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In yet another train first for us, we managed to find a GWR Class 378 train. According to Wiki, The Class 387 Electrostar is an electric multiple unit (EMU) built by Bombardier Transportation.
It made us happy. And we watched some more at Ealing Broadway.
The GWR Twitter people were very helpful in trying to in down where/when the 378 trains might be running. (Paddington to Maidenhead is your best bet)
There’s a point in the life of most parents of special needs children today that someone sends them, or they come across, the “Welcome to Holland” poem/story, by Emily Perl Kingsley (a sesame street writer, and mother of a Down Syndrome person). It’s a poignant / twee analogy comparing welcoming a disabled little line to a trip to Holland where you were attempting to go to Italy (see end for the piece).
It often divides SEN parents from those who find it on point, to those who... don’t. And those who flip-flop between. (I don't have a strong view, although if you've come here for thoughts on difference, my recommended reading is Far from the Tree by Andrew Solomon)
I suppose we all have expectations for our children. Hopes and dreams. Great expectations, perhaps.
Then the little person comes along. Has not read any of the manuals. Life is reset.
At some point, I think I would have thought it unlikely I would see S on stage, performing actions somewhat enjoying himself. Shouting out some lines.
Yet, this week, that's what I did see.
There is a line of thought suggesting that grief can not be shared. It is too personal, too unique. Yet, the desire to share grief, the want to connect, the ability to be present for someone - that desire to share grief, that can be shared.
There is no universal play about autism, as an ASD person is too unique. Yet, there are plays about the human condition, and all ASD people are human.
Life swings backwards and forwards, circles back, jumps forward; jigeddy-jag.
I don't think I could have easily forseen S on that stage, the flows of life are too complex. I think that's a reason to be hopeful - the wished for happy endings that Annie Proulx speaks about - and a good thought to be thankful for.
Sheryl Sandberg on grief and gratitude. Anoushka on gratitude. Lessons autism has taught me.
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
Thoughts on happiness and meaning. Story telling. A Moth story.
This story is an excerpt from who told his story via Moth. And from The Power of Meaning a book by Emily Esfahani Smith.
“ERIK KOLBELL VIVIDLY remembers the summer in 2003 when his daughter Kate got her first job. Kate, who was then fourteen and living in New York with her family, had been hired to work as a mother’s helper in the Hamptons. She was excited to move to Long Island and assume some of the responsibilities of adulthood. But her life, and Erik’s, came to a screeching halt two weeks after she started working.
On July 31, Erik received a call from his wife: “Kate’s been hit by a car.” “The next thing I remember,” Erik said, “was driving in the car out to Stony Brook Hospital and not knowing how serious it was, what condition she was in, where she was hit, or if she was alive.” He eventually learned that she was in surgery with a pediatric neurosurgeon. That, Erik said, gave him three pieces of information: “Number one: she was alive. Number two: this was serious. Number three: neurosurgeon. She had a brain injury.”
At the hospital, Erik was led to a private waiting area, where the neurosurgeon came in to see him and his wife. “She is in a medically induced coma,” the doctor said. “Her vitals are stable. We had to remove a piece of her skull,” he continued, “in order to relieve the pressure on her head, on her brain.” The procedure had never been performed on a child before, Erik said, but it was the doctor’s “Hail Mary. It was all he had.” It was not enough.
Late that night, her intracranial pressure spiked. She had to be taken into brain surgery once more. Erik was telling this story into a microphone, on a velvet-curtained stage in a cozy wood-paneled room as part of an evening of storytelling organized by a group called The Moth. He looked out onto an audience of nearly three hundred people sitting in tightly packed rows and told them the thought that went running through his head when he found out that Kate was being wheeled into her second brain surgery of the night: “Where is the good in any of this?” Just twenty minutes earlier, during a boozy intermission, the room had been filled with laughter and noise.
