In the current political and environmental climate anger is bubbling beneath everything and everyone. So how do artists respond to or channel that? Far from being inward-looking, or simply reflecting the world we’re in, art can – and should – be reaching for a better future. And anger can help that happen.

So, as a playwright, I write about stuff I’m angry about. And in a matter of days, some of that anger is going to be unleashed, out loud, in the form of Hear Me Howl at the Old Red Lion Theatre, London.

I wrote this play because I’m angry about the limiting societal expectations placed on women. Despite the fact that the number of women choosing to remain childfree is rising year on year, it still raises eyebrows. There is still a pressure on women once they’ve reached a certain age to “settle down”, to “nest”’, get married and get a mortgage: expectations that the protagonist of HMH, Jess, has put up with throughout her twenties but now refuses to respond to with simply polite patience.

This comes at an exciting age of women now speaking up, women refusing to be silenced by harassment, sexism, prejudice, and traditional gender stereotypes that have gone on for years. And, as Jo Brand called out Hislop & co on Have I Got News For You ‘it builds up and it wears you down’. The patriarchy would have it that women would quite simply not feel anger. Or if they did, they should just swallow it. Note how Serena Williams’ recent challenge of the umpire was met with horror and penalties, as opposed to being a symbol of outspoken leadership. This tidal wave of female rage (#MeToo and #TimesUp) that is sweeping across the planet, crashing through the dusty outdated corridors of one industry at a time, thrills me and buoys me up to keep fighting – and to keep writing.

We have to do something with this anger, this female rage, – use it as fuel to change the rules; use our voices and our platforms, however small, to make change. That’s why punk – the ideologies, the music – runs through Hear Me Howl – because the essence of punk is about actively pushing against social norms and doing so unashamedly, with noise.

Hear Me Howl is a play about a woman who is ‘rebirthed’ when she repudiates convention, joins a post-punk band, and becomes politically engaged for the first time. Jess’ eyes are opened to not only her power as a woman, but also her environmental impact on a planet that is in crisis. With a series of post-show events from a female-led punk gig, to an abortion rights talk and a climate change film screening, we have engaged with a line-up of incredible women who are active with their rage, whatever that rage might be.

I asked the team, what does ‘punk’ mean to you? The answers to which I found so inspiring I’ve printed them off and stuck them on my fridge to remind me every day. Here is the nifty list – I hope it ignites the same little bonfire of courage in you too.

PUNK IS…
Imagination over rules
Challenging the status quo
Being loud, unapologetic, personal and political
Being like Vivienne Westwood and telling people that even though she has been brought to an event to discuss fashion she will actually just talk about climate change.
Not giving a toss about what society expects of you
Fighting to protect nature
Smashing the patriarchy
Screaming and sweat
Going against society’s norms
Pushing the boundaries of acceptable behaviour and having the bravery to step out of predefined roles
Sticking your finger up at society in order to help society evolve
Self-expression over convention
Pushing for a better future
Doing what you know is right even if it runs the risk of social rejection
An expression of defiance

And, just for fun, here’s the music we are howling to at the moment, from the punk to the.. Erm… not so punk…
The Chain and Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac
Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill
ABBA
X-Ray Spex, The Slits
You Can Call Me Al by Simon and Garfunkel
Ain’t No Doubt by Jimmy Nail
Demilitarise by Henge
Through the Long Night by Billy Joel

HEAR ME HOWL is playing from 18th – 29th September at the Old Red Lion Theatre at 7.30pm, with a preview matinee on Wednesday 19th at 2.30pm, and with Saturday matinees at 3pm.
For more details and to book tickets, click here:
www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/hear-me-howl.html

What makes you howl with anger? Or with freedom?! We’d love to know. Tweet us at @Hear_Me_Howl #hearmehowl and who knows, you may find your track on our show’s playlist.

The post HEAR US HOWL: ART AND ANGER By Lydia Rynne appeared first on The Quarter Club.

I have had moments were I have struggled to do this, periods of hesitation or inaction where I have been too soft, too polite, laughed it off, buried it inside me. A lot of people may have the same difficulties with this, but it can be harder for women because it goes against the ideal of how we are supposed to behave. An ideal of womanhood built on history and films, on cultural norms and ideologies that run far deeper than our individual journeys. We don’t want to be a burden, be seen as aggressive or rude, to complain, be uncaring or, the ultimate trump card, to be called “too emotional”. An incredible friend sent me an email reflecting on the myth of sacrifice as the greatest nobility, an act often made by women for everybody else. This ideal needs to be denounced as to suppress any person’s emotional or physical needs has damaging effects on everyone. It is not a reasonable expectation, it is not the same as love or as mutually beneficial, reciprocated compromise where the goodness that follows means there was no sacrifice.

