Sukhi - Supporting Women Artisans!

I'm officially declaring this The Week of the Woman!  You heard it here first.  It seems only fitting - On Saturday Aly and I launched #motherhoodalive on instagram (holy moly, you guys are amazing - I am LOVING being part of this little community on there already), then it was Mother's Day, then it was International Women's Day, and in the midst of all of this, we are over halfway through the annual campaign of Fairtrade Fortnight, which although isn't specifically arranged to champion women, it is rooted in the same values that ensure the equal and fair treatment of some of the most vulnerable in the world - a vast majority of whom are female - so it's all connected, you see? The Week of the Woman - has a ring to it, no?

In light of this, I want to draw your eyes to a beautiful company I've been getting to know lately - Sukhi.  In Nepali, Sukhi means 'happy' and when you read about how much importance this company puts on making both the customer and the artisans that make their products happy and well cared for you will see that it's a good fit for a name!  Sukhi specialises in unique and beautifully hand crafted rugs - let me tell you more...

All of the rugs that you see on the site are made in country (Nepal, India, Morocco, Turkey) by local makers, mostly women.  What I've loved hearing about is the dignity the work gives - each maker gets paid 2 or 3x the local rate of pay in safe conditions and by buying the rugs directly with Sukhi, all the middle men and retailers are cut out so the customer gets a fairer price too.

The whole process of making their signature felt ball rugs is mesmerising and involves such incredible artistry.  I love that it's made with natural materials and dyes and you can really tell the pride of the makers by the quality you recieve. Watch this video to see what I mean...

I chose one of the traditional felt ball rugs in a marbled grey to go in our bedroom.  You can literally chose any colour, pattern and size for whatever you are after (fully customisable) but I wanted something soft and neutral to give a bit of warmth to our bare wooden floors.

The detail that goes into making these is so mind-boggling - approximately 5000 felt balls to make up one rug!  Bonkers.  Such craftsmanship and patience!

The texture of the rug is really soft on your feet - Levi is especially a fan! Anyone that's been in our bedroom since we got the rug has commented on how stunning it is - not that there are hoards of people all up in our bedroom, but you know!

What's also beautiful is that you get a little tag with your rug that lets you know the name of the woman who made it and if you go to the website, you can even send her a little message to thank her and share how much you love the rug!  It's little extra personal touches like this that bring us closer to the people who make our stuff - it's so important we remember and I can't help but want to support companies like Sukhi for endeavouring to shrink the gap between the maker and the customer.

I'm going to be supporting Sukhi on my sidebar this year - so if you are in the market for a new rug for anywhere in your home, make sure you click over and check out the variety they have knowing that you are directly supporting some amazingly talented women around the world when you do!

Thanks to Sukhi for sending us this rug to review - I love to support and spotlight companies that are in keeping with my values & ethics so all thoughts and words are genuinely my own. 

International Women's Day 2016

GAH - I just love International Women's Day. I love that we get to mark a day in the calendar to reflect on where we have been as women, look at what is still necessary for all women in the world to flourish and resolve to do more, be more, expect more in the years to come.

My workplace celebrated 10 years of marking IWD this year - a tradition started by my beautiful colleagues who run the Women's World Programme when the charity was just in it's infancy.  Even though I'm already on maternity leave, I wouldn't have missed it so I waddled down to spend the morning with over 100 women from dozens of nationalities who have somehow made their home here in our area.

That's me in the middle, caught in the act of gabbing away to my midwife friend about birth preferences and refusing unnecessary vaginal examinations...as you do.

But these women I spent the morning with.  These women are fierce.  They work, they contribute, they volunteer, they nurture, they resolve to thrive amidst the obvious and the silent challenges that living as an 'outsider' in an already polarised community brings.  Diversity is still a dirty word here.  We ate, we laughed, and we wept as we heard stories of these incredible women in our community who have overcome the most difficult things this year:  cancer, isolation, depression.  A grandmother now the primary care provider for her 3 grandchildren left behind after her daughter died tragically.  A mother who, only a couple of weeks after moving to Northern Ireland was attending English lessons when her two year old accidentally got caught in a blind cord at home and later passed away.

