The best faces come when staring bleakly into the worst places... seeking
solace.
The ugly of the reality, of the shape of the corruption and abuse of power we
uncover as we strive to make sense of the seeming idiocy of those imposing on
us ...is sickening. As we question
those in office about the decisions they are making that directly affect our
lives - we are made to hush. As we stand to protect vital resources from
obvious, immediate threat - we are pushed down and arrested away. As we speak
and share and spread truths to those not yet informed - we are shouted down by
over-funded, over-hyped, PR-manipulated BS from Marketing Agencies charged with
masquerading beasts as saviours.
This can’t have just happened; must have been a system
morphing over time from what is perceived as ‘democracy’ to this ugly brute of
bullying hypocrisy that somehow ‘puts us in our place’ – as if such a thing
existed!
I blame our parents… and theirs and theirs and theirs – couldn’t they see this
coming? Didn’t they notice the ebbing away of true human rights and freedoms?
Didn’t they recognize that the gifts of ‘choice’ were myths and treason?
And what are WE now? Are we them? Will our children wear their soft-coated
shackles and thank us for them? If we sit back – don’t act… then we add to the
barbaric attacks on our resources and most of all – our ability to affect our
lives, protect ourselves, stand up for others and play any role in what new
rules are enforced upon us to barricade us out of the way.
It’s been a terrific and horrific journey from Occupy,
through fracking... to here
The terrific is actually more magical than that word explains – my heart is so
damned, ridiculously full it could explode… expanded and nourished by the most
glorious humans I have ever met. I’ve learned more than I thought could be
known, have hugged with true hearts and genuine feeling more than all the rest
of the years of my life and I have never felt more positive about the future –
my faith is beautifully wrapped, intact and makes a map of certainty.
Yeah the awful stuff is happening, threatening, burdening us with dwelling
still in the cold ugly places of faceless, soul-starved corporates… but WE are
there – it isn’t just you or just me holding up a sign… we are tribe!
What now? What next? It's just this moment become 2014 and
it feels like that really matters; feels like we need each and every, single
other... more now than ever before.
19 September 2013 - 18:15 – 00:09 Worlds Collide
Presenting the award at the Be Inspired Business Awards (BIBAs) is an honour I have enjoyed for each of the
past three years; the company I work with (Orbit Internet), is a Sponsor and so
we get to both judge a category and take a table for 10 (though this year
stretched to an enjoyable 13) for what is the closest thing to the Oscars you
can imagine. Blackpool Tower in all its genuinely stunning, Victorian glory –
its ballroom bedecked in gold and light, dark and bright beauteous spaces,
welcoming the hard working, talented, creative and enduring people who power
the businesses of Lancashire.
Categories that honour Best New Business, Small Business of
the Year, Importer of the Year, Exporter of the Year, Most Creative, e-Business
of the Year (our category), Lancastrian of the Year and more; it’s a wonderful
occasion. These awards surprised and delighted me when I first became involved;
I was concerned that it might be a lot of ‘who you know’ rather than how
genuinely worthy you were – I was (happily) completely wrong. From nomination
to final is an arduous journey and those who make it, deserve the
acknowledgement.
I walked on stage to deliver the award to the winning e-Business and was greeted by a very amicable Eamonn Holmes. All sorts of
lovely stuff preceded and followed this, including Matt Cardle singing ‘When we Collide’. This turned out to be virtually prophetic as I rounded the bar area
to find myself smack bang in the middle of a gathering of people who work for
and with shale gas company Cuadrilla and their notorious PR agency PPS. My work
life and activist life rarely have overlap – and this was very surreal. (I am active with Residents Action on Fylde Fracking and am very, very opposed to the shale gas industry’s attempts to impact our region or anywhere).
“What are you doing here?” is what one of the PR guys asked
in a none-too-friendly tone, tinged with discomfort. “I’m a judge.” I said.
