I love the North East, me!

This post and the events behind my writing it come at an interesting time; The Guardian has compared the north east of England to Detroit, the article making derogatory remarks about the area and publishing unflattering photographs.  It’s incredibly easy for anyone not living here to take what’s printed in black and white by people who often haven’t been further north than Birmingham, as gospel.  So many folks out there blindly trust the words of reporters.  They often instinctively choose the newspaper they read every day based on the matching political and moral views of the world.  Most won’t even realise why they’ve chosen the newspaper they have.  Some may even just buy it because, “It’s what my parents read every day”.  How many years has my dad been reading the Daily Express?  To my knowledge he doesn’t even pick up another newspaper unless there’s no alternative, and the only times I’ve seen a variety in his home is when people come to stay and they’ve bought them themselves.

 

It’s a sad state of affairs when people around the world (thanks to the internet) are being told that not only is the North East dilapidated, but its residents are personifying this very state.  I keep hearing that we’re sad and depressed, we’ve given up and we don’t care anymore.  Why should we give a toss if no one else does?

 

Having read the article numerous times while trying not to hunt down the reporter and kick him… hard… I find it difficult to comprehend that the North East is viewed as such a bleak, uninspiring, downright depressing area.  I’ll admit that there are areas that are lacking support, that we often appear to be overlooked for funding and that businesses have closed regardless of which town you focus on, but this is not only what the North East is; it’s also people, love, spirit and passion.

 

There are some quotes within the article that made my blood boil and although I want to address a few of them, this blog post isn’t about picking apart the Guardian article piece by piece.  Plenty of other people have done that already and much more eloquently that I ever could.  But there are some points I feel so strongly about that I can’t ignore them.

 

"It is time to stop pretending that there is a bright future for Sunderland."

Or anywhere, I suppose?  Things start to get tough and we give up?  Really?  That’s the attitude that rebuilt Britain after two World Wars?  The day we give up trying to provide a bright future for our town, cities and the generations to come is a day I hope never happens, and my experience is that we fight harder, we work together and we find the solutions.

 

Of Middlesbrough, "To a visitor, the long, straight streets of the town centre seem eerily empty of pedestrians."

Which Middlesbrough did he visit, I wonder?  Each time I go into Middlesbrough Town Centre the streets are packed with shoppers, and no that’s not only on a Saturday.

 

Harry Pearson commented on, amongst many other things, "...the emptiness of the North York Moors"

Emptiness?  Well no it’s not exactly filled with buildings and bustling crowds otherwise it wouldn’t be the moors!  But it is a stunning natural landscape that offers a peaceful break from the stressful working day and I wouldn’t ever want to be without its splendour.

 

Alex Niven "...it seems absurd to think that Middlesbrough does not have a long-term future.”

It seems absurd to me that anyone would think that Middlesbrough is a dying town.  I live here.  It may not be the most beautiful of places to live, but it’s far from being on its knees and it has many redeeming features.  Open your eyes.

 

Tony Trapp "Persuading clever people from the south to come here is quite hard."

Okay, the gloves are off.  Clever people live in the north east, too.  Clever people are not limited to having grown up and educated in the south of England.  Clever people are everywhere, but those clever people don’t always have degrees and tens of thousands of pounds of student debt.  Some do, and those clever people live in the North East too.    But so many clever people are too often overlooked because they don’t have pieces of paper to prove they’re clever.  Because god forbid a clever person has a northern accent and hasn’t dared to attempt to move to London.

 

Alex Niven: "There is this sort of sadness. It feels like a people who've been weakened, who've just been cut loose." And "The north-east has a brash, confident side. There's also often a sense of slumbering potential, that one day a messiah or a revival will come."

I don’t feel sad about the area.  I feel optimistic about its future because I opened my eyes to the people who are working hard to make things better.  Everywhere I look there are dedicated people giving young people new opportunities, helping independent businesses to open and stay open, supporting charities with their valuable time, and there are positive changes in the landscape and business in the area.  The ‘messiahs’ are already here, they just don’t stand at a podium in overpriced suits making promises they can’t keep.  They toil away making as little noise as possible, and before you realise it something good is happening and you’re reminded once again of how wonderful the North East and its residents are.

 

Now… okay, that’s out of the way I’d like to focus more specifically on this sadness and weakening we’re reported to be suffering from, and I’d like to set the record straight in a very specific way.

 

On Monday evening I attended a public meeting to ‘Save the Regent Cinema’ in Redcar.  Having never been to such a meeting I was a little tentative.  I didn’t know the whole story behind its history or even what the most recent developments were.  All I knew for sure was that the person who runs it, Neil, was struggling, and that for the last few years the building itself looked like it was about to be knocked down or washed away with the tide.  He needed some help.