These women and their families have been extended the hand of welcome and friendship; of opportunity to painfully overcome with the support of our dedicated and compassionate teams at work, of generous local churches and of the kindness of individuals.  Such bravery.  It was a privilege to be there to honour them.

These WOMEN.  Their STORIES.  What COURAGE.

My friend Sharon reminds me that the small things are often the big things.

This years IWD theme is on 'pledging parity' - helping to move more quickly the divides and divisions that see and treat women as less than equal to men in so many facets of society.  When I see the audacity, tenderness and bravery of the women I have just mentioned, I am stirred up by the potential for women to continue to change the world because they already are.  They are standing in the gap, they are showing up and they are making things happen.  Their bravery, the sharing and acknowledgement of their stories is part of that pledge, it is bridging that divide.

For me, this pledge starts at home - in conversations with my four year old boy, as we model and discuss the value and abilities of women and girls. Through toys and stories and colours and conversations we are gently showing him - both Dave and I.

It continues in our marriage - in working things out together, being a team, having equal say in all decisions, modelling that there is no boss in our family but that we all mutually try to put each other first, championing each other's successes and dreams - dancing the dance of making sure everyones needs are met (this, the very heart of #motherhoodalive).

It then bleeds out into work, hobbies, friendships, how the communities around me are being built: everything to make sure that the voices, the stories, the plights and the successes of women are seen and heard in our homes, our communities and around the world.

So tell me, how can you pledge for parity in your family?  What ways are you seeing women championed that stirs you up?  What would you love to see changed for women in your own community and how can we do it together?  I'd love to hear from you!  I'm also linking up with Lulastic's IWD Blog Link Up, so if you want to read more from some awesome kick-ass women writers, do make sure to head over there for a good round up!

Slow Activism: 3 Key Habits for Long Lasting Social Change

Fear not the title, dear readers - activism is not an elite word, I promise - stick with me.  I don't know if you have ever been put off by or intimidated by that word, thinking "yeah sure, I care about stuff but I'm not an activist". Me too, and I'm on a mission to claim it back for the everyday person.  Here's how the dictionary defines it: noun 1.an especially active, vigorous advocate of a cause, especially apolitical cause.

Oooh, those words 'especially active' and 'vigorous' don't sit well with me - not in light of what I want to cover in this post today.  They glorify only the doing side of activism but today I want to open that word up, spin it about and hopefully give you some food for thought.

As I said before in the intro to this series on slowing things down, I'm a natural do-er; someone who when presented with an issue, likes to have a clear vision of what the action to take is and then sets a path to take it.  This slowing business isn't my natural rhythm but it's one that I've come to value and see the importance in so I hope that in dialoging with you through here and on facebook and twitter we can all, myself included cultivate and give ourselves permission to slow down and be more mindful.

I was raised as an activist.  My parents might not have seen to label their parenting in that way but I was definitely born into a family tuned into advocacy.  It was hard not to be when your parents were actively involved in social work from before you were born; welcoming all kinds of interesting and desperate people into our home, involved in a church that was practical and outward focused.  It was a vibrant childhood and they modelled compassion and inclusion so much so that it feels like part of my DNA.  I guess it's hard to tell when the activist in me really came to life because advocating has always felt natural.  I say that more as an observation of how I grew up than any kind of pious claim.

Och, would you look at us here - the 80's were kind to no one...

Having been involved in 'activism' for many years, both passively by observing the way my parents did life and then actively in my teen and adult years,  I'm really keen to explore it's many facets - and am particularly drawn these days to look at activism through the lens of 'slow';  to reflect on how maybe, if we can harness our energy for caring about stuff, and give it some mindful, purposeful legs we can actually see the world changing in a more long-lasting way.