We have all been destabilised by thoughtless or difficult interactions. We know that our hair, our curves, our clothes and our level of ‘femininity’ do not negate our intelligence or our right for respect, but often judgement from others has already occurred unconsciously and started to get under our skin. We might have been walking along full of fabulous, sexy energy when one lazy heckle made us doubt ourselves. We might have been hurt by a guy who chatted all evening to our male friends about politics and art, but whose only engagement with us was to tease us about our appearance. We might have felt awkward when someone unexpectedly tried to kiss us at a party and then was taken aback when we did not want to, because “surely we knew where this was going.” We might look away when we observe that words from a male colleague are received with so much more recognition than our own, even when we know what we are saying is correct. Maybe someone we respect is treating women very unfairly and we cannot find a reason big enough to justify their actions. Maybe we were groped, flashed at, or masturbated at on public transport and we ran away in horror.

The scenarios are, unfortunately, plentiful. And all too often the result is still this: We say nothing even though we know we would feel better if we pointed it out. We say nothing because we suppose it is not really a big deal, or because we are afraid of being too boring, pessimistic or impolite. Because we think we have left it too late. Because we think it would contradict our earlier understanding. Because we question ourselves before questioning others. Because we have been taught to cross the road away from danger rather than to ask why that danger exists. Because often it is the normalisation of the inequality or bad behaviour, the confidence with which it is executed, that means we make excuses for others or hide away from our own discomfort. So we keep our frustrations inside us, thorns that niggle away and eventually stop us from sleeping.

We need to be ready to catch ourselves when this happens, to transcend unhelpful judgement or fear, and keep on speaking out and kicking ass. And women everywhere are doing just this. Women of all ages and backgrounds are being brave, resolute and true to themselves and to others. I celebrate you all for your sassy awesomeness, for oozing magnificent, no-nonsense confidence. Please continue to stand up for yourself and others, argue back when you have to, cry if you want to, reveal yourselves as the complex and fully rounded human beings that you are in the way that suits your needs most. If we all keep going, the world will have no choice but to accept this and make space for us. Perhaps we feel compelled to speak up in ways that men have always been permitted to, but still can be seen as shocking coming from a woman. Perhaps we convey our dissatisfaction and our pain with more emotion than is socially acceptable. But do not apologise for your tears, they are the honest, physical expression of your feelings. And obviously, the more men who get it, the more men who can really listen and genuinely make room for us, who understand sometimes it is hard and painful, who can join in the party, the better it will be. And some of them do get it, and even more are trying to.

And clearly it is not a binary decision to either be caring or to be strong. The very notion of strength and how this should be manifested can be oversimplified and used to disregard the bravery of exposing vulnerability or compassion. Actually, strength and assertion grown out of care or a desire to understand can be the most powerful combination of all. Of course, the idea that women should be free to be fierce as well as tender is pretty easy to support for lots of people, the ideas expressed here are far from new. But I still believe this needs to be spoken about, repeated again and again with new words and fresh determination. Firstly, because not everyone is onboard yet. Not everybody gets it. Not everyone sees that repression due to gender inequality is a real thing, a horrible weight in the stomach of many societies that is detrimental to all, something that needs to be undone.

Secondly, it is vital to keep these ideas bubbling at the surface because reminders are still helpful for those already seemingly up to speed, because it is surprisingly easy for there to be a disconnect between our values and our actions. It can take time and effort for these to line up. For all sexes. Sometimes we might not even notice the disparity, until one day it becomes so glaringly obvious we cannot believe we did not see it before. And clearly, speaking up is not always easy. Even for the best of us there are moments where being our strongest, truest selves just feels too difficult. So how can we help ourselves? For me the key lies in reaching outwards, in connecting with those who speak to our hearts and sense of self. No woman or man is an island and there is no shame in drawing on the support and wisdom of others to feel better and figure stuff out.

Tune in with people who are thinking in all kinds of unexpected, insightful ways and putting it into words, music and art. Devour books that transform your pain into fascination, allow their words to educate and empower you. Read about other women’s’ adventures, other people’s journeys. Hunt out remarkable, thoughtful films that capture the essence of how it really is. Films about people whose lives are totally different from your own, whose struggle and bravery lifts you out of your own confusion. Listen to powerful, joyful, heartbreaking, sexy music that makes you want to move every fibre of your beautiful body. Turn it up and dance through your fear. Go to exhibitions were artists have splashed their anguish and their love on the walls as things of beauty. Seek out shows: challenging cabaret, intelligent comedy, meaningful theatre. Be in the literal space with people whose energies are big, colourful and full of passion.

