Dawn’s Blogs

2020: A Philosophy Of The Times

By Dawn M. Sanders

2020 has landed like a loaded jet halfway down the runway to hell – or is it two-thirds the way down?

Literally days into the new decade and without warning, President Trump drops a drone on a Senior Iranian commander.  With no consideration as to the implications and continuing with the long tradition of pest control and double standards, the US seemingly thinks it can get away with ignoring its fledgling power and influence in the world, its business as usual.

The Last of the Good Old Days

I came to the UK at 24 in 1992 and lived in London for 4-and-a-half years before opting for Brighton when I was pregnant and homeless with my now 23-year-old son.

My London days were filled with making new friends, hanging out with a couple of good London lasses and going clubbing with my misfit bedsit neighbours in a dive of a little place in London’s Archway.

When circumstances got the better of me and I ended up squatting in North London, I got friends with a dude who stayed platonic, which was easier to just hang out and go to as many of the free festivals we could get to with whoever tagged along.

However, when I became pregnant with my son, getting out of London when I did was the best thing I could have done, despite being of no fixed abode.

Brighton was good to me and I eventually landed a grotty studio flat, achieved residency and moved to a nicer, more spacious maisonette with my little lad.

Being a single mum, hard and lonely as it was, I had found my kindred spirits and Pagan roots at last.  Travelling, spending time at a quory protest site in a neck of the woods called Dead Woman’s Bottom, in the Forest of Dean.

I did Stonehenge and Avebury stone circles for the first time and life was bohemian beautiful.

A Darker Century

Wow!  So I’ve witnessed the turn of the century and it has been like turning into a darkened tunnel.

I feel like some living relic more bewildered by modernity all the time…

The millennium bug was all the panick and I remember sitting on my own in a fairly empty pub, as everyone was down on the beach for the fire works to see in the new millennium.  Sitting in Brighton’s Gladstone, I listened as pop tunes from the previous late 20^th century played over the speaker.  A new decade and mellinnium and there I sat on my own…

None of that mattered in the end, there we all were, no millennium bug and what a load of stupid humans…

The next year of course was the dark defining moment of 9/11 – who could ever, ever forget it?

The war, the protests, the lies and then of course the shadowy truth which many observing on the side-lines while politicians took us from night rades in the cities of Iraq, stand-offs in the mountains of Afghanistan to torture, had to uncover the truth themselves.

I was one of those political observers, as more of the truth was unearthed, the more I needed to know.

George W. Bush Jr. was in the Whitehouse by that time and I like other expats, was a shamed to admit to being American.

I had Joined Brighton’s peace coalition and the Truthout website mushroomed – based on the whole investigation into what was later found to be a conspiracy theory pointing to the claims of an inside job in years to follow.

I was fully immersed in my International Politics degree, having left Brighton for West Wales, a move I’ve regretted ever since, because the world was suddenly harsher.  Small-town ostrecism meant unspoken hostilities from the locals because my son and I were, not just non-Welsh, but ‘different’ and stood out.  My son and I may as well have been from outer space the way we were treated!

Highpoints, Intellectual and Political Growth

It was 2006 and I wanted to do field research in the Middle East, the place I had spent so much time reading about or hearing lecture after lecture on.

A flavour of it of course was when the lad and I travelled to

a so-called caravan in Morocco.

With a guide and translator, I made arrangements to have my son looked after and I was off to Egypt.

The experience was more than humbling, sobering and kind of bitter sweet.

I didn’t get on with my translator’s partner, a school teacher and spoilt western brat who insisted Egyptians should , ‘speak better English’ but we got through 5 weeks of the experience – including checkpoints in and out of Bethlehem along the perimeter wall, built by the Israelis.

I graduated University of Aberystwyth that next year with an average result which, was okay, because it was high time to get out of that hostile town.

Mistakes, Regrets and More Mistakes

Making all the wrong moves over the next several years was worse than being on any losing streak.  I won’t even grace the two years I spent down the toilet in yet another inbred small-town in Derbyshire with its name, as after two weeks there I knew I had made the wrong decision.

A stagnant period of trying this and that – getting nowhere and not any younger followed.

Then I did the web trawl of needle-in-the-haystack grasping at straws and found a part time foundation course on offer at University of Sheffield.

What followed was me sticking my head back into the sands of academia for another two years.

I had decided to look toward advocacy work with my wealth of life experience and experience of the awareness stuff I had done so far at university and alternative forums addressing special needs.

What would become yet another move I not only would regret, but to this day plagues my life as one of the worse mistakes I could have ever made for my little family.

During the time I raised my son single-handedly, with alternative principles as a free thinker, the threat of local authority intrusion was never far from my front door.

In fact, when it managed to barge it’s way into our lives – simply from an inaccurate tip off from someone in a playground in Aberystwyth or  disgruntled support workers who got too much mud on their shoes, stepping out of their comfort zone while accompanying us to a local festival, I had spent increasing amounts of time defending our position, right to be ‘different’ or, right not to “toe the line” when so-called professionals sized us up or made prejudged remarks about mine or my son’s capabilities or personality traits.

Sheffield, Socialism and Battles

When I left behind a council estate of unruly kids in the heart of middle England, I was desperate for a fresh start.

