Thursday, 4 February 2010

My story: A journey to be told: Part 1

Hello. I am currently writing a book about my life experiences and this below is part of it. It still is nowhere near completion and some parts have not been completed yet due to me trying to order my thoughts and recollect memories. I have no idea where my book is going, or when I will finish it. I wanted to share it with the world, to pass on inspiration to anyone struggling with demons. i believe our life experiences make us into the people we are today and the people we will be tomorrow.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it.

Much love as always.

Paul x



Coming from a broken home is tough. The arguments. The trying to fit in. The problematic of having a new man in the house, who was to be my new 'dad'

At around the age of 13, sick and tired of living at home, facing the onslaught I and other teenagers like me - we used to meet up in town most Friday and Saturday nights in town -in the town gardens. We used to drink and smoke, waiting outside Lidl in town for a passerby who would kindly buy us three bottles of cheap cider.

Our social group consisted of around 50-60 people, who were mainly into Punk music, ska and metal. Back in the day, (you probably wouldn't believe) I used to wear my Marilyn Manson Hoody, with tears up the sleeves, painting my fingernails black. Sick and tired of the bullshit that was going in in my home, finding these people were a new lease of life for me, my new so called family.

We smoked and drank each and every weekend. Each weekend would never be the same. Dog poo bins would be set alight, We jumped off flyovers onto trees, and even once one of my 'friends' at the time; was dared to eat a bit of pigeon that was dead on the floor. Bets were placed, which he was offered X amount of cigarettes. He did. He gobbled it up.

Looking back on these days, they were great times. Everyone knew each other, and in a strange way, we looked after each other. People were sleeping with other people, and then the next week they would split up and then someone else would hook up. These times went on for about two years.

We were known as the Goths/skaters. The outsiders. We liked it that way, Well at least I can say I did. We were the rebellious youth, and we didn't give a fuck. WE screamed we shouted we did what we wanted. On many occasions, the 'chavs' or 'townies' used to come down and ongoing street chases and battles occured. sometimes knives were pulled out, sticks and on one occasion a sniper rifle BB gun.

Once in the town centre, I saw some townies picking on one of my friends at the time and decided to say 'leave him alone- he's done nothing wrong!' And I mean these street fights never had a purpose to them. They just happened. Sometimes it got really nasty. After saying this to the guy, I was then jumped and got punched in the face with a special type of ring which cuts you at the same time. I still have the scar on my face, from that.

But like I said, times were good. Still at school but spending a lot of time in 'the unit' (which basically was a isolation room) for all the people the mainstream school couldn't deal with. We were allowed to do what we wanted, as long as we didn't 'kick off' or throw anything. We even had access to the Internet, which a lot of the other parts of my school didn't have at the time.

A lot of my time at school was spent hanging around outside my head of years office Mr Reed. He died a few years ago, from cancer. He was a legend. He was from the generation of the old school teachers, who people naturally respected as he entered any room. My job standing outside Reedy's office was to make him a coffee whenever he needed one. This was supposed to be my punishment for getting kicked out of IT for throwing an orange at the board, or questioning my history teacher on 'hiow do you know that the textbook is telling the truth?'' ( I did worst things than this though, which I regret now of course)

After leaving school, I ended up working at a bowling alley, which was just up the road from my mums house. I smoked weed throughout my school 'career' and continued to do so to get me through working at Bowlplex. I had quite a few friends, and couldn't wait until I was 18 so that I could go out clubbing with the rest of the bowlplex staff. My job was doing the kids parties and cleaning, and during my last year working there, I was the 'Grill Bitch', cooking food, serving the league bowlers teas and coffees etc. It wasn't a bad job, however; it was mind numbing really.

After getting sacked from this job I found another quite quickly, working in a pub not so far from the bowling centre. I was the kitchen porter in which It was my job to keep the illusion running of a nice, clean, tidy restaurant. It was Me VS the waiters and the waitresses, they brought in dirty plates and I had to get rid of them. That was the game.

After this job and still smoking a lot of ganja, I drifted from one job to the next working in hotels, kitchens, shops.