I thought I'd start by sharing what I've identified as 3 key habits of slow activists that lead to long-lasting social change:

1)  A slow activist isn't deterred when the hype or lure of a mainstream issue or campaign dies down because they are in it for the long haul:

Let me take you back a few years to 2012.  This was the year that KONY 2012 hit our screens.  The world woke up one morning to a video by the charity Invisible Children going viral about Joseph Kony, leader of the Lords Resistance Army in Uganda and the war he was waging in vulnerable regions, forcing children to take up arms and become soldiers, raping women and taking over land.  I think by 5pm that night, every single person on my facebook had shared or mentioned the video campaign, including me.  We were fired up by this video and by the common outrage was kind of breathtaking to watch unfold.

In my vigour, I called my friend John.  John is the person who had first introduced me to the situation of child soldiers and war in Uganda and the DRC and has committed most of his adult life to being educated on the issue.

"Right John, so what are we going to do...?"  I asked him, thinking of all people John would be ready to 'cover the night' with me, rallying our mates and plastering Lurgan in posters about Kony and his tirade.

"Yeah Mel...I don't know about this..." he said cautiously.  In this excerpt from his 2012 blog he explains a bit why:

Overall the Kony 2012 campaign was entirely surreal to me. My major interest, research and passion over the past number of years has been on raising awareness about children who have been affected by war and attempting to provide the best possible assistance to them. I have heard hundreds of stories from young people about killing, rape, mutilation, looting, beating and grief.  Many evenings over pints with local friends in Uganda and the DRC I have asked questions about the political, spiritual and cultural forces that have caused this trauma.

It was meeting victims of the LRA in northern Uganda that helped me decide to quit teaching and study for a psychology doctorate. In 2010 we worked in Gulu, northern Uganda, with over 200 former child soldiers and other war-affected children. After that we spent a couple of years designing interventions that to the best of our ability were evidence-based, culturally-appropriate and effective in treating trauma and psychological distress in former child soldiers, sexually-exploited girls and other war affected children. We spent 3 months in the Democratic Republic of Congo delivering and evaluating this intervention. 

I mention these things not to compare or draw attention but rather to show my amazement at the great power of a 30-minute video clip in getting people talking. Our own travels and work pale in comparison to the 30+ years of life that has been dedicated by other amazing people who have quietly lived for others through the worst years of the wars in Uganda and the DRC.

Africans are not helpless, hopeless victims. They can find solutions to their own problems. We can support, as we would with any country, but we can’t do it for them. 

John is a slow activist.  Long after the buzz of KONY 2012 died down John was still there, plugging away at research and methods to protect and reduce vulnerability in some of the most fragile regions of these countries.  I give you this example to highlight how it is only really through long-term investment in issues that we care about that we can see proper impact.

Sure, these high profile awareness campaigns can be an entry point for so many people, bringing them into a place of knowledge and hopefully then committed action, but there are many drawbacks to thinking that these are the best ways to really effect change.

Are we willing to be satisfied by millions of people knowing a tiny bit of a large complex issue or are we willing to take the time to carve out an access route that can engage people in issues consistently and with depth and meaning?  It's a tough one.

2) A slow activist sees connection in everything and is able to champion activism in the everyday:

A year or so ago we launched a campaign at Freedom Acts called 'Everyday Activism' in a bid to dispel the myth that activism was only for the big gestured people, the ones who chain themselves to gates of big corporations, lie down in front of bulldozers or join in the big rallies.

However sometimes activism looks like calling out sexism on twitter.  Sometimes activism looks like respecting the rights of your children when they are in a tizz.  Sometimes activism looks like staying up late baking for a cake sale fundraiser.  Sometimes activism looks like going out of your way to buy ethically sourced coffee; like asking your local council to start a cloth nappy incentive scheme; like using your bicycle or two feet for shorter journeys.