The only positives of the place, were a friendly next door neighbour and the fact it was only half an hour’s drive from my son’s specialist school, which meant he came home much more often.

Stupidly though, I didn’t make any manoeuvres to learn anything about Sheffield.  Before going to the open day at the university, I had never even been there.  But, in desperation to get out of small-town hell, bowing ‘never’ to live in a place like that again – I made the leap.

Maybe it was just the gipsy impulse I had leaped with when I was 24, new no one at all and had only visited the UK once, before deciding to immigrate – straight into the deepend.

I remember someone, a job coach at the job centre in the heart of Sheffield, telling me how, Sheffield was this macho kind of place – it was 2010 and he complained of how public services had been cut to the quick – I somehow never forgot that.

The 7 years I spent in Sheffield: trying to sniff out the need for advocacy, visiting volunteer organisations and making connections in a determined effort to move forward, were met with hostility of the most raw brand.

I was literally hounded by a social worker from the minute I set us up in a new home and everything I said or did was either taken out of context or scrutinised.

This hell ride became worse and worse – taking an unbearable turn when my son, who had been thriving at his school away from home, was ready for college and a change.

A failed business led me guess what, back to academia with the view to qualifying as a journalist.

Getting connected with Sheffield’s active Socialist party was a gem within poison pellets.

I did public speeches, got into the heart of our branch, helped with a policy or two and alas felt I had found where I had been politically all my life.

There was such a wealth of rich history to tap into – from when Sheffield’s buses were in public hands, the miners strikes, the general strike of 1926 – I had volumes to learn.

Keeping active in things I cared about kept me sane.

The Occupy movement mushroomed in the form of a makeshift camp in front of Sheffield’s cathedral and, their they all were, my kindred spirits, but it wasn’t to last.

In the final throws of my journalism masters, I waded through what felt like treacle, as the tit-for-tat with Sheffield became this psychological battle and war-of-words and wit.

I have since moved south, my son has lived in his own flat with support for 4 years, but the battle for our human rights and autonomy as a family rages on.

Ravaged by the battles of the last ten years, deteriorating health, worsening eye condition and overall wellbeing – life is edgy, a continuum of calculated risks and a struggle to keep the flame of hope alive.

Personal and Political Predictions

When I decided to write this, the intention definitely wasn’t to document this overview of the last 20+ years of my life, but that is what has manifested.

9/11 was the firing gun into this volatile century.  The invasion into Iraq was the prequel to where we now stand – poised on the brink of yet another conflict born out of the first one.

The earth has not only taken a baking from the rath of humans and their lust for convenience, comfort and an artificial environment, it has tilted rightward on it’s axis – causing the backward flow of hate, nationalism and xenophobia, like  toxic hot molten lava.

Upon moving to a small progressive city, I visited, researched it and made connections.

I did what I intended to do, which is join the Labour party (from the door on the left) but life progression has been slow.

At the very least, I think I have managed to not make the stupid impulsive leaps into hornet’s nests again.

We have been saddled with another 5 years of tyranny, austerity and a drain of power from common people to the ruling class.

My personal war with Sheffield city council is a microcosm of the constant political stand-offs or ensuing battles within our own little island nations.

So is it Mary Armageddon or jolly apocalypse?

I’m definitely not a Christian and certainly not your archetypal blind sooth sayer, but most tentatively the latter.

I do believe the world is rapidly self-destructing and will come to some sort of end in its current state.

What once was wrong: blatant lies, manipulating outcomes or imprisoning children because of their land-origin; glorifying in, or the celebration of autocracy, punishing the poor or disadvantaged – silencing whistle blowers, I could go on, but it has all become “the norm”.

By the same token what is now seemingly wrong: anyone with integrity, the will to help poor or disadvantaged people; a quest for the truth, reason-ability or equality and they are hounded and hated by the media.  An advocate for the poor, injustice and the truth, will be choked by those he/she attempts to hold accountable or scorned by the very people desperate for help.

Jeremy Corbyn is the latest example of someone falling victim to the Arthur Scargill treatment

Maryanne Gordon of London, a good friend, describes this kind of media distruction or vilification as: “Scargillised.”

People will argue that Corbyn isn’t a victim, but I would argue he has been for the last 4 years of leading the opposition, a victim of the times we’re living in.

Journalism is after all, not just about delivering the news anymore, it’s about pitching from which side the so-called gate-keeper is on.

Dare I predict this polarising game will continue until something comes to a head – so will it be a natural environmental disaster, like some huge earthquake or the political fallout of a nuclear war?

There’s still so much I want to do: land a part-time job to support my freelance journalism pursuits, keep active making a difference, excelling within the Labour party and most importantly, give my son what he wants, more autonomy and a  better quality of life.

So I’ve resolved to sit tight with vidulent insight as maybe we all should.  Ending within the spirit of anti-sentiments belted out by Neil Young in ’89 on the cusp of a new decade:

“We got a thousand points of light
For the homeless man
We got a kinder, gentler,
Machine gun hand
We got department stores
and toilet paper
Got Styrofoam boxes
for the ozone layer
Got a man of the people,
says keep hope alive
Got fuel to burn,
got roads to drive.
Keep on rockin’ in the free world.”

