Host: Jen Ang

Davie Donaldson

“So what I would tell a younger version of myself is what you’re seeing around you right now doesn’t have to be that way.”

Satwat Rehman

“Just be true to yourself in what you’re doing, you know, don’t be shaken from that. And be happy in what you do. Yeah, because we don’t struggle for the sake of struggle. We struggle for the sake of everybody having a better life, you know, and so that can’t just be about work and activism. We have to remember what it is we’re fighting for.”

Background music lyrics

“We’re musicians in exile and this is the song of hope saying…”

Jen Ang

Hey, everyone, welcome back – after a bit of a wee break, let’s call this a winter hibernation – to the Lawmanity podcast. 

This week we’re marking the start of the new Lunar Year, the Year of the Fire Horse, as well as the start of Ramadan and of the Lenten season for those of you who celebrate it. For all of these great world traditions, the start of these periods mark a time for reflection, for reconnection and for renewal. We draw close to the people who are important to us. We evaluate the year gone past. We tell our stories, share our wisdoms, recommit to our values and prepare ourselves for the year coming. 
I love these traditions. And in this cycle of human history, these dates also fall near the start of spring in the northern hemisphere: when the cold eases, the days start to lengthen, and we’re greeted by the earliest flowers – in my garden, snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils. 

This year’s resolution for me and with the Lawmanity Project is to sow radical seeds – meaning to dedicate the year to supporting small actions that could lead to radically different futures for someone, somewhere, someday, every single day. And today, my offering to you listeners, with unending gratitude to the activists and friends who helped me to put this together, is an episode titled “Advice to My Younger Self”. 

In today’s episode, we get to hear from a wide range of people who have dedicated their lives to challenging inequality and pursuing justice for others. And I asked them each this simple question: what advice would you give your younger self? Someone just like you, or perhaps someone who wants to be you. I found inspiration, laughter and a great deal of wisdom in their responses, and this is my very favourite episode to date. I hope you enjoy this as much as we have in putting together the show for you. 

Let’s kick off with Davie Donaldson. Davie is a leading Travellers’ rights activist based in Scotland and started his career early at the age of 15, speaking out about the injustices faced by himself and his community – navigating a social, economic and legal landscape that was built for settled people and not in the interests of travelling people.

Davie Donaldson

An activist who I look up to in the civil rights movement is Harry Belafonte, right? And he’s famously quoted as saying, “I became an activist because I grew up in poverty,” right? And I think for me, that is a situation… I never chose to be an activist or a campaign or an advocate or whatever title I place on whatever it is that I do, right? But I grew up as a gypsy traveller in Scotland, and I think, by that experience, I recognised that something needed to change so that the next generation didn’t grow up in the way that I did, right? 

So I think for anyone out there who is thinking about becoming a human rights defender or, you know, whether that be at the grassroots level as a community campaigner, as an advocate, as a human rights lawyer even, and, you know, moving into the legal profession, I think do it, right? If you’ve got that calling in you, then there’s something in your lived experience which recognises injustice as injustice, right? And that’s, that’s the basic point of it. You know, you don’t need a particular degree – or you will if you want to be a lawyer, right? But in order to actually campaign on these things, I think it’s important to just have that base level of, here’s where I’m starting from, here’s what injustice looks like and here’s how it needs to change. And that basic human relationship with justice is something which we can all tap into, whether or not we’re legally trained. 

So what I would tell a younger version of myself is: what you’re seeing around you right now doesn’t have to be that way, right? It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t need to experience the evictions that you’ve experienced. You don’t need to experience the hate, the discrimination, the… the barriers to your culture, to accessing the voices of your ancestors. You don’t need to experience that. And you have the tools, everyone does, in order to move forward and to change that for the next generation and for yourself. You know, let’s… let’s move into a place where we’re not just thinking about fifty, sixty, you know, hundred years, potentially down the line, you know, and the descendants to come. 

Oftentimes indigenous communities, we fall into that perspective of, yeah, we’re doing this for the future. And it’s this quite indistinguishable, ungraspable future, right? Let’s do it for ourselves. You know, why can’t things change now? Why can’t we lead dialogue and conversation which can impact our communities and our families now? And why do we have to face these indignities and sacrifice our own sense of belonging, our own sense of justice, in order for the future? We shouldn’t have to sacrifice that. Let’s claim justice today and make sure that we ourselves can also experience what we believe justice should look like.

Jen Ang

So inspiring and so right. But what advice do our activists have for those of us who know that challenging injustice is important to us, but don’t know how to get started? 
Sandy Brindley, chief executive of Scottish Rape Crisis, reminds us how frontline community activism, including volunteering, can make such a difference, not just to the communities we serve, but also to ourselves.

Sandy Brindley

I think in many ways I’ve been really fortunate about finding a passion. Like not, not many people have a job that they believe in so deeply where you feel like you are able to progress change as part of your job. So I think it is about finding your passion and what you believe in and trying to find a role that’s consistent with your values and with your passion. 

In terms of becoming involved in Rape Crisis, like one of the best ways of becoming involved – and this is not accessible to everybody but – is volunteering, that’s how I started. I started as a volunteer in the helpline. That has been so invaluable to me, that experience, I did that for a number of years. Just that is where you learn, is you learn from speaking directly to survivors. I believe really strongly that’s how legal strategy and policy has to work, is if it’s directly informed by survivors voices. So if this is the work you want to do, your starting point for me is supporting and listening to survivors. And then, I think that then gives you the answers to what needs to happen, which then I think informs your trajectory of how you want to change the world, really.

Jen Ang

Great. But what if you don’t know where exactly your passion lies? Here’s some advice from Talat Yaqoob. Talat is a Scottish political commentator, feminist campaigner and co-Chair of the First Minister’s National Advisory Council for Women and Girls. Her top tip? Stay open to unlikely opportunities.

Talat Yaqoob

Okay, so the somewhat facetious response is sunscreen and moisturiser – and I do wish I had gone back and said that to myself. 

I think, what’s really interesting is that this is not a… I didn’t know this was a career. At no point did I think this was a career. If I was to follow what it was that I thought I’d be doing at the age of 18, I should be a clinical psychologist right now. And so I guess the advice would be if an opportunity presents itself and it lights something, even if it’s not on the plan, do it. Because I very, very easily, and very closely didn’t do it because I was like, well, I’ve got a five-year plan and I meant to go and do a master’s and then I meant to go and become a clinical psychologist and I meant to do my doctorate and… and I, I almost didn’t do it, but then, you know, at university I realised that actually, hold on, my politics has been given an outlet and there are these really great people that I’m able to have conversations with and we’re debating and nobody’s telling me shush, like, like they do at the dinner table at home. Like it’s not. And, and had I not taken that opportunity, that feels kind of exciting but isn’t in the plan, isn’t the status quo, nobody before me has done it… I wouldn’t get to do what I do now. And as hard as it is and sometimes as upsetting as it is, I wouldn’t want to be anybody else, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else. 

So even if it’s not on the plan, it’s not in the five-year plan or the ten-year plan – and if you’re, you’re like me, you probably have one – if it feels good and it feels exciting, give it a try. Especially if it maybe is a little bit uncomfortable. I would advocate for that because 100% I would not be doing anything that I did if I didn’t go to become, ah, my student union and suddenly get involved and find really awesome people and then suddenly get involved in other campaigns and yeah, give it a try. Even if it’s temporary, it’s something worth learning.