Now the audience all leaned forward in rapt silence as Erik shared his story. When Kate came out of her second brain surgery, Erik continued, it was 5 a.m. and she was stable. The doctors eventually transferred her to Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City, where she underwent intensive rounds of therapy. Because of the accident, she could no longer speak or do math, her depth perception was impaired, and she had lost nearly all of her memories. But by October, she was able to return to school part-time and continued to attend rehab. By November, she was well enough that she returned to Stony Brook so that the doctors could replace the part of her skull that they had removed in July. This would be her third brain surgery. “It was kind of a triumphal reentry,” Erik said. “It’s a way of sort of closing the door and saying, ‘Yeah, she’s going to make it.’”
Still, Erik continued searching for the meaning in everything that had happened: “I’m grateful she’s alive,” he thought on the eve of her third brain surgery. “I don’t know how much more of her I am going to get back. Where is the good?” He found it when Kate came out of the surgery. The two of them were in the recovery room. Kate was “still woozy” from the anesthesia when a series of visitors began arriving at her bedside. The first person to come was a doctor. “Kate, you wouldn’t remember me,” he said. “I’m the admitting physician who was in the emergency room the day you came in.” Moments later, a nurse came by: “Kate, you would not remember me, but I was the nurse who was there when the original operating team came and started working on you.” “Kate, you wouldn’t remember me,” another guest said, “but I was the chaplain on duty when you came in and I spent time with your parents.” “Kate,” said the next person, “you wouldn’t remember me, but I was the social worker who oversaw your case.” “Kate,” yet another said, “you wouldn’t remember me, but I was the nurse on duty the second or third day.” It was, Erik recalled, “a parade of smiling faces.”
The last visitor was a nurse named Nancy Strong, who had overseen Kate’s stay in the intensive care unit over the summer. “I pulled her aside and said, ‘You know, I think it’s great that you are all coming by to wish Kate luck. But there’s something else going on here, isn’t there?’” “Yeah,” Nancy said, “there is.” “What’s going on?” “Erik,” she said, “for every ten kids we see with this injury, nine of them die. There is only one Kate. We need to come back and we need to see her, because she is what keeps us coming back to work in this place every day.” “This is the redemption,” Erik realized. “This is the good.”
Her book argues:
“They are the four pillars of meaning: belonging, purpose, storytelling, and transcendence.”
I view it as thinking about second order happiness. Or deeper happiness.
What the Greeks describe (Or Aristotle at least ) as his concept of eudaimonia, the ancient Greek word for “human flourishing.”
Eudaimonia often gets translated as “happiness,” and so Aristotle is often credited with saying that happiness is the highest good and chief goal of our lives. But Aristotle actually had pretty harsh words for those who pursued pleasure and “the life of enjoyment.” He called them “slavish” and “vulgar,” arguing that the feel-good route to the good life that he believed “most men” pursue is more “suitable to beasts” than to human beings. To Aristotle, eudaimonia is not a fleeting positive emotion. Rather, it is something you do. Leading a eudaimonic life, Aristotle argued, requires cultivating the best qualities within you both morally and intellectually and living up to your potential. It is an active life, a life in which you do your job and contribute to society, a life in which you are involved in your community, a life, above all, in which you realize your potential, rather than squander your talents.
This would be distinct from first order happiness or hedonistic happiness.
Psychologists have picked up on Aristotle’s distinction. If hedonia is defined as “feeling good,” they argue, then eudaimonia is defined as “being and doing good”—and as “seeking to use and develop the best in oneself” in a way that fits with “one’s deeper principles.” It is a life of good character. And it pays dividends. As three scholars put it, “The more directly one aims to maximize pleasure and avoid pain, the more likely one is to produce instead a life bereft of depth, meaning, and community.” But those who choose to pursue meaning ultimately live fuller—and happier—lives.
The book looks at several cases studies and also makes a case for the transcendent. It is thought provoking.
But it does make it seem easy.
How many of us really can think like the janitor at NASA. “I’m not cleaning floors, I’m helping man land on the moon”.
Some of us can, but looking around it seems that those who can are in the minority.
Which takes me to this article on the state of the UK after the brexit vote. Moore argues "the issues that divide Britain – from globalisation to social disparity – run deeper than this useless government"
Are we losing meaning at a grand scale ?
Perhaps.
But can we gain it back on a personal or local level.
I think perhaps we can.
The larger sense of belonging has perhaps been semi-permanently split by brexit. But I have hope on a personal scale.