I had moved out of my mums house at around the age of 16, seeking my Independence and also due to the fact that My mum and I have very different opinions on a range of things, as many teenagers and there parents do. I had my own flat, Which comprised of a bed, a desk and a small bathroom. It was great, my friends and I did what we wanted and smoke we did, endlessly staying up playing the PlayStation listening to Cypress Hill and others and then ordering the essential takeaway. This part of life went on for around a year, and I was still managing to hold down a job. I was working at a chain hotel (which I wont name) which was really tough. Long hours and bad pay, to boot. At his point I was smoking more than ever, just to get me through the long arduous days Which meant I started the day walking to work in the dark, And finishing when it was dark again.

To make this situation worse, The kitchen that we worked in was underground, So we saw very little daylight. Cigarette breaks were a godsend allowing a brief glimpse of the passing traffic.

After working here for about 4 months the heavy workload and the abusive chefs led me to the point of madness. There was me with so many dreams and aspirations, stood washing up and picking off the pieces of meat from guests plates. Once we had cleared breakfast, the lunch quickly came upon us. Our only saving grace was the fact that we could talk to each other and talk about how our lives could and would change.

I left this Hotel, on my own accord. I had had enough of the abuse and felt OK just to leave. Happiness was much more important for then Money or paying my rent to the dodgy guys back in the place I was living. I was dealing enough to support myself, pay the rent and get a smoke for myself and my friends.

I lived this way for a few months and ended up getting a 'lay-on' in which we ended up smoking half of - in a weekend. And then I couldn't pay back. Luckily, My 'friend' and I were on good terms and he gave me time to pay back. After two weeks of not paying him back, I was succumbed to selling my possessions. So off went the PlayStation the Cd's, anything and everything. The flat was stripped of all things which kept me sane. Stupidly being in a stoned daze, I ended up getting another 'lay-on' which AGAIN, I stupidly smoked and could pay back. I was right on the edge now. I was still doing agency work form time to time, but nothing that kept a constant flow of money coming in. I had a debt to pay, but nothing to sell and no possessions to shift. This was the end.

The block of flats was basically a crack den. It was full of drugs, prostitution and sometimes even violence. In my current state of mind, this situation only led to more and more paranoia. With no possessions to sell no weed to sell and with rent to pay, I truly now was on shit street. My mum didn't live far from where I was living and was often helping pay the rent, even getting herself into debt to support me. She brought fruit and vegetables around for me, as I was not eating properly, sometimes not eating at all for days.

I cannot explain enough the feeling of going to bed hungry. Its painful. Every time you try to drift off to sleep the images of food appeared in my mind. Times were tough. The 'boys' that ran the hotel/block of flats gave me a week to find the money for the rent, which at this point was around £400 and I had no way of getting any money. I was extremely anxious and paranoid and found it hard to look anyone in the eyes. Once I even stayed in my flat for around 6 days, because the people who had moved into the room next to mine used to let their German Alsatian just wander the corridors. Once when I went to leave the flat to go and buy my weekly tobacco, weed and pot noodles, the dog just ran at me and I quickly slammed the door shut and stood with my back to the door. I started to cry and felt trapped in a life, in which had very little control of. My mind was slipping away from me and I was losing my faith.

then, a few days later, I returned home slid my key into the lock and found that the key would not turn. I went down to the reception area to ask what was the problem.

''Why won't my door unlock?'' ''what room are you?'' barked the woman. ''301'' I answered. ''Well you haven't paid the rent in three weeks according to the book...''

''Yeah I know but...'' I had no answers. No escape. Nowhere to turn.

''Your stuff has been taken out of the room and bagged up'' Oh right OK, not so bad I thought. ''OK, well I need to get a few things if that's OK?'' 'No it isn't. Until you pay rent, you are not getting your stuff back.

So there was me. Nowhere to live, no money, nowhere to go and no clothes or possessions. My life had spiralled out of control. Where should I go? So that night, I wandered the streets bumping into people I knew. I felt free. No possessions, just me and the world. This feeling quickly subsided after a few days of couch surfing at various peoples houses. One night I stayed at a friends house (name omitted) who had been diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Don't get me wrong he was a really nice guy, but sometimes, he would flip. I was really on edge generally speaking anyway, and tired from walking. I settled down for the night on his bedroom floor after drinking cheap cider and listening to old school jungle and drum and bass. Then just as I was about to fall asleep He jumped off his bed and wrapped his duvet sheet around me. The duvet sheet was tight around my neck and I couldn't breathe. I panicked and thought he was going to kill me. His friend who lived down the corridor was also in the flat, and was sat by the window smoking. ''LEAVE him alone!'' he screamed, ''he's just a lad'' trying to calm him down. ''leave him alone your going to kill him..!''

