“It’s Behind You!”

As we approach Christmas, cries of “it’s behind you” are ringing out again in theatres all across the country as pantomime season returns for the first time in 2 years because of the Covid pandemic.

The British pantomime tradition is one of pure escapism, with its colourful characters, song and dance, and jokes designed to make us groan.  Like marmite, you might love it or hate it depending on your tolerance for slapstick, pantomime dames and a loud, screaming audience.

Whatever your view, pantomime taps into deeply held emotions, to the human story.  In essence, it presents a tale of good winning out of evil, hope triumphing over adversity with a good bit of danger and despair thrown in along the way. It reflects life in exaggerated form, although not so exaggerated for some in our society.

So, what has this got to do with inequality?

Well, in the midst of the first Covid lockdown in spring 2020, I was on a Zoom board meeting with colleagues from Result CIC, a non-profit I advise that helps those marginalised in society to reach their potential.  We were talking about the impact of Covid – on ourselves, on the organisation and on society as a whole.  After some early media claims that Covid could be the ‘great leveller’ because a virus can infect anyone, the opposite was quickly, and unsurprisingly, becoming clear.  Covid was having a hugely disproportionate impact on the marginalised and excluded in our society; those at the heart of Result CIC’s work.  There was a greater need than ever for what Result CIC does.

At that meeting, I talked about a viral video I had seen on social media, The $100 Race. The video is far from perfect. It oversimplifies a complex set of issues in trying to explain inequality, privilege and class in under 5 minutes.  But its core message hit a chord with me.

The premise of the video is this. Many people start ahead of others in life, not because of anything they have done, their talents or the decisions they have made, but simply because of their personal circumstances, their background, the cards they were dealt.

In the same way, those who face extra obstacles to making progress in life, those who start from behind, aren’t typically in that position because of anything they have done, because of their own decisions or a lack of drive or talent.  They are there simply because of their personal circumstances, their background, the cards they were dealt too.  And those cards can relate to many things: ethnicity, disability, gender, sexuality, socio-economic background and more.

The video shows a diverse group of young people lined up in a field for a running race.  The runners are told that whoever crosses the line first will win $100.  But before the race begins, the organiser asks the participants to take 2 steps forward towards the finishing line if they meet certain criteria.  It’s two steps forward for someone who grew up in a family that didn’t have to worry about how bills would be paid. It’s another two steps forward for someone whose family never had to think about how they would put food on the table.  The list of circumstances that gives some runners two steps forward continues until, before the starter gun has even been fired, participants are spread right across the field. Some are almost at the finishing line before the race begins.

We see the expressions on the participants’ faces as they take in the situation.  Some at the front of the field show signs of embarrassment at their unmerited advantage in the race.  Some of those at the back exhibit understandable frustration and anger.  One or two turn away not wanting to participate at all.

The message of the video is clear.  As individuals and as a society, we can have a tendency not to think about those behind us.  Most often, we look towards those ahead in the race. We measure ourselves against those we judge to be more successful.  Whatever we achieve, we conclude that it’s entirely because of our own talents and efforts, not where we started in comparison to others.

I am certainly guilty of this, which is probably why the video struck such a chord with me.  There’s nothing wrong with aspiration, of course, having successful role models or challenging ourselves to do better.  Nor is there anything wrong with celebrating when we achieve something significant.  But in doing so, we can forget to look behind us to those who need extra support to succeed.

So, as we enter the pantomime season and hear those repeated cries of “it’s behind you”, let’s turn around and find out who is there.

Let’s do a bit less measuring of ourselves against those we think are more successful, who seem to have more than we do.

Let’s measure our success by what we have done to help those facing challenges and obstacles we don’t, by what we have done to help those feeling marginalised or excluded to overcome these hurdles and reach their full potential.

That’s what Result CIC has at the heart of its mission. It’s why I’m so proud of the work they do and of being able to play a small part in their efforts as one of their advisers.

Continue Reading“It’s Behind You!”