Find your personal tribe and embrace them. Make a habit of sharing any strange or uncomfortable public or personal experiences with trusted, key friends whose values are in sync with your own. This past couple of years I have been very lucky to have travelled a great deal and been exposed to all kinds of new situations and fresh faces. But, of course, not every interaction can be positive. Weird moments are inevitable no matter where we are. During this time of exploration, I have taken immense pleasure in sharing my experiences and feelings with some important, astonishing people in my life, by speedy, virtual means, and by catching up whenever I’m back home, discussing and laughing over wine and love. These meaty, delectable conversations where we get to the heart of the matter are dynamic rivers in continual flow, there to engulf ourselves in whenever we need them. And these special bonds do more than make me feel good. They also make me far more likely to act in a way that is in keeping with what I believe is acceptable, and to do so with confidence. I know I am not alone. We dissect the big and small issues we are facing together. We wade in without judgement, reflect from different angles, make jokes, forgive our own mistakes and try to give advice we would give our own daughter. We get to be indignant on the other’s behalf. We share in and thereby diffuse each other’s pain. We gain perspective on our own predicaments, our own outrage. We test and develop our values. And it can be so much fun! We are making sense of this world in all its madness together. These people, they really get it. Maybe I don’t even need to check in with the real them because I already know what to do. But I feel their weight behind me, trusting and loving me. And this gives me extra courage.

My final tip is to keep hopeful and stay joyful. I choose to see the good in others first, to be optimistic not cynical about humanity. I have been very fortunate in so many ways so far in my life, and I am sure this makes things much easier for me than for many. The world can be beautiful through smiling eyes! But this optimism can be a bit dangerous. The world is also very unequal, and pain, fear, insecurity or lack of awareness can cause people to take all manner of negative actions that have wide reaching repercussions. Not everyone has our best interests at heart, not every person we meet is striving to be as fair or kind as they possibly can. There are too many external factors that are working against this, too many triggers that can cause people to do cruel and selfish things, to lack imagination. We must accept this reality, recover from our disappointment and be bold in calling out behaviour that is not ok on every level we encounter it. So stay positive and considerate, but do not be naive.

But do not punish yourself if you did trust too freely. Do not be angry with yourself for being too gracious, too accepting, for having high expectations, for feeling deeply and being human. Your instincts were probably right, it is the world that has not quite caught up yet. Keep believing in goodness. Be resilient and self-loving so negative experiences do not crush you. Your compassion, charm, wit and good nature, these are still your super powers. Grow from hard moments but do not allow them to poison your blood, to sour your smiles, to stifle your laugher.

You are so much more than them.

The post Maria Askew on Strength and Having the Courage to Kick Ass appeared first on The Quarter Club.

2. What does a day in the life of you look like?

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1. Tell us about you – what motivates you?

Other people. My company is run collaboratively which means we create our shows as an ensemble and also make company decisions collectively. This is a challenging and intensely satisfying way of working. My colleagues provoke me in all sorts of surprising ways! Having other people around to generate ideas with in the rehearsal room and to manage the practical side of running a company means I am continuously asked to consider different view points and find answers together. It is not always easy, but I have learned so much about theatre making through this shared process. For me it is about putting the work first, over ego or personal doubt, and finding a voice together. I am constantly learning.

Then, in a larger sense, the world we live in. Theatre is simply my response to some of what I observe and feel around me. And when audiences come along and share in what we have created, showing such understanding and joy, it is a truly incredible feeling.

Teaching students is also a very motivating aspect of my life. The students’ questions and courage make me want to share all I can and challenge them just like I have been challenged so far in my theatrical education. It is wonderful to be able to exchange my findings with their refreshing energy and varied outlooks on the world.

2. What does a day in the life of you look like?

Well, being a freelance performer and running my own theatre company means no day is ever the same! When I am touring a show, the day will probably be dominated by traveling, teching and performing. Another day might be completely different- I could be on a shoot working on someone else’s project, which can be a lovely change of rhythm and way of creating. Many days are focused on administration, meetings and general ‘faffing’. I enjoy the flexibility of working my own hours from home or perhaps in a cafe. It also means I can meet up with other freelancers, who often have similarly random schedules. Then in my free time, I love to be with friends, read, have dinners, see shows, go dancing – all these activities are very important to me too!

3. What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?

This question is so difficult! People sometimes say it’s very courageous to get up onstage and perform, but actually for me that can be one of the easier parts of my life! I love it. Moving to Paris to live alone and study at Jacques Lecoq Theatre School was definitely a very intimidating and brave move for me. And I am so glad I made that choice as it was a great adventure and has helped shape who I am today. But I also think my true moments of courage have been when I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and completely honest both in my professional and personal life, and being able to say words like ’I need help’ or ’I love you’ have all been part of this!

4. What does Balance mean to you in your life?

For me, balance has a lot to do with accepting what is. If I feel like I need to address the balance in how my days are spent and change something then generally I have the power to to do so, but if I don’t want to or feel I can’t then it is really about embracing the moment. It is good to remember that actually the world won’t fall apart if something doesn’t happen when or how I’d like it too- I am not that important, no one is! Life is a journey not an end point and I am enjoying the ride!