He didn't get off straight away, and after around 30 secs of being choked he got off my back and jumped back into bed.

That night I didn't sleep at all, I kept one eye open looking upon on his sleeping body. I was scared he may try something again. The following morning, I asked him why he did that, and said: ''Why did you try to kill me?''

He denied it at first and did not believe he had done it. Then after explaining how scared I was, his memory seemed to recollect the event of the previous night. He apologised, but I knew it was time to move on again. For a while I slept on the beach, often waking up half soaked by the seashore. I had recently acquired by tent from my mums house and slept three or four nights next to a small stream. I was happy again feeling a little safer. My mind was playing tricks on me though and I started to become slightly religious.

I needed saving and the person I needed saving from- was myself. I often went up to tescos and simply walked in picked up a disposable BBQ a pack of sausages and whatever else I fancied, and walked out without paying. I did this for a few days, until I was so paranoid going in there - I was sure the security guard knew. I was also convinced that the security guard knew of my situation and had been ordered to allow me to steal so that I could sustain myself. The first time ~ I was homeless for around 4 months. The second time not so long, around 2 months.

I was going down and down, deeper and deeper, spiralling out of control and losing sense of myself and my mind.

I was scared and I did not feel very well.

At this point, I find it hard recollect just what happened to me. At one point I was living in a bed a breakfast the next I was going to a mental health day centre - Monday to Friday. I still didn't like looking people in the eye and was told that I had to participate in the meetings. ''I wasn't mad!'' I adamantly reminded my self. I was just desperate. The world was the mad one, not me!

I sat in the day centre for a whole week, in a corridor on a small, rickety yet comfortable chair. Head looking down, looking at passersby shoes. After being in this state of delirium and anxiety for a week, I was called into a doctors office to do a 'routine assessment' I was told. As I entered the room, I sat down nervously, and for the first time in months, someone sat there listening to me. ''Whats wrong?'' she asked.

Fighting back tears, I said: ''I am lost. I don't know WHO I am or what I'm doing here.'' She listened to everything I had to say, and then made a phone call and sent me back out again. I returned to my rickety chair and looked down at the ground..

Thoughts raced around my brain. What have I done? what have I said? I shouldn't have been honest with her! what will happen now? I pondered. a few hours later, an ambulance came to pick me up from the day centre and took me to 'St Ann's hospital'

I was still smoking weed at this point, but no longer could sustain my habit. I would have smoked more to ease the pain, but I relied on others generosity for a smoke.

The first night I was on 'alumhurst ward' Which was a mixed ward. I was shown around briefly by a nurse, and then taken to a dorm and shown to my bed. I had been given two pills to take, and sat down on the bed with a feeling of nervousness surrounding me. I got up pulled my curtain cross and sat back down..

Shit. Here I am. I have declared myself as 'mad' there is no going back now. I had an evening meal and then was offered crackers with butter and marmite to take to bed with me, I hid under the covers scoffing my face with the crackers so voraciously hungry that most of the crackers fell out of my mouth. I hadn't had a smoke this day and was feeling the itch for a smoke, just to take the edge of a little.

Then I heard the curtain pull back and I shot up out of bed. ''Hello'' the guy said. ''New here?'' ''Yeah'' I answered nervously. What did he want? then he walked towards me and a bolt of paranoia shocked my brain. He then lifted his hand and opened his palm to reveal three Small bits of hash. ''You smoke?'' ''Yes'' I answered. he gave me the three small grains of hash and offered me the advice that if I was to smoke on the ward, to

''use the toilet down the end of the corridor because they never check that one - but make sure you open the window''

I went to the toilet and made a small, 'one skin' smoke. I smoked it really quickly, for two reasons, mainly because I didn't want to get caught, secondly I hadn't had a smoke all day. I finished it chucked it down the toilet, and then shuffled down the corridor feeling a little more at ease with surroundings. This being said I also felt paranoid, and everyone on the corridor knew I had smoke, I was sure. They all looked at me with protruding eyes, all their eyes said, WE KNOW you have just had a smoke.

I got back to the dorm room and jumped into my bed.

The next thing it was morning. I went to see the nurses in the morning as I had been requested to the night before and they had to take some details from me ,weight height, etc.