The small every day interactions of life. The quiet mixing and mingling.
While I think we can perhaps reframe the jobs and roles we have in life in a more meaningful way. Especially if we ourselves are treated with respect.
If doctors treat the cleaners with respect and inspire belonging then the cleaners are going to think their jobs is to help save lives - have purpose.
The ability to tell stories. This has grown and continues to grow. From the ministry or stories. To blogs to Facebook. To the story corps. To Moth.
This can help our narratives and again bring us more meaning.
These are two of the strands of Smith's book, while I think it leans a little to the "this can change your life" brigade it does offer some provoking thoughts. Worth a read.
If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try: Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes; or Nassim Taleb's commencement address; or JK Rowling on the benefits of failure. Or Charlie Munger on always inverting; Sheryl Sandberg on grief, resilience and gratitude or investor Ray Dalio on on Principles.
Cross fertilise. Read about the autistic mind here.
Short review notes on iPhone X from casual phone non-tech user.
TLDR If you like Apple you should feel relief that the phone lives mostly up to expectations.
Pros: brilliant screen, great camera, good battery life, water resistant; minor: wireless charging, Face ID works ok, Apple Pay works OK, sound is good.
Cons: no headphone socket, no fingerprint scanner, glass will break if dropped so need case, expensive vs S8/Pixel, the notch for some, some new gestures.
The battery lasts at least a day! This is almost daily life changing. I had not appreciated how annoying the battery packs or the I’m losing battery I will be out of contact soon moments of stress. (Running late with children Ugh).
The screen is brilliant. The notch is not that annoying to me (I admit others might find it annoying) After a few days it’s noticeable how much better the screen is so if you use a phone a lot for reading or web it stands out. I sense it does not overtake the Galaxy S8 though.
The Face ID works ok. It does not get in the way of phone unlocking. I can’t say it is any better though. It is slightly slower to use Apple Pay and the technique is completely different. But it doesn’t put me off any further as I’m not a huge Apple Pay user. A tap with a card is still quicker as is the finger ID on the back of a phone.
I’m not wowed by the Face ID technology. I’m not put off either and I was worried I would be.
New gestures mostly fine. The control centre pull down from the top right is smart. The half swipe up to swap apps is not great. Minor niggles. Not perfection but still great.
Setting up the phone was amazingly seamless and pain free. Wire free.
I’m not a huge music listener but the lack of headphone jack will annoy some. The phone speakers are good to my non expert ears. The adapters look silly, not very Apple.
Portrait mode effect, no set up before snap. Effects pretty good.
Photos: The photos are noticeably better from front and back cameras than my old iphone. Colours better. Detail. Low light better. Video is better. I’ve only done a handful but if you are into the selfie art movement this camera won’t disappoint. Good enough for any casual facebooking, LinkedIn twitter insta stuff and any causal YouTubing or even more. I think it more or less matches the best out there though is not better, I sense. The portrait mode is ok to make the blurred back ground effect (bokoh), very simple - though I've only tried natural lights.
It’s nice to hold but you will need a case. 1000 £/$ of phone will need a case. I’d consider insurance too if you are more accident prone than average.
Overall 9/10. There are minor flaws. There is nothing astoundingly new vs other phones. But it does takes all the latest tech and makes a very comfortable Apple experience. I’m paying 55 a month for 2 years (which will more than meet my data needs with no upfront) and given the price of S8 or Pixel, I’d say it was expensive but not crippling if you have a contract that partially subsidises it. No reason to switch from android / S8 / Pixel. But it’s enough to keep me in the Apple system rather than switch which is what I was contemplating.
If you like Apple you should feel relief that the phone lives mostly up to expectations.
If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try: Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes; or Nassim Taleb's commencement address; or JK Rowling on the benefits of failure. Or Charlie Munger on always inverting; Sheryl Sandberg on grief, resilience and gratitude or investor Ray Dalio on on Principles.
Cross fertilise. Read about the autistic mind here.
By Aisling Bea (a friend of a friend): a very moving piece in the Guardian: mine headline and her letter below - but read the whole piece - link in the mini headline.
"My father’s death has given me a love of men, of their vulnerability and tenderness’
[...]
