Now We Are 28: On Beauty and Bravery

This week on the internet women taking pictures of themselves without makeup on has been a bit of a thing. It's supposedly in aid of cancer awareness and the associated donations have raised more than £2 million for Cancer Research UK. Millions of pounds in under a week from one-off donations and goodness knows how much more over the long term from people deciding to commit to regular donations to combat a disease which kills people indiscriminately and whose cure often leaves people maimed and forever changed is pretty incredible. So surely an internet campaign that not only raises awareness of cancer but also funding for research into a cure for cancer is good, right?

Apparently not... I've seen a significant amount of criticism of the campaign for various reasons: people taking photographs without donating, which to a certain extent is fair enough, although given the outcome I can't see how this is a legitimate complaint; and the word "brave" being applied to both bare-faced women and cancer sufferers. Taking a photograph of yourself without cosmetic enhancement is seen somehow as a fluffy, ethereal thing and not worthy of sharing an adjective with people suffering from a life-threatening disease. Whilst I agree that taking a photograph and fighting cancer are clearly not the same thing I really object to the belittlement of people making a genuine gesture for a cause they believe in - particularly in light of the outcome. 

The undertone to a lot of the criticism I've seen is also extremely patronising - silly little girls thinking they are brave for putting a photograph of their naked face on the internet, they obviously don't understand what it means to be really brave. However, for a huge number of women in our hyper-sexualised, image obsessed society, going without makeup or appearing in any way less than "perfect" is a genuinely courageous thing to do. Standing up and saying "here I am, with all my flaws and imperfections naked to the world" is a very hard thing for women to do because we are told constantly that being ourselves is just not good enough. As women we are constantly told we need to be thinner, curvier, prettier, fitter, quieter, happier, sexier, more natural, less demanding, more demanding and so on, ad infinitum. To challenge that in any way, however minor, is an act of defiance. It doesn't make cancer sufferers any less brave, it simply demonstrates a willingness to challenge yourself in support of a greater cause.

Now We Are 28: On Nationalism

I'm not a big fan of rampant nationalism or of nationalist politics. The Nigel Farages and Alex Salmonds of this world, with their clarion cries about the greatness of the nation-state, leave me cold. Nationalism values people because of where they come from rather than who they are or who they might become which is pretty much anathema to everything I believe in.

You see, in the words of Scroobius Pip, I'm from a little place called Great Britain but I don't know if I love or hate Britain. There are lots of things that make being British wonderful - incredible landscapes; the national obsession with tea; the amazing diversity of our language and culture; the prevalence of social liberalism; our rich sweep of history; and Doctor Who to name but a few. But then there are lots of things that make Britain absolutely awful - our political system; ingrained sexism; casual racism; the M6; the bloody weather; the ability of the England cricket team to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory; flags on cars during football tournaments; the Daily Mail; the EDL... You get the idea. There are days I love living in the UK and days I loathe it but I'd never really say I'm proud of being British. How can you be proud of something that's an accident of fate? It's like saying I'm proud of having green eyes - I had absolutely no say in the matter!

People are though, aren't they? Proud of their little strip of land, of their English (or Welsh or Scottish or Irish) descent and scathing about anyone who isn't from these shores. Given that the UK is essentially an island of incomers this always seems to me a rather hypocritical position to take but whatever. I don't get it, how does love for one's country become hatred for other countries and other people? Surely you can have affection for the place you were born or where you live without using your nationality as a weapon to oppress others? And if your strip of land is that great why don't you want to share it with people and attract people from all over the world who can add to it's greatness? After all, this island would be pretty empty if it weren't for immigrants...

Now We Are 28: On Writer's Block

I'm really struggling with blogging at the moment and I have been for a while. The reason I started this "Now We Are 28" thread was as a way of getting back into writing, something I have always loved doing, but I've struggled so much more than I thought I would. I either have nothing to say or no confidence in what I'm writing which is weird considering I never bloody shut up and consider writing one of my core skills. 

So why am I feeling like this? For a start I'm definitely out of the habit of writing anything. I used to spend a lot of time writing both personally and professionally - I did a history degree for goodness sake, if I wasn't reading some mouldy old tome I was writing about why I agreed or disagreed with the author of said mouldy old tome. I was also a very angsty teenager (and twenty-something) with a penchant for keeping diaries chronicling my dating disasters and emotional dilemmas. Nowadays I have a job that seldom requires me to write anything original and virtually zero emotional angst. Does that mean I have nothing to say? Well obviously not, as anyone who's ever got me drunk and asked me about politics or feminism or The Smiths or people's attitudes to cyclists (and so on) will attest. Do I write this stuff down? Not really. Why not? Um... 

Often I have my best thoughts when I'm out walking the dog or cycling to work and so when I come to try and write them down my ideas seem to vanish like smoke. I'm not writing to any purpose, I don't have any particular desire to have my blog read by thousands of people or to become a Guardian columnist. I just want to occasionally empty my head of the thoughts which buzz around in there. So why do I struggle to commit words to (virtual) paper so much? Partly I think because I'm my own worst critic - I have about ten half written posts for this blog that I've dismissed as too boring, too personal or too ranty. These days everyone writes and there's always a little voice at the back of my mind that asks "what's the point? What have you got to add?" 

I don't know the answer to that question. But maybe I don't have to add anything, maybe I can just write for my own reasons. I've never known how to silence that voice in my head that tells me I'm not good enough but maybe it's time to learn how.