 

There were some misunderstandings to iron out in the beginning, although one particular councillor was adamant he would repeatedly get his point across about not demolishing the cinema, whilst coming across arrogant and inflammatory throughout almost the whole hour.  To me he unfortunately epitomised the clichéd councillor until the very end of the meeting, when he did finally apologise for his manner to some individuals.  I’m at least grateful for the fact that I witnessed one such apology, because it restored some of my faith in councillors still being human.

 

What the meeting did show me was what I already knew; that the residents are passionate about their area.  They care about the heritage and the people who tirelessly work to keep such buildings and facilities open.  There was indeed heated debate at times and it occasionally felt unnecessary, but to the individuals speaking the raised voices were born of a real passion for the building they were trying to save for future generations.  They cared.  If nothing else was obvious at that meeting, I walked away knowing that Redcar has a core of people who want their town to be nurtured and built upon, and looked after with positive direction and a gentle hand.

 

The Regent Cinema stands alone on the seafront, its façade worn and tired but that will change thanks to promises from the council to find ways to help Neil with the maintenance; a more flexible contract, perhaps, but definitely a new canopy.  It was encouraging to hear the councillor admit that the Regent was at the “end of the regeneration line”.  Those precise words.  For someone to finally acknowledge what we already knew, that the cinema had damn near been forgotten amongst the big plans for the seafront, was worth the trip to the meeting in itself.

 

The lovely Regent sits with the gorgeous coastline as its backdrop.  I can look at the cinema today and see its beauty and the memories that lie within it; it doesn’t need a coat of paint for me to see its value and I’m clearly not alone.  Eventually though, I have confidence that when scanning the lovely new seafront with its crisp, new seawalls, big comfy shelters, fountains for playtime and the Beacon, that one day the Regent Cinema will fit.  It will once again look comfortable amongst its new surroundings and stand proud, just as it should.

 

It’s true that a multiplex cinema is being discussed at the site of the Coatham Bowl, and yes this will pose a risk for the Regent’s future, but only if it stands still.  Many possibilities were discussed for the future of the building in the event of a multiplex cinema being built, and people clearly want to find ways to not just keep it, but to make it ‘the place to be’ in Redcar.  I sat listening to the ideas and loved the enthusiasm behind them.  People spoke of its history and importance in their upbringing, and how much the grandchildren like going to see films there.  One lady remembered tap dancing on the stage while it was still a theatre.  Did you know it originally opened as a skating rink?  And apparently Clark Gable even sold kisses there to raise money for the war effort.

 

The Regent holds a special place in many people’s hearts and their eagerness to help Neil keep it running, in whatever guise, was uplifting.  I have no doubt that if nothing else, Neil could walk away that evening knowing that he’s not alone.  He has support, some new friends, and a lot of people passing on their contact details to help in absolutely any way they can to help secure the Regent’s future.

 

My little corner of the North East is loved.  It’s truly loved.  There will always be some people who do it down, who complain that it’s not what it used to be, and these people seem to have an inane ability to ignore all the good things their town has to offer them.  I’m convinced that these same people don’t see the good because they don’t want to see it, but from what I witness day after day they’re in the minority.  And we should remember that these pockets of people who are so sad and disheartened about their lives and the area they live in can be found in every town, city and even village, regardless of their position on a map.

 

Whether I’m sat in a public meeting to help save a beautiful cinema, at Stockton Town Choir singing my heart out, walking along Redcar seafront watching the families playing or just sat on a park bench watching the world go by, I can feel how much the area is loved.  Councils are working harder to improve facilities, grants are being won to restore buildings (The Globe in Stockton being a big one), people are finding ways to help their communities, others are finding inclusive and impressive ways to remember our fallen ancestors, some are opening new, independent businesses in previously abandoned shops, and so much more.

 

And let’s not forget the wider area.  How much do I love being able to jump in the car, drive for ten minutes and be in the North Yorkshire moors or by the stunning coastline?

The North East is beautiful.  Northerners are (mostly!) friendly with a wicked sense of humour.  Yesterday I walked past a complete stranger in the warm sunshine and he boldly and brightly smiled and said, “stunning day!”  When did that last happen in London?  Don’t get me wrong, I love London; it has a huge amount to offer, but my experience is that it’s cold and impersonal.

 

I live in the North East because I love it.  I’ve lived here for all but two of my thirty-nine years.  One day I might decide I’d like to try living elsewhere, but quite honestly I can’t imagine a day when that will happen.

