Poornima Manco

Author

communication

The ubiquity of abuse

by

I was having coffee with a bunch of ladies I didn’t really know. A common hobby had brought us together and as we met (some, for the first time) and chatted and ordered coffee and cake, the conversation veered off course as it inevitably does when you put women together. This wasn’t a business luncheon, it was very much a ‘getting to know you’ do. Our common hobby had brought us together, but we wanted to know if there was something else, beyond that, which could connect us.

As we talked backgrounds, languages, cultures, careers, husbands and children, we delved into each other’s lives, hesitantly at first, and then boldly, asking forthright questions and receiving some compelling and often hilarious answers. A sisterhood was emerging right there in that little coffee shop.

Interestingly, because we were, in effect, strangers to one another, there was a frankness and a candour to our conversation. There was no previous baggage nor was there any judgement. Each one was free to divulge as much or as little as they wished. Which is perhaps why some shocking truths emerged.

I have thought long and hard about writing this blog post. Am I betraying these ladies’ confidences if I do? Is this a kind of treachery to the very sisterhood I espouse? Am I worthy of being a confidante if I am unable to zip my lip?

However, upon reflection, I decided that yes, I would indeed write about it. No names or details of the women in question will be revealed here. That is not the purpose of this post. The purpose is to highlight the vulnerability of young children and how, it is so important for us as adults – parents and carers, to be vigilant about any possible signs and symptoms of abuse.

70% of the ladies at that table had been subject to some kind of sexual abuse as children. This ranged from an elderly relative using his trustworthy position in the family to inappropriately touch a child, to older children molesting a young girl in their midst, to a cousin leveraging his way into his sister’s affections to try and rape her.

Where were the adults when all this happened? Oblivious, too trusting or incapable of translating the traumatised child’s words and actions as a symptom of their ordeal.

Following on the heels of the #MeToo movement, the awareness of society’s ability to use and discard vulnerable adults has emerged strongly into the forefront. Yet, child abuse is so much more rampant and ubiquitous than anyone of us could have imagined.

All of these women were educated, erudite professionals who had carved out amazing careers and on the outside looked as put together as anyone else. Yet, fragments of their abusive past still lingered, making them feel ‘less than’ and handicapped in ways that even they could not articulate. If our pasts are the foundations to our future, it must have been doubly hard to build their future on the quicksands of trauma, betrayal and abuse.

I have spoken freely about the kind of sexual harassment I encountered growing up in India. Thankfully, because my mother was a very forward thinking individual, she was particularly circumspect about the adults who had access to me as a child. I had been told time and again to tell her if anything inappropriate was said or done to me. I was amongst the lucky few.

How many others had to stay ‘schtum’ because of the joint families they were growing up in wouldn’t tolerate any rent in its fabric, even if the casualty was a child’s innocence? How many parents believed that shrouding the truth or simply disbelieving the child were the only ways forward? How many ‘uncles’ or manservants got away scot-free because the ‘good name’ of the family was far more important than offering the victim love, support, understanding and challenging the perpetrator’s dirty deeds?

Too many.

Which is why it is so important that we talk about childhood sexual abuse. Children have nothing to be ashamed of. They are completely innocent of any wrong doing. It is the sick and depraved adults who choose and groom their victims alongside their families, that need to be brought to task.

I hope there comes a day when that coffee table conversation will not be limited to the tales of abuse suffered by young children, but will go on to elaborate the punishment society accorded to the abuser, and the counselling that was offered to the child to overcome that early trauma. As things stand right now, most children have to find their own coping mechanisms and unlike my ladies, can and do, spiral into self destructive behaviours.

I am not naive enough to believe that we will eradicate child sexual abuse completely. Wherever there is a power imbalance, abuse will exist and thrive. Sadly, there will also always be individuals with a sexual predilection for children. A multi-pronged approach that includes awareness, education, therapy, counselling, stricter laws and most importantly, a gradual erosion of patriarchy, may bring about the much needed change that will protect our children and ensure a safer future for them.