Jen Ang

And once you’ve taken that unlikely opportunity, gotten yourself a seat at the table, then what? 

Let’s hear from one of my very favourite people in the world, Andy Sirel: partner and legal director at the charity Just Right Scotland, and my colleague for many years. 
Andy is a legal expert on human rights, children’s rights and migrants’ rights and has led groundbreaking litigation and campaigns in all these areas. 

I first met Andy when he was himself a young activist and lawyer, and his advice here rings true to how he has grown and shaped a very successful career in law and human rights.

Andy Sirel

You need to be positive. You need to look for opportunities where other people see negatives. And I think that is something that not everyone’s able to do, but we can if we try. 

And, if I’m honest with you, you need to treat everybody, regardless of who they are, regardless of status or position or seniority or age or anything, you need to treat everybody the same with dignity, courtesy, interest. And not only by doing that do you learn a lot, you obtain people’s trust and you’re honest and then doors open and opportunities present themselves. But only by doing that do you get their trust. And that is actually, you know, things go from there. So those are the sort of very simple pieces of advice I would give.

Jen Ang

And what if you’re in the room, have something to say and you start feeling the fear?
Let’s hear next from Lily Greenan. Lily’s career in Scotland has encompassed feminist activism in the violence against women and girls movements. And from 2006 to 2015 she was the chief executive of Scottish Women’s Aid. 

In her early career, along with other lesbian and gay rights activists, she also led opposition to Margaret Thatcher’s anti-gay Section 28 law. Towards the end of this quote, she mentions Lark in the Park, which was the first major public gay rights event in Scotland, taking place on 28th May 1988 in Edinburgh. 

Here’s Lily on her advice to young activists.

Lily Greenan

I think advice from my younger self would be be less afraid. Yeah, I was anxious 20-year-old, for lots of reasons. And since then… I didn’t grow up in a religious household, but I heard someone who was Quaker talking about the feeling of being moved to speak in worship, in a meeting for worship, which is a silent meeting unless someone feels moved to speak. And someone who I knew well described it. And I thought: oh, I, I know that feeling. And it’s that I was anxious and worried about doing the wrong thing in whatever context, socially and academically and like whatever, I worried about doing things wrong. And I would still be a bit plagued by that after I got involved with Rape Crisis, and other sort of bits of activism. So what would happen is that I would be really wound up, really anxious and then I would just have to speak. And my back used to spasm. It was that extreme. Like I would stand up and speak and when I sat down my back would be in spasm because I was so wound up. 

And I think I would love it if younger people coming into this kind of work, could learn ways to be more relaxed about it, because it really wasn’t that big a deal, most of the time. I think it held me back from doing maybe more than I did and, you know, and I got past it, but it took a while. 

And the other is write stuff down. I’m sitting in my attic office at home, looking at the archive boxes that I have to sort. I’ve been keeping… I wouldn’t call it a diary – I keep notes at meetings, I take notes at meetings. It’s partly because I’ve always had a bit of a shit memory, so I needed to be able to remind myself what. And what I have realised over the last few years is that I can go back and find the notes from that meeting in 2010 and, you know, something will happen. It allows me to connect the dots. If I need to, I can go back and check, you know, like, that’s there. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them because there’s quite a lot of notebooks. But they’re a useful personal archive and a resource about how the different areas of the work connect up. Because they’re not just about, they’re not just notes I took in meetings I was being paid to attend. I’ve been doing it, you know, sort of since the early 80s. And, yeah, or find, find some way to, to document what you’re doing and to be able to go back now and again and remind yourself that you’ve learned a few things since then. And that you maybe wouldn’t approach the problem in quite that way now. But also there’s some good ideas in there that you forget because you move on and you do other things. So there’s something that I would encourage people to document and not just for ourselves. 
There are areas of our activist histories that are just not visible. The Scottish Homosexual Action Group, I went looking for some information about Lark in the Park and it’s attributed to the other more established group, as the group that organised it on Wikipedia, because the Scottish Homosexual Action Group wasn’t that organised with documenting. So I’m going to learn how to edit Wikipedia, so I can fix that because… you know, it’s a small thing, but I was like, they didn’t do it, we did that, you know. And I, thought, yeah, okay, it’s, it’s worth taking some notes and, for… well, for future generations as well, you know, there are libraries. 

I hope that we will always have libraries of some sort, and we need to be able to learn what worked and what didn’t work. So even if it’s not stuff that’s going to be published, being able to share it somehow, finding a way to share what you’ve done that worked that was successful, and what you did that just landed flat and left everyone feeling a bit yuck because activism, you mentioned joy earlier and yeah, the picnic in the park was all about… like we’re going to have a party, they’re telling us we’re not real, we’re going to have a party. And finding ways to hold on to those bits of joy and successes is worth it. Other people need to know.

Jen Ang

Something that all our activists recognise is that caring about the world and trying to change it is hard. And the more visible you are, the more you personally and voluntarily shoulder the burden of sticking out, saying different, being perceived as different, and sometimes suffering for it. How to cope with that? 

Here’s some wise words from Amanda Amaeshi. Amanda is an award-winning activist, campaigner and writer who focuses on gender inequality, anti-racism and youth voice and political participation. She’s been an activist since her teens with the Girlguiding movement and has recently graduated from the UCL with a degree in law.

Amanda Amaeshi

This is a really lovely question and actually I remember last year I wrote an article all about this actually for The WOW Foundation, giving my advice to aspiring changemakers… and then the key points related to identifying one’s key interests and goals, finding the opportunities, building community, dealing with imposter syndrome – especially when you’re doing quite big roles like being on the National Advisory Council – and then also resisting that fear and apathy. So I would definitely encourage interested listeners to check that out. Perhaps that could be linked in the show notes. 

But I wanted to mention one other thing that I feel like I’ve not spoken about elsewhere before. Something new. Sometimes… especially when I’m thinking about younger me, maybe what 14, 15-year-old me would have wanted to hear when I first started doing this activism, advocacy stuff properly is that sometimes not everybody is going to understand why you care so much or why you want to do the actions that you’re doing. I mean, to be fair, a decent amount of people will, this is not to be off putting. I guess the reality is that some people might try to mock you, make fun of you, try to belittle you in the hopes that you might stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing and it can be quite disheartening to be honest. But I think it’s important to remember that advocating for change is never easy. And kind of like facing such remarks from other people is just one part of how it might not always be easy.

But it’s really important to try not to let that get to you and just stay true to the value system that’s guiding you. Keep in your mind the changes that you wish to see, which again why I said that, think about the problems, we also have to think about the solutions as well, the ideal scenario, and keep in focus the changes that you wish to see which are possible. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise and find yourself a community of changemakers who you can learn from, who you can seek support and solidarity from, and put in your best ability, and… don’t let other people’s small minds limit your imagination.

Jen Ang

Don’t let other people’s small minds limit your imagination. Love that so much. 
Need a little more advice to bolster yourself against those doubts that creep in, those tiny criticisms from others that amplify in your mind and the self-doubt that so many of us never really shake? Let’s hear next from Pheona Matovu. 

