Sending a Message to the Playboy Twins

These ‘playboy twins’ are really starting to wind me up.  I fully support anyone’s right to earn money within the boundaries of the law in whatever way they desire – if that means posing naked, entwined with your twin sister or sharing a wrinkly ‘boyfriend’ with a gaggle of other blondes then fine, more power to you.  Equally, I believe that everyone has the right to choose to keep their sexual-self unavailable for public consumption and have this choice respected by others.  But to make a living selling sex whilst being offended by being viewed as a sexual object is as nonsensical as a chef being put out when asked how best to use the unidentifiable object in the bottom of the Riverford box.

I realise that they want to make the point that they are more than just aesthetically pleasing (if you like that kind of thing) but their approach to others suggests that that is exactly how they see themselves.  If a man doesn’t like them, they assume it’s because he was desperate to have sex with them and is covering up his distress at being spurned by pretending he doesn’t like them.  If a woman appears unfriendly they tell themselves that it’s because she’s jealous.  Girls, you can’t have it both ways.  Some people really are unaffected by your looks and just don’t like you because you’re quite often not very nice.  Believe it or not, there are even some people who – gasp – don’t find you very attractive!

Evolution ensures that there are physical characteristics that we find appealing and if a person of either gender can use this to their advantage then I don’t see how that’s much different from working with one’s innate intelligence, creativity, or athleticism to get ahead.  The kinds of people who make money from any of these things take what they’re born with and work on bettering it.  For the Shannon twins though, a healthy dollop of self-awareness and humility would enhance nature’s gifts more than any boob job.

Karen

Choosing a skate name is, for many people, a pivotal moment.  Names are symbolic, choosing them even more so; it’s no coincidence that the only other times most people change their names are when they get married or get a peerage (surely not long now, right?) – life-changing moments where we want the world to know we’re different than we were before.  Bestowing a skate name upon oneself is the symbolic equivalent – it says ‘I am part of the roller derby world,’ ‘I am badass.’  When I chose my skate name (with significant help from my husband) it was a big deal.  It really felt like it meant something.

Nearly three years later, however, I have decided that I am no longer going to use ‘Katomic Bomb' and that from now on I will skate as me; Karen.  This is definitely not a sign that I am no longer part of the roller derby world and most certainly does not mean that I am no longer badass – it’s a bit more complicated than that.

I have read many people’s accounts of their time as a derby rookie and a theme that crops up fairly regularly is one of derby providing empowerment and an opportunity to discover and unleash aspects of themselves that the wider world was previously unaware of.   Giving this new persona its own name strengthens and realises it.  This has no resonance with me whatsoever.  I was 31 when I started playing roller derby; a grown, married woman in a responsible job who was already pretty darned empowered.  I didn’t need derby to show me how to be disciplined and feisty and competitive – rather it worked the other way around in that the sport was an outlet for these well-established facets of my character.  I love that this sport has transformative power and think that the facility to recognise this through the choosing of a new name is symbolic and powerful; it’s just not for me.

Yesterday’s tournament at Tattoo Freeze was one of several recent events which have seen roller derby reaching out to a wider audience in the UK.  The sport is reaching a crossroads in this country and soon there will have to be important decisions made about its future.  I am firmly in the camp that wants roller derby to be taken seriously.  It is a complicated, tactical sport, requiring brains, brawn and tight teamwork, is truly accessible to people of all shapes and sizes and is wonderful fun to watch.  The Olympics would be better with roller derby in them and the competition fiercer and more exciting with funding available to invest in training at a local and junior level.  My concern is that the roller derby ‘scene’ which attracts so many people and is undeniably part of what makes the sport so special, might also be its biggest obstacle.  Skate names and boutfits, I feel, make it easy for people to decide that it’s not worth looking any further – that we’re not serious sportspeople or that it’s a game that’s not for ‘people like me’.  Reverting to my real name is my personal way of saying, ‘this is serious – we are serious.’  Personally, it’s not about the scene, it’s about the sport.

I realise that many people will feel quite differently about this issue, and the fact that the Derbiverse accommodates us all is a big part of its wonderfulness.  Let’s hope that that doesn’t get lost as we negotiate the exciting and important times to come.

Resolute

I know I’m a couple of weeks late for New Year’s Resolutions but hey-ho.  Here they are.

1.    Relearn to focus.

I have always inhabited a comfortable space somewhere between single minded and easily distracted, generally able to become one or the other as necessary.  Recently however, I have realised that my ability to control my focus is waning.  I spend too much time tinkering on my laptop with the television on, doing neither activity particularly well and remaining unfulfilled by both experiences.  This is ridiculous and is spilling over into other areas of my life.  From now on I will choose one thing to do and do it; if I am distracted into something else, I will abandon my first pastime and do the second.  Simple.