 

 

The trouble with Brexit – Johanna Brunt

by

It is the beginning of May, 2019 – nearly three years after the UK’s 2016 referendum, during which it decided to leave the European Union. Even at this late stage in the game, nobody knows if Brexit is going to be hard, soft or sunny side up – or whether it will even happen at all! The UK has just been given a Halloween extension, and some much-needed breathing space. The entire country is confused about backstops, trade deals and tariffs, and thoroughly fed up with the way everything has been handled in Westminster. It is high time for a progress report: how did we get here, and where do we go from now?

cherry-pie-2364372_960_720

  1. The Single Market and the Cherry Picking Myth

Brexit. A subject that has divided the country, parliament and political parties in the UK for three years now, and shows no signs of becoming any less polarising. With a difference of only 3.8%, the Leave campaign won the June 2016 referendum. Why did so many people think that Britain going its own way would be the best course of action?

There were two main reasons why people voted Leave in 2016. The first one was sovereignty. Many people were happy for the UK to cooperate with other European countries on trade and other issues, but they felt that over the years, the EU had grown too big for its boots. They were sick of being bossed around by unelected politicians in Brussels, and wanted to take back control.

The second biggest issue was immigration. A lot of British people didn’t like the European idea of unlimited Freedom of Movement. In their eyes, it meant that any Juan, Jan or Janusz could just enter the country, settle in, and undercut local workers or claim benefits.

So let’s have a look at this big European bully, that seems to feel entitled to impose its rules on the UK. What exactly is the European Union, what are the pros and cons of membership, and is leaving the EU the right thing to do for the UK?

The EU was originally set up with the aim of ending the frequent and bloody wars between neighbours, which culminated in WWII. It is based on the idea that when countries trade together, and have a close working relationship, they are less likely to wage war against each other. The founding values of the European Union still form the core of European policy: freedom, democracy, equality, the rule of law and respect for human rights.

Today, the EU is incredibly big and powerful – probably a lot bigger, and a lot more powerful than most people in the UK realise! It accounts for almost a quarter of the world’s GDP (23%), meaning that it is also very rich, compared to most of the rest of the world. In fact, out of 193 countries in the United Nations, only 35 are considered ‘advanced economies’ according to the IMF – and out of these 35 countries, 27 are inside the EU.

So how did the EU become so big, powerful and rich? The answer lies in just three little words: The Single Market. This is when things get pretty boring – but please bear with me, as it is absolutely central to the whole Brexit debate!

The Single Market is by far the biggest, and most advanced single trading area on the planet. It is an ongoing process of harmonisation and standardisation, designed to make it as easy as possible for people, goods, services and money to move around those countries that are a part of it: the 28 members of the EU, plus 4 non-EU countries: Norway, Iceland, Liechtenstein (EEA countries), and Switzerland. It does not only cover free trade, meaning that the countries within the Single Market don’t charge each other tariffs (import taxes). It also covers something much more advanced than that, and something that is quite unique: frictionless trade.

Frictionless trade means that countries within the Single Market have decided to not only eliminate tariffs and customs barriers between themselves. They have also made it as easy as possible to trade and allow free access to each other’s markets, by having the same standards and regulations for goods and services. That means the same safety regulations, environmentally friendly packaging, food labelling, consumer guarantees etc, to create a fair and level playing field between countries. Kind of as if the Single Market was a single country, really! This way, manufacturers don’t have to set up different production lines, to make different goods for different countries. Essentially, it gets rid of trade barriers and internal borders, making it easier for companies to operate internationally, and enlarge their markets.

Imagine, for instance, that you are a British manufacturer of hairdryers. If you want to sell those hairdryers to other countries, you would normally have to deal with different regulations that other countries have, because of their different legal systems. Spain may have certain laws regarding particular hairdryer components, or they may have completely different safety standards to the ones that you have in your country. And Austria, Malta and Sweden may also have slightly different rules and regulations. That would make cross-border trade much harder for you – those countries wouldn’t allow you to sell your hairdryers in their countries, because you don’t comply with their standards. Setting up different production lines for different countries you want to sell to would increase costs for you, leading to higher prices for your products, and reduced competitiveness. You would probably just end up staying in your own country, and lose out on the opportunity to become a big company that trades internationally.

The Single Market has removed those regulatory barriers by allowing frictionless trade between Single Market countries, both in goods and in services. Incidentally, services are things like banking, insurance and telecommunications which make up about 80% of the economy, so it’s quite important to the UK (fishing is less than 0.5%, by the way..). This way, it is now as easy for you to sell your hairdryers from London to Lisbon, as it is to sell them from London to Leeds.

