More than meets the eye

Diversity – and equality – is something I think about a lot. I am very biased, but I was fortunate enough to be raised by a brilliant feminist mother, who proudly sports a t-shirt proclaiming “This is what a feminist looks like”. As a result I developed a deep-set, unshakeable and core belief early on that there should be equality between men and women. And perhaps given I am also a woman, when I think about diversity and equality I tend to focus on gender.

Recently though I’ve been part of a few conversations about other kinds of diversity, parts of our identity that may not be visible to the eye but that can be just as important. Its been genuinely thought-provoking.

The first was centred around the concept of need. As I’ve mentioned on here many times, I’m a Trustee of an amazing charity Young Women’s Trust, which helps young women trapped in low or no pay. In the years I’ve been working with the charity I’m still struck by the number of young women we help who, on paper, don’t meet the traditional definition of being ‘needy’. They may well have a degree, come from lower middle income homes. But after graduation they find themselves unable to secure work, falling into a soul-destroying downwards cycle of weekly trips to the Job Centre, whilst claiming benefits and sending out countless C.V’s not to get even a single acknowledgement back. The repercussions on mental health, self-esteem and well-being are horrific.

I was moved to tears by a recent anonymous YWT case study by a woman who suffered awful childhood abuse, spent her teens battling depression, anxiety and self-harm, stuck on long waiting lists to get help. But she did well at school and then at university. In her own words:

“My academic record disguised the carnage that was my private life…I had a series of abusive relationships…violence and abuse had been part of my life for so long that I didn’t even recognise there was a problem.”

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‘I don’t think women fit comfortably into the board environment’… bullsh*t

I should start this blog by saying a bloody big bravo (or rather brava) to the Department of Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy for yesterday publishing a list of the worst explanations they received from FTSE 350 CEOs and Chairs for not having more women on their boards and calling bullsh*t on their excuses.

The gems that made the list included ‘I don’t think women fit comfortably into the board environment’,‘ we have one woman already on the board, so we are done – it is someone else’s turn’ and ‘the issues covered (by the board) are extremely complex’.

In case you were wondering whether we’d finally succeeded in time travel back to the dark ages, no, its still 2018. And yes, I did say FTSE 350 CEOs and Chairs. And no to the owner of the last comment, women’s brain are not hard wired to be less capable than men’s. My various WhatsApp groups and Twitter timeline were quite rightly full of rage, a proud, loud and well-justified ‘angry feminist’ response.

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Fall in love with a girl

When you commit to blogging every day for 100 days, it’s pretty bloody obvious when you fail! One thing I learnt this week is that even with the best of intentions, sometimes life gets in the way. This week was a multi-day away trip for work, with long days, friendly colleagues and lots and lots of sunshine (finally, just yay). I kept up a bunch of commitments but some things like blogging I’m afraid fell away. Now back at home, I have to say I missed it and some other elements of my usual daily routine. Without realising we can become little creatures of habit.

That said, a friend said to me tonight that as long as the important things stay true, there is no need to beat ourselves up about the ‘should’. After all we can’t change the past, but actions in the present matter. And in this case, words are action enough.

This week I did manage to devour Mary Beard’s latest book ‘Women and Power: A Manifesto. And I mean devour, on one not so long train ride. I actually had the happy fortune to meet Mary recently, unexpectedly at Houghton Hall in Norfolk visiting the Damien Hirst exhibition which she was filming for her new series of BBC’s Front Row Late. Just great. As is the book.

I have and always will classify myself as a feminist. My mother – who I affectionately christened my ‘trophy mother’ – was a staunch feminist who campaigned vigorously for equal rights, and very deliberately actually equal rights, including better paternity rights. I keep meaning to get myself a matching ‘this is what a feminist looks like’ top.

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Tonight my darling this is for you

For picking me up not once but twice this week, for your wise words, friendship, humour and all round brilliance. For reminding me what true good and kindness look like. For being the thing I was actually looking for, not the fake dopamine hit I thought I needed. And for the endless stream of compliments about my sexiness and brain and for also correcting my spelling mistakes.

You are a superstar and gem of a friend Rosie Luff AKA my pilot Luffstar. Here’s to many more years of basically being the same person and endless opportunities for me to impart birthday twin horoscope insight.

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