Pheona is a social entrepreneur and co-founder of Radiant and Brighter, an anti-racist educator and advocate. She is completing a PhD at the University of Glasgow on how workplaces can take actions against racism and has also recently published a book, the Radiant and Brighter Antiracism Journal. Pheona talks to us about turning 50 and the realisation that the biggest and most important job is that you can have is learning to be you and then to be more you.

Pheona Matovu

One of the things that happens when you take a challenging journey or when you get to the age I am, which is, for those who will be listening, I made 50 this year. So can I just say, when I talk about making 50, I speak about it with, with appreciation. I know that people usually are cautious about their age. But just before I made 50, a few people I knew personally, left and they’re no longer with us and I became more appreciative and I started to think I’m glad that I am here at 50. So that’s why I have made a big deal of it than probably anybody else I know!

But when you get to the age I am, you realise all that all the while it was okay to just be you, just be you. And also, and I completely and totally believe, it’s important to have integrity and to be authentic. Now some of the things that we, that I’ve had to be part of, they’re great things, they’re amazing things… there is a stage at which you need to know who you are and make decisions based on what you believe in. If you don’t focus on understanding and knowing yourself and the values, or you don’t get the opportunity to, because of circumstances or situations or the environments we find ourselves in, which is which… it’s difficult to know who you were when everything is screaming at you and trying to make you somebody else and to be who you were when you have to… you know, try and work within an environment that does not perhaps accept you or… but I think it’s okay to remove yourself from situations, people, environments that seek to fix you when you, when you are okay. 

So I would say be you. If you don’t know who you are, take time to know who you were. Allow yourself to just know yourself and be you. And at this age, it’s something that I am learning still, but it’s a very powerful tool because you don’t have to try and be somebody else. You don’t have to try and fight things a certain way. Some people fight a certain way, others fight in different ways, others don’t fight at all. Others do not have the tools and what they need to fight. And it’s okay. It’s just okay. Just okay.

Jen Ang

Oh, are we feeling emotional yet? 

As I mentioned earlier, putting together this episode has been such a treat. A little bit like writing a collective love letter to ourselves as young activists, and also to those people out there, young or old, who are just starting out on your activism journeys.
So when the going gets tough and you need a little encouragement, where do our activists turn for help? To each other, of course. 

Here, Heather Fisken, chief executive of Inclusion Scotland, reminds me of why we loved working together so much and why we worked so hard to do that for many years, even without formal funding or support. 

Inclusion Scotland is Scotland’s umbrella organisation for Disabled Peoples, or DPOs, which is something that Heather mentions when she gives this advice.

Heather Fisken

Just keep doing it, keep doing it. If you are in the right, then be in the right, own it, own your space and collectivise with other people. The strength in collectivising, not just within your own community, but with allied communities. And Jen, you and I go back some way, and I’ve always wanted to do more work in our organisation around justice, but like many DPOs, we don’t have the funding. I think that the digital world has really opened up activism, in a low-cost kind of way, but just keep going for it and collectivise. Use your allies, give to your allies as well. You never know when you’re going to need them. And just keep going. If you’re in the right, then you’re on the right path, basically.

Jen Ang

And following on from Heather, Tressa Burke, Chief Executive of the Glasgow Disability alliance, agrees wholeheartedly.

Tressa Burke

Oh, my goodness, that’s a hard question. Run a mile! Don’t do it. 

No, I think, know that you can’t do everything. Do what you can and don’t do it alone. Build allies, build friends, build support. I think, really, I feel, I feel as though I’m a builder, you can see that because GDA has almost 6,000 members now. And it’s not just me, it’s never been just me, it’s always been a collective cause. And I think that holding onto that peer support is so important. It’s important to our members, but it’s also important to chief execs supporting each other. To me, with my team supporting each other, you know, we don’t get dissuaded from the cause and from the mission, and we support each other doing it. 

But the other, I suppose, piece of advice would be, to myself. Don’t get too upset when you know you’re going to get knocked down, but just get back up. Just keep getting back up. But you need support to do that and that’s why the support is so important, because you can keep going if you’ve got the support, but if you’re doing it all alone or if you feel that you’re taking it all on your own, that’s too much. So definitely, I think support is the big part of it and keeping getting back up. Because the thing is, you absolutely will get knocked down. You’ll be slapped down some of the times, you’ll be knocked down some of the times. I’ve had it all. But, yeah, keep going, it’s worth it, it’s worth it because you’re helping people change their lives and have a better life.

Jen Ang

We’ve stepped now into advice around resilience, and this seems like the perfect time to bring in Satwat Rehman. Satwat is a feminist, anti-racism activist and Chief Executive of One Parent Family Scotland, the leading charity working with single parent families in Scotland.

Satwat Rehman

Don’t doubt yourself all the time. Yeah, that would be my first thing. And, you know, shake off that imposter syndrome. You’ve got a right to be there and as much of a right as anybody else, you know. We’ve all taken different paths to get to where we are. And I didn’t set off on my sort of work journey thinking this is where I want to end up. But I’ve always… and I think, yeah, I suppose this for me would be the most important advice: just be true to yourself in what you’re doing, you know. Don’t be shaken from that. And be happy in what you do. Yeah, because we don’t struggle for the sake of struggle; we struggle for the sake of everybody having a better life, you know, and so that can’t just be about work and activism. We have to remember what it is we’re fighting for. 

Can I just say one thing? There’s not a meeting I don’t go into without suffering from imposter syndrome still. Well, I was… weekend before last, I went down to London to go to see Massive Attack in concert. And at the start of that, the wonderful actor, Khalid Abdullah, who’s been speaking out on Palestine since the word go, gave a five-minute speech which was absolutely amazing. And one of the things he said towards the end was: I know it’s hard for you to think about enjoying yourselves and relaxing and dancing because so many of you have been so active on Palestine and continue to be so active on Palestine, but it’s important that you do so. It’s important that you remember why we struggle and why we campaign.

Jen Ang

I love how Satwat talks about finding resilience and joy in community and celebration, which feels like a fitting way to bring us back to where we started, marking the new Lunar Year, the start of Ramadan and the start of the Lenten season. 

So to conclude, I leave you with some final words from Alison Pickup, award-winning barrister and Executive Director of the Helen Bamber Foundation Group, who work for the rehabilitation of survivors of trafficking and torture.

Alison Pickup

I think my number one piece of advice is don’t hurry. Like, I think when you’re young and enthusiastic, you can be very impatient to get on with your career and with achieving big things. But, there’s plenty of time and what’s important is to really take time to know what you enjoy, what motivates you, where your skills are and focus on that area. 

So for me it was a very gradual path. You know, I started as a caseworker. I realised that I really enjoyed being an advocate in court and so I ended up qualifying as a barrister. And then, you know, after having practised for kind of nearly 10 years, I then decided I wanted to move more into the NGO world. 

And so, like, I just think, don’t hurry and take your time and learn and learn what’s good. And the other one I would say is, colleagues, partnership network, is really important. You, this work can be really challenging emotionally as well as stressful. It can be very tiring. You can’t do it alone and you need to build that network in, you know, in your workplace, with colleagues in the sector, with people who don’t work in this world at all in order to have, like, really good support around you and people who understand what drives you, who are there for you when things get tough is really important.

Jen Ang

Wow. I hope you’ve loved this episode as much as I have and that we have brought some warmth, solace or inspiration into your day and maybe even sown some radical seeds with you. 