You may ask yourself: “That’s all very nice, but that’s all about trade and stuff. How does that affect me?” Well, having a healthy economy means high employment (jobs), more people spending their well-earned money and keeping the economy going, and more money for the government’s coffers. Companies have to pay corporation taxes, its workers pay National Insurance Contributions and income taxes, and all of that money goes into HMRC. With that pot of money, governments can then pay for schools, hospitals, housing, the police and other public services. It’s a win-win situation, because your country has high employment and more money to spend. Membership of the EU and the Single Market has undoubtedly been of great benefit for the UK, which used to be known as the ‘sick man of Europe’ in the 1960’s. In fact, it has been so successful that it has made the UK the fifth biggest economy in the entire world (although it dropped to sixth soon after the 2016 referendum).

In order to prevent the member states from engaging in unfair competition, and to keep a level playing field, the Single Market also involves countries having certain baseline standards regarding workers’ rights, health and safety regulations, consumer protections, environmental rules, food and animal welfare standards etc. A great number of these kinds of regulations and laws have been written by the UK, which is seen as one of the ‘Big Three’: the three largest and most important countries within the EU (along with Germany and France).

The famous European CE mark, for example, originated from the old British Kitemark. If you see it on a toy that you bought for your children, you can be confident that it is not going to have any tiny components that your baby may choke on, or that he or she is not going to get ill because the toy is covered in toxic paint. All countries within the Single Market have agreed that they will not compete with each other by trying to lower basic standards that exist to protect workers, consumers and the environment, and that they certainly won’t try to get rid of them altogether.

Some of these regulatory rules and standards apply to more than just the 28 EU countries plus those 4 non-EU countries. The Single Market has essentially turned the EU into a huge global powerhouse – one that negotiates its own trade deals with other countries and trading blocs, on behalf of its member states. As an EU member, the UK is part of about 40 trade agreements that the EU has with about 70 other countries, which have taken decades to negotiate. And because it is so big and powerful, the EU has a lot of clout. For instance, if you now buy a toy from China it will have to have a CE mark on it, because the EU has forced China to comply with European safety standards – thus protecting European consumers.

Having these basic common standards is also good news for ordinary citizens, as many EU laws protect them from being exploited by unscrupulous employers. For instance, it means that you can’t be forced to work more than 48 hours a week – you can if you want to, but your employer can’t sack you if you don’t. Things like paid holidays, a ban on age discrimination, LGBT rights, paid maternity leave etc are also enshrined in EU law. It is therefore no coincidence that pretty much all UK unions, as well as the vast majority of economists, campaigned against Brexit during the 2016 referendum campaign.

As you can imagine, the EU has been very keen to protect the integrity of the Single Market during the Brexit negotiations. This consist of four pillars, also known as the ‘four freedoms’:

  1. Freedom of goods
  2. Freedom of services
  3. Freedom of capital (money)
  4. Freedom of people (labour)

EU negotiators set out their strategy from the beginning, and they have been very clear all along: “Anything can be discussed, but we can’t separate these four freedoms, that the success of our Single Market is based on.”

Unfortunately though, the UK spent the next few years trying to cherry-pick bits out of the Single Market cake. Take the Chequers proposal: “We’ll have that freedom of goods part, thank you very much – but you can keep the freedom of movement part that we don’t want.” When the EU explained that you’re either in the Single Market or you’re out of it, and you can’t have it both ways, the UK press were outraged: how dare the EU humiliate our prime minister by refusing our cherry-picking proposals? Surely they should give us what we want?

This rather one-sided British point of view shows a really basic misunderstanding about the importance of the Single Market to the EU, and its role in the prosperity of all EU countries. The EU sticking to its guns is not about it being vindictive, or about punishing the UK. It is about the EU being strong and stable. Its main aim is, of course, to protect the interests of its 27 remaining member states, not that of 1 soon-to-be ex-member. After all, there is not a single organisation in the world that will give better terms to non-members than to members. So why would it be reasonable to expect the EU to change a winning formula, that has taken decades to develop?

When you look back at old footage of pro-Brexit politicians being interviewed before the referendum, you notice how many of them expected the EU to cave in to the UK’s demands. They talk about the UK wanting complete and full access to the Single Market after Brexit, without it having to adhere to the rules on its four freedoms – particularly the freedom of movement part. Or they talk about keeping access to ‘a’ Single Market, rather than ‘the’ Single Market (as if there are two).

