The Ego Has Landed. When Factions Eat Their Young.

Political factions. Love them or hate them they seem to be here to stay.

I used to have a pretty dim view of them if I'm honest. Then I found one that I thought was a group if like minded individuals who wanted the same things as me politically.

And they were.

So I joined.

I'm not a member anymore.

I'm going to have to be VERY careful how I write this as I don't want to give away where I work and there are people still in this faction that are there because they are really trying to make a difference.

I applaud these people. In a lot of ways I wish I was still one of them, but for the sake of my sanity I had to walk away.

So, am going to write about what I have witnessed in factions generally. Nothing specific.

And hope that I come out of this relatively unscathed.

Fuck. I'm shaking as I type this!

So, you join a faction. You feel a sense of elation that politically you are not alone.

You attend caucus. You take part in the debates. You may disagree from time but it's nothing earth shattering and you can live with sticking to the line. When you really can't do it your comrades respect this. They respect you for being so principled.

You spend the next couple of years euphoric because you are doing good work.

You think that joining this faction was the best thing you could have done.

Then one day...

The caucus becomes carcass. There are new members with their own agendas.

The Egos have landed.

Your voice is lost. Debate is a farce. You are told the line and expected to stick with it.

Any attempt to assert your opinion is batted away. Your credentials are questioned. Your politics are questioned.

You start to question yourself.

You speak to a senior member of your faction about your concerns. The bullying you have witnessed, the change in atmosphere.

The egos turn on you.

You get sidelined. Ignored. Maligned.

You get lied about, set up to fail and bullied.

Yet you still believe in the principal of why you joined in the first place. You still believe you can make things better. You stay.

You cry at night. You have your medication upped. You don't recognise yourself any more.

The final straw comes and you leave.

You feel elated, taller.

The egos unleash everything they have at you. Friends and comrades can't be seen to be talking to you in case they are next in the firing line.

The egos smear your name as much as they can. They try to take everything away from you.

Then just as you think you have escaped you hear that it is all starting again with someone else.  The egos have found a new plaything.

You vow never to join a faction again.

You blog.

Whose Side Are You On?

Please welcome this stunning guest post on unions finally putting their money where their political mouths are.

Let's clear something up once and for all. I'm not asking anyone to join the Labour Party, to change it, or to do anything. My main argument here is to recognise what is happening and to adapt to the changing reality.
What is happening, at the moment, is that the three biggest affiliated unions to Labour -Unite, UNISON and GMB - are starting to demand something in return for their affiliation. For the past 20 years, all they have pretty much done is to pays their (members') money and leave it at that.

But now, the big three are putting their people forward for selection as candidates, getting their people onto the National Policy Forum, constituency GCs, selection panels; putting motions to CLPs, NPF, conference in a co-ordinated, strategic way in order to set the agenda of Labour in the interests of their members.

Now, I really couldn't care whether you think unions should be affiliated to Labour or not. What we are starting to see, as a part of a political-industrial strategy, is the union movement starting to assert itself in the Labour Party. Rather than leave politics to "other people" to worry about, they are taking a pro-active responsibility for what their affiliation fees are spent on, and who is representing them.

Like it or not, this is not a point of view. This is a fact. And it represents a qualitative break from what has happened before. And unions on the offensive, standing up for their policies and values, is what scares the Tories the most - and what scares the Labour right the most. For the past 20 years they have ruled the roost in Labour and now their position is under mortal threat - which is why they are reacting by trying to weaken the link. Whats worse for the right is that the unions' strategy is actually working. Union supported candidates are getting selected and union supported motions are getting support in constituencies, who are campaigning on union-supported issues.

For socialists, the correct response to the right's attacks on union influence in Labour -whether you think unions should affiliate to Labour or form some sort of 'new left party' (for a new workers' party you need a sizable chunk of the working class) - is painfully obvious and only oblivious to those whose sectarianism plagues their ability to see what's in front of them like cataracts on the eyes.

You support the unions. Simple as.

When the Tories and Labour right attack unions for asserting themselves politically, no matter how they do this, it is the primary duty of socialists to defend the right of unions to do so. To desert from this responsibility is to abdicate from the class struggle, frankly. This doesn't mean you have to advocate fraud. This doesn't mean you have to advocate, or indeed even like, the union affiliation to Labour. What is at stake here is the *right* for unions to affiliate to political parties and have an active role in the direction of those parties.
It is not scaremongering to state that if the unions lose this battle, if they lose the *right* to organise with and within political parties, then it will be lost forever. The Tories will legislate to stop it, and our unions will be turned into workplace versions of the AA or the RAC. If the unions lose their ability to affiliate to and have representation within the Labour Party, you can kiss goodbye any hope of any union affiliating to TUSC.