And so concludes today’s episode in which a number of activists and friends have shared with us their advice to their younger selves and for you, all of you. 

Meanwhile, a very big thank you to Davie Donaldson, Sandy Brindley, Talat Yaqoob, Andy Sirel, Lily Greenan, Amanda Amaeshi, Pheona Matovu, Heather Fisken, Tressa Burke, Satwat Rehman, and Alison Pickup for their contributions to today’s episode.
And thanks so much to you, the listeners, for tuning into our Lawmanity podcast again in the new year and for this, the last of our special series on Equality Under the Law in Scotland. 

If you loved this podcast, please do hit the subscribe buttons and also like and share our episodes with friends and colleagues who might enjoy learning a little bit about how law really works in practice and how it can be used to make the world a better, brighter place. 

Our ‘Equality Under the Law’ series has been generously supported by a grant from the Atlantic Fellows for Social and Economic Equity, hosted by the London School of Economics. The Lawmanity podcast is co-produced by me, your host Jen Ang, and by the brilliant and talented Natalia Uribe. And the music you’ve been listening to is “Always on the Move” by Musicians in Exile, a Glasgow-based music project led by people seeking refuge in Scotland. 

Thanks so much for tuning in today, we hope you enjoyed listening, and see you next time!

“If you have nothing useful to say, then say nothing at all….”

Silence comes easy to me; the effort of sorting my thoughts, expressing them clearly to others – who won’t understand, or who actively strive to misunderstand – is burdensome.

And TBH, the last few months (from May to August of this year) have been challenging – personally, politically, philosophically.

Last night, I think I hit the bottom of what must have been a long-brewing existential crisis.

And you know what? I feel better now.

I’m ready to talk. So thanks for joining me.

The wisdom of others: finding your own path to defiance

I have not been completely silent, nor entirely inactive.

Some of the time, I have been gathering in my thoughts – trying hard to make sense of the shifting political and cultural landscape that is transforming my work in the UK, and more importantly, upending the lives of family and friends here, in the US, and globally.

And I spent some time hanging out, and recording interviews with some of the most brilliant activists and lawyers I know – to research my fellowship project for the Atlantic Fellows for Social and Economic Equity and to produce and launch The Lawmanity Podcast

I asked my friends and heroes the questions that are keeping me up at night:

• is the law a barrier or a tool to achieve change?
• what does justice look like to you?
• what advice do you have for a younger you?

After reviewing those interviews, writing up my fellowship project and spending quite a lot of time staring out the window, silently.. here’s what I’ve learned, about others, and my own journey to defiance:

Step 1: Embrace your silence

Everyone is different, but for me – until I have had space to think through everything happening around me – until I can put my own narrative and story to where I am now, what’s happening for me today, and where I hope to be going … I feel uneasy, unmoored, and uncertain.

So Step 1 is: stay still, stay silent, take space.

Give yourself a hug, practice sitting comfortably with who you are, be compassionate towards yourself and others

I do this, because I must. I have a regular morning practice, which requires spending time with me, and for me. Because many years of lawyering and activism has taught me that this work will literally end me, if I don’t look after myself, daily.

And the end of me (or the end of you) is no triumph for any cause that matters, to either of us.

If you need another reason to sit in the sun, and go easy on yourself, here it is: the most consistent, motivated, effective activists who I know … are bold, confident leaders because they are right with themselves – from the inside.

Where to get started? Try this loving kindness meditation with Andy Puddicombe from Headspace or this mountain meditation written by Jon Kabat-Zinn.

Step 2: Encourage your resistance

If you are right with yourself, you start to listen to your inner voice, and trust your instincts.

I think most of us have an inner sense of justice and injustice, which speaks to us entirely separate from the external messages we receive – from friends and family, from work colleagues, from pop culture and social media.

But often, we’re socialised to ignore, or even silence, that inner voice.

I picked up this book, Defy, The power of no in a world that demands yes by Dr. Sunita Sah and read it – more or less – straight through. The author has studied defiance, and importantly, the precursors that people experience and express that lead up to single and sustained acts of defiance.

The book had me hooked at a really simple (and non-political) example of defiance that she shared from her own life – a single, trivial, banal occasion when the author chose not to do what she felt pressured to do. The author demonstrated that we all feel inner resistance, and we all have the ability to tap into the “why” that is causing us discomfort.

So Step 2 is: listen to and encourage your resistance.

Name the thing that is bothering you. Describe – for yourself, but as if you are explaining to others, what exactly is not okay about what is happening, and why you are feeling resistance.

Literally, give courage to your inner voice, but more importantly, ask yourself what a better world would look like.

What are the conditions that would release this dis-ease, and that would allow you to feel an absence of resistance towards this situation, your surrounding world?

Step 3: Embolden your actions

Before we get to step 3, I just want to make really clear that I believe silent reflection, coming to understand your self worth and listening for your inner voice are all worthy actions that already count as potent acts of resistance.

Action does not need to be visible, or effortful or large-scale (in any way), in order to be important, significant.

I also think, as explained in The courage to be authentically you, that our identities mean that some of us carry more risk in being visible, and vulnerable, in our defiance. So what action looks like is going to be different for each of us, and that has to be okay.

But, for me, the last step in defiance does involve doing things, with my mind and my body – and usually, with others or with the purpose of communicating with others.

You will need to negotiate your defiance, on your own terms. But drawn from my interviews with other activists and reflecting on my own decisions, I here are some questions to explore for ideas:

• What do you have the time, resources and energy to do?
• What are you good at? What do you enjoy?
• Where do you hold influence? Who listens to you, and on what (social media or real life) platforms?
• What can you risk and what things in your life are non-negotiable?
• What brings you joy?

Don’t estimate the joy question. Defiance, like any habit, must be rewarding… and yes, of course, joyful

Step 3: make a plan and take step towards defiant action.

Sometimes our intentions fall down between the dreaming part, and the doing part.

So borrowing a little wisdom from the “getting things done” method – I’m suggesting you actually identify and take the first step towards expressing your own defiance in a single, clearly identified action.

That could be:

• text a friend who mentioned a gig, event or action you are curious about joining
• donate £2 to a cause you believe in
• drop in on a campaign group or charity, and ask how you can help
• [your amazing idea here]

That’s all I’ve got for this week. Thanks for reading the Long View – it’s good to be back!

I’d love to hear how you’re sitting with the world this week, whether you have tips for creating silent spaces, listening to your own resistance or getting from planning to action in the changes you want to see in the world.

First published on LinkedIn on 4 September 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-cultivate-defiance-silence-resistance-action-jen-ang-vxx8e

There may be more to say about how it feels to watch one’s native country slide, rapidly, towards fascism; but that is for next week.

For now, I feel we all need a pick-me-up, and so I’m sharing excerpts from this inspiring gem of a letter written by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés in 2001, but still forcefully relevant and moving today:

Mis estimados queridos, My Esteemed Ones:

Do not lose heart. We were made for these times.

I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world now. It is true, one has to have strong cojones and ovarios to withstand much of what passes for “good” in our culture today… Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people.

…You are right in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking. Yet… I urge you, ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these difficult times.

Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is that we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we have been learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this exact plain of engagement.

Do not lose hope in these difficult times

I cannot tell you often enough that we are definitely the leaders we have been waiting for, and that we have been raised, since childhood, for this time precisely.

Look around: you are not alone

…I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened souls, there have never been more able vessels in the waters than there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind.