At this point I noticed the look on all 10 (or so) faces – maybe
they were thinking I’d infiltrated and was planning to lock-on to someone or
something in some glamorous act of protest? It had crossed my mind when I saw
the table plans a few weeks ago and realised we’d be on opposing balconies– but there was never going to be any risk I’d
do anything at this event. I love the process of this, from the judging to the
big night,where people I respect are
celebrating surviving or thriving another year in a tough economy - this is THEIR night and rightly so. Looking out at it all - I thought how this gorgeous setting was in fact a
huge part of the engine room of Lancashire.
I was angered though to find this awful company attempting
to infiltrate and impact on our world; I know they lie (ASA confirms this with
a ruling that means no-one can sue me for saying that), I know they do not stick to the rules of planning and I know they hire others to try to sway the
community to their way of thinking; not by disclosing honestly, what the impact
of their industry will be on Lancashire (and the rest of the country as air and
water respect no county boundaries) but by using propaganda techniques and bribery (although they call it sponsorship or community contributions).
As I
watched in awe at the brilliance of this room and the many people I respect who
were in it – I glanced across to the opposite balcony and hoped that this was
the last time I would have to see them trying to ‘do business’ here.
20 September 2013 - 00:16 – 00:17 That Isadora Duncan Moment
We’d left promptly as my (too rarely told how much I admire her) sister Julie, insisted I get off the dance floor and
into a cab as we had too little time for sleep before the 6:18 train from
Blackpool. I reluctantly dragged myself from the fun I was having, got into the
cab and we set off. We’d gone perhaps a couple of metres when two things
happened seemingly simultaneously – my ribs contracted and a man threw himself at
my passenger window. The cab stopped and I breathed to re-inflate my ribs that
had been crushed by the contracting bodice of my dress - this the result of the
ribbon being caught in the wheel of the cab. Every one of the loops on one side
(where the ribbon threaded} was torn but that was thankfully the worst of the
outcomes.
20 September 2013 - 00:18-00:30 Revelations
My waist hurts, I’m a bit chilly (dress barely on) but relieved I have a wrap
for dignity and I’m thinking about this thing called ‘activism’ that seems like
it has to be a whispered subject when I go about my actual job (writing and
helping businesses to more effectively use social media). Sure I bring it up
with people I work closely with or see regularly and the media coverage of the
anti-fracking movement ensures that most people know I have this ‘other life’
where I sometimes sleep in a tent and hold a banner ...but it is still a definitely
separate thing.
Sometimes the contrasts catch me by surprise as I never really
think of work and activism in the same breath... but tonight I sensed the
overlap and the reason it should; it isn’t just the rigs, threats, harms and
pollutants I want to keep out – I don’t want these bad-business people doing
business here. I don’t think they suit Lancashire (or anywhere that decent
people exist).The communities I move
in, in business and activism are amongst the most important parts of my life
and I genuinely enjoy, respect and care for the people I am fortunate enough to
spend time with... they should not have Cuadrilla, iGas or any of the others in
their lives.
20 September 2013 - 00:30-05:00 Sleep
Although room a bit spinny as I am useless at drinking - yet gave it a bit of a
go this evening.
20 September 2013 - 05:00-05:55 Dress & Pack Dress (+ needle & thread)
Jeans and a sweater on, gorgeous gown in a bag and repair materials packed we
head off to the train
20 September 2013 - 05:55-11:03 Trains From B to B
Blackpool to Brighton passed with a lot of sewing to get each loop threaded back
into the bodice so I could again wear the dress for what promised to be a
funact of protest called ‘Frocking not Fracking’. Friends of the Earth had arranged an action to coincide with Women’s
Day at the Labour Party Conference and wanted it to focus on Women Vote NO to
Fracking.... there are a lot of powerful female voices in this movement and it
was a great idea to pull some together. In the final 15 minutes of the
journey a quick change in the loo led to perplexed expressions in the train carriage
– populated mainly by Bolton football supporters.