5. Who is your role model and why?

My mum. She is a one of the wisest women I know and has always been a source of inspiration for me. She came over to the UK from Ecuador many years ago and works as an oncologist in Bristol. She has affected many people’s lives through her wisdom and kindness, and is strong, courageous role model. A great deal of my strength and values come from her. My mum’s support of my choices has enabled me to study, travel, move abroad, set up my own company and ultimately find my own path, even when it seemed uncertain.

6. What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve read, seen or done in the last month?

Well, I spent the last month of August performing my show Jurassic Park at the Edinburgh Fringe festival and, while I was there, I saw some very inspirational theatre shows. One of these shows was a piece called K’rd Strip: A Place to Stand by a New Zealand based company Okareka Dance. The show is based on Karangahape road, a red light district area in Auckland, and the male prostitution scene that surrounds it. What it inspired me most about this show was that it felt very honest, relevant and brave, as well as totally unique and unapologetic in its form (a blend of cabaret, drama, Māori dance and comedy). The piece had me laughing one moment then with tears streaming down my face the next, and I love shows that achieve this dynamic! But the whole month at the Edinburgh fringe was a very inspiring and humbling experience. I met many brave companies and individuals putting on all sorts of work. If you haven’t been, I recommend checking it out

The post Maria Askew, Superbolt Theatre, Discusses Collaborative Working appeared first on The Quarter Club.

What does a day in the life of you look like?
I’d like to tell you that I leap out of bed when my alarm goes off, run 5km and then head into work for a day of productive action but it’s basically the opposite of that. I’m a terrible procrastinator and that starts the minute I wake up. I listen to the Today programme, scrabble around for something to wear and inevitably run out of the house late. Like every job there are things you have to get done, so I try to spend my mornings focussing on the stuff that has to happen. If I book too many meetings early on in the day I tend to get distracted by exciting projects and creative planning, then nothing happens. So I’ll get to the office, sit down at my desk, do any writing for that day, catch up with the team, look at our stats for the previous day and plan out our social media. Afternoons I like to spend meeting people, whether that’s existing contacts or potential new stories, and planning out content for the rest of the week. I get invited to loads of really great women’s networking events in the evenings and I try to go to as many as possible but I’ve had to restrict myself to about two a week. More than that and I find I’m not doing enough of the other stuff that I need, like seeing friends, exercising or just doing my washing. I always know that my diary is too busy when I’ve run out of clean knickers.

What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?
Hmmmm, I’m not sure. I’ve done a lot of stuff that in retrospect was a bit of a stupid idea but at the time seemed like an amazing opportunity…. I guess I don’t think much of what I do is that courageous. I think wherever you are in life, you always have options and it’s just up to you to pick the best one for your situation and for me, the best one is usually the one that makes my heart race. I always know instantly when I’ve made a mistake, I can feel it, and generally at that point I’m very happy to change my mind and go back on it. Maybe that’s the most courageous thing you can do, admit you’ve got it wrong and start again?

What does Balance mean to you in your life?
Balance is hard for me because I’m naturally an extremist. Left to my own devices I’m either going at full speed or I’m doing nothing. I’ve got better at controlling that but it’s still a work in progress. I don’t really think you can have a complete work-life balance if you love your job, and given how much time we spend at work I think loving your job is hugely important. Instead I like to think about all the good stuff that my life brings to my work and vice-versa. Some of my closest friends have come about through work and some of my best ideas for work have come when I’ve decided to take up a new course or do something different on a Saturday. I think women have spent a long time beating themselves up for not having a perfect balance, instead of celebrating how much each area of their lives can bring to the others. That said, I’ve become one of those people who bangs on about how they need yoga in their life or they go crazy. I never thought that would be me but it is, I’m a crazy yoga lady and proud of it.

Who is your role model and why?
I’m not sure I have just one. Or that I’d even use the term role model. There’s no one woman who I look at and think, “your life is the one I want”. But I am lucky enough to meet lots of amazing women who have fabulous lives and inspire me to bring some of that into my own. The second I meet someone with a brilliant idea, loads of passion and a sense of humour I know I’m going to think, “I want to be like you”.

What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve read, seen or done in the last month?
I’ve just finished reading Triggers by Marshall Goldsmith which I heartily recommend if, like me, you can’t stick to anything for more than a week. But it’s more practical than inspiring. I’ve been lucky enough to work with some brilliant coaches including Nikki Armitage and Patti Fletcher, both of whom are incredible. I went to an amazing female entrepreneur’s event, Flock, which gave me so much enthusiasm. At least twice each week I’ve had coffee with women who inspire me. I had dinner with four of my oldest friends who know me the best and give the best advice. And I spent a week in Portugal with no wifi, daily yoga and two of my best friends, where we did little more than sleep and drink wine. It’s amazing how inspiring those two things are!

