Feeling a bit ova-cum: vaginas on my mind

For various reasons, vaginas have been on my mind a lot recently. I realise I'm laying myself open (arghh, will everything I write now be a pun??) to all sorts of lesbian jokes by saying this, but it's true. And they've mostly been on my mind due to work, health, and politics, rather than sex. Sorry. To be honest, if I'm thinking about sex, 'vagina' is not one of the words that springs to mind. It's an important word; it's a heavily politicised word; but, it's not exactly a sexy word, is it? See Caitlin Moran for a full debate on the topic. Actually, just read How to be a Woman (just being published in the US, so having a little publicity revival) - the whole thing. It's ace. An important tome for our time. And not scared to talk about vaginas (and feminism). As Moran succinctly puts in: 

Do you have a vagina? And Do you want to be in charge of it? If you said 'yes' to both then, congratulations! You're a feminist. 

I'm a feminist. And I can say the word VAGINA loud and clear quite happily. And have been a lot recently (in fact, I used the word 'trans-vaginal' in front of my house-mate yesterday, prompting her to cover her ears run from the room). But, for me, sex is about more than just anatomy; so, for now, let's leave sex by the door and enter the semantic cavern of the v-jj without the innuendo. 

So, why the vagina craze? Why now? Well, I'm sure it won't have escaped your politically-engaged notice that about a month and a half ago Vaginagate hit our headlines, when Michigan Democrat's Lisa Brown got banned from speaking on the House floor for using the (oh so very offensive) word VAGINA when discussing a bill on abortion . How very dare she use the anatomically correct word whilst discussing women's rights over their own bodies! Shocked at this ridiculous reaction, Brown then went on to perform The Vagina Monologues, with Eve Ensler, on the steps on the state's capital building in Lansing, and gave her own vagina monologue in The Guardian. Then we've also got the Pussy Riots, a Russian punk band who are facing trial after being charged with hooliganism, and imprisoned for the last five months, following their performance of a protest song in Moscow's main cathedral.

I've also been trying to find an appropriate title for a publication by one of the organisations I work for. And hit a big hymen-esque wall over who is happy to have the word 'Vagina' in the title. Thus, in an effort to placate (PlaKATE - what can I say? I'm a people-pleaser) everyone, I've been exploring other vag-themed alternatives. Any pun on labia, vulva, fanny, cunt, twat, fandango, clitoris, womb, ovum, uterus, vag....umm lady-garden....I can think of (although lots of people sadly have lady-patios, and if we're going down that path - or fallopian tube -  then surely we need to get the word 'merkin' in there somewhere?). Today I was sitting on the bus and had to google 'A Womb of One's Own' to confirm my suspicions that it will definitely have been used before (it has, of course), trying not to list all the various shit euphemisms I can think of for vagina out-loud. As Kylie would say, I can't get them out of my head. THE VAGINAS ARE TAKING OVER. Except they're not, 'cos just saying the word is enough to get you gagged in politics, and just having one is enough to mean you get paid less. They're not taking over, and that's not what feminism wants: we just want a fair deal, fair rights, equal pay, laws that give us the right to decide what happens to our bodies, a world without genital mutilation or sexual violence (against anyone, not just women)...

So, if you want to make a subtle(ish) hint in the board room, or fancy posting a package to a political leader or two, I'd recommend bringing in some cakes (as befits our gender), or subtly doing your nails (all women are good for), and seeing if they get the message. 

Vagina cupcakes

Vagina nail art, I stole from Miss Fox's blog

All that said, however, I don't want any ladies to leave feeling down about their vaginas. If you are, just take a moment to appreciate your vagina - we're not all lucky enough to have one; think of the poor mermaids....

'I salute your wrangling of the sex mad future of this country', or: What do you do for a living?