I would like to take your hands for a moment and assure you that you are built well for these times. Despite your stints of doubt, your frustrations in arighting all that needs change right now, or even feeling you have lost the map entirely, you are not without resource, you are not alone.

Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. …Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless…

We all have a heritage and history of being gutted, and yet remember this especially … we have also, of necessity, perfected the knack of resurrection.

Over and over again we have been the living proof that that which has been exiled, lost, or foundered – can be restored to life again.

This is as true and sturdy a prognosis for the destroyed worlds around us as it was for our own once mortally wounded selves.

…Though we are not invulnerable, our risibility supports us to laugh in the face of cynics who say “fat chance,” and “management before mercy,” and other evidences of complete absence of soul sense. This, and our having been ‘to Hell and back’ on at least one momentous occasion, makes us seasoned vessels for certain. Even if you do not feel that you are, you are.

…Believe the evidence of any one of your past testings and trials. Here it is: Are you still standing? The answer is, Yes! (And no adverbs like “barely” are allowed here). If you are still standing, ragged flags or no, you are able. Thus, you have passed the bar. And even raised it. You are seaworthy.

Remembering we are needed

…In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.

We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear…You have all the resource you need to ride any wave, to surface from any trough.

In the language of aviators and sailors, ours is to sail forward now, all balls out…

How do we intervene in a stormy world?

Stand up and show your soul

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.

What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take “everyone on Earth” to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity.

There can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth

Remember who you serve, and who sent you here

Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times…when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes is an American poet, post-trauma specialist and Jungian psychoanalyst, and author of Women Who Run With the Wolves.

First published on LinkedIn on 9 May 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/we-made-times-letter-young-activist-during-troubled-jen-ang-louxe

…

And then, yesterday, I got this WhatsApp from my mom:

Just to put this in perspective, my mother (a US and HK citizen, previously also a British subject and British passport holder) is advising me to enter the US – the country of my birth and first citizenship – on a British passport … because she’s worried I’ll be sent to an El Salvadoran prison. Or worse.

My mother knows that I have committed no crime. She knows that I’m an immigration lawyer, qualified to practice in both the US and the UK.

She worries, that would make no difference.

…

Initially, I brushed pass this exchange as a bit of folly – silly older person panic, too much MSNBC.

It is also “illegal” for a US citizen to enter or leave the country unless they are bearing a valid US passport. I have always thought this was a particularly stupid rule – and anyone who is a dual citizen and travels between their countries of citizenship will understand why.

Our family histories, hidden in plain sight

Even so, these messages made me think a bit harder about my mother. She was born in Macau, where her parents fled to seek safety during the WWII Japanese military occupation of Hong Kong.

And I thought about her husband, whose Jewish parents fled to the US from Eastern Europe, escaping the early days of the Hungarian Holocaust.

Both were born to families who fled their homes to escape war or persecution. At the time they were born, their parents were struggling to build a new life, in a new place, while their homelands of nationality were occupied under martial law.

It made me wonder what their parents were like. Their parents knew what it was like to live with freedom and privilege and to see that swept away in days, perhaps hours. They must have known profound fear.

I remember my grandmother as a distant, formidable and terrifying figure, and a total queen at the mahjong table – but was she also grieving, traumatised?

My mother has never really spoken to me about this. And I’m certain that my mother, at least, doesn’t identify as a “refugee”.

…

A mother’s wisdom

And yet. Something about my mother’s lived experience – a memory, an instinct – drove her to give me this advice: keep your options open; travel on your safest passport.

And this made me revisit some other wisdom from the olds

• Get a good education. They can take everything from you, but they can’t take your education.
• Look after your family. You don’t have to like them, but it is your duty to look after each other.
• Look after your health. Without your health, you have nothing.

I’m sure I bridled and fought against each of these lessons over the years. But this morning, with the sun on my face, and both history and future in mind, they seem wise and true.

Almost, urgent.

…

Here’s where I’ve ended today: maybe it’s time to teach the kids how to play mahjong.

Maybe we watch the film Crazy Rich Asians while we’re at it.

Maybe the olds were wiser than I thought they were.

…

And while we’re there, leaving you with this other wisdom from the olds:

Every day is a new day, and the sun always shines again

Thanks for reading The Long View again this week! I would love to hear your reflections, either on the challenge of living across a border from family and loved ones – or on a moment when you realised that your “olds” were wiser and stronger than you thought they could be.

First published on LinkedIn on 11 April 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/crossing-borders-safety-mothers-love-jen-ang-mwawe

Christina was an extraordinary woman, and she lived a daring, brilliant and authentic life – somehow managing to navigate politics and stand up for values and causes that mattered to her.

I’m glad that, in Scotland, my children have grown up in a place where funny, generous and open-hearted people like Christina can win political campaigns, and run a government.

This week, I visited the Scottish Parliament, with my family and afterwards we went for dinner to talk about what we’d seen – a handful of politicians working late in the parliamentary chamber, to comment on, engage with, and hold government to account on making things better for a group who is among our most disenfranchised, discriminated against, impoverished and exploited: migrants in Scotland, particularly those who are racialised, with no recourse to public funds or undocumented.

“It was more interesting than I thought it would be, actually.”

“They brought so much passion into the debate.”

“I just didn’t know how hard politicians actually work.”

The difference we all make

For this final Long View of the year, I wanted to return to a thread that I’m sure I’ve picked up before: the importance of believing that you can, and do, make a difference.

For people who are interested in social justice, and campaigning for change, the question of whether we’re making a difference is usually a source of both motivation and dread.

We hope that our actions will create change, and we fear that they will not.

And when we head to the streets, or into online digital communities, to encourage and inspire members of the public to take action, any campaigner knows that the threshold question we must be able to answer is:

Why should I believe that anything I do – just me, alone – will make any difference?

Perhaps you’ve had this conversation, at home, at school or out with friends:

“It makes no difference if I recycle this one bottle or not, because I’m not going to save the planet.”

”My vote doesn’t matter, it never has, and it never will.”

”The system is rigged; nothing is ever going to change it.”

Personally, I’ve always been a passionate believer that people do make a difference, and easily frustrated with people who complain about stuff without actually doing something.

But I like to think that as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand that people have different capabilities, experiences and vulnerabilities – and (I hope) I have become a lot less judgmental about opinionated people on the sidelines, and those who feel left behind – and a lot more curious about what can be done to change those beliefs, and restore a sense of agency and ownership about our collective destiny.

How to keep making a difference

So, in honour of Christina McKelvie, and my beloved cousin, Rob, here are a few things I see in their legacies – and that I try to return to, when I (or the people around me) feel doubtful, or fearful, that we are not making a difference:

Find and honour your motivation – We all do things for a reason, and acknowledging and embracing your core motivation is probably the single best way to keep yourself going, even in the face of hardship and failure.

Find and surround yourself with people who honour, respect and support your efforts – and who can help bring you back to your core when your resolve falters.

Focus on values and process, over outcome – Hold fast to your values (like kindness, equality, humanity) and prioritise process-oriented goals (like consistency, balance, efficiency) over outcome-oriented goals. You can’t control any outcome that is affected by external variables beyond your control – that is true of all social justice issues.

Define personal success every day as showing up and being the best you, nothing more and nothing less.