Putting One Foot in Front of the Other

“I’m thinking of going for a walk”, I said to my parents after dinner one evening in June, “from one end of the country to the other, to raise money for Alzheimer’s Research UK”.

“Oh,” came the slightly surprised reply. “This year?” mum asked, no doubt thinking summer was already upon us and wouldn’t last long. “Is there time before the weather turns?”

“Yes”, I replied, probably unconvincingly. “And I’m going to add in the three peaks too – Snowdon, Scafell Pike and Ben Nevis – to make the whole thing a bit more interesting and challenging, and a bit longer”.

“Oh, OK”, mum replied. “Alzheimer’s Research is a great cause”. 

A number of very reasonable questions followed. “How long will it take?”, “When will you start?”, “Wouldn’t next year be better?”

I didn’t have answers to these or many other questions. I’ve never been much of a planner. I prefer to just get on and do things. I don’t enjoy being constrained by having everything set out in advance. Spontaneity is much more appealing, if sometimes a little more stressful. I’d only started thinking about a possible walk a few weeks earlier, triggered by an idea from a friend which I’d initially dismissed as a crazy notion.

Part of me telling my parents about the walk was probably to vocalise the whole concept; to make it ‘real’. Once the idea was out in the open, I knew it would naturally gain momentum. If I say I’m going to do something, I usually do it. But if I don’t, ideas are easy to ignore or avoid completely, particularly if they are challenging. 

I did have to do some planning, of course.  Before I could start walking, I needed to get some new boots and a few other bits of essential hiking and camping equipment. I would need at least an outline of my route across the country too and an idea of how long the walk would take, so I could be confident of finishing before the winter. 

So, over the next 3-4 weeks, I set about organising myself.  I scoured the internet for tips on long distance walking, recommendations for equipment, and routes others had taken on similar treks. I battled against frustrating Brexit and Covid shortages of everything from camping gas to lightweight hiking gear. With most people planning staycations because of Covid travel restrictions, many things I needed simply weren’t available or took considerable effort to find. At times, I thought my mum might have been right; doing the walk in 2022 would have been a better idea to give me more time to prepare. But I wasn’t going to give up easily. The idea was now firmly fixed in my head.

I was asked more than once why I didn’t just cycle the route. Cycling is much more common way to do the ‘end to end’ challenge, not least because it takes much less time. But that didn’t really appeal. Cycling restricts you to roads and I wanted to see more of the countryside away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, not share the experience with other traffic. I was also looking for a bigger challenge, something that might ignite the imagination, be a little out of the ordinary and therefore raise more money for Alzheimer’s Research. So, a walk it was going to be.

I set off from Lizard Point in Cornwall, the southernmost place in Britain, just 4 weeks later in mid-July, with a goal of reaching Dunnet Head in Scotland, the most northern point on the mainland, 1400 miles away in about 3 months.  It felt like an enormous challenge in many ways, but at the same time almost impossible to grasp in its entirety. There’s a reason why we say ignorance is bliss.

Not surprisingly with such limited planning, I wasn’t as well prepared as I could have been. But at some point, in doing anything, you just have to call time and start, and deal with challenges when they arise along the way. I told myself that I was only going for a walk. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other. How hard could it be? I also tried hard not to think about the end, which could have been overwhelming given how far I had to walk. Instead, I did my best to live in the moment, focusing on no more than the day ahead. I didn’t always succeed, but I was quick to redirect my thoughts if I found myself dwelling on the end, not the immediate challenge ahead.

The first few weeks were pretty tough. The weather was unusually hot, my backpack felt uncomfortably heavy and I developed terrible blisters on both feet. On a few days in Devon, it took all my energy just to try to block out the pain. It felt like I was walking on shards of glass, cutting into my feet at every step. Starting walking again after a rest stop was agonising. I worried that I might be forced to stop. But I hobbled on, determined not to give in. Failure was not an option. I wasn’t going to let anyone down by not finishing the walk once I had started.