So, what do you do for a living? The ultimate dinner party question. One which I imagine one in five of the under 25 year olds of this country dread being asked. Let's not be so snobbish as to assume that just because they are unemployed they don't go to dinner parties. Or perhaps they're asked it over the sticky plastic table top of Maccy-D. Or it's shouted over the vibrations of heavy synth. Whichever. Stuck in the neo-libralist spiral of the free-market and omnipresent media, where worth is measured by economic contribution and the stock-piling of possessions (if you'll excuse my ranty lefty rhetoric), many adults (and thus god help the 'young adult') feel that they are defined by their job. Don't have a job, enjoy a liminal identity and the pity or judgement of the questioner. Miss Fox wrote a little bit about this a while ago; as she said: I read an interesting article in Stylist magazine about how people who lose their jobs can feel like they’ve lost their identity. That’s sort of how I’m feeling – almost like a non-person. My generation was told that we could do or have anything if we worked hard enough for it, and now, of course, there are many of us in the situation where we have put in the time and effort, and taken on huge debts, only to find out that we’ve been rather misled. Or fucked-in-the-ear, as I prefer. 

As Paul Mason puts it: 'the human expression of a broken economic model'. No wonder the Common People feel Gideon wants to make 'an unemployment figure of you!'

'I'm a Thatcherite; I'm out of control!' 

Ooops, I've gone off on a bit of a tangent again. Tangents are one of my favourite things, as you may have spotted. And parentheses. And puns. I'm a good-time-girl, what can I say?

Anyway, back to the opener - the uber-key question: WHAT DO YOU DO? Recently when people have asked me this, I have found myself making a quick decision regarding whether they a) actually want to know, b) might be remotely interested, and c) I can be bothered to explain (and since I love talking about my work, 'c' is time-related practicality rather than an apathy issue). The real question is: Do I just say, 'Drama teacher'? I do, sometimes. It's not a lie; I am a Drama teacher. I just have about nine other jobs too. So, I've experimented a bit.... My most common - and reasonably thorough - is: 'I teach Drama and creative writing to hard-to-reach community groups, and also do sort-of PSHE-ish education stuff, about health and sex and that, in schools'. The 2012 version of my standard, 'in prisons and shit' of 2010 whenever I was trying to explain what I was doing with my life and my degree. 

My 'PSHE-ish' repertoire (Personal, Social, Health Education, for those of you who have avoided schools ever since you legally could) has expanded recently, as I have delivered my first sessions for Cragrats and Family Lives. Enterprise education in Sutton Coldfield (with a delightful night at the North Birmingham Premier Inn and many hours worth of a car full of actors in their late 20s singing 80's power ballads) with the former, and South Croydon far too early in the morning, with a room full of 12 year olds discussing sexting with the latter. Leading a friend to grace me with the compliment found in the title of this post. 

I'm glad it's the weekend, to tell the truth. And that rarely happens (pop psychology explanation of my historic fear of weekends must be saved for another occasion - I need my beauty sleep now). But it turns out freelancing my arse off round London can be bloody tiring. Especially when it involves throwing juggling balls at drug addicts, telling teenage boys how smoking will effect their erections, and pretending to be a penguin with young refugees. What do you do??! Ummm... I'm a Drama teacher...sort of....

3FF 15th Anniversary

BBC report on the Three Faith Forum's (3FF's) 15th anniversary:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio/player/b01jqb8h

Start listening at 07.17 to hear a bot more about what one of the organisations I work for does in schools, including a little bit from Andrew Cobson, chief exec of the British Humanist Association, who reinforces how important it is to be fully inclusive of people with non-religious beliefs in interfaith dialogue (and how well 3FF does this).

Enjoy!

Oh, and here's me on the day, with the BEST class I think I've ever taught for the 3FF - they were so good! And one boy (HILARIOUS) was obviously secretly trying to out-do another boy in the class by using long words and echoing some of my speech patterns, to try and look clever, and he said: 'I find her talk very voluptuous'. I have no idea what he was trying to say, but it was TOO FUNNY. 'Gifted and talented' and precocious, apparently... Voluptuous. He wasn't even trying to be sexually intimidating (which I did experience in a different boys Catholic school). The teacher and I had a private giggle at the end of the class.  Mrs Malaprop o'clock.

