Steph History

When I started this blog, many weeks ago, I tried to explain how I got into the whole politics thing. I've just come across something I wrote on the very earliest day, when I had been to a hospitals protest in Cardiff last March. Looking at the piece with fresh eyes and hindsight, I feel quite emotional about just how far I have come in the last year-and-a-bit. I want to share it:
 
NB: SWAT = Save Withybush Action Team, and FYI, I have my driving theory test next Tuesday after work and should be doing the practical one within a couple of months, all being well.

Got the weather I'd asked for (sorry to those of you in London who got Pembrokeshire's weather instead), and got to the hospitals protest ok. I am quite enamoured of shiny, glossy Cardiff Bay, and I disagreed with one of the women on the protest who said that the new Senned building was a waste of money. I said that my preference would have been for them to choose a heritage building to renovate for it, but in the circumstances and to match the surroundings they did a very good job - it's important for the parliament building to be a focal point for national pride, somewhere that is imposing enough to say "this is where the Welsh people are ruling for themselves for the very first time".

The outcome, as is often the way with these things, was quite vague. We did have some press photographers out to meet us, which is good. Brian Gibbons met with senior members of the SWAT and assured them that Options 1 and 2 of the Designed to Deliver document have definitely been scrapped, and that option 3 is under serious consideration from the planning committee. We remain sceptical and vigilant - the chances are, given that the planning committee are for the most part the selfsame people who drew up the original options, that we will be spun their original ideas cleverly represented as a third way.

I didn't go into today with expectations of getting much out of it for myself. Although the people who are interested and passionate enough to show up for the protests are pleasant to converse with, I am a fair bit younger than all of them and I have a limited amount in common with them. I hadn't actually considered the fact that I was going somewhere where politically minded people abound, though. I was taken under the wing of some of the Welsh Liberal Democrats after expressing approval of their party line on this and many other issues, have joined the party which is something I meant to do when I was 17, but reserved judgment on in case I changed my mind as I got older. It was so refreshing to get into lengthy discussions with people who knew what I was talking about on pet subjects like Lords reform, proportional representation, ID schemes; and some British history of voting reform, the formation of the welfare state and so on. The company I have tended to keep for a long time has been mainly the type that feel no interest for history or current affairs and much as I have longed at times to rant about issues of the day in real life, with real people, I have kept my mouth shut knowing that I would just be seen as a show-off :(

The downside to the whole day for me was the fact that almost every person I talked to, well-meaning and lovely though they were, at some point inevitably caused that sinking feeling in my insides when they asked "so, what do you do for a living?". It's a horrible thing, for those of you who don't know let me tell you, to watch someone's face change from being captivated and impressed to slightly scornful, then quickly frame itself into something a little more charitable right before your eyes, when you tell them that the erudite and passionate young woman they have been so enjoying talking to for the last half hour has been unemployed for twelve months, isn't a post-grad as they assume, and can't even drive.

I do think my not driving, with the various attempts to learn being thwarted by whatever personal circumstances prevailed each time, makes a neat metaphor for my whole professional life. Stalling every time I start. To be perfectly honest, when I reflect on what jobs I *have* had over the years since I left full time education, I wouldn't have been proud to name any of them as my career to these people, either. I wish, I suspect along with a fair proportion of people of my age and ability, that some opportunity to prove myself, some answer for what I should be doing with myself would present itself from the heavens, because I really don't know what it is I'm meant to do, only that at the moment, I'm really not doing it.

What I did today was a small thing in terms of effort. All I had to do was get up on time and get myself to the right place to show a little support for a cause that has a direct effect on my quality of life and that of all my local friends and family. I think that's pretty much a duty, if you have the free time. Still, my mum is proud of me and I'm a little proud of myself too, which makes a change. It's the first time I've felt proper pride in myself since I was in Samaritans (which I would do again like a shot if I had the means to get to Haverfordwest in the evenings). It's just a pity it had to come with a gruelling day of repeatedly facing up to who I am in the eyes of people I would like to impress, and not liking what I faced.

This candidate is lush, but honestly not *a* lush!

Today was nice.

Lots of other days in the last two weeks have been not so nice - like finding out that one of the people I thought might support me on my ward has decided to stand herself, making it a tougher fight; or like having one of my nominators write their name in lower-case letters when the form asks for block capitals so I had to go out and get all ten signatures again at the eleventh hour. I'm not going to dwell on those days though, because now my name is going to be on the ballot paper and I can breathe a little easier for getting this far.

A group of five Carmarthen West and South Pembs Lib Dems descended on the Pembrokeshire County Council offices today, to drop our forms off and have them checked. It was good to spend time with some of them under less pressure than normal, we stopped in town for lunch and made each other laugh. Well, I rather suspect they did more laughing at me than laughing with me, but that's ok when it is justified.

