Running Rocks! Moving from Couch to 5k

Well, I’ve decided to break my streak of talking about what frustrates me and write a blog post in praise of something I’ve just started doing recently – running.

 

 

If you’d told me a year ago I’d now be addicted to running, I wouldn’t have believed you. Joggers to me always seemed slightly strange. There never seemed to be much merit in running around in circles, I couldn’t understand what possessed people to do it – it just looked difficult with none of the fun parts of exercise. Plus I wondered how they could all do it without feeling self-conscious, because it seemed like a really confident thing to do, particularly for a woman.

 

I’ve only been jogging regularly for two weeks, but I’ve realised now that no one is going to stare at you when you’re running (unless you’re running for a bus, in which case everyone will stare). Also – the endorphins. My goodness. Once you start running, you realise why people get addicted to it.

 

I’ve been following the NHS Couch to 5k programme which is designed to get you from non-runner to running 5k in nine weeks. I’m on week three at the moment. For anyone who doesn’t know what the programme is, it’s essentially a series of half-hour long podcasts you can download to your Mp3 player and listen to while running. There’s some music and a woman called Laura tells you when to walk and when to run. The runs get longer and more intense as the week goes on. I’m only running for three minutes this week, but by week nine I’m supposed to be running for half an hour.

 

Anyway, it’s gone pretty well so far. I bought some decent trainers last year which haven’t seen much action, so they’re supporting me OK. I dug out my old gym clothes, too. I don’t have the money for any proper running gear right now, but I think I’d look ridiculous trying to squeeze into those ridiculously tight leggings so I’ll make do for now.

 

I use the train track path in Southville for my runs, heading towards the Bristol to Bitton footpath (which I’d not actually discovered before starting these programmes). Because I don’t have much time on my hands, I tend to stop at the mid-way point and come back just so I’m not miles away from home when the session is over.

 

Here are a couple of blog posts I wrote for the NHS community website. For anyone who wants to follow my progress, you can see more posts as I upload them at  http://couchto5k.healthunlocked.com/blogs/author/sercreative

 

Week Two Run Two

Well, this is my first blog post about running – not sure how many I’ll write, I’m procrastinating from work already! Before starting Couch to 5k, I hadn’t done any proper exercise in quite a while. I used to go to the gym, but I got bored with running on treadmills and the journey there and back was quite time consuming. I was considering joining an exercise class, but I don’t have too much money, so couch to 5k seemed like a good solution.

I’ve never run before because I never thought it would be for me – I was worried about injuring myself, too, as I’d heard it’s not good for your knees. However, in the end I thought “Well, lots of people do it with not much difficulty” so I thought I’d give it a go.

Last week (week one) I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice feeling that sense of achievement and getting the time out of the house (I work from home). I liked the podcast too. This week has been a bit tougher – I did run number 2 of week 2 today and now I’m absolutely exhausted! I don’t like the music as much this week too, which sounds a bit daft but I listen to a lot of music when I’m walking around so it was really noticeable! Nonetheless, I’m going to plough through to the end.

I’m also a bit concerned about what will happen after I finish the course – I’d like to keep going but I don’t know if I want to work towards 10k. Half an hour per run is more than enough for me! Hopefully I’ll find a solution and keep exercising as I think it’s having a great effect on my mood and sleeping pattern already.

 

Week Two Run Three

I’m going to write this while my boyfriend’s in the shower – I’ve just got back from a run and I desperately need one! I must smell awful!

Well, the last run of week two was quite tough but I still managed it. Around the halfway point it starts getting a bit easier and I feel like I can manage the 90 seconds with ease. I’m a bit apprehensive about week three but looking forward to it at the same time.

I think the reason that this run was tough was because I had some alcohol last night – I always feel it when I run the next day!

At the moment, I am absolutely amazed that it hasn’t rained for any of my runs. I’ve been very lucky. The path that I run along is kind of set back from the road – it’s a popular path with runners and cyclists so you have to be careful about people zooming up behind you. There are lots of dog walkers around too, which is nice because I love dogs. Also, runners are very friendly folk – lots of smiles and supportive nods. I think maybe it’s because I’m scarlet in the face with sweat pouring off me! Quite an obvious beginner.

