Equality Through Conformity? PART ONE

At the weekend, after much preparation and planning, phone calls and scribbled out ideas, the two of us jumped on the train to Manchester Piccadilly and set of for what we thought would simply be a day of protest - nothing more, nothing less. We expected to be shouting about the cause we set off to shout about - nothing more nothing less. Maybe a few chaps with placards, maybe a bit of light public disturbance - nothing more nothing less.

How wrong we were.

The helium balloons on which our chosen message was printed were handed out at such speed to crowds of men, women and children who clamored and begged for them like we'd never have expected. Not for the message on the balloon, admittedly. Turns out people like balloons, who knew? But the important thing was that our balloons and therefore our message was all over Piccadilly Square and was dispersing around the city as people took them away with them. So that was the first half hour of our 'protest' done. And we had nothing left apart from little slips of paper with the message on, which were given out all day.

The real stuff started to happen when the various groups who had come to the square to share their message all got together and started to move as one. If anyone has ever experienced a come-up, it felt like that...

The feeling that something very, very good is about to happen.

And it did.

I needn't go too deep into the details of the day and what exactly happened; there's Youtube for that (just look for We Are Change Manchester 2/7/11).

But I can barely convey the immense feelings of love and joy and the colourful, vibrant expressions of freedom as the peaceful vibrations echoed around the city. It wasn't just the hugs or the sharing or the equality and value of each individual which struck me. Something went much deeper, something in my core which whispered reassuringly that this was right and this was good. As the Topshop barriers came rolling down to protect the store from a large congregation of people who would never dream of hurting or stealing from anyone, it was palpable that this had evolved from a protest (nothing more, nothing less) to an incredible demonstration of the fact that we are humans and we are free - nothing more, nothing less. It was an announcement of our presence - a movement of thinking, feeling, loving entities sharing their humanity with each other. It was beautiful. Disillusioned ex-soldiers rubbed shoulders with passionate questioners and religious speakers in the greatest display of mutual respect that I have ever seen. If you had something to say, you grabbed a megaphone and you said it.

Certain aspects of the day raised questions in my mind about our actions and our beliefs. These are questions regarding reality and truth or rather - imagination and dogma. I hope to tackle this in the second installment of my post. I will, in the style of a Mr. Danny Shine, present these questions to you and allow you to look deep into yourself to find the answers. Because it's healthy to question. Questions make life worth living, nothing more, nothing less.

Reflective Jacket State

I'll tell you what I'm thinking about today...


Reflective jackets. What the hell is with reflective jackets? When people see them they're like rabbits caught in headlights. What is so scary about a reflective jacket? Moreover, what is scary about a person wearing a reflective jacket?

The reflective jacket has become something of a symbol for authority, something to be seen, something to be followed, something to be obeyed. How many times have I been told to look out for the people in reflective jackets in case of an emergency? And how many times have I been told to put my dog on a lead, or to not smoke here please, or to move along because I'm loitering? And 99% of the time, I bet we all obey these people just because they're... easier to spot...

I've experienced it first hand too. At a festival last year I was stewarding and was awarded the great privilege of the reflective jacket. I was wandering around the festival, beer in hand, perfectly relaxed when I walked past a group of lads in their late teens, early twenties. It just so happens that earlier that evening I'd been sitting with them having a laugh but now, with the authoritarian addition of the reflective jacket they flinched in fear of my presence - no shit! One of them looked up at me, wide eyed in (what an innocent mind would believe to be) fear and he almost threw whatever he was dealing with on the back of a CD case up into air. God! Suddenly now I'm in a reflective jacket I'm the police!

And that brings me on to the character I encountered tonight... a female Community Support Officer, clad, naturally in her brand spanking new shiny reflective jacket glistening in the sun. Boy oh boy... didn't that put fear into my heart! How I shook as she shined at me... how I trembled with fear as I... saw her more easily. And it made me think, what do these busybody CSOs actually do? What power do they have? What can they do to me? Well they've got a reflective jacket on, so it must be something quite frightening. And then I realised what I was faced with, the great big scary reflective jacketed authority - someone with the power to phone the police.