The landscape helped. Devon and Cornwall were idyllic in the summer sun. The clifftop views over clear, turquoise waters of the Atlantic were breathtaking. Purple heathers and other wild flowers carpeted the landscape in a shock of colour against a vivid blue sky. It was impossible not to be reinvigorated, and almost overwhelmed emotionally, by the beauty of the scenery. It boosted my morale even at the lowest points, driving me to carry on despite the discomfort.

As time went on, my blisters finally healed and I got used to the weight of my backpack. The annoying aches in my hips and knees faded away too. The challenge became one of endurance; to get up and walk every day, whatever the weather and despite the distance yet to cover. I found myself slipping into a routine of starting out early each day to get the miles done by mid afternoon, which then gave me a few hours to explore my destination or simply rest and recuperate. Eating became a major preoccupation too, just to take in enough calories to keep going when walking 40-50,000 steps a day. I became a walking, eating machine.

Messages of encouragement from family and friends helped keep me going, as did seeing money rolling in for Alzheimer’s Research. So many people I met along the way were incredibly kind too when they learned what I was doing despite being complete strangers. It was a welcome reminder of the fundamental goodness of the vast majority of people after all the division and polarisation of the last few years in Britain. Despite walking largely on my own, I never felt alone. In many ways, I felt more supported than ever before.

I found the simple act of walking to be powerful too. There’s something about being out in the fresh air with nothing to do other than walk to the next destination. Maybe it’s about having a clear goal, free from the interruptions of everyday life. Or maybe it’s about being more in touch with nature and the environment.  But I found putting one foot in front of the other to have an incredible meditative quality, helping order the thoughts and resolve issues that might be wearing on the mind. In many ways, the journey itself becomes everything, but also nothing, bringing a huge sense of calm and well-being.

After 74 days and almost 1400 miles, I finally reached Dunnet Head in early October. The weather, perhaps pointedly, turned as I approached the finish line. After a warm and sunny morning, I was greeted by strong winds and rain as I tried to take my last photos to capture the moment on the clifftop looking out to the Orkney Islands. It was wild and remote, with thundery rain showers blasting across the Pentland Firth. It felt like I had reached the end in the nick of time before winter set in. 

In less than 3 months, I had travelled across the whole country and raised almost £30,000 for Alzheimer’s Research by simply putting one foot in front of the other. I still find it quite hard to take in. But I ended the walk with a renewed belief after the disruption of the Covid pandemic that anything is possible with persistence and perseverance. 

Continue ReadingPutting One Foot in Front of the Other

The Start

Welcome, and thanks for coming to my new website. You will see from my homepage that I’ve recently taken quite a big step (a British under statement if there ever was one…) in leaving the British Foreign Service after more than 20 years. It wasn’t an easy decision after a fascinating career that’s taken me to Morocco, Poland, Iran and the US.  But it was time to do something different and open a new chapter.

My first focus is to write a book about the US, its mythology and what that might mean for Western democracy. As I do, I’ll post about some of the themes in the book, including the quirks of American democracy (both good and not so good), the challenges of maintaining the American dream and how the fates of the US and UK are uniquely intertwined, built on our shared history and our common interests and values.

I first came to America as a student 30 years ago and spent a semester on an English Speaking Union exchange programme at Robert Louis Stevenson School in Pebble Beach, California, a place that is still very close to my heart (check out the school’s website here). It was a life changing experience that certainly influenced my choice to join the foreign service to experience more of the world. Since then I have travelled to more than 40 states around the US both as a tourist and as Deputy British Ambassador over the last 5 years, visiting the UK’s network of consulates and offices in 13 locations around the country. I’ve worked with some fabulous Brits and Americans and learnt a great deal about how similar, and how different, we are. All great material for the book.

I will also post on two of my other passions: leadership and what I’ve learnt to date about inspiring and effective leaders; and encouraging people to contribute to their communities and societies. There will be some more personal stuff too, about the big transition I have chosen to make, taking tough decisions and adapting to a new life as a writer and freelancer.

So do come back to the site, follow me on Twitter and check out my LinkedIn profile – there are links on the website. And feel free to comment too.

Patrick

Continue ReadingThe Start