It took a little while before it dawned on these Brexiteers that they couldn’t have their cake and eat it. That that unspecified, magical ‘deal’ that they had promised their voters was, in fact, unavailable – and that it had never existed in the first place. It is as if they had decided to cancel their Netflix subscription, but were then completely taken by surprise when they switched on the tv on a Saturday night, and couldn’t watch any movies anymore. And what’s more: they had a go at a rather baffled Netflix afterwards – an organisation that had always been quite clear about its rules.

So where does this odd mix of pie-in-the-sky thinking (“the German car industry will give in to our demands because we are too important to them; we hold all the cards”), victim mentality (“the bullies in the EU want to punish us”) and anti-EU hostility (“it is an elite conspiracy against the public”) come from? And how did we get to a situation where so many British people genuinely believe that the EU is evil, vindictive, and out to get them? Look no further than the British media, and several decades of Project Fear. More of that coming up next week, in part 2.

IMG_0848

Johanna Brunt was born and raised in The Netherlands. She has spent half her life there on the continent, and half her life in the UK. After studying English and European Studies at the University of Amsterdam, she moved to London where she started working for an international airline. She is married to a Brit, and they have three children together.

My rendezvous with God’s angels – Diya Sarkar

by

It was just another boring Monday after an exciting weekend. My husband was at the office and my children at their respective hostels. I had nothing constructive to do as usual, except for supervising the daily household chores being done by my maid, when suddenly I came across  ‘Teach For Change’ on Facebook, an NGO engaged in teaching  underprivileged children. I had plenty of spare time and so I thought of killing some.

I was super excited to get out of the house for a couple hours regularly on a weekday, for a change. But nothing seemed to work in my favour. I complained about the weather, about the traditional dress which I chose to wear and yes, waking up early was not my cup of tea. Well, my list of my grudges never saw a full stop.

As my car approached the gates of the government school, I saw from the tinted glasses, tiny feet walking in a line on a not so smooth road; crossing crowded streets, holding hands, each one taking care of his or her partner.

Most of them, unlike our children, could not afford to hire a cab or for that matter, a bus. Most of their parents did not own vehicles. So, they needed to walk miles before they reached their school whether it was sunny, rainy, cloudy or otherwise. But they did not complain.

School shoes were an item of luxury for the majority. They came to school wearing slippers. Perhaps that was their only footwear for walking, running and playing. But they did not complain.

I reached their classroom and there wasn’t a single fan. It was a hot summer afternoon. They were sweating, yet they wore a beautiful smile. They were still not complaining.

They were thirsty and their bottles were empty. Water was rare and precious for them. They had days and specific timings when the water supply came through the taps at their homes. So, after taking my permission, they went, one at a time, to the water cooler at the school, to fill up their bottles. They seemed happy and they weren’t complaining.

I can never forget the first time I stepped into their classroom. They were holding my hands and hugging me. They wanted a secure future, a smooth life, water running through their taps, a good pair of shoes, nutritious food and somehow, they found hope in me. Their eyes were twinkling with curiosity. There was an urge to learn something new, something that would iron out those wrinkles from their road to success. At such a tender age, they had already seen enough … poverty, malnourishment, domestic abuse,  parents separated, being orphaned, beatings on a regular basis, child labour… you name it and they had experienced it.

The bell rang and my class was over. It was their lunchtime. In fact, they came to school for that midday meal. Many of them were hungry since the morning. Still, no complaints. Instead, to my surprise, there were so eager to help me to arrange my things, carry my bag, open the door for me and so on. They were all excited to know more about me and my next visit to their school. As I climbed down the stairs, they joined me. They were waving at me when I walked out of the school gate. “Bye Didi (that is how we refer to an elder sister in India) are you coming tomorrow?” was still ringing in my ears.

No amount of shopping, fine dining, catching up with friends or even holidaying had ever given me the pure joy and happiness that was offered by these God’s Angels.

The bitter experiences, harshness, difficulties, insecurities which life had in store for them had failed to erase the twinkle from their eyes, the smile from their lips or the love from their hearts. Not even their hungry stomachs or the uneven ground on which they were standing upon, could stop them from waving and smiling at me.

Days have turned into months and I am, once again, getting ready to go to school. I’m all excited to teach my students so that I can empower them with education, so that they are not at the mercy of someone, so that they don’t have to use secondhand stuff given to their elders by households like yours and mine. And yes, the weather or that traditional dress don’t bother me anymore. My list of grudges have also reduced considerably. There is something bigger than these irrelevant complaints of mine. The trust which they have invested in me, without an iota of doubt, which, in turn, has brought about the most precious bonding with these little souls. Alongside I have also learnt some valuable lessons for life – to remain humble and evolving.

