Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Short post
Right, I'm done with writing long, involved posts for a couple of days now. I'll carry on with the "On..." series at the weekend.
On Bullying
I was going to write my piece on religion today but watching Breakfast this morning I saw that the government is launching a new initiative to tackle bullying so I thought it would be a good time to talk about that instead.
I was bullied while I was in junior school and for the first three years of secondary school as well. It was never anything too serious; verbal, mostly name-calling, rather than physical, which is a lot less than some kids I knew got.
At junior school I was called 'Posho', primarily because my parents had had the gall to teach me to speak properly (i.e. without dropping my t's and h's), which just wasn't the done thing in Stevenage even twenty years ago. I don't think the bullying there lasted through the whole four years I was there but I don't remember when it stopped. I do remember getting upset about it when I was at home but I kept fairly tight-lipped about it even there. I'm sure my parents knew something was up but exactly what they knew, I can't say.
The reasons behind the bullying at secondary school were different, largely because the school was on the other side of town and only one other kid from my primary school went there too. There the reasons were that I was one of the most intelligent boys in the year and at the same time utterly unable to deal with being bullied, probably because of what had gone on before. The kids looking for some reason to feel superior to me therefore turned to bullying. Again, it was mainly name-calling and in time I developed rudimentary ways to cope with it. I began to bottle all my feelings up inside until I could contain them no longer and they all came out in a mass of rage. Often that happened at home.
Obviously, this didn't really work too well. I was still unhappy, at times mildly depressed, and on top of that I was getting angry on a regular basis. Then, one day in my third year, I noticed that the reason I was being bullied had changed. Or at least had evolved into something else. No longer was it just because I was smart. Now it was more because they enjoyed seeing me bottle it all up and then explode.
It was a revelation to me. I finally had a way out. All I had to do was stop reacting and it would all go away. That may sound easier said than done but I did do it. Initially I was still bottling it up but my new-found knowledge stopped me from losing my head, at least at school but as the bullies lost interest in me it got easier and easier until finally it went away altogether.
Since then I've found out that I don't need to bottle anything up. If someone says something about me that I don't like I just ignore it. Let them say it. What harm can it do me?
In general, bullying is a tough nut to crack. It's done for all sorts of reasons, by different types of people and to various kinds of victims. The fear and shame of the victim often keeps it secret and even if someone is told it can't always be proven and dealt with. It's also an issue with a lot of grey areas. How do you define bullying accurately? Is it when the actions of the bully are intentionally malicious, even if the victim doesn't see it that way, or is it when someone feels victimised, even if the 'bully' didn't mean it like that. Or is it something else entirely? At what point does a fun nickname become the tool of a bully? When does friendly play-fighting become physical abuse?
And that doesn't even begin to address the problem itself. How do you get a victim of bullying to open up and admit it? How do you then stop the bully from doing it? I rarely admitted it to anyone at the time and found my own way of dealing with it but then I wasn't bullied in any serious way. What do you do if the victim is seriously depressed, even suicidal? What if it’s physical as well as mental abuse? What if they are an adult rather than a child?
There are so many questions and, it seems, too few answers. I just hope that if my children are ever bullied, I will notice that something is wrong and be able to take steps to put it right.
I was bullied while I was in junior school and for the first three years of secondary school as well. It was never anything too serious; verbal, mostly name-calling, rather than physical, which is a lot less than some kids I knew got.
At junior school I was called 'Posho', primarily because my parents had had the gall to teach me to speak properly (i.e. without dropping my t's and h's), which just wasn't the done thing in Stevenage even twenty years ago. I don't think the bullying there lasted through the whole four years I was there but I don't remember when it stopped. I do remember getting upset about it when I was at home but I kept fairly tight-lipped about it even there. I'm sure my parents knew something was up but exactly what they knew, I can't say.
The reasons behind the bullying at secondary school were different, largely because the school was on the other side of town and only one other kid from my primary school went there too. There the reasons were that I was one of the most intelligent boys in the year and at the same time utterly unable to deal with being bullied, probably because of what had gone on before. The kids looking for some reason to feel superior to me therefore turned to bullying. Again, it was mainly name-calling and in time I developed rudimentary ways to cope with it. I began to bottle all my feelings up inside until I could contain them no longer and they all came out in a mass of rage. Often that happened at home.
Obviously, this didn't really work too well. I was still unhappy, at times mildly depressed, and on top of that I was getting angry on a regular basis. Then, one day in my third year, I noticed that the reason I was being bullied had changed. Or at least had evolved into something else. No longer was it just because I was smart. Now it was more because they enjoyed seeing me bottle it all up and then explode.