At this point I was weighing in just under 6 stone. I had lost a lot of weight from not eating for so long and felt very weak. Then after breakfast, which was delicious, Jam on toast, weetabix and as much fruit as I could muster ( I stole loads and stashed it in my beside cabinet!)

I was so thankful, and had the first proper breakfast in about a year. Normally my breakfast consisted of choc chip cookies washed down with a cup of tea.

After breakfast I was taken to see a doctor, and they decided to move me to another ward - 'Branksome ward'

In comparison to ''Alumhurst ward'' life here seemed a lot slower and I quickly settled in. I was now being prescribed olanzapine (an anti psychotic) which made me feel like a zombie after taking it. Most of the people on the ward were on this drug and we all sat in the smoking room in our vegetated states staring into nothingness, dosed up on 'meds.'

A few days later, I was due to see my psychiatrist Dr John Stephens. He was a tall man, and resembled what one would say a doctor looked like. I remember thinking ''jeez he looks like the mad one'', with his hair all messed up. Again he took the time to listen to me and I cried so much. I had no idea of where I was. I think I have made a mistake. I don't need to be here!

The meeting with Dr Stephen's consisted of me and him and around four other staff members all looking at me, nodding their heads whenever I uttered a word. My nurse whose role it was to look after me was a nurse called Phil Jones. Phil was a softly spoken man whose large bunch of keys jangled and swung when he walked. He was the gatekeeper and I was the prisoner. I had to escape from here. After being on the ward for a couple of weeks, I had not smoked any weed, but the paranoia still lingered.

By this point, I had worked out the ward, who worked where and at what time. I planned my escape, when it was shift change at around 5 o clock just before dinner. My plan as to slowly take my stuff downstairs and hide it in a cleaning cupboard I had seen by the main entrance which was unlocked all the time. I would stash my belongings one by one in there, and then go down for dinner. Pick up some food and then walk a free man.

For the life of me, I cannot remember why I did not simply walk. (Hmm.. that's a lost memory)

Anyway, I remained and quickly became accustomed to life in the hospital the food the drugs and the way of life. I met some really interesting characters in there (which I won't mention their names) One, was a large man who had been in a gunner in the Falklands war. He was a gentle soul and troubled no one. Often, he would burst into tears for no apparent reason. Once he cried so much, he weed himself and all over the chair he was sitting in. (poor soul.)

Another woman - who quickly appeared to me as the centre of attention on the ward. she was quite tall and had long blonde hair. All the guys paid attention to her, following her with their eyes whilst heavily dosed up on drugs.for a number of weeks I was encouraged to take part in 'OT' (occupational therapy) which included woodwork, art, cooking. There was also a gym but I refused to go to it for a while. The woman who ran the OT side of things was so lovely. She was so pretty and I fancied her so much. she was the picture of complete rationality and sanity for me and this I loved. she bought a sense of reason to the ward and always was smiling when she came into work and the smoking lounge at 1o o clock in the morning.

She put up the different activities that we could do on the wall, but not many people made an effort. She asked me one day what I would like to do, and I stood there looking deep into her eyes. I fancied her and I wanted to prove to her that I was on 'her level', not psychotic like I had been diagnosed.

Psycho and Psychotic have bad connatations largely due to the media construction of what a 'psychotic' & 'psycho' is. Axe weilding, serial killing madmen. I was not this and nor were the rest of the 'psychotics' as far as I could muster anyway.

I started to get involved in the artwork which I really enjoyed. I started cutting out newspapers about stories of big brother. (Not the dumbass tv 'reality' show, the surveillance state in the UK)

I cut and pasted 'we are being watched, glued it to the centre of the paper and then drew images surrounding the dystopian future that my 'mental illness' had given me.

I personally think from reading Foucault's works on madness, how do we define what is mad and what is sane? I still believe to this day that what I foresaw was not me being ill, but seeing a snapshot of what the future holds for society. Admittedly, a lot of these visions were surrounded with hysteria and confusion, but it still makes a lot of sense to me now.

After a bit of a bust up with a senior charge nurse on the ward in the corridor (in which I cannot recollect what about) I ended up getting 'sectioned' level 2 - for 28 days. This meant I could not leave the ward without supervision, effectivly turning me into a prisoner. This made me even more angry and more desperate to run and never look back. I got so mad one day that I got taken to a secure unit, in which I was put in a small room with soft play things to take my anger out on. I needed to escape.