To Daddy, here is my note to you:
I’m sad you killed yourself, because I really think that, if you could see the life you left behind, you would regret it. You didn’t get to see the Berlin wall fall or Ireland qualify for Italia 90. You didn’t get to see all the encyclopedias that you bought for us to one day ‘use at university’ get squashed into a CD and subsequently the internet. You have never got to hear your younger daughter’s voice – it annoys me sometimes, but it has also said some of the most amazing things when drunk. I think you would have been proud to watch your daughter do standup at the O2 and sad to see my mother watching it on her own. Then again, if you hadn’t died, I probably wouldn’t have been mad enough to become a clown for a living. I am your daughter and I am really fucking funny, just like you. But, unlike you, I’m going to stop being it for five minutes and write our story in the hope that it may help someone who didn’t get to have a box turn up, or who may not feel ‘in their right mind’ right now and needs a reminder to find hope.
Aisling
• In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found atbefrienders.org
Megan in her Ted talk below gives thoughts on how to persuade someone away from their world view.
She left 20 years later because strangers on Twitter changed her mind.
“Initially, the people I encountered on the platform were just as hostile as I expected,” she says. But slowly that changed. They started to ask about her beliefs, and she asked about theirs. Their conversations planted seeds of doubt, and slowly her entire worldview shifted — eventually driving her to leave the church (and the beliefs that came with it) behind.
Her tips below and her ted talk.
Assuming ill motives almost instantly cuts us off from truly understanding why someone does and believes as they do. We forget they’re a human being with a lifetime of experience that shaped their mind, we get stuck on that first wave of anger, and the conversation has a very hard time ever moving beyond it.
But when we assume good or neutral intent, we give our minds a much stronger framework for dialogue.
When we engage people across ideological divides, asking questions helps us map the disconnect between our differing points of view. That’s important because we can’t present effective arguments if we don’t understand where the other side is actually coming from and it gives them an opportunity to point out flaws in our positions.
But asking questions serves another purpose; it signals to someone they’re being heard. When my friends on Twitter stopped accusing and started asking questions, I almost automatically mirrored them. Their questions gave me room to speak, but they also gave me permission to ask them questions and truly hear their responses. It fundamentally changed the dynamic of our conversation.
This takes practice and patience, but it’s powerful. When my husband was still just an anonymous Twitter acquaintance, our discussions frequently became hard and pointed, but we always refused to escalate. Instead, he would change the subject. He would tell a joke or recommend a book or gently excuse himself from the conversation. We knew the discussion wasn’t over, just paused for a time to bring us back to an even keel.
[The staying calm is harder in real life, one advantage online might have; but if you can stay calm it can really help the conversation more forward.]
This might seem obvious, but one side effect of having strong beliefs is we sometimes assume that the value of our position is, or should be, obvious and self-evident; that we shouldn’t have to defend our positions because they’re so clearly right and good; that if someone doesn’t get it, it’s their problem — that it’s not my job to educate them. But if it were that simple, we would all see things the same way.
As kind as my friends on Twitter were, if they hadn’t actually made their arguments, it would’ve been so much harder for me to see the world in a different way. We are all a product of our upbringing, and our beliefs reflect our experiences. We can’t expect others to spontaneously change their own minds. If we want change, we have to make the case for it.
[This is where the case for engagement also comes from, divesting from the argument means it can be harder to affect change]
If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try:
Ursula K Le Guin on literature as an operating manual for life;
Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes;
Nassim Taleb's commencement address;
Charlie Munger on always inverting; JK Rowling on the benefits of failure.
There is also Anne Lamott on writing and truth as paradox. And Oprah on gratitude and service.
Plus Sheryl Sandberg on grief, gratitude and resilience.
2 million downloads in first week. Not bad. You can join too: Properties of Expanding Universes although I suspect for understanding you'd do better with his Brief History of Time.
Quick hit jobs that have caught my eye. Job links of interest in sustainability / finance / art / healthcare.
CAS - Chinese Arts Space - looking for a new Artistic Director.