Continuing my education...#2

It feels like a long time since my November post where I quietly lamented the end of my full-time education. Well, I suppose it actually feels like about seven months. Approximately. Despite June currently disguising itself as March.

Paulo Friere - Brazilian educator and theorist 

I can, however, sleep a little easy in the knowledge (knowledge, yay KNOWLEDGE!) that I have done some educationing; for work I've obviously done some educating - when I have been the educator - but I have also been the educatee, engaging in learning of my own. Now, I'm with Paulo Friere on not being a passive vessel and all that (which makes a link to his wikipedia page have a beautiful sort of irony, dontcha think?), but sometimes passive is about all I can muster. Particularly after a hard day of throwing juggling balls at drug addicts. So, please forgive me if I admit I've been doing some knowledge-receiving on my back. No, that is not any form of sexual allusion. The beast with two backs can stay well out of it. No, no, no.

F.M. Alexander

Basically, I have been learning the Alexander Technique a bit recently, and have thus been doing some lying down homework, where I let my spine chillax. Anyway, apparently the spine takes 17 minutes to properly elongate and spread out and stuff (you can tell I'm quite the scientist, can't you?), SO I've seen this as a splendid opportunity to use the time to expand my spine AND my horizons. I have thus been trying to listen to one TED talk a day, during this time. Now, if you're not familiar with the fucking brilliance that are TED talks, TED (technology, entertainment, design) is a nonprofit devoted to 'Ideas Worth Spreading', and basically consists of all manner of people giving short lectures on all manner of things (a bit like the School of Life, who do wicked sermons - and which is also brilliant and should be checked out if your world has not yet been improved by it). TED do two conferences a year, which are uber expensive to attend; however the best of the lectures are then broadcast online for the world to see. They describe themselves thus:

TED is best thought of as a global community. It's a community welcoming people from every discipline and culture who seek a deeper understanding of the world.

Yesterday, whilst I was doing the washing up (a ridiculous task in itself, as our kitchen sink has been broken for about two months - but you don't want to hear all about that; you are best kept out of my silent, inexorable rage against our landlady), I listened to Julian Baggini: Is there a real you?  It's not my favourite TED talk so far, but it does fit in very, very nicely with the theme of the article I recently wrote on story and well-being/identity (see 'Once upon a Friday'). So here's a bit of Baggini for you. And I urge you to check out some more of the TED talks. You'll well impress people at dinner parties....

H.M.P.

How better to celebrate the sixty joyous years of Elizabeth II's reign (I really want someone to work out how many days in that time it has actually rained - HOMOPHONE-BASED PUN!), than to reflect on the theatrical goings-on going on with certain gentlemen detained at the pleasure, or otherwise, of her maj? Actually, bearing in mind that to hold one prisoner for a year, it costs around £41,000, and the cost of each new prison place is £170,000 to build and maintain (apologies for 2010 statistics - lazy googling - please leave more update ones in the comment box if you have them to hand), I'd imagine it's not really at the pleasure of anyone. I mean, the only people who might be pleased about the number locked up (Hello, Mr Daily Mail bigot, sorry, I mean reader - OK, my political leanings and tabloid feelings aren't all that subtle) are the ones who think that the cost could be halved if we only could give them bread and water, cut the testicles off the paedophiles and have jolly well done with it. And god forbid we do DRAMA with them. Rehabilitation [scoff]? The only thing it might do is turn them into homosexuals, and then we really WILL need to rehabilitate them. OK, I'm sorry for the slight deviation (I'd never survive on 'Just a Minute'. And, yes, I am 24. And, yes, I am cool.), but I must just quickly further digress and point anyone who's never come across it in the direction of the Daily Mail-o-matic, a gorgeous little website which generates Daily Mail headlines, based on the most frequent words used, e.g.   