I had also been introduced to my CPN (community psychiatric
nurse) Ali Cinavas. She was a 'Brummie', who used to come and visit me each week. She had golden blonde hair and spoke in a way which I could not help but smile to. She made me feel comfortable and I felt I could tell her anything. She was my friend (albeit a notetaking friend) in which I quizzed her on, one week.

Phil Jones arranged benefits to be setup for me, and after a couple of weeks they came through, in which I had full control of the money given to me by the state. I had to ask for a permission slip stating how much I wanted to withdraw from the cash office downstairs, but other than that I had noone telling me what I could and couldnt do.

I was given £260 the first payment, which meant I could buy some cigarettes, and go down to the little shop by the reception.

My life was starting to make sense and as I said, I became quite accustomed to life here. I was allowed the space I needed to get myself back together. 'A new me' was being born.

One day in the smoking lounge, the guy who used to pace the corridor (stopping each 20 mins for a cigarette break) came in and stood in the centre of the room with both arms reaching out (like a jesus being crucified would be the way I would describe it)

And then he started being violently thrown around the room. This I can only describe as not physically possible without some outside force controlling him. After around half a minute of this happening, nurses rushed in, Pinned him to floor and then dragged him away screaming.

During my stay at St. Anns, I was constantly worried about being given ECT therapy (electro therapy) This kept me in fear and in a strange way, kept me on the straight and narrow.

After a week of 'good behavour' my section was taken away, meaning I could go out and go to the canford cliffs shops, wander the beautiful garden, and go down to the beach which was literally a few minutes walk throug the large garden. Life started to make a little more sense for by this point and I was still deeply influenced by the Hip Hop beats I was listening to. This was, as I mentioned already me, but being rebuilt.

I must at this point thank all the staff who aided my recovery and in effect made me into the person I am today. I was lost and they helped me find myself.

I stayed at St anns for around 2 and a half months and my mum visited me most days. She told me that she used to cry all the way home and felt so guilty to leave me there. she knew it was for the best. She used to cry often to against all odds by westlife, and she said it reminded her of me.

So Here I am, just standing there in the middle of a mental health ward, being rebuilt. I was realeased 2 and a half months later a different person, but still lacking those social skills and haunted by paranoia and anxiety. I moved to a place in Southbourne which was on the other side of town. It was very far from everything I knew, including my family and the few friends I had left. Most of the friends I had back in the day werent real friends though, they were just aquientences or, if you like - customers. I used to sell to them, but I used to hang around for a smoke with them as well.

The house in Southbourne, was a four bedroom house and my room was next to the kitchen. We shared a kitchen a bathroom which was always filthy. The bath plug hole was jammed up with hairs and had a stain around it which couldnt be removed, even if you scrubbed it really hard. I spent most of days and nights watching 'only fools and horses' on DVD and watching the snooker on the television. In the evenings I would go across the road to the chinese, which this in itself was a challenge. Even going across the road I thought someone was going to jump me. They didn't of course, but I was fearing everything around me. I would quickly walk back across the road to the house and panicked whilst I tried to unlock the front door. I quickly went back in to my room, and devoured the two spring rolls: which quickly became my regular meal whilst living here. Apart from the dvd and the snooker, I spent a lot of time listening to the noises of the house.

The guys that lived there I did not trust at all. They often smoked hash in the front room, and I was becoming increasingly tempted to have a smoke with them. They offered me on many occasions but I politely refused saying something along the lines of ';not reall in the mood' but thanks for asking' They respected me and did not push it on me. After a few weeks of staying in my room I felt so lonely. Del boys jokes and the snooker commentary wasnt enough for me. One night I went into the lounge where the guy was smoking a big hash spiff. ''fuck it'' I thought, it'll be ok. I just wanted to fit in and desperatly reached out for friendship. I smoked with the two of them that night and after a few tokes I was absolutely stoned. The mix of olanzapine and hash did me no good whatsoever.

This brought on a severe bout of paranoia and I made my excuses and left the lounge retiring to my room.I laid on the bed and saw the ceiling and the walls closing in on me. I rang my mum and confessed to what I had done.

I felt so guilty to my mum. I'm not sure why I did and just kept saying that I was so sorry. She consoled me and said that it was ok. I imagined that she would have been angry with me, but she wasnt she was simply just dissapointed I think.