GSK - new pension fund manager -
Anglia Ruskin / Global Sustainability Institute (GSI) are looking for a new research fellow https://www24.i-grasp.com/fe/tpl_angliaruskin01.asp?newms=jj&id=68960&aid=14138
Barclays - Diversity https://barclays.taleo.net/careersection/2/jobdetail.ftl?job=90130511&lang=en_GB&src=JB-14940
Towers Watson - ESG/RI sustainable investment consultant
https://careers.willistowerswatson.com/en-US/job/sustainable-investment-analyst-consultant/J3K65L6PTJ5Q8QM86SH
Goldman Sachs - Sustainable supply chain
https://careers-goldmansachs.icims.com/jobs/39679/sustainable-supply-chain-associate---london/job?hub=7&mobile=false&needsRedirect=false&bid=9993932
Unicorn theatre - Stage manager Xmas show
Natural History Museum - dinosaur brain imaging! http://www.artsjobs.org.uk/arts-job/post/postdoctoral-researcher-dinosaur-cranial-imaging/
Asst Curator - design museum (30 Oct) - http://www.artsjobs.org.uk/arts-job/post/assistant-curator-66/
Couple senior leadership positions at Arts Council - including Head of Museums, http://gs12.globalsuccessor.com/fe/tpl_arts_council01.asp?newms=jj&id=88234&aid=16034
IntoArt looking for Assistant Artist Facilitator is a new and exciting role for someone with a visual arts background looking to work in an inclusive art studio setting working with people with learning disabilities. (Initial 12 weekly studio based art workshops, January – March 2018) Intoart is an art and design studio based in London working inclusively with people with learning disabilities.
(from 14 Oct, deadlines may have passed)
Albany Theatre (Deptford/London) looking for creative programmer.
Tate are looking for an Information Manager
Photographer, filmmaker Briony Campbellis looking for multi-talented assistants. She wants superwomen if you ask me, but might suit some freelancers.
Eclipse/Slate: If you’re a BAME artist working in any form or medium, currently based in the North of England, and you have an idea or a project you’re ready to get off the ground – this is for you.
Instagram (right) + iPhone snap (left of ES magazine, top crown of braids airburshed out)
How unthinking, uninformed and unwoke can the Evening Standard Magazine be to airbrush the crown of braids from an artist famous for her work - don’t touch my hair.
The headline even: Owning my body is really important to me.
So ES airbrushes her hair.
Gulp.
“Braiding is an act of beauty... and an act of tradition - it is its own art form”
So go ahead censor her life and art.
Want a lively informative conversation ask a black woman about her hair, what she thinks about it and how it’s been represented over the last 50 years.
But don’t touch it.
Read more about the black American experience here as told by Ta-Nehisi Coates.
Or interested in Arts or Investing.
First part of my conversation with Jonathan Meth. This is the second, mainly about Fenc.
We spoke about his work with Fence. It struck me that Fence sounded like a family of artists, connected and challenging - as families can be. We discussed the idea as a playwright as a public artist, bring together other artists and thinkers to make work, be a part of work.
This project All our tomorrows: Ireland has struck oil! - will it be Norway or Nigeria? is one expression of this. It’s happening on 19 Oct in London, and I’m hoping to go.
“Ireland has struck oil – but will be it Norway or Nigeria? is a performance project from The Fence network of international playwrights and theatre makers in partnership with King’s. It will stage and audio record performance and discussion for a live audience on an imagined future scenario, mapping a moment of crisis in Europe from creative, journalistic and academic perspectives.
This performance will explore the urgent questions thrown up by Ireland’s reversal of fortunes and its new oil-rich future, particularly in relation to its Celtic Tiger past and the fall-out from the Credit Crunch, but also in relation to big brother – the British state and its expertise in matters of oil… Where and what are the borders between Irish and British interests? What does Ireland imagine for itself? What can be learnt from experience in Nigeria and in Norway with the challenges of oil?
As the first of the planned All Our Tomorrows series of live performance and audio recordings, this event is developed by Irish-Nigerian playwright Gabriel Gbadamosi as creative editor with a professional radio producer and cross disciplinary academics as pundits. It is produced on behalf of The Fence network of international playwrights and cultural operators by Jonathan Meth.”