It's not that these things are making a massive difference immediately (although I could definitely plead the case for respecting my child's rights making an immediate difference when he is in a tizz), and some of them may even go a little or entirely unnoticed.  Visibility doesn't make something more or less important.

The Craftivism Collective movement is a great example of this:

"Craftivist Collective was founded in 2009 when after years of marches, signing protests and working on campaigns for large charities, experienced activist Sarah Corbett had begun to doubt the effects of some conventional activism. The time felt right for a different, less aggressive approach.

A love of cross-stitching led her to Craftivism. Its appeal as a gentle, respectful and more targeted plea for social change was a perfect fit, and although as a principle ‘Craftivism’ already existed, it took no time for Sarah to develop her own unique strand. One focused on putting the contemplative moments spent stitching to work exploring global issues and using craft for critical thinking, questioning and considered creative activism."

All of these small every day things connect us to bigger picture issues and that kind of slow, everyday consistent activism builds foundations in our culture that eventually become norms.

3) A slow activist celebrates small victories, even when the weight of the burden still tips heavily the other way.

It is likely that if you consider yourself an activist, that you think deeply about things and sometimes in the midst of the heaviness of issues so demanding and complex, we fail to recognise the importance of small victories.  The Harvard Business Review did a study on small wins, and how breaking major goals down into smaller milestones “reduces fear, clarifies direction and increases the probability of early successful outcomes.”  It is so much more emotionally healthy for us to work this way - to feel mobilised instead of paralysed by the magnitude of need.

It is estimated that over 30 million people are currently being exploited in some form of modern slavery.  That's a statistic that's hard to swallow, and has the potential to daunt people into reactionary action (throwing money at the problem) instead of responsive action (finding a more sustainable way to have an impact).

From April of 2015 to now (Jan 2016) there have been 46 precious human beings recovered from being exploited in some form of modern slavery here in Northern Ireland.

That is 0.00015% of a dent in the issue.

Is it much?  No.

Is it worthless?  Absolutely not.

It is another increase on recovered victims from last year.  It indicates a better grasp than before - by police, by communities.  It is always worth marking this kind of small victory because it gives us the motivation and direction to keep moving.

If we are only ever wowed by huge changes; by implementation of laws or policies, then we are doomed to lose steam.  Those kinds of changes are hard won, they take time, endurance, and investment on many levels.  So many of the things that I long to see different in the world I will never see in this lifetime and I'm OK in that understanding because I know I am building on work that other people have started and if I do my part, there will be many that will pick up the reigns long after I'm gone.  We must not undervalue the small milestones that indicate we are on the right track.  These are our fuel on the long road to change.

I feel like there is so much more to say on this and I certainly haven't exhausted my thoughts.  I might come back to it over the year, giving examples of other slow activists that are deeply and intentionally shaping a culture to bring lasting change but now it's over to you - tell me:

+  Can you see how slow activism has the potential to bring about lasting change?

+  Do you feel less intimidated by activism when seen through this slow lens?

+  How can we champion this type of activism more in our culture and community?

I'd love to hear any and all of your thoughts so please do feel free to share this, leave a comment here or over on my blog facebook page so we can encourage each other.

What Are We So Afraid Of?

You can see it pretty much everywhere you look if you look closely enough.  It's there, glaring out at you behind most things.  It's a tiny little four lettered word that has enough power behind it to cripple even the most resilient of us all. Fear.