Why would anyone want to laugh at me, eh? Maybe because I walked by the Palace Cinema at an inopportune moment and ended up wearing bird poo on my nice suit trousers (must have been one of those seagulls trained by the opposition!). Maybe it was because my usual tactic for dealing with stress was in full force and I was camp and hammy and wouldn't stop making silly comments. But more likely, it was because while we were on tenterhooks in a rather crowded waiting room at County Hall, I used a 'de-stressing' aromatherapy roll-on thing, and moments later a stranger behind me asked which one of us had been at the gin. Yes, in a futile attempt to calm myself down I had made myself smell like a drunk. Classic!

More Maudlin Than Maundy

I'm feeling a bit low today. I generally do on Thursdays, as the pile of tasks lined up for me take on the shape of an insurmountable obstacle -- you see, I work at my regular job Monday to Wednesday, and between that and the weekend (which of course begins early this week, Happy Easter to all) I have a lot to fit in if I'm to be effective in my Liberal Democrat roles. This week is busier than others as I mentioned in my last post, but that is not all that is grinding me down. It's reading.

This article over on Liberal Conspiracy, by the fabulous Alix Mortimer, intended to highlight alternatives to the tax measures introduced by the government which would not cause the poorest workers to lose out (as of course we know this budget has done), has attracted some predictable criticism. I think Alix deals marvellously with it all, but it still makes me seethe to see people try to justify the fact that anyone who earns under £17k will be worse off this tax year. And it bothers me that every time anyone starts to put the case of low-paid workers, they are slapped with statistics about reducing child poverty. Excuse me, I really don't want to see families suffer, far from it, but there are people out there without children who seem to have no voice at the moment. My little brother finished university last year, and while he keeps one eye on the job market for anything that relates to his degree, he works in a temporary position earning just about enough to support him and his partner, who is still studying. He is not entitled to tax credits, as he falls foul of yet another inequable little quirk of that system whereby if you are under 25, you are only eligible for working tax credits if you have children. He is a model of what this country needs in so many ways, determined to pay his way, contributing to the economy, and he now has to tighten his belt somewhat to account for the drop in his net pay. Go tell him that you are only interested in lifting children out of poverty, not people in general, and he doesn't deserve a tax cut as he earns less than £17k and see what he has to say about it! And what about those families who benefit under the current system? Even if we leave aside the horror stories of tax credits going wrong as frequently as they do and leaving people with huge bills that they couldn't have prevented and can't afford, there comes a point where Mrs X who has maintained a certain lifestyle for herself and her children by using the tax credits that supplement her small income suddenly finds that she is overextended, because her children reach the age where tax credits don't apply any more and child benefit is no longer payable, and wham - just like that the family income drops like a lead weight. It's all so short sighted. Government seems to be full of people who either haven't struggled in their lives -- or if they have, much in the same way as women routinely sign themselves up to relive the searing agony and indignity of pregnancy and childbirth because the suffering has faded in their memories while the romantic and beautiful memory of having a new member of the family has only grown, their memories have blocked out the reality of their former lives of counting up coppers for bus fare and worrying on a daily basis about money because they are so smugly content about how they have risen above it and remember their climb up the greasy pole much more vividly. Preserve me from that fate, I never ever want to turn into one of those people who have no empathy and no vision of what life is like on a low income!

So, I started out a bit miserable, got very frustrated reading the above, and then went on to discover there are actually even worse examples of the prevailing I'm-alright-Jack attitude on Liberal Conspiracy this week: take the comments on this article by Kate Belgrave, a case study proving the fact that some people - heavens above - really are dependent on state benefits and need support rather than the threat of removal of their tiny income and is rewarded by narrow-minded commentors with the message that "a drug addict's sob story is not going to gain anyones sympathy". She quite rightly attacks one of the Tories' key messages: "help people into jobs and cut benefits for those who won’t work". Time limit benefits and 'workfare' are the not the right solution for people who find themselves unemployed long-term. I know. I was unemployed for over a year due to all sorts of complex issues and frankly I thank my lucky stars that I don't have too much of a tendency to addiction or I could easily have been in a whole lot worse situation. Still now, because of the people who surround me, I could give you dozens of case studies of good people, who are in no way spongers, who can't afford to work, aren't in a position to work for mental health or addiction related reasons, and telling them their benefits would be cut if they didn't get into a job would not help them change their minds and think "oh well, I think I will get off benefits then, it's been a nice few years slacking, I think I'd rather have a job and more money and a nicer lifestyle now!" It's frankly insane to think it would, or even if it did to think that a job which would lift them out of the benefit trap would fall into their laps in all areas of the country, no matter what their skillset is. I want the people who run this country to genuinely care for and work for ALL the people they represent, not just the ones who are in a comfortable enough position to shout the loudest. Cutting benefits for people who haven't found work fast enough and have no other income - it's barbaric! Why not pick on inheritance and capital gains tax instead? Yes, the idea of losing the big comfortable family home that you haven't worked to build up and will still benefit from the proceeds of to some tune may be bad, but I don't believe it's nearly as bad as ending up homeless and desperate and probably dying an early death - the tories are telling the wrong people to go out, get a job and sort themselves out. 