This multi-discipline approach appeals to me. Yes, playwrights write plays, and theatres with a bunch of professionals and performers put them on. But there’s more. What I’m finding with the mingle, what I’ve always known in my investment work, is that different disciplines, different thinkers coming together can create new brilliant ways of seeing, different answers to complex questions; or complex answers to deceptively simple questions. Or just have a fun time together.
Time for more? Here’s a short post on 5 things autism has taught me. Here is JK Rowling on the benefits of failure.
New York. New York. I heart you.
The easy to find sushi on a Sunday night.
But what's with all the nail bars? The white-teeth-mani-pedi thing? And the subtle or not so subtle split between the clients and the staff.
And your metro is deteriorating. I thought London had somewhat lost the plot with its infrastructure arguments. But Cross rail is almost done, and the Tube has at least stood still if not progressed. I still think London is sub-par in its long term infrastructure thinking especially vs China, Asian cities. But New York seems a notch behind; the traffic, the subway, the trains - very very creaky to me...
Its art heart still beating strong though, like London. And your new libraries put London to shame.
Elegant, flowing, beautiful hands. Chatting with Jonathan Meth, I was struck by how eloquent his hands were.
Social decorum crimped me and I felt I couldn’t interject to say - wow your hands wonderfully mesmerize me. Social media strips decorum, so I can say that now.
My writing threads go back to when Jonathan ran writernet which harks back almost 20 years ago now. Now, I’m stepping back into a writing practice or perhaps a playwright as a multi-disciplinary arts-investing person, a some time mingler - which I’m told is a form of covening. It’s amazing to re-connect and hear how artists’ work have developed.
Jonathan has kept an international network of artists through Fence, which seems to me an evolution from the dramaturgical work of writernet (I will split the post and write about Fence in another section). He has also developed a practice in disability arts - and our shared interest in autism crosses over here. There’s a lot to Jonathan’s practice.
Across time and space, we end up on a warm New York autumn evening drinking a bar tender’s choice of drink, 10 over years since we last met.
The disability practice is described in this 2015 Guardian article and on his own site here. What I took away is that there is a strong disability arts practice in various countries, often forging on with limited support, but creating a long history or astonishing art. Three of them are partnered in Crossing the Line (not to be confused with the project that Gideon Lester and others are involved with): Crossing The Line (EU) is a project of the co-operative partnership of 3 European theatre companies: all leaders in the field of working with learning disabled artists. The partners are Moomsteatern in Malmo, Sweden; Compagnie de L’Oiseau Mouche in Roubaix, France and Mind The Gap in Bradford, UK. Jonathan is project dramaturg, and is hoping to expand the partnership to many more countries.
We also intersect on Ambitious about Autism. This is an ABA led group in the UK on ASD special education needs; but Ambitious acknowledges that the tent is larger than ABA and so pushes forward across a range of ASD advocacy; as child-centric and child-led practise informs much of good SEN (and typical) practice today, whatever techniques you find that work (and research is still relatively poor).
Drawing this part together, it was apparent to me that Jonathan speaks many languages. The language of art in its many dialects, the language of SEN, the language of policy makers and funders.
It dawned on me, I speak several of these languages too, and that we need more of us in today’s word. More than ever.
Jonathan spoke of Isaiah Berlin’s Fox (after Greek poet Archilochus) who ‘know many little things’. As Jonathan writes: “They react to challenge by drawing on a pattern of general, pragmatic understanding, often making mistakes but seldom committing themselves to a potentially catastrophic grand strategy.” As opposed to the hedgehog, which knows one big thing. It reminded me of this Nassim Taleb conversation with philosopher Constantine Sandis - Taleb argues a cousin piece of thinking:
“I do not consider myself a hedgehog, but a fox: I warn against focusing (‘anchoring’) on a single possible rare event. Rather, be prepared for the fact that the next large surprise, technological or historical, will not resemble what you have in mind (big surprises are what some people call ‘unknown unknowns’). In other words, learn to be abstract, and think in second order effects rather than being anecdotal – which I show to be against human nature. And crucially, rare events in Extremistan are more consequential by their very nature: the once-every-hundred-year flood is more damaging than the 10 year one, and less frequent.”
