I wonder whether days like yesterday will ever become "normal". I do hope not!
Tuesday 19 July 2011 will go down in history as the day Parliament tried to hold the Murdoch press and the Metropolitan Police to account. It also happened to be the day when I was meeting MPs and Baronesses.
I walked into Portcullis House past the long queues for both the Home Affairs Select Committee and the Culture and Media Select Committee, to be greeted by a security man at the desk who obviously expected to send me back out to join the queues. His manner changed abruptly when I said I was there to see Simon Hughes. I asked to go to the loo first, and he directed me up some stairs and down a corridor. There were police all over the place. As I came out from the loo, Sir Paul Stephenson brushed past on his way down the corridor to the Home Affairs Select Committee - where he subsequently got a mauling. The look on his face as he strode past was one of glorious defiance! "Are you here to protect me?" he joked to the policeman on my right.
Coming out of Portcullis House (directly behind Ken Livingstone), the arrangements had changed, so now there was little choice but to walk down the 10 yard "corridor" of press photographers. You could tell this short delay as they wondered who I was then decided to take photographs anyway in case I proved to be important.
In the afternoon I had my first taste of Parliamentary Forum business in another outcrop of the Parliamentary Estate. Walking past St Stephens Green and seeing the television outlets with their tents and scaffolds, so they can get a good picture of the Houses of Parliament in the background but be far enough above the bustle of Millbank so it doesn't intrude. Seeing Alistair Stewart and Carol Barnes (I think) lit up as we walked past at 6:15 was, in itself, interesting. Back at home, watching Huw Edwards on the BBC News at 10, obviously in the same place, was also slightly dislocating.
Who knows, maybe yesterday will be a start of other changes as well. Simon Hughes was very receptive on my idea for removing gender markers altogether - he'll do some research over the summer and get back to me. His assistant was terribly complimentary to me - saying I was the only one of his engagements this week who had appreciated how busy Simon had been and, moreover, accurately anticipating when he was most likely to be busy on that day. I suspect it was because of that understanding and flexibility that my appointment stuck. And raising questions about press regulation, the recent statement from the Equalities and Human Rights Commission that seems to indicate that religion may be a valid reason for people not to comply with the Equality Act (drawing gasps of disbelief from the group at large and a statement about how unclear the recent decision actually was from the EHRC member) and how trans is treated in schools at the Parliamentary Forum - maybe that will also initiate change.
Days like yesterday will never become normal. However, I suspect I should more accurately change my initial line to wonder whether mingling with senior parliamentarians, civil servants and broadcasters will ever become normal. Again, I do hope not - although I love every minute of it!
Wednesday 20 July 2011
Monday 27 June 2011
Awareness and Influences
Well, it was quite a wonderful day. I arrived half an hour before the event (as I was told it could take up to half an hour to get through security) and was waved through in 2 minutes. So I ended up standing outside Number 10 for about 20 minutes.
Walking through the world-famous black door was quite a moment, especially as it opened just before I got there - someone was wanting to come out, so it didn't open just because I was walking up to it! Then it shuts behind you, and you become one of the rare-ish people who see the inside of the Prime Minister's offices - the security guards, the computer by the famous hinges, the rack where you leave your mobile phone. Through to another slightly larger room where you leave your jackets and big bags, then down another corridor, up the famous staircase with all the pictures of previous Prime Ministers (so Gordon Brown was the last one pictured, strangely jauntily given what turned out) and into the reception rooms.
I was pleased, I didn't freeze or gape like a fish. Instead I found an inner confidence and introduced myself to folk, and was introduced to others. Lynne Featherstone recognised me from the MoU launch a few months earlier - she looked tired, and pretty much fled the scene as four trans activists started to off-load - possibly not the best plan of action. Simon Hughes was interested - and it looks like I've now managed set up a meeting with him about gender markers. Evan Davies was charming - especially when combined with Rev Richard Coles - my mornings' listening in one place, a doorway inside Number 10 - how surreal is that! Jane Hill was also supportive. It was over too soon.
I'm still pinching myself 5 days later. I know it happened. I hope it will happen again - as I'll be so much less nervous, and know more of what to expect.
Meanwhile I find myself at the centre of another political storm - inside the choral society. Suffice to say that I hope that the action the committee has taken will be undone - albeit that it means we may have to look for an alternative committee at short notice on Thursday.
And then I find that Stuart Cosgrove of Channel 4 found me "very impressive" - someone he felt he could do business with.
J said this afternoon that she wondered why I ever doubted my abilities - but it feels wrong somehow to assume that I am talented - it just feels like rubbing something in or denigrating others. But I'm obviously capable of making a mark. It makes the future seem more exciting. I only hope I haven't peaked!