If you’ve yet to check out the continually inspiring Guardian Women In Leadership (hold up- where have you BEEN?), check it out here

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Hello, arty-farties! COOO-EEEEE! Oh you’re looking so ‘now’. That scarf wistfully draped around your shoulders, your vintage hat at its jaunty angle. Darling. You’re just. MMM. You know? Oh sorry, haven’t got time to read this because you have twelve jobs and 48 unpaid freelance projects on the go? Sweets, honey, you must be ex-haaaauuuuusted.

Luckily, in your spare time you get to hang out in low-budget watering holes, like your house, and have one-way conversations with minor acquaintances like this:

‘Alright? What do you do then? Oh yeah? Bit of this, bit of that? WHY DON’T YOU GET A PROPER JOB, YEAH? LIKE ME. YEAH? I BREAK ROCKS FOR A LIVING, AND WHAT? You people. Expecting ordinary, hard-working, ordinary, law-abiding, ordinary hard-working taxpaying law-abiders to dish out taxes to fund your contemporary dance interpretation of the effect of capitalism on the disenfranchised youth of modern Britain. You make me sick. Sick to the very core of the existence that I have no intention of attempting to understand. GOOD BYE.’

Or something. But look. Listen. Look. You’re thinking, go away, I’ve already read everything on The Guardian about how our generation is aimlessly floundering but we can blame it on fat cats. Or thin cats. Just basically loads of cats so whatever just stop it now. But the cats are simply not at fault here.

So answer me this, ye dreamers, ye thinkers, ye farting-arounders.

Let’s say you had to get that day job to get by, and we understand and you’re doing well and good for you. But there’s a problem. Oh god. Turns out, right, annoyingly, you’re like totally good at like a buttload of stuff, and want to do something with that repertoire of whatever it may be – writing, acting, designing, persuading – the thing you know deep down is what you’re meant for. Are you going to ignore it when it tingles deep in your brain in the night time? Are you?

Perhaps, and fair enough. Surrounded by people who think anything creative and interesting and worthwhile that is summat to faff on with till you get started on your ‘actual’ career, you wonder what the point would be. Fine, and whoever’s telling you that can get on with it. We know full well they’re probably the sort of person who says things like ‘I don’t watch television’ and ‘I don’t read’ (yes you do and WHAT THE HELL). Michael Owen has seen eight films. I’ll just leave that there for you.

So, everyone knows painting a picture can’t restart a heart. And it doesn’t pay for a monkey butler either. But if we’re honest, there’s not a fat lot of point in surviving that life-threatening illness, nor is it worth earning all that dosh, if there isn’t something worth living for.

Must your ‘day job’ become your be all and end all? Says who! But why! Must your mortgage-and-bills work eat you alive? Rise up! Stand tall! Should your dinner party conversation be reduced to which of the A-roads will be an absolute *nightmare* with those new traffic lights? Are you the one with the story that ends with ‘and then the HEAVENS just OPENED! AHAHAHA!!!!’

If you’re like me and you do a money job plus multiple non-money creative ones, you’ll notice how each half of your life becomes the lesser half depending on your environment. Now, I have landed a day job I do enjoy in academic administration. Good for me. But holy Jesus it took some days of boring my arse off to get here. This included years of robotic PA work whilst studying. Here’s a week that didn’t happen, but let’s pretend.

Monday. Type numbers into computer for reasons. Write poem on smashed iphone about the shame of existence.

Tuesday. Managing Director requests 25 cans of Coke Zero (not Diet Coke, that’s for fat girls), five identical white shirts and a selection of legumes. Attend seminar analysing the implications of performance reconstruction at The Globe. Feel parts of brain disintegrating.

Wednesday. Have a fight with a manager about who left a fan heater on in a meeting room. Think about Tolstoy, how I have no intention of ever reading Tolstoy, and what this means for my shameful existence.

Thursday. Pay £8 for a salad. Fulfil all notions critiqued in poem about shameful existence. Download mindfulness app. Ignore mindfulness app.

Friday. Telephone Lord Farquah-Farquahson’s PA, ask her to deliver the fur hats to the lake house. Consider all other career options available in life including, but not limited to, breaking rocks.

And depending on who asks, I say, ‘Oh yes, I work at Oxford University, fnarr’ and theatre is the postscript, even though my most recent roles have been as an assistant director on an outdoor King Lear, and a dramaturg with the Young Vic (for the love of it, for the experience, and yes – for free). And in the theatre world (whatever that is) I’m an assistant director and dramaturg and script reader and writer plus all the other million things I have tried on for size, but I suppose I work at a university aswell. So what the hell am I? A freakish indecisive freaky mutanoid creature freak?

Well, I hope I’m not so different to any other girl in their mid-twenties who knows how important, and how difficult, it is to live a life well-balanced: affordable and productive in equal measure. And I too live in the hope that pushing forward in unpaid creative work will eventually yield enough experience for a paid job in something productive, useful, valuable – where ‘value’ does not mean ‘money’.