20 September 2013 - 11:03-18:15 Honk To Support!
Music, singing, gorgeous others and a real sense of fun made the day an
absolute pleasure. We women gathered outside the Hilton where most of the
Labour Party meetings for Women’s Day were happening – one of our signs asked
passing drivers to ‘Honk for Support!’ and so very many did. A policeman tried
to say we should move back away from the edge of the pavement (where drivers were honking support) – but most of us are ‘veterans’ of the Balcombe CommunityProtection Camp in West Sussex, where for over 7 weeks, protectors have slept
at the roadsides in tents and got up each weekday to slow the onslaught of
trucks (swathed in police) and delay this industry as best we can... till enough people are
informed and sanity prevails – so we really had no intention of doing what we
were told on this gentle day, without a fine legal reason.
The Hilton itself was rather kind as we went in to sit for coffee –
unlike most protests, we were beautifully over-dressed and they couldn’t seem
to find a reason to ask us to leave and told us we were the nicest protesters
they had met. Many excellent conversations with Councillors and others were
had, thanks to the keen eye of Helen of Friends of the Earth – she can spot a
key person miles off and is so well-informed. Plans were made, networks hugely expanded and resources shared.
Finale... Day done, dress off, jeans on and a ludicrously long
journey home to discover the joy of remaining horizontal for a full 12 hours.
There are media demands that go alongside activism and most of them sadly, are truly unpleasant - this however was a relaxed and enjoyable interview with Dave Hampton of Marlow FM.
From his link: [A chance to listen again to the Watt Next "Fracking Special" back in July. You heard it here first on Marlow FM. Great show, though I say it myself, and great content 39 mins in with Tina Louise-uk
Today was the day that the press release came out announcing
that an event originally scheduled to take place at West Burton Power Station –
would now be held in Balcombe, West Sussex. The event is ‘Reclaim The Power’
and it will now join ‘The Great Gas Gala’ in this welcoming, beautiful village
in West Sussex; the current frontline of the stand against a relatively new form of ‘unconventional’ energy extraction, fracking for shale gas. The opposition to 'unconventionals' is based on overwhelming reports of harm by this industy from America, Australia and more.
Now on day 13, The Great Gas Gala has brought together
villagers as well as concerned UK residents from across the country, to camp at
the roadside entrance to a drilling site where exploration for gas and oil is
being undertaken by Cuadrilla Resources (Chairman Lord John Brown). More than 30
arrests, insane amounts of police brutality and so, so many attempts at
halting, slowing or even slightly delaying the trucks that deliver the
equipment, have broken hearts and strengthened resolve.
The numbers on the roadsides vary from 100-350 depending on
the time and day and although these wonderful, dedicated souls are enduring
beautifully...
... it can’t go on, they need help
In a democracy, we would have the ear of those in office and
the village vote of 80% AGAINST the drilling, would count for something; that it
doesn’t... matters, maybe as much as the insistence by those in office that we
accept this dirty, risky business on our land.
I have been in Balcombe over the past two weekends and feel
no need to justify the reason the camp exists or explain the respect these
people deserve – surely, this is obvious? Some of the mainstream media don’tsee it this way but the mainstream media is out of step with reality on too
many things for this to have been unexpected. 'Activism' is not a lifestyle
choice – it is an obligation by those who see a wrong and act to correct it.
A phone call had alerted me to an upcoming meeting where the possibility of
moving the Reclaim the Power event to Balcombe was being discussed. It was made
clear that the event would not come to Balcombe uninvited and people involved
wanted to talk to villagers and ask their views; as I was going to the site and
had met some of the warm, friendly (feisty!) villagers, I was asked to arrange a get-together with some of them.
I was so very torn
The people I know from Reclaim the Power are exemplary - I
trust those I know implicitly and am certain of their right, just and
appropriate intent - but I still did not really know how I would feel if I were
a villager of Balcombe, if I was presented with this. A night of long pondering followed
until I got it down to two simple and unavoidable choices I thought the villagers faced:
-accept that Cuadrilla WILL drill because they clearly have
the power to wrap our laws and law-enforcement around their machinery in order
to ensure they are not stopped
~ OR ~
-accept the powerful offer of help from a dedicated, well-organised group of determined people that comes with unknowns... a large number of people, living together in
tents, performing acts of civil disobedience and having to confront the law,
does not come without incidents. BUT ...a large number of people, living
together in tents, performing acts of civil disobedience and confronting
Cuadrilla - is probably the ONLY thing that stands a chance right now.