Being open minded, being open to possibilities when they happen, intertwining chance - taking those chances - those challenges are absorbing them to make you stronger (anti-fragile, even more than resilient)
Looping back to Spike, that chimes with some of what I hope for him, that we can expose him to enough small and varied challenges and opportunities that he find enough to think, and be, and to find purpose. It’s hard for Spike to do that within an institution. We will find a way.
This last few days in New York has felt a little like that - throwing out the the threads - listening - thinking - being - meeting: from the chance meetings (triggered by the Empty Space), the semi-chance meetings like Jonathan; the near misses (Gideon, I’m still hoping); the re-connections;
Mixed in with the latest in pharmaceutical, medical technology and consumer genetic thinking.
And, I am thankful for that. Part two of conversation here.
Time for more? Here’s a short post on 5 things autism has taught me. Here is JK Rowling on the benefits of failure.
Had a good test of slow thinking (rationale thoughtful) brain vs fast thinking (emotional flight fight) brain this week.
S had to under go sedation to fix a tooth hole. His sensory sensitivity from his autistic traits made a traditional operation impossible though he tried very hard.
"Don't worry. I'm a resuscitation specialist!"
Strangely that's not the thought you want running through your mind.
I see a lot of the world through the lens of healthcare. Nothing is risk free.
Aspirin takes away headache pain with a chance of a stomach bleed.
Car helps you travel with a risk of a crash.
Living and loving makes you feel like nothing else does but with the inevitable pain of a loved one's death (which also makes you feel like nothing else).
A hole in a tooth would inevitably lead to infection and then quite possibly lead to severe illness or blood poisoning and death.
Sedation medication has a tiny chance of severe allergic shock or overdose that the need for a resuscitation specialist is so small as to be almost meaningless to calculate.
That's not what hits your brain first though when you think your child might die.
Our sense of risk if often inaccurate. It is tied up in our emotions. It is tied up in stories. It is tied up in the narratives we hear.
Even the language of risk we hear differently. We hear two out of three as a different risk to 66.6%.
We fear our children kidnapped on the streets. The stories we hear amplify that fear. And so today we believe our streets are less safe than before and our children lose the benefit of play and making decisions for themselves; and perhaps living free too. The loss is real. The risk fears are close to fantasy.
Yes. There are child gangs. But fewer than 100 years ago.
Yes. There are child groomers. But men and girls can still dance.
Yes. We still die. But life expectancy is at an all time high
... if we can but grab on to life and not fear.
Another personal piece in my thanks to Gideon. If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try: Ursula K Le Guin on literature as an operating manual for life; Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes; or Nassim Taleb's commencement address; or JK Rowling on the benefits of failure. Or Charlie Munger on always inverting.
How many “people in the street” know about SDGs? Do you? Exactly. Again, be the change you’d like to be… (which Ghandi didn't really say) so crammed into Tube journeys, and troubled autistic nights of broken sleep, I did outline a new framework for global governance for the Global Challenge Foundation. Does that sound incredible? Perhaps, it sounds extraordinary. I don’t think it is. It took a few weeks and some determined thinking, while working full time and being fully involved in family life, so if I can do it - you can do it too. I think >14,000 others did as well at last count, so hopefully there will be some good ideas. PS Message me, if you'd like an abstract, the entry is anonymous so I don't think we can post about it until after judging.
These are SDGs = Sustainable Development Goals. (and below)
My post on the Global Challenge is here
If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try: Ursula K Le Guin on literature as an operating manual for life; Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes; or Nassim Taleb's commencement address; Charlie Munger on always inverting; JK Rowling on the benefits of failure.
Source: UN
You can study gravity forever without learning how to fly.
-Shawn Achor Happiness Advantage
If you'd like to feel inspired by commencement addresses and life lessons try: Ursula K Le Guin on literature as an operating manual for life; Neil Gaiman on making wonderful, fabulous, brilliant mistakes; or Nassim Taleb's commencement address; or JK Rowling on the benefits of failure. Or Charlie Munger on always inverting.
Cross fertilise. Read about theautistic mind here. On investing try a thought on stock valuations. Or Ray Dalio on populism and risk.