God bless them, God’s Angels in disguise.

Diya pic 2

Hello, this is Diya Sarkar from Delhi, India. I presently reside in Hyderabad, city of pearls, Nizams and biryanis.

After completing my Masters in Journalism and Communication, I worked as a freelancer at ‘The Indian Express’, an Indian news media publishing company. 

I am married with twins, a son and a daughter, who share their birthday with their father, who is also a twin. I have been a part time teacher in a couple of schools… in fact, a teacher to my children, both at school and at home. Now, I love teaching underprivileged children at a Government school. There is so much to learn from each one of them.

I am an avid traveller and have been on the move since my childhood, exploring different parts of the country, the cuisine, culture, landscape etc. In fact, unity in diversity is what defines India in one line. 

I like reading, writing, cooking, shopping for traditional items or garments, and also have an interest in interior decoration and flower arrangement. I am planning to blog in the near future too. Thank you. 😊

My unlikely journey to fatherhood – André Hellström

by

I started having the first stirrings of the paternal instinct when I was volunteering, taking care of a 10 year old boy with autism, through the National Autistic Society. I saw ‘Joel’ once a week for two years and although he had difficulties building relationships with others, we connected very well. Being with Joel, I realised I wanted to be a dad.

I can only compare the paternal instinct with the feelings of realising that I was gay- they are very strong and there is no going back.

I believe one of the most important things in life is to help others, so helping a loving lesbian couple wanting a family became very important to me. I was reluctant to donate to a sperm bank as donating to a sperm bank is anonymous and I’ve always been adamant that a child needs to know where he/she is coming from. I was also very close to my grandmother, she was my everything and I wanted her legacy to live through me. I found a lesbian couple from a website called Pride Angel where female couples are looking for donors. I knew straight away that they were the mums I was looking for. We bonded very quickly but it was still a long journey towards building trust. After all, we were about to create another human being.

I tried getting both mums pregnant through artificial insemination. One mum got pregnant after four tries. The following nine months waiting for the baby felt like nine years! It was endless! And full of worries! I was worried that the baby wouldn’t survive. I was worried that our child would be bullied and resent us for putting him or her into this kind of family. Now, looking back at some of those worries, I feel silly. I worried too much. We live in multi cultural London and what’s a ‘normal’ family today anyway? Our baby was planned and with so much love and trust behind it.

Nevertheless, a lot of thoughts went through my mind and I felt very lonely during the pregnancy. The mums had each other but not many of my gay friends could relate to my paternal instincts. I had no one to talk to when I was worried, or overwhelmingly excited about having a child! But I did talk to the mums a lot. In fact, we cried and laughed with happiness during the whole pregnancy. As the belly grew, the more we understood the magnitude of what we had done! Of course, ALL children are small miracles but somehow we selfishly felt that our baby was just a tad more special…

Our son Enzo was born in the year 2014. The mums sent me a photo of them holding our newborn son and I felt beyond happy! And the relief. I was relieved that Enzo was healthy, I was relieved (and proud) that I had pursued my dream of wanting to help a lesbian couple in having a child. It had taken four years from my initial feeling of wanting to be a dad until Enzo was born. I felt a sense of inner peace, like a puzzle had been finished. By helping others, we also help ourselves.

After Enzo’s birth, it was going to take about two weeks to organise the birth certificate. Our agreement was that the mothers would be on the birth certificate but during the first two weeks there was a possibility that I could change my mind… By not being on the birth certificate, I would, as a consequence, lose all legal rights to my own son… The mothers knew I could change my mind so we had initially agreed that I wouldn’t see Enzo the first two weeks. However, as we had grown so close during the pregnancy, the new mums couldn’t wait for me to see him and to be honest, it would’ve been torture not to. So the next day I went to their home.

Therese was sleeping on the bed holding Enzo, both exhausted after the birth. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I’m not religious but this was somehow a religious experience. I can’t really describe it but I’m sure I felt the presence of my grandmother there. Therese woke up and handed Enzo to me saying ‘Please hold your son’. Remember again that she knew that I could change my mind, so really, she was playing with fire. I actually didn’t want to hold him at first because I was terrified that my heart would break handing him back to Hilda and Therese.