 

I’m surrounded by people who see our area for what it is; warm, beautiful and welcoming.  Yes, it has its struggles like anywhere else but we’re not blind to the big picture.  We are clever people who work hard to improve our environment, our lives and those of the people around us.

 

And regardless of where I stand, our big picture here in Teesside is bloody gorgeous!

 

 

366 Days of Kindness and more

He doesn’t remember it, but on one gloriously sunny day at a barbeque at dad’s, a half-cut uncle nudged me and said, “You’re a bit bloody miserable on Facebook aren’t you?!”  I sat there stunned for a second then began to defend myself.  I didn’t think I was being particularly negative; I was simply putting a few thoughts out there.  Or that’s what I believed at the time.  I read back over a few months of status updates and gradually realised with horror that he was right; I was miserable.  Almost every update was depressing.  That day I vowed to lighten the frig up!  I mean, we all have our problems, right?  We all need support and a friendly ear to listen sometimes but at some point I’d lost the joy in my life and I hadn’t even noticed it happening.

 

That day was a long time ago, probably more than two years, and even now I occasionally kick myself when I post anything that seems like self-obsessed, depressing crap.  I’m a little harsh on myself, I know, and that spans most aspects of my life.  It’s a hard habit to break after so many years.  When I mentioned this to my sister recently she suggested that I’m only human, and we all need support sometimes.  I know that posting a few updates that amount to “I feel sad” isn’t something I should feel obliged to apologise for, and yet the urge still comes over me and I can’t help myself.

 

When I first started this blog in March 2013 it was to try to counteract the increasing negativity and nastiness on the internet and in the world around me.  After my own little revelation and having finally grown accustomed to focussing more on the positive and happy things surrounding me, I grew tired of reading other people’s status updates, tweets and articles that were depressing, angry, cruel, inflammatory, gratuitous and… well just complaining for the sake of it, and too often about things that haven’t happened yet and might not even happen at all.

 

Lately I’ve realised that the blog is beginning to morph into an extended status update, and there are times that I’ve posted about things that have or are happening to me perhaps as a method of working through it.  All too often I don’t realise I feel a certain way about a problem until I write it down, and I’ve written poems, fiction, articles, reviews and streams of consciousness since I was 11 or 12 years old.  For me writing is cathartic; a valuable tool that helps me to gain perspective and find my way through problems when I either feel I don’t have someone to turn to, or don’t feel comfortable discussing whatever the heck is getting me down.

 

It’s true that when I post on the blog about such things that I try to turn it around into something positive, but it doesn’t always work.  Now I think it’s about time this H.A.P.P.Y. blog returned to its roots.  It’s time to look on the bright side again, to look for the good, the positive, the happy and sunny, the silver linings.  It’s also time to create more!

 

Months ago I booked my ticket to go see 366 Days of Kindness and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.  It’s a show about one woman who, after the London riots in 2011 vowed to do one act of kindness every day.  She wanted to make the world a nicer place and by the end of last night’s show I truly believe she has and will continue to do so.

 

Listening to her reasoning behind her decision I realised that we’re not so different.  I’ve harped on about doing random acts of kindness over the last couple of years.  It’s true that I never made the decision to do one thing every day for a stranger, and if I had a hat I’d take it off to Bernadette Russell, the lovely lady who made it her mission to brighten someone’s day every day for a year.  She has more strength and ingenuity than I, and most certainly more money considering how much she’ll have spent over that time purely on her acts of kindness!

 

I’ve never made the decision to specifically make strangers smile rather than family or friend; I only made the decision to try to make people’s lives a little nicer regardless of who they are.  I don’t have a lot of possessions and I like it that way.  I choose not to be surrounded by ‘stuff’ for the sake of it, so grand, expensive gestures just weren’t going to feel right.  I also don’t have a lot of money to burn, so at least half of the things I do for others don’t involve buying things, and when I do spend money it’s not usually much.  Here are some of my examples.

 

·         Yesterday I was in the WRVS shop where I work and I saw the fingers of Fudge on the shelf.  I instantly thought of an ex-colleague and friend who so often bought them for himself at lunchtime, so I decided to buy one and I posted it to his new workplace with a short note just to say hello, I thought of you today and wanted you to enjoy this.

 

·         Again yesterday, not at all planned, at the end of 366 Days of Kindness I wanted to buy Bernadette’s wonderful book for my nieces but didn’t have enough money.  Then I remembered that I had a little chocolate egg in my bag from earlier that day.  It was to be my treat at the end of the evening, but instead I gave it to Bernadette.  Just because.

 

·         On 20 March both this year and last (International Day of Happiness), I wrote letters or cards to family and friends to say how much they’re appreciated and loved.  Sometimes it was only a few words to remind them of their strength and courage, their capacity for spreading joy to others or to simply say, “Thank you for being you”.