Trust (and forgive) yourself and accept comfort from others – People who live daring, brilliant and authentic lives are going to experience hardship and pain, like everyone else. And maybe also a larger-than-usual helping of public criticism, humiliation or ridicule because they have chosen to stick out, or try something different.

The people I know who keep at it, and stay true to themselves, have a confidence and groundedness that can only come from knowing and trusting yourself.

Learn to trust (and forgive) yourself first, and then how to accept comfort from others – remember that allowing others to help you is not a burden, but a gift.

Thanks again, folks, for reading The Long View again this week, and for being here to mark a whole entire year of writing and reflecting together.

…

And, as always, a little recommendation to brighten your Friday, this short poem “how do you do it?” from poet, playwright and activist Lemn Sissay, featured in his most recent collection let the light pour in

First published on LinkedIn on 28 March 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/difference-you-make-every-day-jen-ang-ciqae

It has been a cold and bruising winter – with some light moments (a surprise wedding) but also some dark ones (an unexpected funeral).

This week, the Long View has been thinking about the miracle of ordinary resistance, and what means for individuals to publicly align their actions and words, with their privately held values and truths.

This is clearly on my mind and in the air because:

We are seeing a much more direct and naked use of the law to suppress expressions of identity and allyship – like Hungary banning LGBT+ Pride marches and an Idaho public school teacher being forced to remove a poster from her classroom that affirms: “Everyone is Welcome Here”.

Using the law (to criminalise expressions of identity) and formal processes (like threatening the school teacher with loss of employment) raises the stakes for individual acts of defiance.

Hungarian lawmakers have reasonably (and correctly) calculated that there are a large number of people – LGBT+ or not – who would attend a Pride march if it is legal to do so, but not if doing so will ruin their careers, endanger their families and land them in jail for an indeterminate amount of time.

Similarly, we have to assume that many teachers in the United States – possibly a majority of teachers ordered to do so – have silently taken down posters that encourage inclusion, celebrate diversity and promote equality, in their classrooms.

Not because they do not believe in equality, diversity and inclusion, but because they feel they cannot afford to take a stand on this issue, when the US Department of Education has launched a website for public reporting called the “End DEI” portal.

But ordinary resistance matters – visible acts of joy, celebration of our unique identities and being role models for kindness, compassion and acceptance – are a potent way of directly opposing the erasure of our communities and a false vision of who we all are.

Here are some of my favourite recent examples of brave, beautiful ordinary resistance:

This video by Lady Rampant, law student and Scottish drag queen legend on ‘ripping up the rule book’ and ‘making your own magic’

This movie: Jojo Rabbit (2019), a strangely gentle, sad and yet uplifting film about a little boy in the Hitler Youth who discovers his mother is hiding a Jewish girl in their home

This retrospective exhibition of the work of Everlyn Nicodemus – feminist, activist and artist – at the National Gallery of Modern Art in Edinburgh. Can’t make it to Edinburgh? Watch this short film instead.

The courage to find, celebrate and embody: you

Something that I have always found funny around “allyship” is that we often assume that we have to talk about others as being different and having different experiences to us, as a way of figuring out to what we can do to support friends and loved ones who face barriers because of difference.

But. Everyone is, essentially, different. And the feeling of being excluded, humiliated and harmed in some way for being different is definitely within the emotional bandwidth of everyone, on this earth.

So too is the potential to draw on that experience, in order to embody a way of living (yourself) and treating others better than you were treated.

I point this out not to minimise or trivialise harm – some people absolutely experience harm and exclusion on a completely different scale to other people.

The core message here is not: everyone suffers equally. Some people suffer a lot more.

But perhaps, only: everyone suffers.

That’s part of being human. But we can ease each other’s suffering. And that’s part of being human too.

(Maybe that is what we should be putting on posters for schoolrooms, next year)

A challenge, if you’re up to it

So here’s some homework, to help you find and embody your own ordinary resistance, inspired by these flagstones that reference the work of Scottish sociologist and geographer, Patrick Geddes.

If you stand in opposition to regressive movements that seek to ban the expression of diverse identities, suppress facts and truth, and narrow the ground for public discourse, you are going to be confronted, over the next five years with a range of opportunities to: act or not act, speak up or not speak up, do or not do.

(Feel like I’m channeling a little bit of Yoda here – to be fair, Yoda is my spirit animal)

So ask yourself these questions, and do it now – so you’re ahead of the curve when you meet that challenge:

Where will I draw the line? What can I risk, and what can’t I risk?

What are the principles, facts and lived realities that I am willing to defend, for myself? For others?

What lessons do people learn when they spend time with me, and near me?

Can I take meaningful action to give comfort and safety to others (privately), even if I cannot take a visible stand (publicly)?

Thanks again for reading The Long View, this week. I would love to hear your thoughts – if you’re up to it, on whether “ordinary resistance” makes sense to you in the current context, and/or your own favourite examples of people who embody “ordinary resistance”

…

Also, and finally… next week will be the end of a whole year of writing The Long View. I’m pondering whether to continue – and if I do, at the same pace, at a different pace, or whether to try a shift to a whole different medium. Suggestions welcome!

First published on LinkedIn on 21 March 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-embody-miracle-ordinary-resistance-jen-ang-zuxbe

And that means my attention was fully captivated 24/7 by the spectacle of a democratically-elected government enacting policy after policy, aimed – fundamentally – at destroying the livelihood, homes and lives of people it was elected to serve.

Taking stock: Fascism in the White House

In just two months, Trump has shut down or curtailed the roles of institutions that protect people (like the Department of Education, the Environmental Protection Agency and the National Institutes of Health) and is well on his way to tanking the US economy.

Elon Musk, as head of the shadowy Department of Government Efficiency, which somehow has the power to email every federal employee in America, celebrated his rise to power with a Nazi salute, and has recently demanded access to private and sensitive data for millions and millions of Americans.

As someone who has lived for two years in Communist China in the late 1980s, and in Ba’athist Iraq in the early 1990s, I think I have a good gut feeling for what cruel and totalitarian governments look like – and what happens to people when those who hold power rule only in their own interests, robbing everyone else of their dignity and their futures – and when there are no means left to hold state authority to account.

It’s not good. Both the US and the UK are heading that way – but now, the US has been pushed off a cliff, and the only question left: who or what forces remain in play, with the power to slow or halt this fall?

The political, economic and social landscape is shifting, globally.  Change is coming at a radical pace, so for those of us who remain committed to ensuring that all people can live their lives in equal safety and dignity, we’re going to need a radical shift in tactics to meet this challenge.

How?

History lessons: Learn from anti-fascist movements

Last night, I had an interesting conversation with middle child. She said that her teacher had brought the poem that I have in my office to her Nat 5 History class, for discussion. (This poem, above, by Pastor Martin Niemoller)

Middle child was surprised to learn that some of her peers (aged 15) did not know that the Nazi regime built concentration camps, where they tortured and killed millions of people during WWII.

Her teacher had told them that concentration camps are not strictly part of their Nat 5 History curriculum – which directs students to focus only on the rise of the Nazi state – but that she felt it was important to also teach them what happened after the rise of the Nazi state.

I told middle child that she has an excellent secondary school history teacher.

Any student of modern history can tell you that the rise of fascism today – especially the tactics – are drawn directly from historical and contemporary lessons about how authoritarian regimes steal and guard state power.