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A MOVEMENT IN MOURNING

By Dawn M. Sanders

My heart is crying, my head awash – is integrity and all
that is good in society broken?

One week on from the general election where Labour, the
party I have chosen based on its values, hemorrhaged
what we should have gained.

On election night, I stocked up on wine and cooked a good
enough dinner to get me through the night.
Every election night, I tend to stay up listening to the results roll in
amid the commentary on social media and whatever crackpot TV is being dealt
those of us awaiting results in heightened anticipation, rather than resolving
to wait until it all comes out in the wash in the morning.  .

When the exit
polls came in and they seemingly were burying the thing before it hatched I
thought, ‘this is outrageous they’ve hardly have had a first actual result yet.

I soon nodded off and came to about 3-somethinga.m.  Twitter seemed to dry up – I didn’t make
heads or tales in my half slumbered
state, as I sank back into an induced fog not wanting to really make heads or tales of what I suspected to be unravelling.

6o’clock came and I fully woke up, what was happening?

All I heard was “Labour is finished” from my TV and then it
dawned on me.

I knew it was going to be bad all the next day, but not as
bad as it eventually came to light.

I slept most of that next day, giving my new volunteer
pursuit a miss.

Shellshocked

Everyone but everyone at the very least expected a hung
parliament.  The campaign had been one
big mud bath of lies and heated debates with Corbyn shining through and Johnson
stammering and BS-ing his way through, yet when
people still dubbed him as ‘more prime ministerial’ it was jaw dropping, so
something was wrong, really wrong!

On the surface, Corbyn seemed to draw the largest crowds, as
he did in the 2017 election.

Like Theresa May, Boris Johnson did the whole repetitive
mantra of “Get Brexit done” which, not only quickly lost it’s luster, it was clear he was concerned with little else – in
denial on the NHS, blatantly showing the world he couldn’t care less about
the climate crisis, never mind flood
victims or children
in poverty.

His efforts during the campaign were minimalist, lazy and
almost of a ‘can’t be bothered’ mentality, yet the polls were biased even
before disastrous debates.

The now all-too-familiar cycle of vilifying Jeremy Corbyn
continued, but so did Corbyn’s failure to hit back or defend himself.

Throughout his 4 year tenure as leader of the Labour party,
not once did he seek legal action against the BBC or right-wing tabloids for
their continuing smear campaign – had he done so even once, his life might have
been that bit easier, he might have commanded more respect among his
adversaries, but it is sadly too little too late for all the could have beens or if onlys.

In the immediate days following the shocking result, as
truths came flying out of pent up frustrations and anguish following the
campaign with a hit list of shortcomings, Corbyn had been on
the edge of stepping down and giving up.

Where was the focus, the real zeal and opportunities
abandoned to simply take the government down or expose them?

The façade of enthusiasm, overly-ambitious
manifesto and lack of clarity, was enough to be the beginning of the end for a
leader so much of us have been so proud of.

So I have spent most of this week
dwelling in my poorly heated home, walking to and fro
or just sitting in utter disbelief.

How, why, why, why?

Because: too many people ‘just didn’t like Corbyn’ yet
couldn’t say why or see beyond the slow deliberate brainwashing of the media;

Because Brexit isn’t some black and white thing the
electorate can just neatly put into a box of either remain or leave;

Because Corbyn is just too soft, wet or nice, but mainly
just trying to help the poor and make the top percent more accountable;

Because Johnson is a known and outright liar who can’t
string together a sentence, but that’s okay?

Because the ruling elite will clasp their jaws on anything
to discredit an imperfect yet decent man and feed on the media-magnified issue
of
anti-semitism, ignoring their own racist and xenophobic sentiment and
hostilities paraded in plain view for all to see?

The injustices, the dirty tactics abound.  One man could not only assume the position of
under dog,
but endure being beaten back for so long – Corbyn has done his time.

The blame game keeps revisiting the notion that the north
has been neglected for far too long, yet not only is this a cliché, it is one
that completely ignores the fact that, the Tories have been in power nearly a
decade and have perpetuated that neglect.

Has the
HS2 project come to fruition?  Have
post-industrial towns and former mining villages truly recovered?

No of course they haven’t, but the right-wing agenda has
successfully steered away the Labour heartlands from all of these issues, maybe
they have become immuned, but Brexit has been the
eclipsing factor in a polarised society as the rest of Europe looks on in
bemusement toward the island of eejits.

The Russia Report and Voter rigging

When it came to light that a report based on external
interference by Russia
into British elections was being withheld by Boris Johnson I became
worried, because of what was at stake pre-election, the high hopes we all had
on the left and how close we well, could have been to victory.

It has already been public knowledge how Russia allegedly
interfered into
the 2016 US election or highly plausible how there was Russian interference
in the Brexit result of that same year.

So, once the
Russia Report had stuck its head just far enough out of the ground to make
itself known, I felt compelled to do something.
Despite Corbyn and other opposition leaders asking what Johnson had to
hide, the demands lacked continuity and the same rigor as
Corbyn drew on leaked documents surrounding the NHS and secret talks
between Trump and Johnson regarding
trade deals which would see the NHS sold off to American private
companies.