It’s helpful to write these posts because I love talking about it so much. My boyfriend doesn’t mind me raving about it – when I walked in just now he said I looked healthy and glowing which is sweet. I do feel a lot better and I’m sleeping a lot better too – I used to have an awful sleeping pattern. It’s amazing how much I’m looking forward to each run. I can practically spring out of bed and straight out the door.

Well, until next time…

 

Week Three Run One

Just did run one of week three – thought I’d have a shower and stuff my running clothes into the wash before sitting down to write this!

I was a bit apprehensive about today but I made it. When I did the first 3 minute run, it was a real struggle to make it to the end. By the time the second one came around, my legs felt like they’d seized up! I thought I’d try it anyway and luckily I made it through to the end without too much trouble.

I did the same route again but didn’t go as far as usual. There were a few other runners out so I got a few smiles on the way – that really helps, especially when you feel like you want to go home!

On the second three minute run I was waiting for Laura to say something at the halfway point – when she eventually chimed in at two minutes I was quite relieved to say the least. I’m never sure how long it’s been when I’m concentrating on my breathing.

I’ve had a few problems with stitches on the right side of my body while running. They’re uncomfortable, but I try and breathe deeply and usually they stop. It helps to feel like I’m breathing straight into the tense group of muscles below my ribs – that’s a yoga trick, and it’s really come in handy.

I have to say, since starting the programme I’ve been a lot calmer on running days – it tends to make me feel quite mellow for the whole day, which is a nice feeling.

Yesterday, there was a 10k race through the centre of town and I was quite envious of all the runners going past. Perhaps I’ll be able to enter next year…

Being Young Stinks: Employer Discrimination

Continuing the stream of disillusionment and grumpiness which makes up my blog, here is a rant about youth unemployment. It’s interspersed with Simpsons pics for the hell of it, from the good people at www.simpsoncrazy.com. Enjoy!

I got rejected for a job the other day and I was actually glad. Not because I didn’t want the job (I’m doing all right as a freelancer, but it still would have been great to get some extra cash), but because there was actually a legitimate reason for my rejection. There were certain things in the job description that the right candidate would need to be comfortable with doing, and I didn’t know how to do them. They were quite specific things, requiring in-depth knowledge about how to manage a web server, and I can’t say with confidence that given the chance I would have picked up the skills in no time. I interviewed fine and they seemed to like me, but they really needed someone with a different set of skills. Rejection old school style!

The reason I’m feeling all right about this is because, as a young person with a couple of years of work experience and a degree, I find myself getting to interview stage often but just missing the cut for the jobs. The reason I’m given, time after time, is that I interviewed very well, however there was another candidate with more experience, or perhaps several years of doing exactly the same job. This is the sort of rejection I’m used to, the sort of rejection which sounds very reasonable, but in practice is anything but. Here are some reasons why.

 

1. It indirectly inconveniences jobseekers who are below a certain age

Being told you don’t have enough experience to do a particular job would be fine if we weren’t once again in a recession, and the people in charge of running this country seem determined to run it straight into the ground. There are less jobs and more people going for them, which means that, every time I apply for a job, I am guaranteed to be up against people with decades of experience on me. I’m 24, therefore I can’t compete. Even with a work history dating back to around the time of my 16th birthday, I cannot reasonably be expected to hold my own against someone who had a head start in the job market by not being born in the 1980s. And yet this is exactly what I am expected to do, again and again and again. The fact that most employers pick prior experience over talent, intelligence, intuition or natural aptitude is indirect discrimination against young people. There simply isn’t anything we can do about the fact that we haven’t been alive as long as the people older than us.

2. Experience does not necessarily qualify someone to do a particular job

OK, I can see how people advertising a certain job will warm to someone who has had exactly that job title for a five year stretch prior to applying. But experience shouldn’t always swing the decision – it’s not a surefire way to get the person who’ll be best at the job. Case in point: the most experience I have in the job market is as a retail sales assistant (from the age of 16 to 22). I am not a good sales assistant. I’m not a bad sales assisant either, but having all those years of “experience” did not transform me into a model employee. If I were to go for a retail position now, then I’d be far more likely to get the job than someone who only has a few months of experience. Does that make me the best person for the job? Hell no!