It's probably apt that this post comes on Maundy Thursday. How much longer will we live in the post-Thatcherite consensus era before the neediest people in our society are back to being supported by charity and alms money?

So Ms Ashley, What Do You Feel You Can Bring to This Position?

Well, the time is almost at hand. We had a strategy meeting last night to finalise what our four candidates in Pembroke are campaigning on and how we're going to do it, and I go out tomorrow to start to collect my signatures for nomination to stand as a candidate in this year's local elections. It's not a simple matter, getting your name on that ballot paper. The candidate pack is like a paper doorstep, and full of daunting warnings and guidelines.

I keep telling myself that I don't have to get so anxious about the whole process; that I am doing the best I can and that is all that anyone expects, that if I don't win it doesn't negatively impact on my life in any way, that it really isn't a matter of life and death. It doesn't calm me. The fact is, I don't want to seem arrogant but I really am the best person for the job out of the available applicants. It's just that the interview process for this particular job is much more arduous and peculiar than for any other position: having to face a panel of over a thousand people, some of whom don't care who wins and probably won't even cast a vote either way, some of whom are related to or are otherwise close to the other candidates, and some of whom vote by habit a certain way and won't change their minds.

I don't know if it's helpful to even think of an election campaign in terms of a huge job interview. It's a handy analogy but frankly, the position of county councillor is perhaps not one that many people would like if it were written out as a job description, with the benefits and responsibilities laid bare. There is a good reason why the majority of councillors are older men. Basically, being a councillor doesn't pay very much (and nor should it - public money can be better spent) but at the same time, meetings and other demands on a councillor's time tend to keep them busy in the daytimes. This means it is very difficult to find other work to supplement the meagre income and so generally speaking the people who stand for election are those who are already self-sufficient in some way. For me, it's not about the money. It's not about any sense of kudos either. So why am I doing it? There are two reasons. Firstly I am the sort of person who wants to learn constantly. My first choice of job would be to become Professor Ashley, living in a place lined with groaning bookshelves and burying myself in academic study. There are however other ways to learn and develop as a person, and this is definitely one of them. How could I learn about the way the world works in any better way than by getting involved in the running of things? Learning as I go, making sure I am the best trained and informed I possibly can be to be the most effective representative and point of contact for the electorate I possibly can be. It's an attractive prospect. And it links nicely with my second motivation, which is to help people. I want to be the best kind of councillor - one who is accessible and helpful and does everything within her power to improve the situation for the local community. Already as a campaigner I am coming across many people who are isolated and neglected, and I want to involve them in every decision I take. It's part of being a Liberal Democrat, but it's also part of who I am - I only want to get into any position of power to give that power right back to the people it belongs to - all the people.

How Flattered I Am, Mr Hughes

But don't you think the leader of Conwy Council should have better things to do with his time than reading my internet musings?

For the three men and a dog who were reading before it happened, I probably ought to explain that my nascent blog has already been the victim of a cheap shot by the Labour Party's own Ronnie Hughes, leader of his group in Conwy council. You can read it here, along with my response. This post and that official response mark the limit to my involvement in the affair. I have turned down a bid from the Richard Evans show on BBC Radio Wales, because I don't think Mr Hughes deserves to be given airtime or credence.

Of course, I would like to offer a full apology to anyone who was genuinely offended. I'm well aware that casual figures of speech can sometimes be taken the wrong way. However, to anyone reading the full original post, it should be clear that this was a jocular way to open a blog post. In its way in fact, it is a backhanded compliment - the fact that so many people from the North-West of England choose to retire to Llandudno, along with other seaside towns in North Wales, just goes to show how attractive and pleasant the area is. I myself spent happy holidays in Llandudno and the surrounding region as a child.

As far as I am concerned though, Mr Hughes' comment is less about concern for local residents and more about blatant electioneering -- a desperate attempt to score points over my party. It is not surprising that it comes now, so close to the local elections. It is a great shame that some politicians feel the need to take part in this kind of negative campaigning. It lends credibility to the widely-held view that all politicians are no better than squabbling children, only interested in their own self-promotion. I aim to base my campaign not around my opponents' weaknesses, but around my strengths and beliefs. Last night, I was sitting next to the Labour candidate for my ward at an unrelated meeting, and we agreed that politics should be a competition, not a war, and without good competition, victory means nothing. If Mr Hughes is still making a priority of reading my blog, I would ask him to follow his colleague's shining example.