2.    Be a better friend.

In the last few months I have had cause to be exceptionally grateful for my wonderful friends and I am aware that I do not nurture my friendships in the way that I should.  Tending towards reclusiveness as I do, I can be a lazy friend.  In 2012, I will be try to be more sociable and will certainly be more appreciative of the great people who surround me.

3.    Be able to turn stop in both directions.

4.    Explore different ways of making a living.

I like my job, I do, but it doesn’t please me on anything other than a superficial level.  It affords me the time and money, generally, to do the things I want to do but I can’t help thinking that there could be a more fulfilling way to earn a living.  ‘Working to live’ is all very well, but I spend a great deal of my waking hours at work, so it’d be nice if those hours were intrinsically rewarding rather than simply being an investment in my leisure time.

5.    Stop being the drunkest person in the room.

6.    Get happy.

Absolutely no idea how to achieve this one.  Hopefully the other resolutions will lead me in the right direction and life will fall into place.  Or maybe I’m just a miserable bugger and I need to accept it, embrace it and crack on.  Who knows?  Hopefully 2012 is the year I find out!

Bring it on!

Reflective

Many of the things which happen to us – the conversations we have, the people we meet – are time and place dependent, but as 2011 finishes I thought I’d share a particularly poignant experience I had in August.

I was in Ethiopia for the second time that year, having been thoroughly intoxicated by the country at Easter, and was enjoying getting further under the skin of this fascinating and beautiful place.  I found myself having a rather intense discussion with a local man who was convinced (and was telling me as the BBC’s de facto representative, bring British) that the BBC was solely responsible for Ethiopia’s lack of prosperity.  He cited the images broadcast in the ‘80s and explained that these had so influenced the world’s understanding of the country that no one would visit or trade with them as they perceived it to be a famine ravaged dustbowl filled with pot-bellied children too malnourished to brush the flies from their eyes (to be fair, he didn’t use this exact description).  My impassioned defence of the Beeb (which I believe to be one of the most wonderful things about the UK) involved trying to explain that ‘Ethiopia is actually rather wonderful’ is not news and is therefore unlikely to get such widespread coverage.  He was having none of it.

A couple of days later, sitting in the dirt-floored courtyard of a backwater Ethiopian hotel watching the UK riots being broadcast directly onto the exterior wall of the building, surrounded by Ethiopians, I saw my country through the eyes of others.  It didn’t look pretty. 

The fire next to me provided warmth and light in a place where both were not freely available in any other form at night-time; the fire on the screen was raging in a city of plenty, bringing fear, chaos and destruction.  I was in a country where clothing is worn until it falls apart and is protective and practical above all else, where shoes are often a luxury that can’t be afforded and the notion of disposing of clothing simply because it’s ‘out of fashion’ is incomprehensible, watching designer-clad looters stealing trainers and clothes that they probably didn’t even have wardrobe space left for.  This was being broadcast onto the wall of a hotel because most Ethiopian homes have no television – imagine how preposterously greedy those thieves appeared, staggering under the weight of their stolen widescreen TVs.

During my month in Ethiopia last year I had many of my preconceptions challenged – about poverty, aid, and African politics amongst other things.  Some of this was a result of simply travelling the length of the country and seeing it with my own eyes but a much stronger influence on my current opinions are the conversations I had with the people I met, amongst them Ethiopians, fellow travellers and volunteers.  The ability of people from all educational, ethnic and economic backgrounds to articulate their experiences, views and visions of the future had a truly profound effect on me.  As I watched my countrymen babble incoherently through their hoodies and scarves as they tried to justify their burglary, arson, and wanton violence by blaming it on bankers / the Government / anyone else I felt something I’ve never felt before during my travels – shame. 

Needless to say, the clean-up stories which were such a feature of the reporting back in the UK didn’t find their way into Ethiopian towns with quite such strength and I found myself increasingly having to explain that not all British people were rioters and that actually most people were either unaffected by the violence or involved in repairing the damage.  Clearly ‘Britain is actually rather wonderful’ doesn’t make such a good story either!

Hopefully 2012 will be a year in which I continue to have the opportunity to be enlightened through travel to such surprising places and one in which none of our compatriots will behave in a manner which leaves the decent amongst us ashamed. 

May good people continue to explore, learn and debate and may bad people copy them instead of each other.

In Training – November / December

No, I haven’t gone quiet because I’ve stopped training!  I’ve been working hard for the last couple of months, building strength and endurance, and thought an update was in order.