On Saturday, as 120 villagers walked into the camp, singingnew words to Jerusalem, smiling broadly and adorned with children – there was
no more beautiful sight; it followed though on the heels of countless vile
incidents of police brutality in defence of Cuadrilla vehicles in the preceding
days. This contrast of idyllic village life and ugly confrontation is a stark
and raw vision of light and dark, right and wrong, good and bad.
A showdown is imminent, inevitable and so horrid that I want
to get under the duvet, pretend it all away and not come out till it somehow
just stops being a fact. It’s the heaviest feeling knowing that IF we don’t
stop Cuadrilla in Balcombe that not only do we put our air, water and health at
serious risk – but that any ideas about living in a democracy, are just fantasy.
The power of those with financial interests in this industry, over our
government - is evidenced beyond doubt and obvious with every policy decision
made by those in office.
IF we tolerate this – then we accept we have no voice
I watched a cluster of smiling women from different walks of
life, discuss feelings about relocating Reclaim the Power to Balcombe’s Great
Gas Gala and thereby infusing it with many hundreds more people; video and notes
from this meeting of villagers and visitors
from Reclaim the Power went to a meeting of those involved in the event and today’s press release is the outcome.
Reclaiming the power ...means more than sane energy decisions
Change is already happening in Balcombe, not just this stand
the villagers are making or the camp that is growing but the realisation of another
reality that comes with each arrest, each ignored vote, each rejected petition,
each un-heeded planning objection, each ignorant political response,
each ill-informed Councillor, each revelation of powerful lobbyists in OUR
government, each divisive headline in the press and each and every moment... that
what we KNOW to be true, is hidden from view.
IF the drill at Balcombe is not stopped, it will do its job
on West Sussex then return to Lancashire for more of the same – I live in
Blackpool, where the drill is due next - so I know what I would choose, if I were a
Balcombe villager.
~The best-ever chocolate brownies - made with beetroot!
~Villagers singing new
words to Jerusalem whilst making the most fabulous entrance since Liberace
created the genre.
~The little girl in the prettiest blue flamenco dress who
seemed puzzled when I said so - she corrected me, saying that actually she was dressed
as water.
...The police officer grinding the young man’s elbow into the gravel and
dragging it so it ripped the skin away – even though he was being held down by
so many, that he posed no risk.
~New friends, old friends, virtual-friends (made flesh) and fresh new smiles met.
~The emergence within just a few hours of a fully decorated lounge/family-room with
carpets, sofas, a candelabra and idyllic families to populate it.
~The feasts of vibrant, fresh, local produce along
with brilliant cooks that all seemed to appear as if by magic when hunger
struck.
...The panicked smile on the young
girl’s face as she was held aloft by her arms, legs and hair by police officers
treating her as if she was a weapon-carrying threat to all in the vicinity.
~The early morning "Good mornings" from smiling faces, en-route to and in the kitchen area; as we all avoided looking at the kettle for fear it actually would never boil.
~The late night talk and laughter as the day was digested into conversation with
heaps of humour to season it.
~The easy, natural hugs that occur between
strangers and friends with shared purpose and intent.
...The tears of frustration
and screams of “SHAME ON YOU!” that came from me, without my control as we
stalked the circles of police that wrapped round painful scenes too ugly to be viewed - too wrong to be tolerated.
~The schemes and plans that bubbled up through the hours as we 10 of us sat in
traffic on the bus from the ‘Unloved, Desolate North’ to reach 'The Great Gas
Gala of Balcombe'.
~The goodbye that was positively regal as we headed off to the
sounds of whoops, well-wishes, whistles and chants and the sight of warm,
smiling faces that just looked like reason to go on with all this.
~The superb certainty of a return to this place and awareness/relief/gratefulness that others with honour are doing what's necessary.
...The ache
inside that is the true, deep and inescapable reality of the threat from
this ugly business - and knowing, we MUST stop it.