Walking through the world-famous black door was quite a moment, especially as it opened just before I got there - someone was wanting to come out, so it didn't open just because I was walking up to it! Then it shuts behind you, and you become one of the rare-ish people who see the inside of the Prime Minister's offices - the security guards, the computer by the famous hinges, the rack where you leave your mobile phone. Through to another slightly larger room where you leave your jackets and big bags, then down another corridor, up the famous staircase with all the pictures of previous Prime Ministers (so Gordon Brown was the last one pictured, strangely jauntily given what turned out) and into the reception rooms.
I was pleased, I didn't freeze or gape like a fish. Instead I found an inner confidence and introduced myself to folk, and was introduced to others. Lynne Featherstone recognised me from the MoU launch a few months earlier - she looked tired, and pretty much fled the scene as four trans activists started to off-load - possibly not the best plan of action. Simon Hughes was interested - and it looks like I've now managed set up a meeting with him about gender markers. Evan Davies was charming - especially when combined with Rev Richard Coles - my mornings' listening in one place, a doorway inside Number 10 - how surreal is that! Jane Hill was also supportive. It was over too soon.
I'm still pinching myself 5 days later. I know it happened. I hope it will happen again - as I'll be so much less nervous, and know more of what to expect.
Meanwhile I find myself at the centre of another political storm - inside the choral society. Suffice to say that I hope that the action the committee has taken will be undone - albeit that it means we may have to look for an alternative committee at short notice on Thursday.
And then I find that Stuart Cosgrove of Channel 4 found me "very impressive" - someone he felt he could do business with.
J said this afternoon that she wondered why I ever doubted my abilities - but it feels wrong somehow to assume that I am talented - it just feels like rubbing something in or denigrating others. But I'm obviously capable of making a mark. It makes the future seem more exciting. I only hope I haven't peaked!
Monday 20 June 2011
Atmospheric Rises
So, let's get this into some kind of perspective:
In June 2001 I would have been so nervous about being seen wearing a dress by anyone at all. I was just coming to terms with the fact that I was trans-something. It didn't mean that I didn't want to be seen - it's just that I feared the reaction.
In June 2003 I had plucked up courage to wear a dress in a "safe house" - J having seen me only a couple of months earlier.
In June 2004 I'd just lost my job and was considering going full-time.
In 2 days time it looks as though I'll be walking through the security gates to Downing Street and joining in a reception at one of the most exclusive addresses in Whitehall, in full view of various media types.
Excited, scared, trying to maintain a sense of cool, wondering how on earth I'm going to fit everything else I need to do this week in - the gamut of emotions is huge. I thought meeting Ofcom in May 2010 was a huge step, then meeting folk at the BBC, then meeting one of the senior guys at Channel 4 in August, then having a series of meetings at Channel 4, then meeting/hosting a serving government minister at Trans Media Watch's launch in March, then being appointed to the Parliamentary Forum on Gender Identity last month... Since August life has been a whirl of ever escalating steps.
On Saturday afternoon, as the situation had just unfolded, I was standing in the churchyard of All Saints Church in Wokingham - half-an-hour before the rehearsal was due to start for a choral concert I was singing in that evening. In 2003 and especially the first part of 2004 that same churchyard was a bolt hole - my place near my office to walk and try to think. Seven years from taking her first tentative steps out into the world at large, Helen will be going into the heart of government.
Absolutely amazing. I still can't quite believe it. What on earth am I going to wear?!?
In June 2001 I would have been so nervous about being seen wearing a dress by anyone at all. I was just coming to terms with the fact that I was trans-something. It didn't mean that I didn't want to be seen - it's just that I feared the reaction.
In June 2003 I had plucked up courage to wear a dress in a "safe house" - J having seen me only a couple of months earlier.
In June 2004 I'd just lost my job and was considering going full-time.
In 2 days time it looks as though I'll be walking through the security gates to Downing Street and joining in a reception at one of the most exclusive addresses in Whitehall, in full view of various media types.
Excited, scared, trying to maintain a sense of cool, wondering how on earth I'm going to fit everything else I need to do this week in - the gamut of emotions is huge. I thought meeting Ofcom in May 2010 was a huge step, then meeting folk at the BBC, then meeting one of the senior guys at Channel 4 in August, then having a series of meetings at Channel 4, then meeting/hosting a serving government minister at Trans Media Watch's launch in March, then being appointed to the Parliamentary Forum on Gender Identity last month... Since August life has been a whirl of ever escalating steps.
On Saturday afternoon, as the situation had just unfolded, I was standing in the churchyard of All Saints Church in Wokingham - half-an-hour before the rehearsal was due to start for a choral concert I was singing in that evening. In 2003 and especially the first part of 2004 that same churchyard was a bolt hole - my place near my office to walk and try to think. Seven years from taking her first tentative steps out into the world at large, Helen will be going into the heart of government.
Absolutely amazing. I still can't quite believe it. What on earth am I going to wear?!?
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