Here’s a cheerful closing thought – the consistent trudge towards untimely death. What do people remember on their deathbeds? What will you? Grim, yes, but make yourself wonder for a second. Will it be how fulfilling that spreadsheet completion was in 2008? How that nice car made you realise your self-worth? Or will you think about what you didn’t do because you couldn’t make the time, or because you were scared about having two lives at once? How scared are you now, at the end, knowing you didn’t fulfil that potential?

Don’t be afraid to balance those two sides of yourself – you won’t make a half-arsed job of each, I promise. You’ll be more than the sum of your parts. If you work hard, and aren’t afraid to ask for help, you could start being the very thing you’d like to go and watch, read, see and feel in the arts. Now stop faffing about on the internet you lazy mare. There’s work to be done.

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1. Tell us about you – what motivates you?

People are fascinating. If you take the time to speak to someone on the street for longer than five minutes, you are 90 per-cent likely to find out something really interesting that will stop and make you think. I’m motivated by human beings and their complicated – but sometimes beautifully simple – stories. I think if we all took a little more time between the skinny lattés and Twitter updates to stop and talk to each other, the world would be a much better place. We spend too much time in our own heads and I think it’s tragic, so I guess my motivation is the desire to share, learn and celebrate.

2. What does a day in the life of you look like?

Not particularly exciting! I get into work at about 8.45 (apt time for stress-free porridge making in the kitchen)  and the first thing I do is log onto The Female Lead’s Twitter(oh god – how did I become one of those girls?). It’s a bit pathetic, I know, but Twitter has been a really key tool in spreading the world of The Female Lead and has led to some pretty hefty connections for The Female Lead book too. I’ll usually have a scout around for stories about amazing women or newsworthy female issues and schedule them to be tweeted throughout the day. Oh and Google Alerts too – they’ve been an unlikely blessing! The working day varies depending on whether I have any interviews book in or events to go to or if there’s a piece I’m working on. I am lucky enough to be invited to lots of events filled to the brim with inspiring, kick-ass women so if there’s something on I try my best to go. You never know who’s stories might be on offer… Otherwise it’s chasing women to take part in The Female Lead book – which is much more time consuming than it sounds! Most of the chasing and scheduling has to be done in the afternoon, and sometimes later into the evening as most of the women we deal with at the moment are U.S. based.

3. What’s the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?

I’m definitely not much of a dare devil – even small lifts make me nervous. I guess leaving a very large news corporation and international publishers to begin working on a relatively new start-up was the biggest risk I’ve ever taken. Having said that, I’ve never looked back for a moment and I’ve never been happier.

4. What does Balance mean to you in your life?

Balance is being able to enjoy each and every aspect of your life to its full extent. I’ve always found that if one aspect of your life is off kilter and taking up too much head-space, it tips the scale and trickles into the other areas of your life. Work hard, stay late, do overtime but stop when it makes you unhappy. Life’s unfair, random and, to be honest – can be pretty shit – so you may as well enjoy the few things that are under your control.

5. Who is your role model and why?

How long have you got? I have about 10 million! I would say my amazing mother Simmons who is obviously the most remarkable woman in the world, but that’s painfully unoriginal so…

Our founder, Edwina Dunn is a very special woman. Not only has she achieved a huge amount in her career and fought her way up in the male dominated industry of data science, but she is absolutely dedicated to using her position to helping the next generation. Her passion for encouraging young people to achieve their goals is infectious and her enthusiasm spurs me on to believe that we have the power to drive a worthwhile change. Not to mention the fact that she is honestly one of the kindest and most generous women that I have ever met. Oh, and she’s a great provider of sweet treats for the office – which always helps!

6. What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve read, seen or done in the last month?

Sometimes, I have days at work when I think, “surely this can’t be my job?”. A few weeks ago, I had one of those days. I heard Michelle Obama was making an appearance at a girls’ school in East London so last minute, I managed to wangle my way onto the press list. Not expecting to get anywhere near close to the action, I thought I may aswell pop down for an hour and see if – at the very least – I could sneak a tweet out of it.

When I was shown my designated seat with a clear view of the stage, I couldn’t quite believe my luck. Low and behold, out came FLOTUS from behind the curtains (accompanied by the scariest friggin’ mafia-style security team EVER), and I was transfixed. Speaking with such honesty, devotion and conviction, The First Lady explained to a room full of teenage girls, in one of the poorest areas in London, how they could set about achieving their dreams. Although Michelle’s face (and mightily toned arms) was a mesmerizing sight, what I really couldn’t take my eyes off was the look on the girls’ faces as they watched one of the most powerful women in the world tell them that they were “brilliant, beautiful, intelligent, talented” and ultimately held the key to the success of the next generation. I felt my toes tingle as I watched something flicker in each and every one of those girls, almost as if a switch had gone off and suddenly, all the doors were open and everything was possible. It was the most inspiring and thrilling event I have ever been privileged enough to attend and I pledge to support FLOTUS forever.