December sees me aiming for 5 sessions a week of 45 minutes non-stop cardio and 4 ‘strength’ sessions a week (essentially, lots of sit-ups and press-ups).  Although the demands of the festive season mean that there are days where I genuinely do not have time to do this, I am generally staying on top of it.  I can maintain 6mph on the treadmill for 45 minutes at a gentle incline (not optional – my treadmill’s a bit broken and with no incline every step slams it into the floor so hard I worry I’ll end up in Australia) and do more sit-ups than I ever thought possible – the less said about press-ups, however, the better.  The main problem with 45 minute sessions is that I an episode of ‘The West Wing’ only lasts 40 minutes and that is what I entertain myself with!  Any recommendations for 45 minute programmes gratefully received as I’m now working through films instead!

I am singularly failing to do the uphill walking required, sadly.  Lincoln’s pretty flat so I’m frankly uninspired.  I realise that this is a poor excuse and I promise to get myself up some hills pronto.  This Christmas I’m heading down to Somerset for a week and there are some glorious hills down there that I may have a yomp up to work off some of my excessive and indulgent over-consumption.

Bit scared about what I need to start doing in January, but I’ll cross that rather hard-core bridge when I come to it.  Meanwhile – bring on the festive fayre; I’m working it off, dammit!

Cheesemonger

What follows is possibly the cheesiest assembly ever delivered.  As someone who's been teaching for a decade and is a big a fan of an extended metaphor (and who knows how much kids love to see pictures of their teachers looking crap) I thought my students might enjoy this.  It was presented to 250 year 11s - these are kids aged 15-16 who are a couple of months into their last year of compulsory education and facing pretty important exams next summer...

You guys are constantly being told how important this year is, and I suspect you often wonder how we can possibly understand what you're going through, bearing in mind how long it is since we were your age.  Well, two years ago I visited Tanzania and while I was there my friend and I decided that climbing Mount Kilimanjaro seemed like a good idea.  It's the highest mountain in Africa and the highest non-technical climb in the world.  The route we decided to take involves a week long trek of 100km, reaching the summit at 5895m, where each lungful contains only 50% of the oxygen of a lungful of air at sea level.  The training I had to do in order to successfully complete this challenge is not unlike the preparation you have to do for your GCSEs.

In preparation for a French speaking exam, you have to speak a lot of French.  In preparation for a Maths exam, you have to practise sums.  Well guess what, in my preparation for a really long walk, I had to walk a lot.

Walking in general is fine, but sometimes, preparation has to be specific.  Kilimanjaro has a snow-capped peak, so it was important to take the opportunity to walk in the snow.  Likewise, you should make your revision mimic exam conditions as much as possible.

Actually, only a small part of Kilimanjaro is snowy, so I had to think about the other parts of the challenge.  Kilimanjaro's in Africa so complete preparation also involved walking in Africa.  In the same way, you need to ensure that your exam preparation covers every element of the exam.

Do much more preparation than you think you need.

Rest and reward are important too!

It's important to know yourself.  I know that if I only have a long term goal I keep putting off preparation.  I responded to this self-knowledge by signing up for the Lincoln 10k in March - forcing me to get fit earlier than I otherwise would have.  Studies show that ongoing revision is more successful than intensive last-minute revision, so start early!  I tore two muscles in my leg whilst preparing for this, but I still did it.  As you can see, it hurt.  If you're going to be thoroughly prepared for something, you need to be OK with not looking cool!

If you're confident in your preparation, you should feel pretty cheery as you start your final challenge.

The first few papers should feel beautiful because you were so well prepared.

Don't forget to eat!

When you're on the exam treadmill it's easy to only see the negatives - like the fact that for a week up a mountain your only 'luxury' is a semi-closed shed with a hole in the floor - take a moment to find a way to find it beautiful. 

It often feels as though the end isn't getting any closer.  Deal with it.

Exam season is boring and monotonous.  Deal with it.

You're still not going to look cool.  Deal with it.

This was the view from our tent one night; it's a wall we knew we'd have to face in the morning.  Sometimes, you'll go to bed with a seemingly impossible task facing you when you wake up.

Ignore the big picture and focus on the small part that you actually need to conquer.

Even after many days, the end may seem no closer.  Deal with it.

The closer it gets to the end, the more rubbish it is.

The most painful bit is often the most worthwhile.

Look behind you every now and again in order to allow yourself to feel smug that your wonderful preparation is leaving people trailing in your wake.

Even the toughest situations can throw up unexpected moments of magic.

Even when it's all done, you still won't look cool.  Deal with it.

It might hurt a little bit.

Don't fail to appreciate your support network.  They won't expect any of the glory but you know you couldn't do it without them.  Realise this and say thank you.

It's all just for a certificate.  Literally.  Be proud.

Having achieved something you thought you'd never manage, suddenly anything seems possible.  I roller skated a marathon a week after reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro.  You will have A levels and you will KNOW that you can do them.

I am never going to need to climb a mountain.  You will probably never need a lot of the things your are examined on next summer.  However, the ability to prepare yourself to face challenges will be useful in all areas of your future - make the most of it.  I'm off to Everest next year - what will you do next?