Therese sensed my worry and she simply said ‘You will be OK André’, so I took Enzo in my arms and just like that, I felt like I had been a father all my life! Enzo grabbed my finger and although a baby can’t see, he did somehow react to my presence. It was an instant bond. After a few hours I left their house and believe me, this was the time when my human instincts played with me. It was as if my entire being knew Enzo was my son and wanted to go back to him. Even more interesting considering I’m gay, I felt very protective about Therese, the birthmother. The immense love I felt for her was so strong. I felt like a lion king! Having said that, I never want to downplay the love I have for Hilda but at that very moment, my focus was on Therese and Enzo.

Having no say in the upbringing of my own child isn’t an easy thing to live with. But when it’s hard, I just focus on why I did it; to help a couple in love to have a family. Legally Hilda and Therese are parents to Enzo. My son will, however, call me daddy and will always know I’m his dad. Nonetheless my role is more like an uncle who is there to provide the love, but has no say in the rules.

This can prove difficult as, although I am not a  part of bringing Enzo up, I still have to love my son unconditionally for the rest of my life – even if he turns out to be a spoiled brat! And yes, the mothers do spoil him while I definitely would be more strict. I bite my tongue a lot. I have voiced my opinion two to three times when I just didn’t feel comfortable with the whole situation. Telling a parent how to raise their kids is not something I recommend, especially when it comes from a very direct person like me… But the mothers ‘get me’ and understand my directness and sometimes, bluntness. I don’t mean any harm, it is just how I’m wired.

Thankfully I have learned to choose my battles, both in my role as a ‘donor daddy’ and in my ‘outside life’. I think all parents learn to choose their battles, otherwise parenthood would be too exhausting. Being a dad changed my life for the better. Having said that, being a full time dad wouldn’t be for me, as selfish as that might sound. What’s important to say is, that all human beings are on a journey through life, we all have our ups and downs and although becoming a dad made me feel complete, it doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Just as I tell other gays that want to become fathers, being a ‘donor dad’ is not for everyone. I followed my heart and what felt good to me. I will never tell anyone else what’s right for them.

The mothers, who initially just wanted a donor and not an involved donor chose a more difficult path. Let’s face it, having me in their life does make things slightly more complicated. They do have to see me and include me in big holidays etc. And for that reason alone I love the mothers so much. All three of us are in this journey together.

Enzo is a copy of me, it’s as if my DNA has gone straight down to him. But this helps the mothers, and me, to understand him more. One example, Enzo is not very good in groups. He’s very independent and sometimes even quite selfish… He hates sharing. So in the nursery when all kids sit in a circle singing songs, he’s not the slightest bit interested. I was there in the nursery once and saw this. I was a quite upset that he didn’t want to join the group and socialise. I could see the teachers trying to include him but his stubbornness wouldn’t have it. Suddenly it was like a ‘deja vu’ from my own childhood, I was exactly the same! So being a dad sure brings up memories from my own time as a kid that I had forgotten about.

In 2016 our second son Levi was born. To have TWO sons was more than I could ever have dreamt of. Enzo being Enzo wasn’t as excited as he sure didn’t like the competition. It didn’t help that Levi had colic for 3 months. The family’s life was pretty much turned upside down with a constantly screaming baby for that long.

I’m not sure I should even mention this but I will since it’s quite a ‘taboo’ subject. When Levi was born I didn’t bond with him in the same way. Yes, once again I felt like a lion king but I somehow didn’t feel the same immense connection with him. It made me feel very very guilty. I loved Enzo so much and didn’t think there was room for more love. But then my stepmom said something beautiful, ‘It’s not like you have to fit more love, it’s as if another room opens that you can fill with love’. That stayed with me, and it’s so true. I do love Levi so so much but I have to admit, even though he’s 2.5 years old now, he still doesn’t adore me in the same way as Enzo has always done. I, of course, do love them both equally, but Enzo feels very close to me.

I certainly don’t want to favour one of them over the other. That would make me a terrible dad! As time goes on, I’m learning how to handle my feelings. There’s no ‘manual’  on how to be a ‘donor dad’ and as mentioned before, I can feel quite lonely in my situation since most of my friends, and even some family members, show no interest whatsoever. That, in itself, hurts tremendously but this is ultimately MY journey and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Being a donor dad was MY choice and I love it.