Naughty Lemming

In my defence, parts of the reason why I still have the same amount of leaflets sitting forlornly in a box in my living room that I had on Thursday are valid. I mean, it isn't easy to prioritise your life and I did need to collect something from Pembroke yesterday. I need to spend some time with my daughter before she forgets what I looked like. I need to do some housework and get some groceries. I don't technically need to sleep until practically lunchtime and then faff about on facebook for two hours though. Naughty lemming.

Thursday was a productive day. I took out our latest leaflet to more than half of the ward with the help of the unstoppable John and Ron (who actually delivered for an hour after I had gone home, bless them). I got to speak to some of the people who had returned the survey I had taken out and got my first promises of votes from people I didn't already know - hurrah! Not resting on my laurels though, whatever it may look like today! I have plenty of weekend left, and I fully intend to go out and rain paper through everyone's letterboxes tomorrow. And prepare the membership report for Tuesday's executive meeting. And call my friends and supporters to see if they want to help out this week. For today though.. pass the coffee and the vacuum cleaner, I am staying home for a change!

Llandudno.

That's where I was last weekend.Yep, it's where people from the North West of England go to die, but I'm not there yet by quite a few years. It's a surprisingly good place for a party conference too though - who knew?!

Some people don't like conferences. I love conferences. Love them. I like being in the room where a rousing speech is being made instead of watching it later on youtube. I like being taken seriously when I ask questions at fringe events - it makes me feel almost like a grown-up! I *really* like staying out, ummmm, "networking" with other Lib Dems from across the country until 3am. I like being accused of being a bad influence. I like feeling that network of support in close-up (though obviously not TOO close-up), and knowing that if I need help with anything, there are people there who go above and beyond the call of duty to provide it - here's where I publicly make a big point of saying thank you once again to Peter Black for driving me up and down the country just so I could attend and asking for nothing in return.

There is one tiny problem. Welsh Liberal Democrat conferences are the best place to practise my public speaking, in that it is best if I'm going to change my podium style from deeply uncomfortable, skittish bag of nerves into confident, inspiring young community leader with all the pitfalls that lie along the way exposed for all to see, it had best be among friends. But that is like saying that if you're going to have excruciating pain inflicted on you, it's best to have it done at a nice clean, fragrant dentistry practice. I find it just that appealing. And it's not even comfortable admitting it in writing - I mean, Fear Of Public Speaking - it's just such a cliché! Might as well be scared of heights and have done with it - oh yes, I am that, too. Just call me a walking cliché then I guess. Or a waffling cliché maybe. Anyway.

Last time I did any public speaking, it was with five minutes' notice because I hadn't read the agenda properly, hadn't realised that my dear colleague from North Pembs, Liz Campion, wanted speakers in support of her first conference motion calling for a review of health service provision in Wales, and felt duty bound to oblige despite having nothing prepared and despite it knocking me sick to even think about attempting it. This time, I once again spoke about local health service provision (condemning the merger of Pembrokeshire and Derwen health trust with two others), once again had only the five minutes between handing in my speakers' card and getting on stage to think about what the heck I was going to say, but there was one difference - I had spent the morning receiving specialist coaching on my public speaking skills from someone with a lot of authority on the matter (at the risk of being accused of constant namedropping, I do mean Lembit Opik). And even if I did moan afterwards until all my friends got sick of hearing it and wandered off, I have to admit the whole experience was a lot more palatable. Hurrah! Progress! The lack of preparation is still a concern - much as I know off the top of my head plenty of key facts about Pembrokeshire and exactly what my point of view is, it would be difficult for anyone to take those thoughts and condense them into a tidy three minute speech just 'on the hoof'. But I can work on that very easily, and as I looked around from that podium on Saturday, I saw people paying great attention to me, being engaged and dare I say it convinced by my words. I can see that becoming an addictive feeling if only I can get rid of the violent shaking that follows it.

Now it's time for me to tell you in the most sickeningly sweet and bordering on evangelistic terms what decisions were taken and what my favourite bits were from the conference.

The more time I spend with my party, the more proud I am to be a part of it. The buoyant mood of the conference was infectious and everything I heard about how well our councillors have been running Cardiff, Swansea, Wrexham and Bridgend made me itch to get into a position where I can make more of a difference in Pembrokeshire, even if I am some years of building capacity and support away from taking control (I know - steady, girl). I found the speeches by Nick Clegg, Roger Williams MP and Mike German, our assembly group leader, energising and enthralling. Of course the focus of the conference was on the rapidly-approaching local elections, but there was one more generalised policy motion that stood out over the weekend. I want to share the details: back in May 2007 I seethed with an indignant fury when I received this glib cut-and-paste response to the official petition to Downing Street to lift the ban on gay men donating blood. So you can probably imagine (and I hope you'll share) my delight when conference delegates voted unanimously to campaign on just this issue. There's an article here on UK Gay News with a fuller description of the motion for those who are interested.