HAVE LESBIANS MOLESTED BRITAIN'S SWANS?

or

ARE IMMIGRANTS GIVING COMMON SENSE AND DIGNITY CANCER?

Oh, and if you haven't seen it, you also HAVE to watch The Daily Mail Song, by DAN & DAN:

Wow, I'm really heading off topic. Sorry. It's just I saw first-hand the impact of Jack Straw's dickish Prison Service Instruction in 2009, which stated that 'activities for prisoners' must be 'appropriate, purposeful and meet the public acceptability test', and we knew at the time what that meant, and who that public was. So shitting on the Daily Mail is actually less off topic than might be first conceived. I could totally argue my point to Nicholas Parsons....

ANYWAY, to try and back-track my way into a finished paragraph: I thought I would celebrate the Jubilee by waxing jubilant about some prison theatre I've been to in recent weeks. Most recently, on Wednesday night, just a couple of days ago, I saw an AMAZING performance of Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross; a play I had, to my shame, seen neither on stage or screen before this week. The production was put together by Synergy Theatre Project, a company I have much admiration for in their work to rehabilitate through the transformative power of theatre.

I have now seen a number of productions in various prisons across the country, and each one has its own cause for celebration, reflection and admiration. What struck me most about Synergy's production this week, however, was the enormous talent of the men performing. I know from first-hand experience that the standard of the performances in prisons and the talent amongst the cast is not to be under-estimated, or dealt with patronisingly, however the cast of Glengarry this week were probably the most talented I've so far seen behind locked doors. Not out of place in one of our top national theatres. 

The other prison excursion I haven't quite got round to writing about on here yet is The Accidental Imposter in HMP Winchester, by Playing for Time Theatre Company, which I saw a few weeks ago. Also a fantastic production, it was very reminiscent for me of The Government Inspector (which I co-directed there in 2010), no doubt due to the overt themes of deception, crime and punishment, and corruption at its heart. With fantastically original use of multi-media throughout the production, by the talented LaunchPad Productions, it was great to see such innovative use of film employed throughout. Despite this, I personally hope next year the company think about returning to their more traditional theatrical roots, with a play set in a very different historical moment, like they did with Oh What a Lovely War! and The Convict's Opera. Just personal preference. 

Nonetheless, they all did Her Majesty proud. 

Don't be so gay

With same sex marriage a hot political topic in the UK and the US, not to mention some very concerning legislature on the horizon in the Ukraine, issues around homosexuality are getting quite a bit of press at the minute (which reminds me - I still need to read and respond to the government's consultation before 14th June). I particularly enjoyed Victoria Coren's Why love trumps economics in last week's Observer; not only for its ideological argument, but also for the paragraph that ran: They [those in the Tory party revolted by the idea of gay marriage] know better than to reveal the full terrifying vision of social collapse that a gay wedding triggers in their minds: a church full of crop-haired anarchists, most of them speaking foreign languages; teenagers snorting heroin off the altar, most of them on Facebook; women publicly breastfeeding in the pews, most of them bishops; two newlywed drag queens high-fiving as a vicar in hotpants says: "You may now fist the bride."  Reading this on the train on the way back from a Northern socialist wedding (more a call to arms than celebration of romantic feeling; the groom's speech fleetingly referred to his wife before tackling the deficit, tax-avoidance and bankers' bonuses, before seguing nicely into a ceilidh), it also prompted an interesting discussion with my (straight) identical twin, over her feelings of the importance of marriage reforms for straight couples who don't want to get 'married', but instead want a 'civil partnership', to make things truly equal. Equality is a strange pigeon, as my girlfriend would say.