The post Eve Simmons: Editorial Assistant For The Female Lead Talks About The Happiness She Found In Leaving A Large News Corporation For A Start-Up, Human Stories And Michelle Obama appeared first on The Quarter Club.

Honestly? Money. I’ve earned my own money, and loved earning my own money, since I got my first Saturday job at 15. When I was 16 my teacher told me I had to stop working or drop an A-level, so I dropped the A-level (history). I don’t come from a poor family but neither is it one with lots of ‘spare’ cash sloshing about. It’s one where what you earn – and what you save out of that for the future, carefully – is what you have and you can take pride in anything you buy with it (be it stuff or self-protection) because your own efforts made it. I’ve never had any grand plan or ambition in an abstract sense. I never thought I’d be a writer, so I’d just like to be able to keep doing this job, something I like to do and – I think – am good at and which keeps me financially secure. That’s the dream.

2. What does a day in your life look like?

A bad one is lots of different bits of work with short deadlines squeezed in between bouts of childcare, admin, cooking, laundry and other bollocks. A good one is long stretches of decent writing (or research for the book I’m currently working on, about children’s literature) time interrupted only by cups of tea and maybe a walk round the park if the weather’s good. The former drive me fucking demented, the latter happen too rarely to be restorative. But most days are somewhere in between. I am permanently in need of a three hour nap but I manage to limit the fulfilment of this desire to about once a month. Twice, tops.

3. What is the most courageous thing you’ve ever done?

Left a career in the law to become a freelance writer. I shit myself daily still.

4. Tell us about your relationship to change?

Hate it. Fear it. Not built for it. Go to great lengths to arrange my life so that it does not occur. Will accept it only with the greatest reluctance and resentment.

5. Who is your role model and why?

I don’t have one. I know we’re all supposed to but I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever looked for them. I have friends I admire hugely for who they are, what they’ve done, how they approach various aspects of life, but they are mostly ones I made in later life when the need for role models has passed.

6. What’s the most inspiring thing you’ve read, seen or done in the last month?

Apparently, the futurist Alvin Toffler asks Fortune 500 CEOs who bring him in as a consultant to their businesses and so on, “How productive do you think your workforce would be if it wasn’t toilet-trained?” It’s a way of making people think about how much we take for granted, especially when it comes to women’s unpaid work, and how just because things some how go unseen and unrewarded they can nevertheless be impossibly valuable. We should all, as women, remember that when we come to evaluate our own worth in a job or situation, and in the wider context too. Also, it gives me hope that when print does finally die and I can no longer make a living, I could retrain as “a futurist.” What a time to be alive. What a time to be alive.

The post Lucy Mangan: Guardian Columnist, Stylist Columnist And Book Writer Talks To TQC About Career Change, Motivations And Napping appeared first on The Quarter Club.

I was 17 before I set foot in a theatre. It wasn’t something our family did. We didn’t have many books at home either-not novels or poetry anyway- mostly, as I remember it- there were my dad’s journals from The British Dental Association and Oral medicine textbooks. They were full of terrifying photographs of pustule-ridden jaws and cracked molars. As an 8 year old, I could tell you about Gingivitis, but not about The Cheshire Cat.
Don’t feel sorry for me though. What my family lacked in literary resources, we made up for with imagination. I was not read bedtime stories as a child, instead my dad made up stories on the hop, sitting beside me on the covers while I, tucked up underneath, was the best crowd ever.

“What do you want it to be about?”
“…of when you were a little boy.”

And there, a love for storytelling, listening and improvisation was born. I drifted off to sleep in the cocoa plantation behind my dad’s childhood home where he used to hide himself to bunk off school; or being chased by angry little monkeys whose mangoes he’d stolen. These things I’d never seen or experienced, but nevertheless I lived out vividly in those moments through those stories. So I should possible correct my opening statement:
As a child I was taken to the theatre every night.

Back to 17 year old me. That night, at the first public theatre I’d ever been in, my heart staged a coup on my rational mind. We were at The National Theatre, watching Hamlet.

I’d never read a Shakespeare play apart from bits of enforced Romeo and Juliet in English at school. Hamlet, as far as I knew, was a brand of mild cigar. Drama was officially labeled ‘A Hobby’. Where I was coming from actors were white, posh and having drunk sex with any random passer-by. Also, I was the stranger at the party that night- this was the A-Level English trip and I was studying Physics, Chemistry and Biology- shaping up to take over my dad’s dental practice, as planned. It was to be a life of regular holidays, regular paychecks just…regularity. Not a bad life, in fact a good life. Just that it was somebody else’s life, not mine.