For a lot of the jobs I go for (mainly admin positions, entry level and just above), it really doesn’t take long to train someone in how to do them. There are a lot of companies looking for someone who can “hit the ground running”, but as far as I’m concerned, unless you’ve worked for a particular company before, no one can do that. It isn’t fair to discount someone purely on the basis that someone else has worked in a similar position for longer. Who knows – the filing system at their previous job might have been completely different causing them to have a catastrophic mental breakdown before their first day is even over…

3. It’s selfish

I’m serious, it is. Graduates and young people have been told over and over again to adapt to the changes in the economic climate (changes we had nothing to do with…). Get more experience, do a course, volunteer, update your CV, apply for more jobs, no, more than that, MORE THAN THAT, chase them up, sit on hold for half an hour a day, go to interview workshops, abandon your chosen career path altogether, don’t be selfish/lazy/entitled, there’s a recession on YA KNOW!

I’m sick of being told that as a young person I must adapt and change and sometimes completely give up on my plans because of the current situation, while businesses can get away with stubbornly dismissing me as a capable worker because of my age. And while I have a lot of sympathy for business owners who are scrabbling around trying to make ends meet, I can’t reconcile the fact that at least they had a chance to make something of themselves. What chance have young people got now when company owners are basically ignoring them from the word go? We don’t get hired for the jobs, so we can’t get experience. Because we don’t have any experience, we get left out of even more opportunities. We’re affected the worst by ‘last in, first out’ firing policies and the jobs which are predominently occupied by us (entry level positions) are terminated. The fact that so many businesses have adopted these practices as hasty survival tactics has effectively eliminated a generation from the job market. This needs to be stopped.

Many people might be thinking that maybe I just interview badly, or the other candidates are just better than me generally. In the last year, although I haven’t had many interviews for all the jobs I’ve applied for, the feedback remains consistent: it’s experience holding me back. When I ask the employer to elaborate, they never say anything else. I interview fine, I’m told. I would have no trouble performing the job. However, considering the huge number of applicants, it was decided that the job should go to someone with more experience. This is what swings the vote every time, without fail.

I really wish that businesses would adopt a positive approach to young people who apply for their jobs and take into account the fact that discrimination can be indirect as well as direct. It’s not our fault we’re young, we shouldn’t automatically be dubbed as feckless because of our ages, and we deserve more opportunities than working for free in Tesco (if you can call that an opportunity…). Business owners: the next time you reject a young person on the grounds of experience, remember that they will have heard the same thing over and over again. If you can’t give them a legitimate reason, just make something up – tell them they wore an awful tie to the interview, or that you can’t have another staff member called Stephanie. It’ll at least be more interesting.

Mental Illness Stinks: Employer Discrimination

Recently, I’ve been reading about employer discrimination against people with mental health difficulties and it’s brought up a few uncomfortable memories for me. I’ve experienced this several times in my working life and it’s possibly the reason I’m so hesitant about applying for full-time jobs. Even when I see a job that I think I could be really good at, I can’t help thinking that I won’t cope or I’ll have an off-day and my employer won’t be sympathetic.

The first time I had problems at work was while I was working as a retail assistant when I was a student. When I look back, I can’t help but feel sad at how bad the situation was. There were days when I couldn’t speak, or think clearly. I’d cry before arriving at work, and sometimes during my shift. I remember a time when I was pushing a vacuum around in the deserted downstairs area of the shop with tears streaming down my face. In the worst days, it got so bad that I’d lock myself in the toilet and press my keys into my arms for relief. I often felt so bad that I wanted to leave, but felt I couldn’t afford to because I needed the money, until one day when, terrified about hurting myself, I walked out in the middle of my shift and took a bus to the hospital. When I got there, the mental health services were closed. I went to A&E and asked them if I could sit in reception just to be somewhere where someone could keep an eye on me. I thought if I went to take the train home, I’d jump straight in front of it. I stayed at the hospital for about four hours all in all.