But, closer to home, I've been pretty frustrated recently (to put it nice and politely) with my own experience of what has ranged from latent heteronormativity to slurred bigotry, calling at casual homophobia and a few other stations on the way. Whether it's left-wing, predominantly open-minded friends who wouldn't date a bisexual, to those who don't believe lesbians can have sex, or facebook friends saying 'gay' as an insult, to people shouting stuff at me in the streets, I'M TIRED OF IT.

Picture the scene:

My beautiful girlfriend and I are about to enter a tube station to get the last train home after a night out.

GUY: Hey! I like what you're wearing (to GEM). Why don't you give me your number and maybe we could chat some more about fashion some time? (We didn't point out that this hardly constituted a conversation)

GEM: I'm OK, thanks.

GUY: Well, why don't you give me your number and you can give me a call later and tell us where you two end up, if it's any good?

GEM: Nah, it's alright. We're actually going home.

GUY: Well, why don't you give me your number anyway? (Credit should go to him for persistence, I will concede).

GEM: We're actually together (gestures at me).

GUY: (pause) Well, why don't you take my number anyway, so you can call me when you realise the strap-on's not enough, and it's a real cock you're after.

Charming. What did he think? That she was going to turn around and say, 'Oh my god, you're right! What have I been thinking?! I thought I was a lesbian, but now you've suggested it, meeting you, I've realised that all I needed was your big, giant, delicious cock to make me realise what I was missing. How silly of me....'????

Fade out.



Scene #2

Walking down the high street.

PAINT BALL GUY: Hey girls! Fancy shooting your boyfriends?

ME: I don't have a boyfriend. I have a girlfriend. You shouldn't make assumptions.

Fade out. 




Scene #3

Walking down the high street the following day.


PAINT BALL GUY #2: Hey, girl in blue.

ME: Hi. I'm not really interested in paint-balling.

PAINT BALL GUY #2: What about your friends? Or your boyfriend? Attractive girl like you must have a boyfriend.

ME: It obviously wasn't you I spoke to yesterday. I actually have a girlfriend.

GUY FROM BEFORE: Yeah - she's got a girlfriend.

PAINT BALL GUY #2: Do you both need boyfriends?

GUY FROM BEFORE: Wouldn't that slightly defeat....

Moron. Paint ball guy #2 - you disappoint me. Do we both need boyfriends?! I want to set Julie Bindel on him

Unimpressed fade out.




Scene #4


MY DOCTOR: What contraception are you using?

ME: I'm not.

DOC: Are you trying to get pregnant?

ME: No.

DOC: Do you have a boyfriend?

ME: No. I have a girlfriend.

DOC. Then there's no point going on the pill. Unless, of course, you are planning on having sex with men in the future? We're not all the bad, really!

ARGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH. Of course Mr Doctor, because I thought you men were all disgusting and gross and horrid, and that's why I have a girlfriend. Not because I accidentally fell in love with my best friend and was lucky enough that she fell in love with me too. Of course. And now you come to mention it, Mr Young & Cocky Doctor, I've just realised that you are not all that bad, really. Just some of you.

Fade out, sexually, with Bond girls dancing and Brigitte Bardot & Serge Gainsbourg playing in the background....

Hmmph.

Once upon a Friday

VERY EXCITING NEWS: my first published article! I have been waiting for this day for a very long time (judge me, I don't care! I always wanted to have something proper - other than a shit primary school limerick - published by the time I was 21. And failed. So upped it to 25, and I have won! Kate vs The World: Kate in the lead....for once. It's all 'cos my bloody twin sister had something published in Philosophy Now when we were still at sixth form. Although I am NOT COMPETITIVE. I just have to win at everything.). Anyway, the beautiful day arrived on Friday, when Arts Professional ran my article for their special edition on the Arts and Wellbeing. Now, I know technology is such that you can just click the link, but I'm going to copy the full text of my article below, because they cut a few lines out and I'm silly and precious and want them in (look out for the Jeanette W quote I recently posted - you'd never know I just read her book). So, there we go. Enjoy!