Life is all about choices and whatever we choose, let us choose well…

 

52115631_690960374635118_4808886345151807488_n

 

My name is André and I was born in Sweden. When I was five years old my mum took me to the island of Crete in Greece. I remember seeing the Boeing 737 knowing from that day that I was going to work on an airplane. It was my driving force throughout my whole childhood, I couldn’t wait to get out and see the world! After college I worked as a holiday rep all over Europe and then I worked as a concierge on a top rated cruise line. On board Crystal Harmony I saw the whole world and although it was hard work, I sure lived my dream. 1997 I felt it was time to change the ocean for the air and I was hired by United Airlines. It might not have the glamour it had when I flew to Crete in 1974 but even after 22 years as a flight attendant, I still get a buzz during every take off- I truly love my job and the airline industry! I use the time off and flexibility to challenge myself outside work and I do that by travelling or doing volunteer work. I love living in London. It’s like living in the centre of the world, I love the mix of different nationalities and religions. This city surely has been very good to me.

Guest blog month

by

I find people endlessly fascinating. Perhaps, that is why my stories centre around people, their motivations and compulsions. However, one does not always need fiction to experience alternate realities. Another person’s life: his journey, her passion, his hobbies, her escape, are all equally intriguing and provide enough fodder for the imagination.

In the spirit of that sentiment, I once again give my blog over to some very engaging people and their stories. The next few weeks will hopefully bring you some interesting insights into what constitutes an alternate lifestyle, being true to oneself and one’s passions, and how sometimes, the only journey one needs to undertake is the one that reconnects you to yourself.

As a blogger, I am always happy to be approached to showcase another person’s work. If you are a blogger who would like a slightly different audience for a change, or if you just like penning random musings, or if you feel strongly about something and need a platform to voice those thoughts, feel free to reach out to me with a sample of your writing, and maybe I could include you in future guest blog months. Comment below with your details and I will get back to you.

I truly believe that the writing community needs to be supportive and nurturing of one another. Our stories may be universal, but our experiences are deeply personal. In sharing them with our readers we attempt to create a bridge of understanding. However, in sharing them amongst ourselves and on our multiple and varied platforms, we start to understand the nuances and subtleties of that which is removed from our own actuality. In our myriad life realities, there is above all, a desire to understand and be understood.

I hope that the stories and articles that follow will take you on their unique journeys and you will come away with a renewed understanding and empathy for your fellow being.

 

Schadenfreude

by

The German language has some interesting words, none more so (IMHO) than schadenfreude. There is no English equivalent for it, as far as I am aware. Loosely translated, schadenfreude means deriving joy from another’s misfortune. Something, I’m fairly certain, we have all been guilty of in our lives.

Now, whether this comes from a place of spite or meanness, or whether it’s just the human need for seeing people cut down to size, I think we would all agree, it’s not a pleasant emotion. I struggle with it and often admonish myself when I find myself revelling in someone else’s (deserved or undeserved) misery.

So, imagine my surprise, when I came across people who consciously practiced schadenfreude with impunity.

Long story short- a group of us were participating in a much anticipated reunion. We had a Whatsapp group for planning the details, and as much of these things are wont to do, it also became a place to exchange pleasantries, jokes, random comments, wardrobe planning and other sundries. There was excitement in the build up, and as the date approached and newer members were added, a lot of good natured bonhomie and a genuine pleasure to be reconnecting with old friends.

In the midst of all of this, were a couple of individuals who insisted on not just lowering the tone, but also, consciously, even cruelly, denigrating others and their motives. Every comment was suspect, every emotion fraudulent and everyone the butt of their tasteless jokes. Time and again, they were warned off but they persisted in the belief that they were stripping back the fripperies to reveal the naked truth (that being, that at the heart of it all, we really despised each other and all this love we were displaying was just a show). All they ended up revealing was their own inability to partake in joy.

So, why did they insist on attributing ulterior motives to everything? And why did they derive such joy from our often justified anger and impatience with their pessimistic outlook?

Schadenfreude.

At the very core of this word lie our own insecurities. When we are pleased at someone else’s failure, when we enjoy raining on someone else’s parade, when we can only extract pleasure out of someone else’s displeasure, what does that say about us?

Perhaps there is a lesson in this for everyone. Schadenfreude may be an emotion that arises unwittingly, even unconsciously, within us. But maybe, the nicer, the more humane thing to do, would be to consciously replace it with empathy.

After all, no one heals themselves by wounding another (St. Ambrose).