But we also know this thing: anti-fascists have won victories. Over time, popular uprisings have brought down fascist governments.

So how did they do it?

For inspiration, try this excellent article by Professor Bart Cammaerts at the London School of Economics “Five lessons from past anti-fascists struggles” – he urges us to:

connect – dream – make cool art – litigate – resist

Here’s a direct quote from the “taking action” part of his article:

1. “Build transnational and cross-ideological coalitions of anti-fascist resistance within civil society and beyond: The anti-fascist movement not only bridged the geographical boundaries but also the ideological ones. Through the anti-fascist struggle, a strong chain of equivalence was constructed between socialists, communists, anarchists, liberals, Catholics, and freemasons.
2. Develop democratic alternatives to the fascist discourse and its allure to young and working class people: As in the past, there is a material and socio-economic ground for the resurgence of fascism, and as in the last century an interregnum, during which the “old is dying but the new cannot be born” as of yet (dixit Antonio Gramsci), also characterises these times.
3. Re-invigorate a culture and an aesthetic of anti-fascist resistance: Emotions and the affective dimension as well as a sophisticated publicity regime were central to the fascist appeal, which was in turn contested by a creative and exuberant culture and aesthetic of resistance (f.e. Bertold Brecht, John Heartfield, Walter Benjamin, André Malraux, and indeed George Orwell). This aesthetic and affect of resistance not only de-mystified and contested fascism but also celebrated freedom, equality and democratic alternatives; we need something similarly exhuberant and contestational today.
4. Document, record and prepare future litigation: The fascist modus operandi is one of the flagrant abuses of human rights and the manifest flaunting of the rule of law and the separation of powers. History also teaches us, however, that fascist rule is never absolute nor eternal, and that there is always a moment of reckoning. Hence, anti-fascist resistance must also document, record, and gather evidence.
5. Civil disobedience, disruption and sabotage: Finally, sabotage of fascist policies and disruption of their infiltration of state apparatuses was also crucial historically. The resistance against fascism was never just an affair of elites or artists, but also of workers, civil servants, farmers, and even (small) businesspeople, all circumventing and sabotaging fascist rule and policies. This is also something that will become crucial and necessary to develop and nurture again.”

Lessons for the : Choosing optimism over despair

Finally, a reminder: we are not alone in this struggle.

Artists, thinkers, dreamers and activists have already held the ground that we stand on now. They have done the thinking, sketched out a better future and even made some of that cool art – like Mark Titchner x BUILDHOLLYWOOD whose 2025 posters are featured in the photo at the top of this article.

We just need to find their work, and share it back to people who need to see, hear and hold this precious thing: hope

Thanks for reading The Long View again this week. I would love to hear about the thinking, art and activist resistance that you draw inspiration from, and that you think people should be hearing more about, especially now.

And…

Leaving you with this quote, from Noam Chomsky, in his interview “Why I choose optimism over despair“

We have two choices. We can be pessimistic, give up and help ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can be optimistic, grasp the opportunities that surely exist and maybe help make the world a better place. Not much of a choice.

First published on LinkedIn on 14 March 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-fight-new-fascism-jen-ang-ras3e

This feels a little bit like a metaphor for how it feels, at the end of January 2025, to be an observer of global politics if you live in the Western world (by which I mean, the global north).

There’s a storm a’coming

In late 2024, we saw the rise of far-right parties across Europe and also the re-election of Donald Trump as President of the United States.

Although the UK July 2024 elections ended 14 years of Conservative Party rule, returning the Labour Party to power, it is clear that people living in Britain are politically and socially connected to global movements – and we can expect to see right and far-right parties gain political power here, too.

What does that mean for people who still care about things like: ending poverty and war, halting the destruction of our planet, and making the world a more equal place for everyone?

Like, shouldn’t those things be priority for all of us?

And why isn’t it?

So why can’t we see it clearly?

I can skim most major media outlets and tell you that the leading stories are rarely about the important things. My social media feeds offer me updates that sit a bit closer to what I believe to be important, but these are self-curated experiences and therefore limited – literally – by who and what I already know.

I sometimes wish that there were media platforms out there that could just consistently prioritise making the important things visible, accessible and exciting to learn about.

(Hats off to investigative journalists like the good folks at The Ferret and Peter Geoghegan‘s Democracy for Sale newsletter who do just that… but they are the few and the brave, and we need many, many more people supported to do this kind of hard and illuminating work.)

In the absence of a world, where objective, thoughtful investigative journalism is a mainstream thing, I would recommend challenging yourself to find and learn about diverse and critical perspectives on, well, everything – especially the stuff you’re certain that you’re right about. You won’t regret it, I promise.

And who is going to build our shelters?

By which I mean, this storm is destructive. As my partner reminded me last night, “people all around the world voted for change, and that’s what those parties must deliver“.

Far right ideology is about promoting the idea that a small group of people, tightly defined by a very specific set of racial, gender, religious and socio-economic criteria, deserve more rights, resources and freedoms than everybody else.

If you disagree with what I wrote, I’m really, really happy to have that conversation. Like, please, prove me wrong.

But if I’m right … delivering for change on this platform is going to be destructive, and dangerous for people whose race, gender or gender identity, or religious or cultural identity or something else – puts them on the wrong side of this tiny circle of people who right-led governments believe deserve protection.

So we need to build shelters for the people we love, who are facing fear and harm – and who cannot turn to the state to keep them safe

We need women’s refuges, for all women

We need sanctuary movements for migrants

We need safe spaces for LGBT+ people

People are already hard at work, building these places. They have, in fact, always been here. You will find them in the community – handing out cups of tea, helping people make phone calls and fill in forms and driving all across the city to pick up and deliver things because someone, somewhere, needed something.

Please help those people. Help them build the shelters that we’re all going to need, eventually, to wait out this storm.

And finally, …

Who is going to rebuild our world, when the storm passes?

Destruction is also opportunity for creation.

I won’t push this point too hard, because I’ve already written about the power of dreaming and why we should all read banned books – but we must keep working on compelling alternative visions of how the world could be.

One day, someone is going to turn to you and ask you what you would have done, if you had the power to make a change. It would be good if you had an answer ready for that day

Find your rainbow (and your sense of humour)

I’ve always loved rainbows. Who doesn’t?

Aside from the fact that they are clearly a sign that magic exists all around us, they remind us that the storm always ends.

Whilst you’re waiting for that to happen, remember to breathe.. and to keep laughing, even if it’s at yourself.

Here’s a throwback from the Covid years that I found today:

So, to recap: how to survive stormy weather

support independent journalism

build safe spaces for each other

dream and build visions for a better future

remember to laugh (at yourself) and find your rainbow

First published on LinkedIn on 24 January 2025:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-survive-stormy-weather-jen-ang-uaufe/

This is a tricky time of year for lots of people; we’re all looking forward to a break, and many people are going to get one, but there’s an awful lot of social pressure: to conform, to perform, and to achieve during that break – and that can make for unhappy times.

Navigating other people’s expectations

Lots of conversations this month have highlighted that friends and family are navigating many different demands on their time – and over and again I’m being told that people are planning events, meet-ups, and activities that are just – not them.

Or that requires them to curate an image of themselves that sits uncomfortably far from who they feel themselves to be, inside.

Because I know lovely people, this usually comes from a good place – a desire to please others, to put collective expectation above individual preferences, to not make a fuss or be a burden to others, and so on.