During this time, the other girls working in the shop with me didn’t know how to treat me. One girl told me I needed to pull myself together and, when I mentioned how hard I was finding it to cope, she said “Well, you can’t just have no job, can you?” Finally, my manager took me aside and told me that I needed to snap out of it, that my attitude was bad for customers and that all the other girls had agreed that I was creating an atmosphere. She said, “Everyone’s got problems” and told me that if I couldn’t find a way to deal with them, I should find another job. Luckily, I did.

The second time it happened, I was working in another retail job which required me to move a lot of heavy furniture on a daily basis and work on my own quite a lot. On the days when I worked alone, I wasn’t allowed to take breaks. I was usually required to do several things at once, and I had a lot of pressure on me to make sales. I managed OK at first, but after a while things started to get to me. This time, I plucked up the courage to tell my manager. She said, “I thought so” and immediately asked me if I was on any medication which threw me a bit as I wasn’t sure it was any of her business. Then she started talking about a friend of hers who had the same problem, and made it sound as though she was a bit of a drag. She promised we’d discuss ways to help me. I was relieved, but I quickly realised she had no intention of doing this. She had a target on her back from head office, and didn’t want to have to deal with me. Her manner towards me cooled, and my mood dropped as a result. My sales record remained good, but she kept picking holes in my work, telling me I “wasn’t the same as when I’d started”. Finally, she told me we needed to talk, and I was relieved, thinking that finally she was going to discuss ways to help me. Instead, she told me I was losing my job.

It came as a shock. I knew I wasn’t happy in the job, but I couldn’t help but think things would have been vastly different if I’d received some help. Because I was on my probationary period, the company was able to get shot of me without any legal hassle. What was really insulting was that my manager tried to dress it up as if it was the best thing all round. “You’ll be happier somewhere else,” she insisted, and when I tried to explain my fears about the job market at the time, she told me I was being negative. When I explained how hard it was for me to survive on benefits before, she said, “Can’t you just move back in with your parents?” (I was 23). What’s more, she told pretty much everyone in the company that I was leaving because I was no good, and everyone took her side. I received a phone call on my last day from the manager of another store who told me I’d be much happier working in a different place “with other young people”. In the end, I was on the dole for eight months.

I mean, nobody wants a co-worker who locks themselves in the toilet, no one wants to work with someone who bursts into tears all the time. No one wants to hear about how crappy someone else is feeling, and no one wants to have to manage someone who presents a drain on company time. I get it. We all get it. The point is, that it wasn’t something I could help. I didn’t go skipping off to work every morning, thinking, “Gee, I wonder how I can embarrass myself in front of my co-workers and customers today”. I didn’t turn up to work to irritate anyone. I did it because I needed the job, I was good at the job, and because being ill did not define who I was.

I write this post because I’m not sure how many people realise how much of a problem mental health stigma and discrimination is. It’s still around and it’s still happening. There are people scared to upload a photo of themselves smiling onto Facebook, in case their employer sees it and assumes they’re lying about their mental health problems. There are people desperately trying to cling on to their jobs with no support whatsoever because they feel they don’t have a choice. There are people who have to put up with their co-workers talking behind their backs every single day. Even without these things, the problem is still pervasive – I was recently released from job which could very well have been extended because I didn’t have the right ‘attitude’. Once again, I had tried to ask my boss for help and it hadn’t happened. Companies often use the excuse of not having the right resources to accommodate people like me – too small, not enough staff, too much to do, deadlines, budgets etc, all capped off with the “You’ll feel much better somewhere else” brush-off. The fact is, this is unacceptable. You’re not allowed to refuse applications from people with mobility problems on the grounds that your building is inaccessible to them – it should not be different for people with mental health problems. If you can do the job, you deserve to work in circumstances which are conducive to your health.

“Not me, guv”: Workfare Providers Defend Their Actions

 

Hurrah for Twitter debates and all their time-consuming wonder! I’ve had an informative old time discussing workfare again and I’ve decided to respond to some of the reasoning provided by actual live workfare company owners, defending their right to employ people for free. Most of these lines came from one person, who ended up solely providing me with an entire blog post (cheers!). Enjoy!