Storytelling and Well-being

As a creative facilitator, working in Drama and creative writing with a diverse mix of community groups, story is one of my main mediums – an important tool in my practitioner tool-kit (bouncing around with the juggling balls). I believe recognising the importance of stories in all of our lives, and how we can explore, manipulate and extend those narratives, is fundamental to our well-being. It is not simply an artistic medium; it is a life-line.

I work with a number of groups who could be seen as pushed to the periphery, inhabiting a space beyond the societal centre, such as young refugees (with Attic Theatre Company), women who experience mental distress (for CoolTan Arts), and addicts in recovery (for a Crime Reduction Initiative), to name a few. When I enter their space to facilitate a workshop, I am, inevitability, entering into their life-narratives, if only for a couple of hours. It may sometimes resonate very little, but for some I hope the work punctuates, provides a hiatus, starts a new paragraph (or if we’re lucky a chapter), turns a page…extends a metaphor. We might shift the story a bit, or we might give them a space to write a new one; either way, we play in and with stories, and can explore and experience the enormous power of them. Thus, for those in the margins, the arts can facilitate the journey from beyond centre-page to centre-stage.

The social importance of storytelling, and its symbiotic relationship with cultural heritage, is neither a new nor an especially provocative topic. From Beowulf to The Boy Who Cried Wolf, hopefully we can all recognise the importance of sharing community narratives (for both communities of location and communities of interest). It is more than the thread that binds us together; it is an umbilical-like rope. If we think back to Scheherazade in the tale of One Thousand and One Nights, with a rich tapestry of stories as her only currency, we can see how storytelling becomes a life-saver. It is also more than just a cliché to say that literature helps us feel less isolated; as Jeanette Winterson remembers in her recent autobiography: ‘I had no one to help me, but the T.S. Eliot [poetry book] helped me’[1]. Stories can be communicated in forms beyond prose: they are hidden all around us; they might be infiltrating our personal bubble from the headphones of someone’s annoyingly loud music on the tube, or found in a poem on a postcard, or in our newspaper. Whether we are looking for them or bump into them, stories are everywhere.  

So, we can see that storytelling, and the told stories all around us, can both help us in our understanding of who we are and make us feel less alone. But they have more than a dual purpose. If we move to thinking about autobiographical storytelling, we can see manifold benefits to personal and societal well-being. In her book on Autobiography and Performance, Deidre Heddon discusses the opportunity autobiographical performance provides to allow the marginalised subject to ‘talk out, talk back, talk otherwise’ and to ‘engage with the pressing matters of the present which relate to equality, to justice, to citizenship, to human rights’[2] – integral to the well-being agenda. Indeed, autobiographical performance not only highlights the potential for sharing otherwise silent narratives with the community, in a way that can be revealing and enlightening, but can also provide a vehicle for self-examination. The act of telling an audience our story necessitates the act of self-reflection and demands self-selection on which parts we decide to disclose. It also provides the opportunity to analyse our life as a continuous journey, rather than reflecting on events in isolation; through this it may be possible to identify patterns in our behaviour, and whether there is a dominant narrative that drives us. We can thus gain insight into our own lives.

The power of self-constructed narratives has been recognised as epistemologically and psychologically crucial to the construction of our own identity; in fact psychologist, neurologist and author Oliver Sacks has stated: ‘It might be said that each of us constructs and lives a “narrative” and that this narrative is us, our identities’.[3] If we are aware that we understand the world and our self through narrative, then it becomes easier to see our identity as fluid, rather than fixed and inflexible; this could give us a greater degree of control over our perceptions of the world, as autonomous subjects who can mould the stories we tell of ourselves.  This is even before we consider entering the world of fictitious performance, where we experiment with role and metaphor, where we can take on a new character with a tilt of the head, and relay stories miles away from our lived reality, yet which we still feel could be about us. Or don’t, and enjoy the liberation of that. Where can’t we travel through story? Through story we can take amazing journeys. Through story we can also come home.