So I decided to embark on a change.org petition to help
demand the release of the dossier, but it was futile in the face of a frenzied,
chaotic campaign .

Post-election and Johnson has to his convenience, agreed to
release the report, so I’m baffled, not only with the result of this election,
but by the outright blatant interference which has without a doubt just
cemented a huge Tory majority, yet no one is questioning?

The writing was on the wall, but no one was looking…

Broken

As parliament reconvened and a reinvigorated, swaggering,
smirking Johnson reaffirmed the mantras of the last 5 weeks to his new and
existing power base, a broken Jeremy Corbyn, as the final slaying was laid bear
with angry unseated MPs, a demoralised membership and stunned survivors of the
election, sauntered to the front of the chamber to apologise to those who lost
their seats and congratulated his opponent in true humility.  I was heart broken
for him, for us and for the millions of kids that will still live in poverty.

I ache for those sleeping out on the streets, because their
lives collectively will be overlooked and trashed as they have been for the
last 9 years.

A Personal Blow

Naturally, I look inward and to my own private hell and how
my family has suffered the ‘other racism’ under the Tory’s hostile environment.

Where those of us who are ‘different’ disenfranchised or
marginalised with visible/invisible challenges, face systemic injustice and are
treated like the under-class in the last bastion of social prejudice.

My hopes and dreams of being able to experience the lifting
of the hostile environment, so I could approach applying for full citizenship, enableing me to run for public office, have now been dashed
– at least for another 5 long years.

What’s To Come?

Well, if like me, you have been terrified for the
environment in lack of decisive action by particularly right-wing governments
of developed countries who favour big corporation over the planet or human
wellbeing, guess what – it’s not going to change.

If you have experienced the right  to a free health service, enjoy it
while we still have it, because it is probably the beginning of its demise.

If your child has had a shortage of supplies at school or
you are having trouble putting food on the table – get used to it, because with
all of these things and many other social and economic failings of the last
near decade, it seemingly is what those who voted the Tories back with a
vengeance thrive upon.

As the uncertainty of a hard Brexit looms and facing
whatever repercussions it brings will test our endurance – for those who switch
to the other side, it will be ‘there tern’ to do the reflecting and
soul-searching!

No politician is perfect.
At the end of the day politicians are human, influenced to the tune of
different ideologies or flags.

People often complain of the corruption of those elected to
power, yet when one comes along who, truly wants to make a difference, cares
about the poor or stands up for his convictions against the grain as Corbyn has,
people become intoxicated with a loathing which was cultivated out of hate and
spite.

Corbyn was never a match for the vicious venom-spewing
snakes and vipers in parliament or their external influencers.

He was routinely vilified, hounded and harassed by the
media, opposing figures within the Labour party and finally crucified by an
ideology that kills, considers people by the colour of their skin or within the
class hierarchy of the pecking order.

We are a movement in mourning, but already there are those
seeking Solis through a new beginning, a kind of ‘try again’ or which new
leader will bring us victory and a brighter future

I still feel bereaved.

My heart is crying, my head awash – is integrity and all
that is good in society broken along with Jeremy and our movement?

Corbyn has been the embodiment of integrity and all that is
good in society, which is why thousands have joined Labour under his guidance.

Will Labour lurch like a reactionary pendulum in the
opposite direction, just to gain power?

Keir
Starmer, Shadow Brexit Secretary, is right in his
voice of reason, ‘we need to stand proud of our values, stop the in-fighting
and just be who we are again’.

By Dawn M. Sanders

With all the botched handlings of Brexit and trying to get a bad deal through that would never satisfy pro-leave or pro-remain supporters when it comes to exiting the EU, not to mention the shabby way this government has handled domestic issues such as benefits cuts, the amount of people now using food banks, the Grenfell Tower fire, cuts in public services, an ailing NHS and the list goes on.  Any opposition party should have capitalised on the failings of the Tories.

With the all-prevailing issue of Brexit over-stepping or more accurately, in tandem with domestic worries, it was naturally predicted to be an annihilation of Tories on council seats.  The annihilation happened, to the tune of them losing over 1,300 seats – amounting to losing control of 45 councils.

Despite defeats for both main political parties, the above article highlights the Foreign Secretary’s and Shadow Chancellor’s short sightedness in surmising the results were the voters simplistically saying, ‘sort Brexit’ but no it’s about democracy, stupid…

As a member of the Labour party, it was all too easy to think, ‘this is it, here’s our chance’ but hang on, Jeremy Corbyn kept ping-ponging on whether or not there should or could be a second referendum, which is the growing appetite of the party and large swathes of the country.

For those of us who know the realities of how the electorate mind works in black and white and how one is either for or against a certain key and defining set of policies, Brexit in this case – the most polarising dilemma in peace time British history, a leader cannot say: “We’ll implement this, but only if that or the other happens.”

So, the bloody nose delivered to Labour in the local elections can only amount to an ‘I told you so’ sigh of utter frustration.

It is only those of us who can be bothered to analyse Corbyn’s logic and clumsy strategy, who might be willing to grant him patience against a backdrop of growing dissatisfaction of his leadership.