 

I have workfare staff and they don’t feel exploited

I don’t want to make any extreme comparisons here, but plenty of people stay in undesirable circumstances because they feel they have no choice. This is not a good thing. Given the choice between an unpaid placement and a paid placement, I think only a masochist would opt for the former. What we’re seeing at the moment is not only an increase in people who believe they have to take unpaid placements in their chosen career path because there’s no chance of them being offered work otherwise, but also an increase in people who believe they have to take unpaid placements anywhere because there’s no chance of them getting any form of paid work. Both scenarios are unacceptable.

By participating in workfare, you may not be directly exploiting anyone but you are definitely indirectly contributing to exploitation across the country. Companies which have access to workfare participants have no incentive to offer paid work, and often don’t. This is exploitation and it’s how workfare operates.

Also, just because someone doesn’t currently feel they’re being exploited doesn’t mean they won’t after several months of unpaid work, or after they realise that one unpaid placement may just lead to another as workfare doesn’t create employment.

 

I’ve taken on all of my workfare staff and they are now being paid a living wage

I’m always really confused by workfare providers who smugly inform me that they have created jobs for unemployed people by taking on their workfare staff as employees. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve taken someone on as soon as they’ve begun working for you and not paying them at that point is unacceptable. If someone is being paid after two/three/six months of working for free, they are simply getting what’s due. This is not cause for celebration.

Workfare providers often wheel out excuses along the lines of training periods and trial runs, but I’m still not convinced. If you don’t think someone’s worth paying for a job you need doing, then chances are you shouldn’t hire them in the first place. If you do think someone’s worth paying, it’s unacceptable to demand months of free labour from them first.

 

Through workfare, I am giving unemployed people a chance/opportunity to learn

“Giving people a chance” seems to be the name of the game at the moment – which begs the question, what chance has someone got on no wage? Unpaid work is not a “chance” or an “opportunity”. A job is.

Paid jobs (as in actual proper jobs, like wot we all used to aspire to) have things called trial, or probationary periods, where the staff member is paid a proper wage and treated the same as other staff members. During this time, they may be subject to frequent reviews and their contract will not yet have been made permanent. Why now have the goalposts shifted to the point where an employer feels perfectly justified not paying a staff member who is effectively on their probationary period on the grounds that they are “giving them a chance”?

Not only is it insulting to suggest that unemployed people ought to be grateful for the “chance” to complete unpaid work, it simply isn’t true. An “opportunity” is free training, separate to work. An “opportunity” is money available for people to buy smart clothes to attend interviews. An “opportunity” is a CV building workshop, or free career advice, or a social group to keep your spirits up while applying for hundreds of jobs. An “opportunity” is an interview. An “opportunity” is a job. An unpaid job is an unpaid job.

 

I run a small business and cannot afford to pay staff

Then don’t hire them. It’s not that I don’t have sympathy for small businesses – times are tough for everyone – and I’d much rather go after the big companies like Asda and Tesco who make billions of pounds in profit and still feel justified not paying their checkout staff. However, just because you’re a small company does not mean you are justified in gaining from unpaid labour. Wanting to expand your business is a reasonable goal, and it must be very frustrating for anyone who has had to put this off, year on year, because of falling profits and rising costs. However, no matter how frustrating it is for a business owner, it’s nothing compared to being unemployed and trapped in the cycle of unpaid work placements at the threat of benefit sanctions. Until workfare is made fair (and I have a feeling it’ll be a long time yet) nobody is justified in benefitting from it.

 

I’ve actually lost money from taking on workfare staff so I can’t be benefitting from it

It’s regrettable that anyone who genuinely wants to make a difference usually ends up bearing the brunt of the cost, and it’s true that many workfare providers may honestly want to help the unemployed. However, workfare as it is isn’t the way to do this. Even if you’re putting hours of time and oodles of cash into your placements, it doesn’t make the schemes any less deplorable. People should not be made to work for free, for any length of time. Even if you’ve made your schemes as easy and relaxed as can be, it’s still unpaid labour. And, if anyone who has initially participated voluntarily decides that your company isn’t for them, they can still be easily referred to Mandatory Work Activity which will see them shunted into another company with the threat of losing their benefits. By participating in workfare, you are perpetuating this cycle which has left many unemployed people miserable, destitute and desperate.