It was a revelation to me. I finally had a way out. All I had to do was stop reacting and it would all go away. That may sound easier said than done but I did do it. Initially I was still bottling it up but my new-found knowledge stopped me from losing my head, at least at school but as the bullies lost interest in me it got easier and easier until finally it went away altogether.
Since then I've found out that I don't need to bottle anything up. If someone says something about me that I don't like I just ignore it. Let them say it. What harm can it do me?
In general, bullying is a tough nut to crack. It's done for all sorts of reasons, by different types of people and to various kinds of victims. The fear and shame of the victim often keeps it secret and even if someone is told it can't always be proven and dealt with. It's also an issue with a lot of grey areas. How do you define bullying accurately? Is it when the actions of the bully are intentionally malicious, even if the victim doesn't see it that way, or is it when someone feels victimised, even if the 'bully' didn't mean it like that. Or is it something else entirely? At what point does a fun nickname become the tool of a bully? When does friendly play-fighting become physical abuse?
And that doesn't even begin to address the problem itself. How do you get a victim of bullying to open up and admit it? How do you then stop the bully from doing it? I rarely admitted it to anyone at the time and found my own way of dealing with it but then I wasn't bullied in any serious way. What do you do if the victim is seriously depressed, even suicidal? What if it’s physical as well as mental abuse? What if they are an adult rather than a child?
There are so many questions and, it seems, too few answers. I just hope that if my children are ever bullied, I will notice that something is wrong and be able to take steps to put it right.
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
On Numbers
As I’ve mentioned once or twice already, numbers are my game, what I’m good at. They’ve always fascinated me. When I was very young I refused to learn to read until I went to school and nothing my parents did got me to change my mind. I can be a stubborn little git when I want. :-) Numbers, though, were a completely different matter. By the time I was four I could count to any number a four-year old could conceivably come across and found basic arithmetic easy. If someone had told my parents then that fifteen years later I’d be at university studying for a degree in maths, they would not have been very surprised.
Numbers are all around us and in everything we do. The computer I used to write this post runs on numbers, for example. Try as you might, there are very few things in this world that you could explain without using some sort of number that would not be explained more simply with it. Numbers are part of nature.
We use many different numbering systems without even thinking about it, such as the bizarre system we use to split time into seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years or those that describe height or weight. These systems seem over-complicated when compared to one of the simplest of all, the decimal system, yet we resist any efforts to change from imperial measurements to metric. Why is that? It’s certainly not because the new system is too difficult to use. Is it, then, because we think it’s too difficult to learn?
The thing that fascinates me most about numbers is that, despite them working in clear, predictable ways, they can throw up the most surprising results. Like the fact that you can never predict which numbers are prime (other than that they must be odd if they are larger than 2), or that if you pick out 23 random people the chances are better than even that at least two of them will share the same birthday. That second one goes against what most would consider logical argument but it is true.
Take the Fibonacci series, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55…, where each number is the sum of the previous two. You may think that arithmetic is a creation of the human mind and that this series, made by adding its own elements together, is therefore unnatural. If that’s the case, why do they crop up again and again in nature? The number of leaf points on a fern frond and the number of petals on a flower are usually Fibonacci numbers; anything else is the exception, not the rule. How, then can the series be a man-made invention?
The Fibonacci series has other odd properties. For example, if you take any four consecutive numbers in the series, multiply the second and third together and subtract it from the product of the first and third then the answer is either 1 or –1. In fact, if you take the first four numbers the answer is 1 but if you take the fours numbers starting on the second 1 (i.e. 1, 2, 3 & 5) the answer is –1 and it keeps on alternating every time you take the next starting number. And that’s not something I’ve seen in a book, I have proven it myself.
That’s another of the things I love about numbers (and mathematics in general). These surprising results are accessible to us if we know how to get them; we don’t always have to rely on books to know that something is true. And there is a great deal of satisfaction in proving to yourself that something is or isn’t true.
I could go at even greater length about this subject (believe me, it’s been a struggle to keep it this short) but I don’t think I’ll bore you any longer. I think you’ll know by now that I’m more than a little passionate about it.
Numbers are all around us and in everything we do. The computer I used to write this post runs on numbers, for example. Try as you might, there are very few things in this world that you could explain without using some sort of number that would not be explained more simply with it. Numbers are part of nature.
We use many different numbering systems without even thinking about it, such as the bizarre system we use to split time into seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years or those that describe height or weight. These systems seem over-complicated when compared to one of the simplest of all, the decimal system, yet we resist any efforts to change from imperial measurements to metric. Why is that? It’s certainly not because the new system is too difficult to use. Is it, then, because we think it’s too difficult to learn?