Whereas, other more outright pro-remain parties have just said, ‘yes, lets have another people’s vote and get on with it – because these smaller often more pragmatic parties know people just want it kept simple, clear and decisive.

The lack of clarity and hope to please both brexiteers and Remainers has severely bruised Labours chances of success in a general election.

As it was rightfully pointed out the other day by a news commentator – if it was a general election, it would have been hung, yes in several directions.

For all of my support and respect of Corbyn, I now am losing patience and think he is obstructing the opportunity to make real headway and the change that is so desperately needed.

Okay, so Labour didn’t lose as many seats or councils as the Tories i.e. 63 seats amounting to 4 councils (according to the Guardian article above) but the party is losing members and credibility.

It’s getting harder to justify or argue his position, when actually it’s becoming down right embarrassing.

The EU elections are another kettle of fish, but could still result in a patchwork of agendas and ideologies.

The Tories will be annihilated there again, because they don’t want to stand members of European Parliament (MEP’s) in the first place.

I am much less clued up on the European elections, so I won’t elaborate here, but from what I have gathered on my close monitoring of the whole heaving mess, is the Conservative possibles for MEP will be hardcore Brexiteers who would seek to create as much disruption as they can muster along with Nigel Farage’ creation,  the Brexit party.

The coming weeks could be seismic, but because the British don’t do Greek-style revolts or even French-style rebellions, it will be a slow but deliberate earthquake on the landscape of British politics.

© 2019

POST LOCAL ELECTIONS FALLOUT

By Dawn M. Sanders

With all the botched handlings of Brexit and trying to get a bad deal through that would never satisfy pro-leave or pro-remain supporters when it comes to exiting the EU, not to mention the shabby way this government has handled domestic issues such as benefits cuts, the amount of people now using food banks, the Grenfell Tower fire, cuts in public services, an ailing NHS and the list goes on. Any opposition party should have capitalised on the failings of the Tories.
With the all-prevailing issue of Brexit over-stepping or more accurately, in tandem with domestic worries, it was naturally predicted to be an annihilation of Tories on council seats. The annihilation happened, to the tune of them losing over 1,300 seats – amounting to losing control of 45 councils.

Despite defeats for both main political parties, the above article highlights the Foreign Secretary and Shadow Chancellor short sightedness in surmising the results were the voters simplistically saying, ‘sort Brexit’ but no it’s about democracy, stupid…

As a member of the Labour party, it was all too easy to think, ‘this is it, here’s our chance’ but hang on, Jeremy Corbyn kept ping-ponging on whether or not there should or could be a second referendum, which is the growing appetite of the party and large swathes of the country.
For those of us who know the realities of how the electorate mind works in black and white and how one is either for or against a certain key and defining set of policies, Brexit in this case – the most polarising dilemma in peace time British history, a leader cannot say: “We’ll implement this, but only if that or the other happens.”
So, the bloody nose delivered to Labour in the local elections can only amount to an ‘I told you so’ sigh of utter frustration.
It is only those of us who can be bothered to analyse Corbyn’s logic and clumsy strategy, who might be willing to grant him patience against a backdrop of growing dissatisfaction of his leadership.
Whereas, other more outright pro-remain parties have just said, ‘yes, lets have another people’s vote and get on with it – because these smaller often more pragmatic parties know people just want it kept simple, clear and decisive.
The lack of clarity and hope to please both brexiteers and Remainers has severely bruised Labours chances of success in a general election.
As it was rightfully pointed out the other day by a news commentator – if it was a general election, it would have been hung, yes in several directions.

For all of my support and respect of Corbyn, I now am losing patience and think he is obstructing the opportunity to make real headway and the change that is so desperately needed.
Okay, so Labour didn’t lose as many seats or councils as the Tories i.e. 63 seats amounting to 4 councils (according to the Guardian article above) but the party is losing members and credibility.
It’s getting harder to justify or argue his position, when actually it’s becoming down right embarrassing.

The EU elections are another kettle of fish, but could still result in a patchwork of agendas and ideologies.
The Tories will be annihilated there again, because they don’t want to stand members of European Parliament (MEP’s) in the first place.
I am much less clued up on the European elections, so I won’t elaborate here, but from what I have gathered on my close monitoring of the whole heaving mess, is the Conservative possibles for MEP will be hardcore Brexiteers who would seek to create as much disruption as they can muster along with Nigel Farage’ creation, the Brexit party.

The coming weeks could be seismic, but because the British don’t do Greek-style revolts or even French-style rebellions, it will be a slow but deliberate earthquake on the landscape of British politics.

© 2020

LABOUR PARTY CONFERENCE 2019: Just in Case You Missed It

By Dawn M. Sanders

“The cause of Labour is the hope of the world.” Shadow Chancellor John McDonnell

As I discovered last year at my first Labour Party Conference, it is a hot bed of passion, opinions (often clashing) and over all a beacon of hope in the dark times we live in.

So, as conference was taking place in my old hometown of Brighton, where my son was born, pagan and political seeds were sewn, I jumped at the chance to attend this year despite financial constraints.