 

·         Sometimes when I park the car I put some extra money in the parking meter so the next person can get free parking.

 

·         I randomly leave small treats (usually chocolate, because who doesn’t love chocolate?!) in the staff room at work with a note for someone, anyone, to take it.

 

·         When I’ve finished reading a book I enjoyed but know I’m unlikely to read again, I’ll attach a note asking someone to take it home and enjoy it, then to pass it on to someone else.  I’ll leave the book in a public place; a coffee shop, a changing room or a park bench for a random stranger to find.

 

·         Sometimes I bake cakes and pastries for people.  I’ll take them to work or choir and just leave them on a table for people to help themselves.

 

These are all small gestures aimed at simply making people’s day a little brighter, and they cost very little.  But there’s something else I do that costs nothing.  When I first made the decision it was about a shift in attitude and it took some discipline most of the time, but it became easier and easier until it’s now mostly a natural way to be.  I do still have to pinch myself occasionally as a reminder, usually when I’m having a bad day, but most of the time it’s simple…

 

Regardless of who I’m faced with; who’s serving me at a supermarket till, who’s crossing the road ahead of me, who’s sat at the next table in the coffee shop, who’s passing me in the corridor at work, who’s forgotten to say thank you when I held the door open, who’s taken the last caramel slice, who’s just nipped in and taken my parking space, who’s let the door slam in my face, who’s jumped the queue, who’s driving right up my bumper like they own the road, who’s shouting obscenities from car windows, who’s slamming doors and arguing at 2am while I’m trying to sleep… 1…. breathe… 2…. 3… 4…. breathe…

 

Sigh…

 

All of these people have their own lives and their own problems.  They have illnesses and money worries, they’re lonely or can’t find five minutes peace, they’ve just been dumped, they’ve lost a family member or a pet, they’ve fallen out with family or friends; every person we pass in the street and every person behind closed doors has their own story.  Some stories are more heart-breaking than others, but none will be free from worry and stress.

 

The person who forgot to say thank you when I held the door open might have been thinking their way through a problem at work.  The person who jumped the queue might be running late to catch a bus to go visit their partner or child in hospital.  The person shouting obscenities could be insecure and bullied into it by their ‘friends’.  The person who’s taken my parking space might be so desperate for the toilet that they’re about to make a huge puddle in their car.  The person who’s driving up my bumper like they own the road is a bully regardless of what problems they have, and I will always… ALWAYS… drive slower.  Hey, don’t judge me, we all have our limits!

 

So my decision was to remember that however I feel, the person beside me could feel worse and who am I to add to their irritations and stresses?  This is especially true when I’m at work.  I work in a hospital so the likelihood is that as many as half the people I encounter are patients or visitors, so yes their problems are certainly bigger than mine!  Instead of being grumpy I try to remember to smile, even just the hint of a smile as I walk down the corridor at work, or down to the local shops.  When I say good morning I try not to mumble and I’m as cheerful as possible.  I make the effort to smile at strangers.  I offer my seat to people who look like they need it more than me.  I do this and more not only for them, but for me too.  Being nice to someone whether a stranger or a loved one has its beneficial effects for both parties.  I always feel more positive about myself and my life when I’m more generous in thought and deed towards others.

 

Being nice is infectious.  The person who picked up the book I left behind in the coffee shop might have read it and passed it on, just as I’d hoped.  They might have even done the same with one of their own books.

 

Interestingly and unexpectedly, my life changed the moment my outlook on life and other people changed.

 

When I was posting the miserable Facebook updates I was living with my dad and digging my way out of a lot of debt.  I was unhappy and comfort eating.  I had no confidence and was always the first person to insult me.  I was (happily!) divorced but depressingly dependant on my dad.  I hid myself away in my bedroom with my computer.  I was constantly in pain with my back and increasing health problems.

 

Now I live on my own and have no debt.  I don’t even have a credit card.  I’m happy and eat (mostly) healthily.  I lost more than 6 stone, and although I did put some back on over the last year it’s starting to come off again.  I have a lot more confidence and I’m independent.  I sing in two choirs, I’ve been on TV (on purpose!) and loved the experience, I applied for the Great British Bake Off (unsuccessfully… this time!), I’ve been on stage putting my heart on the line for my dad, I embrace life with enthusiasm and push myself to try things that scare me a little.  I’m still in pain with my back but it’s nothing in comparison to what it was, and through weight loss and increased fitness I’ve significantly improved the symptoms of my other health problems.  I’m happy.