Ever.

You don't have to like Miliband; I bloody well don't. In fact, the more trade unionists who enter Labour and support the unions against Miliband weakens Miliband and the forces he represents. Up until now, the unions haven't wanted to rock the boat, but now they realise they have no choice if they are to retain any credibility.
It really does boil down to this question: whose side are you on? Are you on the side of unions and political trade unionism, or will you end up as a fellow traveller of Progress, of the Tories, and be partially responsible for the death of political trades unionism?

On Sexism And Victim Blaming Inherent In Personal Safety Training

I can't tell you where I work. Well, I could, but then I'd have to kill you. Lets just say that I'm a superhero with a daytime alter ego. Yes, let's go with that.

Anyhow, even superheroes have day jobs and have mandatory training to do.

This week it was personal safety training.

Apart from the fact that I am likely to ignore all of it should an incident arise, I had some issues with the content.

For instance, if you break down on the motorway you should wait on the embankment. Yup, I remember this from my driving theory test.

But, wait! What is this? Unless you are a woman alone and it starts to rain? Then, apparently, you should sit in the passenger seat so it looks like you are waiting for a man to come back.

I shit you not.

Oh, and make sure you have change for the phone as you might be lulled into a false sense of security by your mobile which might not have a signal.

Yeah, really.

And this doozy. Make sure you turn your handbag round so that it is facing inwards. That way it will be harder to steal from.

I really wish I was making this up.

If you are in a dangerous situation a mobile phone should not lead to a false sense of security because you should be phoning the police, not the office in this situation. The signal or lack of it would not be an issue as the emergency services are on a military satellite. Which is why you would see 'emergency calls only' when you have no signal.

I am very concerned that there is advice on women alone in the first place as statistically they are in no more danger than men. I am doubly concerned that the advice to sit in the passenger seat if it is raining rather than the embankment is there. This is an incredibly dangerous thing to do, especially in the rain where visibility would be poorer. They may get wet sitting on an embankment but they won't get ploughed into by a lorry or car. The better advice may be to make sure you carry a raincoat.

The advice on handbags smacks of victim blaming. This would identify someone as a potential victim and increase the likelihood of an attack.

However, none of this comes close to the victim blaming language that meant I took nearly as long doing the feedback as I did the training.

Deep breath. Here we go.

'We can inadvertently provoke aggression by the way in which we communicate with others.'

'Where you are faced with violence it is possible that you have not recognised the signs early enough or taken appropriate measures soon enough.'

'Don't retaliate either by word or deed, someone with a short fuse can easily be pushed too far.'

'Try to stay calm if provoked. Panic can show and be seen as a sign of weakness.'

'Defend yourself as a last resort.'

Totally unacceptable.

Bad enough that I have to work twice as hard for half the recognition, (just ask Wonder Woman, we often moan about this while out shopping for tights) but to be painted as something delicate that needs protection from rain but if I'm attacked then it was something I did?

No. Just no.

Looking forward to the response to my feedback.

On Being Believed

Trigger warnings for abuse apply.

Earlier I was trying to explain to The Lovely why We Believe You is such a powerful statement.

I talked about rape culture and purity culture and patriarchy and all the other things you would expect. I talked about it being the starting point that might encourage a woman to report abuse. That cynicism, no matter how well meant would be a barrier. Mostly he gets it. He is a good man, a good feminist and a good ally.

But it occurred to me that there was another reason We Believe You is so powerful. And this would not occur to anyone who hasn't been there.

It is because, for many of us it is the first time we have ever heard it.

I heard it for the first time when I posted on the #Ididnotreport hashtag. I cried for hours. And hours. For the first time in my life I felt at peace. It has been a huge contributing factor to the fact that I am able to be so honest on this blog.

I spent my life being told I was over reacting, making it up, being ridiculous. I heard excuses, 'reasons', most of which pointed to it being my fault. I provoked him. I should have been better. Looked after myself better, made myself more attractive, more available.

You know what?

FUCK YOU!

Fuck you the ice cream man who felt me up when I was 14 and told me that no one would believe me if I told.

Fuck you the woman who told me that the occasional slap was ok but I shouldn't put up with full on punches.