My assistant and I checked into a cosy, friendly Airbnb and got a local train straight to The World Transformed (TWT) HQ which was a tent that had been erected in Brighton’s Old Stein Gardens. We arrived to find a crowd anticipating the opening speech by a young woman who had experienced the gig economy in the form of poor pay, stressful long hours and poor working conditions, yet with fierce campaigning her situation improved. Her speech crediting the Labour party of its stance on zero hours contracts was followed by a speech delivered at breakneck speed by Jeremy Corbyn and the whole place was buzzing.

Under Currents

Despite the external festival-like vibe, internal conflict had arisen within the Labour party during a motion passed by Momentum’s John Lansman, on the eve of conference. The motion sought to oust the post of Deputy Leader Tom Watson as his position as staunchly remain which was felt to potentially threaten the careful positioning on Brexit by Jeremy Corbyn and senior shadow cabinet members. After 2 votes the motion fell, seemingly achieving little apart from a storm of media sensationalism.

Highlights

Fringe events at the conference are always the meat and muscle of the programme, as workshops are thought-provoking, generate healthy debate and inform members and supporters on policy. There are always simply too many things going on at once to see it all.

There was a workshop on special education, a ‘what to expect’ exclusive for first-time conference goers, an abundance of workshops on climate change (including what was scheduled from the main hall on Labour’s Green New Deal) – likewise as one would expect, with Brexit and its many debates. I attended a complex workshop on the issue of left-wing parties throughout Europe and whether they did or did not align. The meeting on transport, long distance and local, was an opportunity to engage and share ideas as we were put into groups. David Lammy MP led an educated perspective on the legalisation of cannabis and how Labour would take a measured and regulated approach.

One of the best highlights for me was seeing the previewed showing of ‘Sorry, We Missed You’ a Ken Loach produced, page out of every day life and one family’s struggle with the casualization of work and its cruel exploitation.

There were rallies, key motions voted upon (such as the plight of migrant women as addressed at the Labour Women’s conference in February) manifesting in emotional mini-speeches from the floor. There were ambitious key speeches, such as John McDonnell, setting out a clear agenda for a Labour government and reiterating Labour’s stance on Brexit. McDonnell ended his speech with the Socialist sentiment: “The cause of Labour is the hope of the world.”

Fractious

Like any politically-charged atmosphere, the conference was laden with tension and opposing opinions. Walking along the crowded pavement outside the Brighton Centre, was some times argumentative, ‘Don’t point in my face’ someone said. Another day walking past and a young man shouted, ‘the EU is scum!’ For the most part though, people seemingly kept their cool.

By Tuesday, when the anticipated news broke that the Prime Minister acted unlawfully by proroguing parliament, as handed down by the supreme court – reaction was swift, with Jeremy Corbyn moving his final speech forward to that afternoon as parliament would reconvene the next day.

With such a big development announced during the last full day of Labour party conference, ensuing energies heightened and everyone was possibly reminded why we were there and what we stood for.

One week on from the conference and events are moving by the hour. As the Tories FINISH   their conference in Manchester – the strongest remain vote in the north, the nation must brace itself for the inevitable – whatever that might be.

© 2019

THE PERILS OF VISUAL IMPAIRMENT: The School of Hard Knee Knocks

By Dawn M. Sanders

I hope you don’t read this and think, ‘awe you poor thing’, – never! It has to be said though, the perils of visual impairment can be lethal and usually when you least expect it.

Last night I was going out to my local One-Stop shop and booked a taxi to go down and come straight back up to where I live.
I know where the shop is and walk there all the time, but as a woman I don’t do walking on my own at night, even in my neighbourhood, which is really safe.

So, I was rushing to get the taxi, because the shop was going to shut in half an hour, but it takes 2 minutes in a cab, 2 to be in the shop and no time to get back – so I wasn’t worried about the time.
However, in my haste, I went crashing into the new flower bed they put in on my estate, which is in an awkward corner where I used to just follow the grass line to either stand and wait for a taxi at the top of the steep hill I live on or walk down to the bus stop.
I stopped to look at the geraniums and pretty purple flowered plants they put into the new flowerbed after filling it with bags of soil the other day, so I knew the sodding thing was there and in fact I slowed a tad to negotiate it, but it was too late.
I met the flowerbed with both knees and fell flat on my butt!
It’s okay if you wonna laugh – I’m laughing now writing this…
Last night though, it wasn’t funny and I sat there on the ground glad that no one was around.

Where I live on the edge of my small city, next to fields in suburbia on the edge of Exeter is so quiet at night especially, you can hear the grass grow, so I was the only living being stirring at the time.
I could feel the pain welling up in my left knee and I had grazed my right one and there was a new small whole in my leggings.
I slowly got up and walked to the top of the hill where I always wait for the taxi.
I stood there in the chilly night air in the silence, as the time ticked on.
The shop shut at 11 and at a quarter to 11 I thought, ‘this is a joke why aren’t they here yet’?
5 minutes later my cab turned up, just before I was going to walk back to the flat and give up.

The driver was apologetic, but by the time I just got in the door before closing, it was too late to get what I wanted.
So, my last fiver went down the toilet on a flaming taxi along with banged up knees – not my idea of an enjoyable evening.

