Some Room Of One's Own

This week, an article in the G2 reported on several prominent women who have gone public about their struggles with depression, including Marian Keyes, Emma Thompson and Alison Pearson. This development, the article reports, reflects the trend that modern women are as twice as likely to be diagnosed with depression as men. My reaction on reading this was:

No shit Sherlock.

The way I see it is like this:

First wave feminism: Make equal space for us.
Second wave feminism: This space is ours and we’re going to define it how we see fit.
Third wave feminism: There’s too much space we have to fill. We’re knackered.

The article referred to an American report called The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness by Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers which debunks the myth that working women are knackered because they do it all. The article claims that the time spent working in and out of the home are roughly similar for both men and women. However the article states that it is women who carry the overall emotional responsibility for the domestic sector whilst men are more “helpers.”

Is this true?

It's true in mine. Both my husband and I work full-time but somehow the management of our household falls to me. I know that if we had kids, the flow of their day would become my remit. In order to raise a family, I know I will need to give up things that I love to do as well as, to a large degree, my solitude. The thought of this alone is depressing enough.

Is this it?

What happened to A Room of One's Own? What happened to The Women's Room?

What happened?



Kids or no kids, most women I know are so busy they don’t even have time to scratch themselves. The expectations surrounding and from within are so high. We push it physically, mentally and emotionally day in, day out. After awhile, such relentlessness takes a toll.

Look after yourselves ladies. It’s not worth it.

Step Outside, Posh Boy!

In the lead up to the 2008 US elections, I was glued to footage of the Democratic nominations and the final sprint between Obama and McCain. The excitement and on-the-edge of your seat anticipation generated by the American election process was unlike none other. The world seemed to wait with bated breath to find out who was going to replace the man who trashed America, a.k.a, Bush.

It’s the Brits’ turn now and even though I am a Brit, I am nowhere near as excited as I was then. Partly because I live in dread of the Tories getting in and also because the UK election lead up is boring. B-O-R-I-N-G. There is no excitement in the air. The general feeling seems to be that a change is needed but whether that comes in the form of Brown or Cameron is much of a muchness for voters. The pundits are predicting a close call and perhaps this is reflective that the public is voting for the lesser of two evils rather than the party/leader that moves and inspires them. Because in all truth, there ain’t one.

It hasn’t been all doom and gloom though. There have been the rare moments in the lead up in which British wit and irreverence have shown their faces. Two of my personal favourites are below:





May 6th. Who's it gonna be?

Pina Bausch

Pina Bausch changed my understanding of dance forever. When I first clapped eyes on her choreography, I was a teenager who was sick of tendus and plies but didn't know how to get past the strictures of classicism, nor the abstractions of contemporary. Pina stripped back the pretensions of form and showed that dancers could be individuals; nuanced and real. That dancers need not be dancing lines in the air but characters that speak, fart or fall down onstage. Her work was poignant, dark, wicked and funny. It influences me to this day.

For all the impact that she had on me, I'd never seen her work live. That drought came to an end when I scored tickets to Kontakthof at the Barbican. The piece was to be performed by two casts; one group aged 65+ and the other, teenagers. I plumbed for the oldies because how often do you get to see a group of pensioners in a major dance work?


Kontakthof, trans. - a place to make contact, to meet, was simply that. A dancehall where a group of people had assembled to play out all the games we humans play with each other. Taking my seat, I was afraid that up close, Pina's work would fall flat of my (sky-high) expectations.



I needn't have worried. The piece drew from me a range of responses. I laughed till I snorted. I wondered what the hell was going on. I wanted to know more about those people onstage. I felt uncomfortable by some of what I saw. I thought it was too long. I loved, loved, loved that the dancers were 65 and over. It gave me hope.

I walked out still a grateful fan and aware even more of her influence on my dance education.

RIP Pina. Thank you for the moves.

Happy Birthday Jimmy*

I'm inspired by many people. Some of them I don’t know or aren’t real (although Yoda feels very real) but today is the birthday of a real life dude whom I find inspiring. For the sake of anonymity (mine, not his), I’m gonna call him Jimmy*.

I met Jimmy through my husband. They were old friends, having survived their college years together. Later whilst working in Kazakhstan Jimmy met and married a rockin’ babe from America and my husband, well he met me(sucker). They both lured their new spouses to London under the pretence that it was the Land of Milk & Honey, which turned out to be not quite true but true enough for now.

As I’ve gotten to know Jimmy, I discovered that he makes his dreams a reality. When I first met him, he was in the transition of leaving his secure 9-5 job to launch his own online business. He hated what he did for a living and he wanted to be his own boss. Developing and launching the business was a fraught time. He still had the responsibilities of a marriage, mortgage and bills and there was no guarantee his idea would work. Nonetheless he ploughed steadily away, making his vision real. Now he has since launched a second online business; has staff working for him and appeared briefly in the Apprentice! Blood, sweat and (some) tears were par for the course I imagine but he did it!

(This is not Jimmy of course but I feel that the force of Yoda resides in all my friends)

I’ve also witnessed the same application of dogged effort and belief to his London marathon training. Less than a year ago he was unfit. When he announced his marathon intentions, I don’t think he could run 200m without hacking his lungs out. Undeterred Jimmy started putting one foot in front of the other. Slowly and steadily just like he built his businesses, he built up his fitness. When the time comes, the marathon will be another of his dreams achieved.

Our friends don’t always know that we may admire them for aspects and qualities inherent within them. As it’s your birthday Jimmy – I thought I’d tell you. Happy Birthday! Keep on truckin’...

*You know who you are (I hope!)