---

[1] Winterson, J. (2012) Why be happy when you could be normal? London: Vintage, p40.

[2] Heddon, D. (2008) Autobiography and Performance, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp2-3. iogrn, D. (2008)  and author Drr Dr.

[3] Sacks, O. (1985) The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales. New York: Harper, p110. 

These be the verses #2

Staying in the mystical realm of the poetic imagination, or rather staying on the theme of poetry and my recent amblings in this district, there are a few things I forgot to say in my last post...

1) We are doing a bit of a recruitment drive for my poetry group at CoolTan Arts, so if anyone is interested in joining (girls only, I'm afraid) or knows of anyone who might be (friends working in community arts: are you working with any groups which have some creative ladies who might fancy joining our very supportive and welcoming group?) please get in touch! We are working towards a publication, and all levels are welcome. 

2) I also need to share, my week was made last week when one of my lovely colleagues at CoolTan emailed me in the FORM OF A HAIKU! Completely unprompted. Just a beautifully concise message in ancient Japanese poetic form. More people should do things like this. It makes the world a better place.

Send me a haiku

It breaks the monotony

Of shit life admin

3) I have just read Jeanette Winterson's exquisite autobiography: Why be happy when you can be normal?, and had to go out straight away and buy my own copy, so I can have it and lend it to people. I read this passage about our need for poetry, and what I see as the power of the arts, and wanted to share it:

I was confused about sex and sexuality, and upset about the straightforward practical problems of where to live, what to eat, and how to do my A levels. 

I had no one to help me, but the T.S. Eliot [book] helped me.

So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn't be read at school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language - and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers - a language powerful enough to say it how it is.

It isn't a hiding place. It is a finding place. 

(pp39-40)

Discuss...

These be the verses

A bit behind on my intended blog posts, as per usual, although this time predominantly influenced by the fact that I have been in bed with the 'flu for the last fortnight. I've got at least three things I want to write about, so shall start from the beginning (a very good place to start, as we established when this blog was born), and move through my excitements chronologically. Probably.

On 17th April, I attended a fantabulous writing masterclass with Patience Agbabi, Professions and Confessions: Creative Character Writing, at the Free Word Centre, as part of Apples and Snakes' Artists' Development Programme. Apples and Snakes is the 'leading organisation for performance poetry in England, with a national reputation for producing exciting and innovative participation and performance work in spoken word' (yes, that is stolen from their website), and is splendid. They have years' experience of great education work, and have also champion and celebrated the best of performance poetry talent since the early '80s. I got to know the organisation better when I worked with them earlier this year as one of the 'Young Writers' in Indiana Jones and the Extra Chair, which was a partnership between A&S, The Albany, and performance poet Simon Mole.

Simon Mole

I meant to write a blog post about IJatEC when the project finished in March, but....life.... and now it seems like a really long time ago. Although I think it was sunnier then! Anyway, it was a fantastic project to have been involved in - themed around family, festivities, food and heroes - and I felt privileged to have had the chance to work with so many lovely, talented people.  The performance nights were particularly memorable: more of an event than a performance, with us all sitting with the audience, sharing stories, food and laughter, and writing spontaneous poems. My 'parts' were to tell a story about how my primary school teacher is my super-hero (she is) whilst painting half my face like Spiderman (bizarrely it worked - the directorial genius of Peader Kirk) and to wander around with a feather duster reciting my little poetic piece 'How to Combat Stains and Spills' ("it's not just a stain, it's a particularly dirty stain...").