Should I have ventured out?
Life is full of should’ve, could’ve, would haves.
Should I have bothered?
Absolutely but, if I could have set out earlier, I would have avoided rushing to get a taxi, probably avoiding clobbering myself on a damn flowerbed and the whole bloody mission ‘would have been accomplished’.

Awe well, what the hell – not much keeps me down without getting right back up again in true defiance of life’s hard knocks – even at the knees!
😊

By Dawn M. Sanders

I’ve been holding off for as long as possible on writing this article, because like everyone else I’m sick to death of Brexit-related stories, news and speculation.

That said, a week and a half on from joining a million others in London to march in the biggest demonstration since the Iraq War and ‘I really feel’ its about so much more than leaving the European Union, what we are witnessing is a real eroding of democracy.

“It means actually giving us a chance to decide on the truth and the real things that are going on and not going on misinformation.” Said Greta from South London who marched for a people’s vote on 23^rd March.

So, we all now know the 2016 referendum was all about mud-slinging on both sides, especially the leave campaign, which has had to be investigated, as its donors and funders either have been under investigation for corrupt motives or exceeding the limits in accordance to campaign rules.

The other major miscarriage of trust and data violation was of course the Facebook debacle – leading to a complex interaction of players, resulting in the shutting down of AIQ (AggregateIQ) the Canadian firm involved in the Cambridge Analytica scandal.

Getting back to the 2016 referendum, as has been recently pointed out by some commentator, which or where I lose track in the menagerie of press coverage, that it simply was a choice of in or out – not ‘what kind of Brexit’ if you choose leave – presumably that would have been too complicated and an insult to the intelligence of the electorate to not have taken that approach.

Now, with the grave threat to trade with are biggest partner, the EU, looming; restrictions on freedom of movement; the border between Northern and Southern Ireland and anything in between thrown into chaotic uncertainty, people are either rightfully changing their minds or simply want the chance to make coherent sense of the mess the government has landed us in.

However, despite the march for a People’s Vote, it seemingly was hardly acknowledged or mentioned in last week’s chaos and mellow drama. As the bickering and mess carries on inside the Houses of Parliament, the growing unrest and anger at the utter shambles is more vocal all the time outside. Crazily though, the Tories plod on with ‘party first, people second’ manoeuvres.

It wasn’t enough to act on Theresa May’s deal to 2 decisive outcomes, as she pressed for a third vote in which the deal was cut in half out of blatant desperation, none of the  indicative votes resulted in anything decisive or definite, as none of them rendered a majority.  There are extreme Brexiteers who would rather see no deal at all than dream of any compromise and of course there are those dead against a second referendum under the guise of ‘it wouldn’t solve anything or cause further polarisation’.  Yet all of the obstructions to a much-needed democratic process, prevail because the government cannot manage it, amounting to what parliamentarians can’t or won’t face – bias toward their own ideology or party protection.

All of the above sentiments were voiced in speaking to people on the march.

Anyes, a French national who couldn’t vote on the referendum said: “I was actually very upset, I’ve been a resident for 20 years, paying my taxes, being married to a British national, as my children were born here – so it means everything.  Also I think after the speech from the Prime Minister has embolden me even more to come today, because she said she spoke ‘for the people’. No, she doesn’t – she has refused us a vote…”

When asked ‘what does it mean for you to be here today’ James said: “A lot because I doing it for my children.  I’ve lived abroad, worked abroad and went to university in Europe.”  He continued, saying why should his children not have a chance to go to a French school – it’s a shame, what are we doing leaving Europe?

Another woman from North Hampton said her husband’s company was on hold due to the uncertainty of Brexit.

One of the many speakers on the day belted out, ‘why should Theresa May have 3 votes – we have had 1!

As the original date for our departure from the EU has passed, anger and unrest inside and outside parliament grows.  With April upon us, a small extension of deadline from the EU and yet we witness another round of indicative votes for MP’s – not to mention another shameless attempt by May for a vote on a half-baked dead deal.  The chaos carries on amid continued austerity and all the other domestic issues, as the government fixates on Brexit.

For instance, in our quarterly regional forum, it was highlighted just how dyer schools are faring, due to under-funding.  Within the target-obsessed culture for schools – determining the deserving and undeserving, Devon had generally performed well, but has now fallen in line with some of the most deprived and demoralised with the threat of reduced numbers of qualified teachers or closures.

Someone in the forum piped up, with a deprived second referendum or the immediate affects of a no deal or bad Brexit, there could be civil disobedience – I think she might be right.

I have to agree with a good friend of mine who regularly muses: those in the ruling class as having the emotional intelligence of cockroaches.

© 2019

REFLECTIONS: A YEAR IN WAITING AND ANTICIPATION

By Dawn M. Sanders

Well here we are again – that time of year when, not only is it fading fast before our eyes, we reflect on what could have been, what should have been and grasp for what actually did come to fruition in the last twelve months. That is, at least I do this tired old ritual every flaming old year ending/new year beginning.

New Year’s resolutions? I can’t think of a bigger waste of energy as they inevitably vaporise the minute they hit the light of day…

No, for me and I know so many others – it’s literally down to ‘staying sane’ keeping our heads above water and keeping it together, whatever defines that anymore.

Sounds cynical? Maybe it is, but I’m a realist, sometimes a pragmatist, but forever a warrior of determination.