That night, I found out how far I’d been alienated from my own heart, which was full of questions and curiosities. How diligently I’d been taught and learned to leave apple carts upright; stones unturned. How well I’d learned my lines, taught to me by the prevailing culture here at that time and still being recited by little girls and women everywhere: ”Remember, above all other things, to be pleasing ”.
At the end of 3.5 hours of Ian Charlesdon’s now legendary Hamlet (I had no idea who he was at the time) I was weeping, sitting on the edge of my seat, thinking, “Doing THAT is what the rest of my life has got to be about.”
My heart had come to get me. The courage I found, which is only one type of courage, was the courage to be honest with myself and give my heart some legitimacy and a voice in my life.

Courage. The word, has a Latin root: ‘cor-‘: ‘heart’. An early definition of courage was “To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.” I told everyone then that I planned to become an actor, and dealt with the series of life explosions that happened- the expectations I dashed, my reputation as a reliable, predictable person smashed: I was saying I’d give up my A-level studies with a year to go in a school which was fiercely academic. My parents have only just got up off the floor-it’s taken about two decades.

When I said I was going to be an actor, it was bad enough, but if I dared to describe myself as an artist, I noticed, the effect was off the scale. That phrase, “I’m an artist” was met with ridicule and embarrassment by so-called normal people – a sort of “oooh, get you!” attitude. It still is, sometimes. But that’s what I am. I create stuff: art, so I guess that makes me an artist (also known as a poncey-lay-about-workshy-fop).

By now, the labels don’t stick. Name-calling is the prime sport of cynics. Don’t listen to cynics, by the way. Cynicism is just fear in a suit with a couple of GCSEs. I remember one sitting me down in the young days of my ambitions and telling me that it didn’t matter how talented I was, English people didn’t want to see people like me on their screens and stages. They wanted Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn (who doesn’t?!).
“They’ll never want you. You’re not their idea of beautiful,” he said, “You can’t make a success of it-”
And then the classic passive-aggressive knockout punch:
“I’m saying this because I don’t want you to make a fool of yourself.”
Well he was partly right. My race has been an issue- but for other people, not me. So here I am and I don’t apologise either for being born female or brown or for being those things and daring to put myself ‘out there’. Those two things are how I was made to be. If either or both of them make somebody uncomfortable, then they need to ask themselves some hard questions. Just don’t ask me to disappear to make you feel better. I’m not going to do that.

That sounded convincing didn’t it? That list of defiances I just trotted out. But those statements don’t slide easily out of me. I’m not just ‘that type of person’- strong, strident whatever you want to call it. I don’t really buy into that- that one person is naturally brave while another will always be timid. I think people are more complex. If I’ve learned anything about character over the last 16 years as an actress, it’s that nobody in the world is just one thing all the time- they are on some level, choosing how to be to deal with the situation they find themselves in. Sometimes, you just have to be brave because a life depends on it, say. But often- you don’t. Courage of the kind I’m talking about isn’t an everyday imperative. You don’t have to listen to your heart. Nobody will make you follow your dreams. You don’t have to try and make the world a better, fairer place. There are others- who are probably getting paid to do it!

Courage, like this takes work; takes time. It’s seeing that there might be a choice and not ignoring that choice. You’re making that choice, not once and for all- but once and for all every day. Those brave, unapologetic statements I made before come out of standing on the brink of things and “yes”, but being very worried that I was doing the wrong thing and about to make my life worse rather than better. They come out of knowing what being laughed at feels like. They come out of being the cynic who’s raising a nasty eyebrow and then hating myself. They come out of experiences like getting taken to pieces by a theatre critic in a National newspaper and then having to get back on the stage the night after and do the whole thing again- without measuring myself by his pronouncements.

There’s that famous quote variously attributed to Mark Twain and Nelson Mandela about courage not being the absence of fear, but making the choice to do something despite the fear. In my experience, that’s true. Any bravery I’ve shown has come out of knowing how it feels to be weak, scared and rejected in the past and doing the thing anyway. The work of being courageous is in taking oneself through that choice:  “Come on, Me. Let’s just bloody do this!” Then getting through the stuff that’s on the other side of it: “Well, that was awful. Let’s do it again but better.” Or “-that was amazing! Let’s do it again and better.”

There’s another type of courage. ‘Encouragement’ has the word courage in it quite rightly. Anything brave I’ve done, I’ve done in company. You take your journey, your learning, the confidence you’ve built and you nourish other people with it. I think it would be revolutionary to work places and social spaces if we could find the courage to be kind rather than pointlessly competitive. What if we stopped comparing ourselves with others and sang our own, unique note- out loud, true and free and damn the Haters? Who are these Haters anyway? They’re you and me when we’re weak and frustrated. They’re not them; they’re us. Can we free them and ourselves too? That would be really brave and hopeful.

Courage and Hope: those two great intangibles that, along with Imagination, make humans illogical in such a magnificent way. So here, this is encouragement from me to you: begin!

The post Pri Burford’s Questionings #1: From Her Talk On Courage At Salon #1 [Courage] 20.04.15 appeared first on The Quarter Club.