waffling, my point isn’t about swearing but it’s not irrelevant; there is a time and place for swearing, but not for the types of phrases quoted above! Swearing (when done correctly) shows an emotion or point of view but using derogatory language, in reference to a group of people, only shows ingrained patriarchy, prejudice and fear.
I do not and cannot claim to know-it-all or be the perfect example, but what I can claim is that I am giving it my best to use language that can improve and further my development and understanding of the world. This is simply a log of my journey so far.
In the words of Maya Angelou: Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.
This is me trying to do better and using language to do so. My greatest hope is that someone will read this and change their point of view or feel the strength to use their voice too.