 

But I take the team out go karting and paint-balling, I CAN’T BE EVIL

Er, good for you. But not even free laser quest would convince me that I didn’t have a right to be paid for my work, for any length of time.

And that’s laser quest. Think about it.

How Privilege Can Kill Empathy

If you’re able to live in this country (without threat of deportation), then you’ve already avoided the worst of the world’s life experiences just by being here at all. You’re unlikely to starve to death, for example, and (although recent events have made me very nervous), if you get ill, you’ll have free access to a doctor. You won’t have to drink diseased water, you’re unlikely to be the victim of a terrorist attack, bombs will not fall on your home (if you have one), and you probably won’t be forced to live twelve to a room in a broken-down shanty town due to lack of housing. (I said probably. I have no idea what Cameron will do next.)

Move a little up that scale and, if you’re lucky enough to have a job at a basic wage, you’ll never have to queue up at the job centre. You’ll never have to break down in front of a council officer because you haven’t received your housing benefit and your landlord is threatening to throw you out on the street. You’ll never have to worry about how you’ll feed your kids, or have to visit a food bank for basic provisions. You’ll never have to consider moving in with your sister because you can’t afford to keep your home. You’ll never have to freeze through the winter because you can’t afford to put the heating on, even for one day. You won’t have to fill in hundreds upon hundreds of job applications just to be in with the chance of a part-time three-month job at a supermarket.

Further on from that, and, if you have a job at more of a reasonable wage, you’ll never have to rifle through the bargain bins at Tesco for whatever’s on offer that week. You probably won’t consider Wetherspoon’s as a luxurious eaterie for a once-a-month treat, and you won’t buy most of your clothes from charity shops. You won’t have to borrow money from your relatives and friends, and feel awful that you can’t pay them back. You won’t lose contact with friends who live further than thirty miles away because you can’t afford a car and rail fares are skyrocketing. You won’t have to live in cramped accommodation with five other people, or, if you’re between 18 and 30, move back in with your parents because you haven’t got a hope of affording rent.

Move up a pay bracket, and the thought of taking a holiday won’t be confined to daydreams. You won’t have to worry about how you’ll fill up your car, or feel sick every time your rent leaves your bank account. You won’t think anything of having a couple of meals out every week, and you’ll be able to treat your friends to drinks whenever you want. You won’t have to take the bus anywhere, you won’t feel worried about how you’re going to save for your future, and you won’t fear for when your parents grow old and need extra care. You probably won’t have had to convince yourself that the prospect of ever owning a property of your own is completely out of reach, and you won’t be feeling disillusioned by your job as a result.

Go on from there and you might reach the stage where you’ll never have to drive yourself anywhere, you’ll never have to go to a restaurant where the prices are listed next to the food, you’ll never have to worry about losing your home (as you have several), and there’s no chance you’ll ever go hungry. And (most importantly) you’ll only visit places where there are other people like you: exclusive spas, gyms, high-end retailers, bars, restaurants, hotels, so you’ll never come across anyone who earns less than you do (unless they’re holding the door open for you). You’ll be so far away from the bottom rung that there might as well be a screen between you and anyone who doesn’t import all their furniture from France. It’s not that you’re not capable of understanding disparity, it has simply ceased to exist for you.

This is how we get locked out of each other’s experiences: move up enough and you forget the bottom rung, either because it was an awful place for you or because you were never there to begin with. There is, of course, a third option in that you might remember what it was like, and have empathy for those struggling now, but it’s less common to come across that viewpoint, especially in harsh times like these. Why? Maybe it’s harder to be the lone voice with so many railing against “scroungers” and “lazy scumbags”. Maybe it’s too painful to even face how things have been sliding and sliding to the point where it seems that those at the bottom have no hope at all. Maybe it’s comforting to believe that you’re special for achieving what you’ve achieved, rather than influenced by luck and circumstance, and that those poor people below you are there by their own fault. I have no idea. With this “me and my own” attitude I’m seeing more and more often in the UK, I’m not sure when I’ll get to find out.