Fuck you the man who raped me when I was 14 and let his mates watch. And then told me that no one would believe it was rape because he was my boyfriend.

Fuck you woman who told me not to tell my mum because it was her wedding day and people might not believe me because they might think I was trying to deflect attention from my mother's big day.

Fuck you mum for replying when I finally plucked up the courage to tell you years later that you didn't believe that I would have kept it a secret for that long and that if it was true that I would have told you at the time.

Fuck you man who told me that no one would believe he beat me while pregnant because he was so solicitous of me in public.

To the woman who said I should maybe wear make up more often so that he would find me too attractive to hit. Fuck you.

Fuck you man who told me that no one would believe I didn't know he was shagging about and would assume that I was weak for allowing it.

Fuck you everyone who made me hide inside myself so that I didn't have to face up to all the abuse I had taken because I was such a 'strong woman' that no one would believe me.

Everyone who told me it was my fault if it happened. Fuck you.

Anyone who thinks that a starting point of I Believe You is discriminatory against men. Fuck You most of all. Just fuck you.

In a week where Stuart Hall got 15 months, where Charles Saatchi calls putting his hands round his wife's neck a 'playful tiff' (this is actually an abusers way of saying look how easily I could kill you), where Unison conference voted down a we believe her amendment to a motion because TEH MENZ, fuck you if you think that I will not ALWAYS put I Believe You at the forefront of my mind.

Just fuck you.

To anyone who is being abused. Speak up and speak out.

I believe you.

On Living With A Self Harmer

Massive trigger warnings for self harm apply.

Don't really know where to start with this post. Gonna be a whole heap of personal as usual and for once I sought permission to write it.

Permission? I hear you ask... Who on earth from?

@spaceviolin is who.

She self harms. And I am her mum.

She writes her own blog on her mental health issues and today she wrote this amazing post on self harm. In fact, her whole blog is amazing. You should check it out.

But I procrastinate... as I have been for a very long time. The posts I write about myself are somehow easier, I can distance myself from the things I describe because they happened a long time ago. I have distance and perspective on them. This is happening NOW so if this post becomes muddled, I apologise in advance.

So yeah, my daughter self harms.

It's hard for me when she does it for many reasons. One, I am her mum and I don't want to see my baby in pain. Either the pain of the cutting or the psychological pain that makes her do it. I understand why she does it logically and intellectually but seeing it makes me want to wrap her in cotton wool. Hide her away from the world and protect her so she never has to feel any pain again. And I can't. I can't take that control away from her as it would lead to even more problems. And I wouldn't want to as that would be a life half lived. And what would be the point?

I believe in personal bodily autonomy, so intellectually it shouldn't bother me that she self harms. But it does. I don't own her, I don't believe that just because I gave birth to her that I have any entitlement over her body at all, but she is my darling baby girl.

I don't try to stop her doing it. If I find what she has been cutting with I remove it but she will inevitably find something else to do it with. I can't keep her away from everything sharp in the world. Last time I tried she ended up punching herself. And if she couldn't do that she would find another way.

It's hard you know, leaving sharp things around so she doesn't feel like I'm babying her, or not trusting her, all the while hoping against hope that she'll stop.

I try to be supportive. I try not to guilt her when she does as I know that makes it worse. I try to smile so she can't see a little bit more of my heart break when I see fresh cuts. I'm grateful that she is honest about it now in a way that she wasn't at first but I am scared that by normalising it she'll never get better. I tell myself that I'm doing all I can and by giving her a safe space to talk about it and taking her to her therapy sessions so that when she knows how to feel anger, knows how to feel that it will calm down and eventually stop.

I understand that this is not a suicide attempt, a way to manipulate, a cry for attention. I understand that when she does it that it gives her relief from her pain, gives her control and is a pressure valve.

I am not angry with her.

I love her.

Sometimes it's just, you know, hard.

On Being A Survivor And Kink Shaming

With many thanks to @_LaDiabla.

Yeah, so apparently kink shaming is a thing.

Not sure on what planet it is ok to shame consenting adults for their consensual sexual leanings, but in a world where patriarchy rules all it shouldn't surprise me.

However, this isn't what this post is about. It's about the idea that abuse survivors have their kinks too.

Anyone who has been following this blog for more than a minute knows I am a survivor of sexual, physical, emotional and mental abuse. I've never been shy about that. I've not been shy about my politics, my sexuality, my struggles with my mental health and my eating disorders.