This last year saw me try and try again, to jump start my journalism escapades, but it was like trying to jump start a powerful motorcycle with not enough petrol or an unskilled driver.

All the little linking up of publications to my own writings; all the quick and crafty social media guru-ship demanded by employers who, get so many applications for particularly entry-level jobs – only to take so many and cast the rest of the applications aside.

Okay, so I had an interview in the summer up in Bristol.

It didn’t matter that, I not only got there on time – despite it being right across the city from Bristol Parkway in a tucked away little industrial estate, the employer seemed to take issue with the fact I came from Exeter.

Oh, and the 3 months wasted time, energy and bags of patience at the Royal National College (RNC) for the blind that is: a specialist college who, if I was going to have learned the specialist skills needed with being more social media savvy in tandem with using a screen reader – it should have been there, not the case and I walked away from it empty-handed and feeling cheated.

There has been the promise of a more localised programme to supposedly provide the bespoke training I didn’t get from the RNC, but again, that is yet to happen so, it’s been hurry up and try/wait, try/wait – leaving me more exasperated than when I started with any kind of initiative or ambition.

All that said, I’ve just started to gain footing with my local Labour party constituency and contributing even in the smallest way has been amazing.

I went to the party conference in September where, the air was full of opposing views, yet optimism and I was able to conduct a meaningful interview of one of our delegates.

As the momentum for change is building – almost by the day – so too is the desperate situation the UK is in, let alone the rest of the world.

The chorus of climate change denial has become deafening, the erosion of democracy has never been more visible and daily life is more and more life wading through quicksand.

But hey, I could sit here all damn night as an armchair activist – banging on about what’s wrong or messed up with the world on a political, social or personal level, but we’ve scoffed the Chinese take away and it’s time to get ready to go out and see in yet another new year.

What we all need is a huge injection of hope not hate; aligning ourselves in the fight for a better tomorrow, not alienation from the grim realities of what is happening around us.

I mean, if we can’t have hope, determination and staying power to see away the bad forces taking hold all around us, then its:

Mary Armageddon and jolly apocalypse…

So now off with my new partner (the one thing that I never saw coming out-of-the-blue) this year – like some peaceful bird flying over from the other side of life’s perspective – we’re off to the cheesy karaoke in a rough and ready neighbourhood pub.

Happy New Year!

DISCRIMINATION TO WALK

By Dawn M. Sanders

Today I was greeted with yet another example of barefaced discrimination and prejudice by none other than a supposed life coach and organiser of a women’s wellbeing group here in Exeter.

When the walk was posted on Hello Spark the meet-up group

, I was of course immediately interested and up for it as a keen walker and lover of the outdoors.

I ‘never disclose’ my visual impairment – whether it’s applying for a job or even something as simple as joining a group for a Sunday walk, because I’ve had so many instances as the one I’ve just been confronted with, yet again.

Despite a policy of not disclosing my visual impairment, the walk is to take place in a small village I probably can’t get to easily by bus or train without it taking ages on a Sunday service or not being familiar with the bus route – as it’s automatically assumed people are going to drive there.

So, I put out a reasonable request for someone to meet me off the train in 2 different locations – according to what would be convenient and even posted my phone number for someone to get in touch.

Yet, what I got was no response for a day – then only to wake up to a message from one Catheryn Hope:

“Hi Dawn, Becky & I have talked about your request but we feel that the Sunday walk is not suitable for you if you have a sight impairment as the ground is very varied from hilly to stoney plus 7 miles plus in total & we could not be responsible for your safety especially as it’s quite a large group. There will be other walks happening that are more leisurely & flatter in the future. Apologies for any disappointment, but we are thinking about overall safety. Hope you have a good weekend. ”

My response to this was of course in the form of reminding her that being visually impaired does not affect my legs, it isn’t up to her and someone else to ‘decide for me’ on how far I’m able to walk or in fact whether or not I can handle rough Touraine, my opening statement was:

“Yet another example of barefaced discrimination under the guise of health and safety.”

As, people often insist that, to have a visual impairment not only means you can’t walk up steps, feel the undulating ground under your feet or need to be wrapped in cotton wool – taking the ‘easy way’.

I also reminded her why, I usually don’t disclose my visual impairment, due to this very reaction and prejudgement and decisions made by people who don’t even know me – all this despite the eloquent waffling on her website.

The astonishing prejudice that comes from someone who is supposedly a life coach, not only means she herself and others like her have a lot to learn in their limited mind-set, but a lack of willingness to understand people in different situations with a view to appreciating diversity.

This is not the first time I have been prevented from a simple walk in lovely nature, to the tune of people who create ‘issues’ that don’t exist.

The stinging clincher being – people like Ms. Hope just put out these unwelcoming, discriminating messages, yet she’ll not want any angry reaction from me, any repercussion or debate – it’s just: “Sorry for the disappointment, have a good weekend.” End of story, but ‘I’ think not!

People of this mentality should never be organising a so-called wellbeing group if they think they yield the power to prevent the wellbeing of someone – based on their own prejudice or prejudgment.

So, I strongly suggest Ms. Hope tries a little practicing-what-she-preaches or walk her talk…