5 Ways I’m Coping with the Crushing Despair of being Alive in Space Year 2012

Given the death of the NHS, the granny tax, workfare, no jobs, privatisation of the frigging police, rising alcohol prices and so on and so on… I am actually too depressed to write my blog. Which I know is depressing in itself. Still, there’s a lot of people doing a great job so I don’t feel especially bad about slacking off for a bit. Here’s a list of things which are cheering me up at the moment.

1. Absolute Radio 90s

That’s right. I can actually no longer bear this decade, so I’ve escaped back in time via Britpop and jangly dance music. I don’t care what anyone else says, I like Ocean Colour Scene. Only problem is the news is still from 2012, so I have to turn the volume down. Next step: purchasing a pair of enormous combat trousers and putting blonde highlights in my hair.

2. Almond chocolate from Aldi

Seriously, this stuff is amazing and cheap and yummy.

3. Sitting on my roof

This is my roof. It’s amazing. I go on it a lot when it’s sunny and it is sunny a lot more now, which makes me happy

4. Short stories by these people

Because, for some reason, when they say stuff about how depressing modern life is, I don’t actually mind.

5. The Steady Table writing group

Tuesday evenings, The Folk House 6pm – 9pm. The only space in Bristol where you can just sit and write.

That’s it for now. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the angry dome.

 

How The Job Centre Tried To Stop Me From Volunteering

I had my first job working for Birthdays. I know. Working for money? Madness!

I’ve been weighing in on the workfare debate on Twitter recently. There’s so much confusion surrounding the subject that I’m amazed anybody can get any sort of clarity at all, but I know one thing for sure: The work experience schemes the government have put in place are deeply, deeply flawed and they’re going to harm everybody in the long run. Because I’ve volunteered for several years now, I thought I’d share my story of squaring my work experience with the job centre because, contrary to popular belief, the government haven’t always been so “concerned” about young people gaining experience (not that I believe they are now…)

I signed on to JSA in October 2010, when I was 22, shortly after being made redundant from a four-day-a-week job in a furniture shop. On my second appointment, I told my job adviser that I was undertaking part-time voluntary work with a mental health charity. I had begun volunteering at the charity around six months previously, for one day a week, alongside my paid retail job. After I was made redundant, I began volunteering more frequently, being careful to keep it under 16 hours a week, as I’d heard you weren’t allowed to volunteer any more than that while claiming JSA (this has now changed). I had begun volunteering initially as I had a personal connection with the charity, and I also knew how important it would be for me to gain administrative work experience, as I hadn’t had any before. The Monday after I was made redundant from my paid job, I rang the office of the charity immediately and requested more hours, because it felt strange not to be going to work and I couldn’t stand not having anything to do. (Sorry to disappoint, Clegg, I wasn’t “glued to the TV” while I was unemployed…)

The adviser I saw didn’t seem particularly interested in why I was volunteering, and stated that I should be careful about how much I volunteered because I may receive a sanction on my benefits if it was too much (ironic in light of recent events!). He then gave me a form to fill out which stated my hours at the charity and also any expenses I was being paid. I felt quite disappointed by his reaction – far from being encouraging or even interested, he’d made me feel like I’d done something wrong. Nevertheless, I continued volunteering and waited for my first JSA payment to be made. Which didn’t happen. When I went back two weeks later, I told the adviser (a different person) and she didn’t seem surprised. “You need to keep chasing them,” she said, and then changed the subject. When two more weeks went past, I was starting to get really worried. Because I’d also applied for housing and council tax benefit through the job centre, I was in danger of falling behind on my rent if I didn’t get the payments through soon. Between making job applications, volunteering, and using up all my credit trying to get through to the Job Centre phonelines, I was going out of my mind.