I continued to live here, fighting my demons and watching the television day and night. I made a couple of brave trips on the bus into town where I bought hip hop albums and dvds to watch.
It was really difficult to live here, with the constant smell of hash in the air. I had to go. I said this to my CPN Ali and my mum and soon after this, they looked into moving me elsewhere nearer my mum and nearer the places I knew.

After applying for a few places, I got a room in a place called millennium house. It was much more friendly then the house in southbourne. It was staffed in the day, enabling me to speak to someone if I needed to. This was imperative to my struggle against my demons. I moved in millennium house - room 6. Soon after I moved in, I got a knock on the door from a man called Darren.

Darren was a peaceful guy and we quickly began to build a friendship. We found out that we both liked only fools and horses and we traded the ones we had between each other.

People came and left in millenium house. There was always new characters moving in. I also became close friends with a guy called Joe, who was a little older than me. Still to this day, we are still friends and he also like all of us continues to fight his demons. Joe was a real inspiration for me and he played the double bass. He really was into Jazz music, and often lent us cds that he really liked. For Christmas one year he bought me a video cassette of BILL HICKS. Joe was very much so at the forefront of my enlightenment I think. He opened the door to a world I KNEW existed during my period of illness. BILL HICKS was my hero and still is today. He was talking about things that I had previously thought was mad!

I continued to get benefits and was quickly rebuilding my life. the support workers at Millenium house helped me get a college course arranged, and I started studying nursing at Bournemouth and poole college. When I started this course, it was just simply something to do. It was really difficult to drag myself to college first of all and again was constantly fighting my demons.

One of my main inspirations during this time was my new girlfriend - Lisa, from Sweden. She was the reason for me to go to college each day. In a strange way she was my reward at the end of a difficult and long day.

The nursing course consisted of a few components: Anatomy and physiology, Psychology and Sociology. I found myself often smiling my way through the lectures and felt content having this knowledge and understanding of what was being taught. Towards the end of the course, I was told I could go to University after completion of the course.

Me? university? Never would of believed it if someone would have told me this 4 years previously. The staff at the colege were brilliant and helped us all fill out our ucas forms. I applied to go to 5 different universites: Bath, University of the west of England, Coventry, Plymouth and one in london that I can't remember the name of. I got accepted by 4 out of the 5 universities offered to me and ended up pouncing on the chance to go to Bristol UWE.

My life was beginning once again. I was going through another transition. For the first time in a long time, I was happy. The journey I had been on for the past five years had made me into the person I am today. I lived for many months with nothing.

I truly believe I revealed to myself the true nature of life. No material posessions mattered. Friends mattered. My health mattered. Life was to short to waste.

I was on a mission, and Bristol was soon to be in my sights. Nothing could stop me now.


End of part one. Thanks for reading this far. Part two to come shortly, 'Bristol and the revolution of my mind, ideas, beliefs and struggles'








UWESU Elections: Building a union that is more inclusive of all, rather than exclusive to a few

'''With the UWESU elections just around the corner (In March) I thought now would be a good time to launch a face book group. I will be running in the elections, however; as of now I won’t be saying which position I will be going for, or what my manifesto will contain. I will publish it here nearer the time.

If you have suggestions or questions please ask me on here! What do you think of the students union as it is now?

What I envisage is a union which is inclusive of all rather than simply being exclusive to a few.

With expenditure being cut ‘across the board’ at UWE, with the management issuing 15% - 20% cuts, this will and is severely damaging our education. With government funding also being cut for higher education institutions across the UK, now is the time to stand up and defend our education and the right to access it.

Therefore, it is imperative to have a student’s union ready to do this and put students interests first, before anyone else’s. We need a union which actively campaigns in the students interests.

In recent times we have seen courses cut, funding severely reduced in our students union. We must fight for our interests!

I mean look at the Students union building on Frenchay for example. It’s the same as it was back in the 1970’s! As the rest of the campus is developed the students’ union block is left untouched. WE NEED INVESTMENT - NOT CUTS!

To build a real sense of community in OUR students union we need a place which is inspirational and makes people actually want to be part of our students union. I have been to other student unions across the UK and in Europe and when students have good facilities, people get involved!

I would also suggest once people start to see their student union acting completely in their interest’s people will take part in their union.

Last year’s elections drew in 10% voters. Out of 30,000 students, only around 3000 people voted. It says a lot about the situation we are in right now.