The thing that fascinates me most about numbers is that, despite them working in clear, predictable ways, they can throw up the most surprising results. Like the fact that you can never predict which numbers are prime (other than that they must be odd if they are larger than 2), or that if you pick out 23 random people the chances are better than even that at least two of them will share the same birthday. That second one goes against what most would consider logical argument but it is true.
Take the Fibonacci series, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55…, where each number is the sum of the previous two. You may think that arithmetic is a creation of the human mind and that this series, made by adding its own elements together, is therefore unnatural. If that’s the case, why do they crop up again and again in nature? The number of leaf points on a fern frond and the number of petals on a flower are usually Fibonacci numbers; anything else is the exception, not the rule. How, then can the series be a man-made invention?
The Fibonacci series has other odd properties. For example, if you take any four consecutive numbers in the series, multiply the second and third together and subtract it from the product of the first and third then the answer is either 1 or –1. In fact, if you take the first four numbers the answer is 1 but if you take the fours numbers starting on the second 1 (i.e. 1, 2, 3 & 5) the answer is –1 and it keeps on alternating every time you take the next starting number. And that’s not something I’ve seen in a book, I have proven it myself.
That’s another of the things I love about numbers (and mathematics in general). These surprising results are accessible to us if we know how to get them; we don’t always have to rely on books to know that something is true. And there is a great deal of satisfaction in proving to yourself that something is or isn’t true.
I could go at even greater length about this subject (believe me, it’s been a struggle to keep it this short) but I don’t think I’ll bore you any longer. I think you’ll know by now that I’m more than a little passionate about it.
A couple of Grauniad links
What do get for the friend that has everything? How about a pack of Iraq's Most Wanted playing cards? Or some Saddam Hussein toilet roll? These and more can be found here.
A good article on the future of blogging by the author of plasticbag.org. If the numbers of blogs explode as many people expect it too (and who am I to argue, I'm one of the many new bloggers) then how do we go about finding the content that we want amongst all the irrelevant information? Could blog search engines be created to search for specific posts? Would a central library of blogs, with descriptions of content, style etc., help you to find the ones you want to read? Do you have any better ideas?
A good article on the future of blogging by the author of plasticbag.org. If the numbers of blogs explode as many people expect it too (and who am I to argue, I'm one of the many new bloggers) then how do we go about finding the content that we want amongst all the irrelevant information? Could blog search engines be created to search for specific posts? Would a central library of blogs, with descriptions of content, style etc., help you to find the ones you want to read? Do you have any better ideas?
Aaarrgh!
I've got tons of work to do. Most of it was needed yesterday or last week, the rest by the end of the month and I'm probably going to be out of the office for two weeks before then. The last thing I need is to have to fix a problem in a system designed by a guy who works in a different subsidiary of the company, is generally unhelpful because it's nothing to do with him any more and is on holiday for two weeks. There's no documentation on how it all works and I have very little working knowledge. If he'd told me on Thursday when I last talked to him that he was going away then I would have moved heaven and earth to get it sorted by the end of last week, but no. Now I've got to flounder around and see if I can fix it without any real idea of what I'm doing. While the rest of my work just piles up beside me.
And I'm developing a major headache. It is not a good day.
And I'm developing a major headache. It is not a good day.
Public Service Announcement
Do you have trouble parking? Do you wish someone or something else could do it for you? Well, look no further because I have the answer to your prayers.
Clear Blue Skies presents to you, the amazing Self-Parking Car.
Clear Blue Skies presents to you, the amazing Self-Parking Car.
Monday, September 01, 2003
Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon
Yesterday was a very poor TV day so, since L and I couldn't be bothered to go out anywhere, we decided to spend the day watching films. Though we started with the one of the best films ever made, things unfortunately went downhill from there.
First up was the Shawshank Redemption. I'd not seen it before and was quite literally blown away. A thoroughly excellent film from beginning to end and one I wish I'd made the effort to watch earlier. Excellent perfomances from all the cast and a storyline that keeps you interested until the end. It now rates as one of my favourites of all time.
Next came This Year's Love, another I hadn't seen before. A comedy of relationships going sour in Camden with a great cast. It has a few inspired moments and overall is a good, fun film with depressing undertones.
Lastly, and most definitely least, we stopped watching videos and turned onto Channel Five for The Avengers. I decided soon after the beginning to read my book while this was on and still saw enough to know that it has to be one of the worst films ever made. What made people like Sean Connery and Eddie Izzard even consider acting in it I'll never know. Poor even by Five's standards. :-)
Bonus viewing: Rosemary and Thyme, ITV's latest feel-good detective series. I feared this would be the usual sort of Sunday night fare from ITV, syrupy sweet and rose-tinted but I was pleasantly surprised. Pam Ferris and Felicity Kendal were both good and the show, though it could never be called gritty, did at least have some substance. Unless Channel Four decide to put the West Wing back on Sunday nights, I may well watch it again.