                Finally, around two months after I filled out the form about my volunteering, I got a letter from the Job Centre, stating that I hadn’t supplied them with copies of payslips from my part-time job, therefore my benefit was set to be cancelled. I rang the helpline but couldn’t get through, so I had to wait until my next appointment to take it up with an adviser (different person again!). When I explained that I didn’t have a part-time job, I was volunteering, he told me that the adviser from my second appointment had made me fill out the wrong form, so the Job Centre thought my part-time volunteering was a paid job. So not only had my volunteering caused a disparaging reaction, it had ended up causing my benefits to be withheld for two months. I couldn’t believe it – it felt like I was being punished for wanting to volunteer.

                Of course, I did get my benefits through when the mistake was corrected but this took another few weeks. After that, I never discussed my volunteering again, other than to fill out the forms they gave me every so often (which I made double-sure to check were the right ones!) regarding expenses and hours. What I found so disappointing was that no adviser wanted to talk about my volunteering at all, in fact they all seemed either confused, suspicious, or distrustful when they checked my agreement. What I thought was a proud achievement, a willingness to develop new skills while being out of work and a mark of my dedication to getting a meaningful career was totally ignored. Rather than being something positive, my volunteering was regarded by the job centre as an irritation which required them to fill out paperwork (not to mention sharply remind me every so often that I wasn’t allowed to volunteer more than a certain number of hours because it could affect my benefit). It was a blight rather than a proactive step on my part in finding work. I was totally confused. I was following my JSA agreement to the latter, not volunteering any more than I was supposed to and even forgoing my expenses because the charity didn’t have much money. Why was this such a problem?

                Of course, I’m even more confused now that the government is suddenly entirely in favour of people gaining experience as long as it benefits big business. I really cannot see why else they have these work programmes in place, other than for the profit of corporations and to slowly dissolve minimum wage laws. Cait Reilly is a perfect example – she was ALREADY volunteering when she was made to work in Poundland for free, a fact that most journalists and politicians are completely ignoring. She also ALREADY had several years of retail experience. What possible benefit could it have been to her to have undertaken the placement? If I was still claiming JSA and volunteering at the mental health charity, would this have happened to me?

Let me be clear: I do support people who want to gain work experience, and I respect that not all organisations can offer paid work. I’ve actually continued my volunteering to this day, alongside my paid work, in order to develop new skills.  It’s not been easy, as the paid work isn’t really getting me a living wage at the moment, but I still respect the ethos of volunteering and what it can do for people’s lives. What I DO NOT respect is “work experience” which is forced on people with no thought given to:

• Adequate training
• Basic day-to-day support
• Whether it will benefit the claimant’s chosen career
• An adequate time limit on a placement
• An understanding that the work experience placement is NOT a replacement for a paid position, and should not be treated as such
• A good relationship between the worker and the company (one of the fundamental things about volunteering is that the relationship between volunteer and company must be mutually beneficial, not a one way street)
• Opportunities for qualifications/courses

And finally, and most importantly,

• Opportunities for PAID EMPLOYMENT OR (if the company is genuinely unable to fund a paid position), the understanding that the worker will need to be given the opportunity to find a paid placement elsewhere.

Given the amount of hassle I got from the Job Centre while I was volunteering, not to mention the fact that, up until a few years ago, it was breaking the rules to volunteer for more than 16 hours a week, it BEGGARS BELIEF that people are now expected to work for free for up to 30 HOURS A WEEK. How on earth are people meant to find the time to pursue training and experience (not to mention the jobs when they come up) in their chosen career when they’re being forced to stack shelves for that amount of time per week? Retail jobs are hard work, and they don’t leave you with much energy to spare.

                If the government truly want to “give young people a chance”, they need to rethink this, fast. What they’re doing at the moment is wrong, and it amounts to slave labour. They say that people will benefit from undertaking the work experience programmes. I say they’re encouraging people to feel unworthy of payment to the benefit of big business. How damaging is it for someone’s self esteem to find that, according to their government, they’re not even worth paying for an entry-level position in retail? When I was 16, I walked into my first job in a shop, they trained me on my first day, and I was there for two months as an Xmas temp. PAID. How far we’ve fallen in eight years that even this is no longer achievable for young people.