But also, because I know lovely people, I have an important general announcement

Remember to respect who you are, when you’re negotiating your time, energy and resources with others

This is yet another “do as I say, and not as I do” bits of advice, but it is heartfelt.

Power, dominant culture and the risks in being visible, and vulnerable

I know I’ve raised a complex issue, and you were hoping for an easy read this week.

So I’ll make it quick, and get us back to the upbeat stuff.

We all know that “be yourself” and “be authentic” talk can feel very blah blah blah.

That’s because in our society, it is much easier and safer to be authentically you when your inner identity is consistent with dominant cultural norms, and assumptions people make about you.

For example: I present as a modestly dressed, petite Asian woman with glasses. People might expect me to be:

• agreeable (maybe even submissive)
• a little bit foreign, exotic
• neurotypical, able bodied
• cisgender
• most likely heterosexual

But take another look, could I also be the opposite of all those assumptions?

Of course I could.

I navigate my life within the dominant cultural gaze that others hold me in – but that doesn’t mean that I’m unaware of who I am inside, or of the complex interplay between outer and inner identities.

I’m also aware of the very real dangers people face when their inner identities are not safe in the outside world.

And that’s why “authentically you” doesn’t mean just letting it all hang out, come what may.

It just means examining much more closely and consciously the line between the “you” that you feel yourself to be (and can safely honour and nurture) and the “you” that others assume you to be.

Being authentically you is the best gift you can give

Why should you do this?

Because you show up better for people when you are calm, confident and cared-for yourself. And we are the first, best, people to care for ourselves.

So here’s my pitch:

Sit down right now and map out your holiday plans

Feel the feelings (and pay special attention when dread or fear shows up)

Renegotiate – ditch the unnecessary, adjust the plans, make new possibilities … even if that means making new traditions … and show yourself just a little bit of respect…

…

Thanks for reading. I hope you have a wonderful break and before you go, here are handful of extra treats to send you on your way to finding your own best gift.

This poem by Chen Chen: When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities

This little gem of fortune cookie wisdom:

And finally, a throwback, this legendary Spanish J&B Christmas advert from 2022 – about finding the courage to be authentically you, and extending grace and acceptance to others when they do the same.

First published on LinkedIn on 20 December 2024:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/courage-authentically-you-jen-ang-pw7ee/

All kinds of books: fiction, nonfiction, poetry – but especially, banned books.

There are a few reasons for this:

For the love of books

First of all, I love books – and some of you may know or remember that my mother was a college librarian and my father was (for a time) a history lecturer at the same small farming college. This meant that I spent a lot of time in the library as a child – reading, playing, drawing, messing about, and often, falling asleep between stacks of books.

My parents also did not restrict the scope of my reading, in any way – an approach that I now realise was controversial, and one I have maintained in raising my own children. An introverted only child, I read precociously, and voraciously.

It’s true that I read some books that I never should have read, at the age I first encountered them. But it’s also true that reading opened up entirely new worlds to me – other histories, perspectives and experiences that I could never (and can never) make myself, but that fundamentally changed how I saw the world around me, and my place in this world.

Reading is good for you…

The research is not conclusive as to whether reading makes you a better person, but there is solid evidence that reading can not only increase your empathy and make you more altruistic, but can also help you better communicate with others, and navigate tricky social situations in real life.

Also, for me, reading is fun.

I know that not everyone feels this way, and some people really struggle with reading – and that’s okay. When I say “reading” and “books” here, I also mean listening to and watching literary works.

I think the key thing is the immersive experience of throwing yourself into someone else’s imaginary world, emerging into the light, many hours later, astonished, satisfied and …slightly different to who you were before you started.

Dangerous ideas: why we should pay attention when ideas are banned

This week, I taught a class for the University of Glasgow’s Lawyering for Social Justice Clinic on critical theory, including critical race theory.

Critical race theory is an approach to examining law and society from the perspective that racism in society is not just the result of individual bias, but that it is systemic – embedding in law, policies and institutions that uphold and reproduce inequality.

I studied the law in the 1990s at Georgetown University, taught by people like David Cole, Lisa Heinzerling and Gary Peller, through the lenses of critical race theory, as well as feminist theory. Queer theory was not taught when I went to law school, but it, too, is an allied form of critical analysis.

I find the idea that law and society are interlinked to be both self-evidently true, and also kind of uplifting – because it suggests that what has been made, can be un-made and re-made by us all.

The opposite view (that there is no link between institutions and social values) feels both unrealistic and depressing. This view suggests that we experience racism in society because individual people are racist and will forever be, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. I prefer not to live in that world.

Sometimes, I rehearse ideas – running through lectures before I deliver them with family or friends, basically whoever doesn’t get out of the way fast enough

This week, I did a run through with middle daughter (now a teenager) whilst she cooked dinner.

When I finished, I added, “Now if I had been your teacher, and we lived in one of 12 states in the United States, what I have just taught you could result in me being disciplined, maybe fired, and in our entire school being defunded.”

Say what?

It’s true: teaching critical race theory in public K-12 (primary and secondary education) is banned in a number of US states, most recently in the state of Louisiana.

This phenomenon goes hand in hand with a 200% rise in book bans in the US in 2023-24, according to PEN America, “including titles on sexuality, substance abuse, depression and other issues students face in an age of accelerating technologies, climate change, toxic politics and fears about the future.”

With the recent election of Trump to succeed Biden to the US presidency, together with a powerful and growing grassroots campaign to ban a wide range of books in schools and public libraries, it is likely that we will see an increase in banning books and ideas – for the next generation of American children, and maybe also, here in the UK.

Why we should all read banned books

Just to be clear: not all banned books are worth reading.

Some banned books are actually pretty hard going, or badly written, and if you think about it, setting your mind to reading only books banned by people who hate being confronted with different and controversial views is equivalent to taking restaurant recommendations from a frenemy: unclear whether the recommendation will be on point, but definite that they don’t have your best interests at heart!

Having said that, there are an extraordinary number of brilliant and thoughtful books that have been (and are being) banned, and they deserve our attention, especially now.

A story shared, never dies.

There is something disturbing about an attempt to narrow our worldviews by restricting our access to ideas, and the best way to combat that is to keep reading, talking about and sharing those ideas with others.

This year, for middle child’s birthday (who is also a precocious and voracious reader) I’ve bought a series of 24 used classic banned books, and individually wrapped them in brown paper, with a summary highlighting a snippet of plot or content. She can choose to open the all at once, or unwrap one at at time – and it’s okay to share this wee secret with you, because she does not read The Long View

So…

I hope I have made the case for picking up, reading and gifting banned books this holiday break.

If you are looking for a list of great recommendations, here is a short, accessible list from Penguin Random House as well as this longer read in Teen Vogue from independent bookshop owners in the US.

Remember our public libraries! And please, if you do buy books this year, also consider book swaps, buying used books or supporting a great, independent local bookshop like Lighthouse Books in Edinburgh or Housman’s in London.

Here’s a list of Independent Radical Booksellers in the UK – and I would be so pleased if readers would share their favourite controversial reads, the best local bookshops – or just your aspirational to-read list for the holidays … book club is in session!

First published on LinkedIn on 13 December 2024:
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/why-we-should-all-read-banned-books-jen-ang-gapbe