Patience Agbabi

So, after my adventures into performance poetry early this year (and my life getting a lot more poetic, through my creative writing work with CoolTan Arts and at Munster Rd. since then), I've tried to keep my ear to the ground for happenings in London, and Apples and Snakes have helped me do so.  Also, if I can avoid it, I NEVER turn down a free master class! And thus I found myself, on a very wet Tuesday afternoon, rocking up to profess and confess with Patience Agbabi. Well, write poems. From a character's perspective. Indeed, through a cleverly crafted workshop exercise, I developed - through no fault of my own - the tale of an actuary (the profession) who had run over her neighbour's dog, buried it, then helped them look for it for a week (the confession) - have you spotted the link to the title yet?

I was slightly terrified when we all read them back, as everyone else's were REALLY GOOD. Cue agonizing self-doubt about why I was there in the first place and related Imposter Syndrome feelings. Which is why I nearly fell over when a stand up comic there told me I was FUNNY. Which is pleasing. Particularly so, as little did I know I would return home that day only to leave the house despairingly little over the next two weeks. Apart from those occasions when I tried out, and failed at, being well enough to do things like go to conferences. They just looked like too much fun to miss! I'm not even joking (despite having established that this may be where my next career could be forged). But enough - I shall write about the excitement of my various conferi (plural??) next time. I may even think of a pun or two to throw in.

She works hard for the money

I work hard for the money....If only I had more...(don't worry I'm not begging your sympathy, donations and food parcels. Although I'm a polite young lady and would never turn them away. Please email for my address.)  

However, mumble-grumbling aside, I am feeling very lucky at the moment regarding work (amount of and quality of), and am still slightly reeling over my good fortune to be working with the groups and colleagues that I do.

'Who are they all?' I hear you ask, with an expression as eager as....my face looks a lot of the time. I'm a very eager person. Well, I shall reply by giving you The Break-Down. I tested my Dad on all my 8 (or something) jobs recently and he did pretty well, considering I can only remember all of them if I use my fingers. Don't worry, I won't be testing you, dear reader (to go a bit Charlotte Bronte), with some bizarre interactive blog-post version of Kim's Game. Although I would if I had the technical prowess.

So, in no particular order, these are Kate's jobs, clearly listed for your perusal:

Attic Theatre Company - jointly running weekly Drama workshops as part of Many Voices, one of Attic's outreach projects, working with young refugees/unaccompanied minors.

Crime Reduction Initiatives (C.R.I.) Abstinence and Aftercare, Munster Road - Creative writing and Drama, each once a month, working with men and women who are at different stages of recovery from substance misuse.


CoolTan Arts - Poetry Tutor for women who experience mental distress, for a community arts organisation who believe mental well-being is enhanced by the power of creativity.

Prendergast Vale College - Yr. 7 Drama teacher at a new comprehensive, co-ed. school in Lewisham, teaching a weekly Drama class.

Three Faiths Forum - inter-faith/inter-cultural facilitation in schools, both Drama-based for their School Linking programme, and as a facilitator for their Education team, delivering workshops/presentations in schools.

QUIT - Youth Presenter/Advisor for Quit Because, their youth programme, delivering smoking awareness workshops in schools and other youth settings.

Teen Boundaries, part of Family Lives - Outreach Worker, running workshops about sexualised bullying, sexual violence, the objectification of different genders, and other important issues like that. This is a new job I will be starting after Easter and I'm really excited, as I strongly believe that sex education in schools needs to develop its focus on emotional education and the complexities of sexual relationships (with any gender).

Diversity Role Models - 'Role Model'/speaker for DRM, working in schools to combat homophobic bullying by presenting 'real life' people to talk to them, of a spectrum of sexual identities. I've written about them on here a couple of times, so scroll to earlier blog posts if you are interested.

Ummm.... Is that it? Have I forgotten any? I'm on Cragrat's books as a freelancer, but haven't had any work yet. Oooh, and I'm sort of setting up a theatre company with my good friend Madelaine, but more on that soon (suspense, suspense)...


*I should put a little disclaimer to say that the title of this post is only referencing the fact that I'm working pretty damn hard, rather than any allusion to prostitution (haven't had to go down that road yet) which the song always seems to suggest to me.