Most of my surface fears are easy to describe:

-  Flocks of birds flying towards me (there was an incident with bird seed at trafalgar square when I was a child that brought this on...ask my mother)

-  Large groupings of small circular bumps or holes (I swear, it's a thing - Tryophobia *shudder*)

-  That the stuff that goes on in Homeland is actually true in real life (Sarin gas leaked into Capital cities?  I'll never sleep again)

-  Falling down the stairs while carrying Levi (I have this visual in my head every. time. I go down the stairs with him in my arms)

Some of our fears are less easy to describe, though - and they lurk beneath the surface of our brave exterior, showing up in places and situations we might not expect.  Our actions and reactions reveal a lot about our fears.  Let me give you some examples of what I mean:

When we look in magazines or in celebrity gossip columns - our inner voice tells us we don't look like that, have enough of that or are having as much fun as that - that's the voice of FEAR and it holds the power to make us feel inadequate instead of the TRUTH that it's all just smoke and mirrors.

When we see racially isolating, sensational or inflammatory social media posts or articles - Muslims are out to kill us all, more guns is the answer, it's us against them - those posts are driven by FEAR, the world has gone nuts and we badly want to control the narrative and we demonise a whole entire religion instead of the TRUTH that there is more good in the world than there is evil and that violence begets violence.

It's there in relationships that are difficult, where there is back-biting, jealousy, power-playing - FEAR makes us withdraw, be defensive or attack instead of seeing each other as flawed humans that are all just trying to figure things out.

It's there in our overspending and consumption, when we see what everyone else is wearing or having and we break our necks to keep up appearances - it's our FEAR that runs ahead and cripples our finances to make sure we're not left behind instead of getting out of the rat race and enjoying the simple things.

It's there in Churches when heads are buried about important topics that are changing the face of our culture like LGTB issues, climate change, peacemaking, consumerism, racism and addiction - it's FEAR that refuses to face up and keeps the Church looking like a Sunday club for safe-talking holy joes instead of a place of acceptance and of strong leadership on justice issues.

It's there in parenting when we react poorly to our kids - it's our FEAR that rises up and causes us to resort to threats and punishments to try and enforce good behaviour instead of listening and being patient and modelling gentleness.

It's there in the smaller more subtle things too - so many of our decisions are based on our fears and it would seem that if we dig a little deeper we're all just walking around a bit scared of life, aren't we?

I've been thinking about how different it would be if only we could really hear the fear instead of how we see the fear manifested in these often unhealthy ways.  If we could hear the fear, it would say:

"I'm worried that I'm not enough"

"I'm worried that I'm not safe in my country"

"I'm scared that if we talk about difficult things in our Church we'll be ridiculed or seen as wishy-washy"

"I scared that I'm missing out on all the fun"

"I'm worried that if I give other people a platform, I'll become redundant"

"I'm not sure that my life is exciting enough"

"I'm worried about losing my religious freedom"

"I'm worried that if I give this person too much of myself they'll hurt me"

"I don't want people to think I can't handle being a parent"

"I'm afraid that if I can't do this that I'll lose attention from the people I want to respect me"

That all sounds a lot more human doesn't it?  Who wouldn't hold empathy if someone stood in front of them and confessed these things?  Who could turn someone away that told such naked truths?  And yet, every day we chose to let our fears have power.

You see, it's not that fear is bad - I think it's inevitable.  I think a certain dose of it is healthy and normal but when fear manifests itself in ways that aren't healthy it can lead to destruction, broken relationships and a lot of collateral damage along the way.

It's scary to be human, to be vulnerable and open, isn't it?  I'm challenged by how fear manifests itself in my own life, and how I can find the courage to be more vulnerable with my trusted people.

I think that truth-telling pierces holes in dark places.  When our difficult truths are exposed to the safe people in our own lives, the dark stuff (like our fears) have less control over us.  We can begin to face up to them and find healthier ways to manage.  I know this to be true.

I also know that when we begin to see how fear manifests itself in others we can hold back our judgement a little easier; cut each other some slack; carve out a road for vulnerability and invite those people to join us.

What are your thoughts on fear?  Are there ways that fear has been manifesting itself in your own life that have been unhealthy for you?  How can we live less afraid and give each other more permission to tell the truth? I'd love to hear what you think about this... let's continue the conversation in the comments or on my facebook page.