Have been shy about one thing though and maybe its time I put it out there...

Survivors of abuse have kinks too.

Oh and this...

Having kinks DOES NOT INVALIDATE THE ABUSE. EVEN IF THOSE KINKS IN SOME WAY RESEMBLES THE ABUSE.

It doesn't mean we enjoyed it. It doesn't mean we asked for it. It doesn't mean we wanted it. It doesn't mean it was our fault.

For example.

I quite like being pinned down and fucked. Hard. I like the feeling that feeling powerless brings sometimes. Whether with men or women I quite like being told I'm dirty and I want it.

Does this invalidate my rapes?

Fuck no.

See, the thing is that I am consenting to being overpowered. I am consenting to being controlled. In my professional life I make decisions and manage a whole heap of people. When I consent to being treated like an object, it has everything to do with that and nothing to do with rape.

I quite like being spanked, bitten, whipped.

Is that because I like the endorphins that are released or because I miss being beaten up?

(Just in case you wondered, it's the endorphins.)

And there are more kinks I have too, but this isn't a 'what turns Deeva on' post.

It's a post on sexual freedom, on trust, on consent and not everything always being about my fucking abuse.

So no kink shaming please, no victim blaming and NO USING THE FACT THAT I HAVE KINKS TO ENGAGE IN RAPE APOLOGY.

Kinky consensual sex will not damage me. Raping me will.

Only yes means yes.

On The EDL, Facebook And White Privilege

Ive been really fucking upset this week. Angry tears, proper rage and pressure cooker temper.

It all started with the horrific killing in Woolwich last week. I was in Brighton poorly with conference lurgy and hence in bed early when the news broke.

Like any rational human being I was horrified and sickened. Both at the act itself and at the jump straight to it being a terror attack.

Coz funnily enough, when a brown person gets killed by white people it's just murder.

My already pretty dodgy stomach lurched with the premonition that ramping up the rhetoric would bring out the scum EDL.

And predictably it did.

And over on Facebook I started the cull of 'friends' who had liked EDL statuses. The flags and the 'its our country, if they don't like it they can leave' bollocks appeared on my timeline.

And I was angry. I blocked anyone who posted this shit and got into a long and intense argument about why the hysteria and double standards were making me sick.

When I got to work, I was faced with one of those I had blocked. She was pretty pissed off with me and asked why I had blocked her. This reply goes to everyone that is no longer on my Facebook.

I blocked you because you are ignorant. I blocked you because your senseless posting of jingoistic, patriotic bullshit makes the EDL think they have a point. I blocked you because they gather strength and momentum from the bullshit bellendery you post and they think they are justified in marching past my fucking house on a Saturday afternoon chanting their message of hate while my neighbours cheer them on.

Most of all I blocked you because for the first time since the 70's my race is a thing again. I have to double risk assess leaving my home because I am a black woman.

Fuck you very much for that.

So yeah, I'm fucking furious.

Post what you want on your Facebook. Just don't expect me to stick around to see it.

And while I'm at it, not wishing to sound ungrateful and all that, this brings me onto white privilege.

I am aware that there are a lot of white people who are anti racist. Every one of my friends is the anti fash demo attending type and I love them for being the wonderful human beings that they are.

But.

When I say I'm crying tears of fear and anger PLEASE do not tell me you know exactly how I feel. Because you don't.

Unless you had your school dinner spat in because 'thats what niggers deserve', unless you have had rocks thrown at your head, been cornered and attacked, sexually assaulted, ALL BECAUSE YOU ARE BLACK then you don't know how I feel. That is white privilege right there and I wish you would put that shit the fuck away.

This leads me nicely onto my last point.

On Saturday, as the EDL marched all around the country, Twitter responded in a way only Twitter can with the hashtag #EDLmisfortunes.

This gentle ribbing of the nasty fuckers by hoping they stepped on Lego etc split opinion. Some said it was a bit of fun, some said (including white people *stern look*) said it trivialized what people of colour go through.

Thing is, everyone has a different response and EVERY ONE OF THOSE RESPONSES WERE VALID.

I bloody loved it. It was the perfect valve for my pressure cooker anger and without it I may have misdirected my anger at my friends and screamed at them to check their privilege. That I had somewhere to vent made that easier.

My anger is best reserved for those who deserve it, not those who are my allies.

The EDL will be in my beloved adopted city again on Saturday.

See you all who stand against their hatred there.