First up was the Shawshank Redemption. I'd not seen it before and was quite literally blown away. A thoroughly excellent film from beginning to end and one I wish I'd made the effort to watch earlier. Excellent perfomances from all the cast and a storyline that keeps you interested until the end. It now rates as one of my favourites of all time.
Next came This Year's Love, another I hadn't seen before. A comedy of relationships going sour in Camden with a great cast. It has a few inspired moments and overall is a good, fun film with depressing undertones.
Lastly, and most definitely least, we stopped watching videos and turned onto Channel Five for The Avengers. I decided soon after the beginning to read my book while this was on and still saw enough to know that it has to be one of the worst films ever made. What made people like Sean Connery and Eddie Izzard even consider acting in it I'll never know. Poor even by Five's standards. :-)
Bonus viewing: Rosemary and Thyme, ITV's latest feel-good detective series. I feared this would be the usual sort of Sunday night fare from ITV, syrupy sweet and rose-tinted but I was pleasantly surprised. Pam Ferris and Felicity Kendal were both good and the show, though it could never be called gritty, did at least have some substance. Unless Channel Four decide to put the West Wing back on Sunday nights, I may well watch it again.
Normal Service (2)
Announcement heard at Bank station on the way home this evening: (in posh, recorded message type voice)
"The Northern Line is running normally this evening."
What does it say about the state of the tube if they have to announce that there aren't any problems on it, hmm?
"The Northern Line is running normally this evening."
What does it say about the state of the tube if they have to announce that there aren't any problems on it, hmm?
Normal Service (1)
The bloody internet access at work was up the spout almost all day and was there any hint of an explanation? You've got to be joking. Don't they realise people have serious blogging to do? Oh, and work, of course.
On Optimism
I think the inspiration behind the name of this blog would be a good place to start this series of "On ..." articles. I went through many names in my head and, as I mentioned in a comment sometime last week, I almost settled on 'Obscured by Clouds'. However, I decided that wasn't really me because it has a slightly negative, pessimistic vibe to it and I'm a optimistic sort of guy. That lead, quite naturally, to Clear Blue Skies, which I knew immediately fitted perfectly and which grows on me more and more each day.
I haven't always been an optimist. When I was younger, and bullied at school (more on that another day), I had a fairly bleak outlook on life. I was unhappy, even on the edge of depression once or twice, and unable to see it getting any better. The very model of pessimism. That gradually changed as I grew up. Life had already started to go my way but I got a big boost when I went to University. There I was able to start all over, make new friends who accepted me for who I was rather than who I had been years before and I found out that I actually liked myself.
My outlook changed dramatically during the four years I was in Manchester and Mainz. First of all it was 'que sera sera', an acceptance of what was heading my way without any thought to whether it was good or bad. That slowly became the belief that whatever else happened, there would always be good times, a thought to keep my spirits up when times were bad. Falling in love twice while I was there, falling into job after job (each one better than the last) since I left, moving into London and getting engaged and married has since moulded me into the optimist I now am. Life is going to keep on getting better. I just know it.
I know all the reasons for having a pessimistic view of life, "I'll never be disappointed" etc., but I don't think much of them any more. How can you ever truly enjoy the happy moments if you believe worse is round the corner? How can you pick yourself up when you're low if you don't think sunny days are ahead? No, pessimism isn't for me any longer, it's optimism all the way, now.
I haven't always been an optimist. When I was younger, and bullied at school (more on that another day), I had a fairly bleak outlook on life. I was unhappy, even on the edge of depression once or twice, and unable to see it getting any better. The very model of pessimism. That gradually changed as I grew up. Life had already started to go my way but I got a big boost when I went to University. There I was able to start all over, make new friends who accepted me for who I was rather than who I had been years before and I found out that I actually liked myself.
My outlook changed dramatically during the four years I was in Manchester and Mainz. First of all it was 'que sera sera', an acceptance of what was heading my way without any thought to whether it was good or bad. That slowly became the belief that whatever else happened, there would always be good times, a thought to keep my spirits up when times were bad. Falling in love twice while I was there, falling into job after job (each one better than the last) since I left, moving into London and getting engaged and married has since moulded me into the optimist I now am. Life is going to keep on getting better. I just know it.
I know all the reasons for having a pessimistic view of life, "I'll never be disappointed" etc., but I don't think much of them any more. How can you ever truly enjoy the happy moments if you believe worse is round the corner? How can you pick yourself up when you're low if you don't think sunny days are ahead? No, pessimism isn't for me any longer, it's optimism all the way, now.
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