 

This isn’t meant to sound like bragging, I’m only stating facts.  I can recognise that the day I decided to make an effort to see life for the good things, to be nice to other people and see them for just people with their own stories and not label them as ‘bad’, to treat people to kind words, compliments, chocolate treats and books, was the day that I began to turn my own life around.

 

Being kind isn’t difficult.  I actually find that being kind to others is easier than being kind to me, and it’s therapeutic.

 

Sometimes I lose the way a little.  Last night while experiencing (yes, experiencing) 366 Days of Kindness I was reminded full force of all of the above, and it’s given me another little push to do more, be nicer, be more generous in my thoughts and actions and live life with positivity and energy, embrace new experiences and be open to new possibilities and people.

 

Bernadette asks whether we can change the world with kindness.  I say we can, absolutely, even if it’s only one person’s world and only for that day, I truly believe it’s worth trying.

 

Something occurred to me on my way home last night.  If the worst thing people can think to say about me is that I’m nice, I’ll be bloody ecstatic!

 

I hope you can find the time to go to Bernadette’s fab website and visit her on Twitter, I really don’t think you’ll regret it!

 

http://www.366daysofkindness.com

@betterrussell

 

 

The Power Of One

Tonight I had the privilege of going to see One, by Jaye Kearney at Stockton Arc.

Normally for a show like this I try to write something as a little review, but tonight I find myself not at a loss for words, but I simply don't want to do it; I want to keep it for myself and cherish its message.  It feels ever so selfish!

And yet here I sit in my comfy, enveloping armchair in my PJ's, with the TV on in the background (but on silent so I can concentrate on this), the remotes all within reach, a drink beside me and my book to hand.  And I'm writing despite myself.

I have become a creature of habit for the most part, with some unusual comfort-zone-annihilating moments that I will cherish until my last breath, but a creature of habit nonetheless.  I like this.  I like coming home to peace after a long day at work knowing I can sit and read, bake a cake, wrap myself in a duvet and block out the world, watch Sherlock again(!), crochet blankets and Christmas decorations, lounge for two hours in the bath, sing, or any combination of the above without having to think about what anyone else wants or needs.

Being single is a mixed bag of blessings, and desires that often feel entirely out of reach.

I don't like feeling lonely, but being single doesn't mean I hold the monopoly on that.  I felt more lonely while I was married than I ever have since I left ten years ago.  Being single also doesn't mean I sit here and mope the whole time or cry into a vat of gin while trying to shove a kilo of chocolate down my throat in record time (although the chocolate thing may need to be my weekend challenge just for fun!).  I live my life more now than I ever dared to attempt when I was younger.  Perhaps it's down to the inevitable passing of the years, maybe my increased confidence, or even my inability to give a crap what other people think anymore.  Most likely it's a combination of all of the above.

I've had relationships in the last ten years, but it takes such a lot for me to trust people that when I do let someone in he has to be special.  Very special. It took me 38 years to trust myself, but it doesn't feel the same when I hold my own hand or try to hug myself, so I'm learning to let down my guard a little more, then a touch more, just so someone has a fighting chance of breaking through my armour.  It's not that I don't want to let people in.  It's self preservation.

Tonight's show was less a lightbulb moment and more of a reminder of the person I am and the person I want to remain... no, that's no quite right; I want to keep growing, finding new sides to myself I didn't know existed, challenge my inhibitions and learn more and more about myself as I grow older.  Learn about myself in the way a new partner might, perhaps. Be pleasantly surprised with tiny, positive changes and discover that I like things I thought I hated (but not mushrooms, I will always hate mushrooms), and realise one day that I can look in the mirror and not find fault before I leave the house.  Maybe I'll even buy myself an obscenely huge bouquet of flowers just because I love who I am and I deserve to feel special sometimes.

This may all sound like it has nothing to do with the show I enjoyed so much tonight, but it has everything to do with it.  I don't want to sit here and tell you what happened, what made us laugh, what almost made me cry, what made me nod in agreement with the words being spoken.  I would never want to spoil that little but important journey for anyone else going to see it, that's not my style.

One, for me, was a feeling.  It was a reminder to be kind to myself.  It was a nod and smile to everything that has brought me to where I am now in my comfy chair surrounded by my remotes and half finished crochet projects.  It was a poke in the ribs that reminded me I can be me, with no apologies to make to anyone.

One is lovely.  It's sincere and heartwarming.  It's funny and sad. It's delightful.  It's a little gem.  Jaye Kearney treats her audience to an honest performance, and she connects almost immediately and to such a degree that I felt like she was only talking to me.

One is relieved she didn't miss One, because One has given One a good ole kick up the backside and reminded One that she's just fine, thank you very much!