What we must do is build a union which harnesses the talent we have across the student body. We have musicians, DJ’s, comedians etc who could make the union a place where people will want to go!

With the ‘selloff’ of st matts, we the students have had to accept the fact of going to ‘frenchay-colditz’ and losing such a wonderful campus. Students have made a concession coming over, now it is the university management’s turn to invest in the student experience of today!

It is wonderful that UWE is building a new super campus over the next 20 years. We were all asked to put our suggestions forward to what we would like to see and for example, one campaign that launched was the idea of a swimming pool! That’s great, I like swimming. In reality the student of today will not even be seeing a swimming pool being built, let alone get to use it.

We must push management to invest in the experience of students today, not just the ones in the future.

Anyway, that’s enough from me! Actions speak louder than words anyway.

Please take the time if you believe in the vision of making our student union a better place to invite all who you know at UWE. Only we can change it. I am ready to defend students interests over anything else.''

link here: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=468986330174&ref=ts

Saturday, 30 January 2010

Student union cuts VS Management salaries


Apologies for not posting in a while. Got snowed in. Not literally of course, but with the UK's devastating, unbelievable, atrocious, appalling, economically crippling, downright dangerous Gritting situation (Cheers Charlie Brooker - newswipe)

-I very nearly could have been. No, with essays looming etc, haven't gotten round to updating for a while. Please don't think I don't love you all x


WE WANT GRIT! BECAUSE WE NEED TO GO TO WORK! BECAUSE WHEN YOU DIE, YOU WILL WISH YOU WOULD HAVE WORKED MORE!

WE WANT GRIT! WE WANT GRIT!

Please excuse my sarcasm. I couldn't give a shit. Have fun ;)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anyway whats this post of my thoughts going to contain I hear you scream. Whats been happening Chalky that has made you take up the cyberpen and start writing again?

Well....

The inspiration for this post comes from a facebook discussion I have been having today about OUR student union, UWE and higher education more generally.


Basically, what was announced yesterday (Friday 29th January 2010) was that 'WESTWORLD' which is the sister publication to OUR student newspaper Western eye has had it's funding cut.



Supposedly, the print run for each issue of 'Westworld' costs in the region of £1400.


This decision to cut funding has been passed informing none of the student body hearing about the decision before. The writer/editor of this publication 'Westworld' in the process of finishing the latest issue.


UWE is one of the richest higher education institutions in the UK. As widely publicised, UWE are planning to expand the campus, in the next 20 years. This vision is costing 'UWE' 30 million pounds to carry out and build.

Above: A marketing illusion for UWE

The government plans to cut higher education funding.

The government is to cut university funding in England by a total of £398m for 2010-11 compared with this year, Business Secretary Lord Mandelson said.

At UWE, management have now issued a plan of cutting all expenditure 'across the board' by 15% - 20%.

These cuts are and will have an effect on how WE as students will receive our education.


So if the management are so insistent on making cuts (Jobs & financial) have the management at UWE decidedly taken a pay cut themselves? well no, of course not.


The average Vice chancellor in the UK average earnings as of 2008 were reported to be around the figure of 175,000 per year.


Come May 2009 this average has grown to 194,000 on average!


Sally Hunt, the UCU general Secretary in May 2009 said:

"These staff pay rises date from the middle of a three-year pay deal that we were told was at the brink of affordability. That vice-chancellors were pocketing close to twice the pay rise they begrudged staff at the time is extraordinary. It should not come as a surprise that staff are sometimes sceptical when their leaders ask for belts to be tightened. Nor should the government or universities be surprised that the public are outraged when university leaders call for increased fees and greater student debt."


The Prime minister currently earns slightly less than this average.


So how much does Steve West the current Vice chancellor at UWE earn a year I wonder?
Steve West (left) with John Derham The Secretary of State for Department of Innovation, University and Skills.

Well after doing a little bit of digging it seems that Steve is raking in a figure of around £220,000 a year!
-cor blimey guvnor! how many western eye's could be published a year with that?

That's £18,300 a month. It's £610 a day!
Alright for some hey?


So why the cuts? Why are fundamental parts of our students union being sliced and diced, cut and quartered?

As per usual, the ones that get hurt in these such situations are the ones 'lower down the food chain' and inevitably: us the students.

With UWE planning to close it's doors to more potential students, does this spell the end for 'widening participation?' I hope not.

Peter Lampl, a Philantropist said on the subject of widening participation:
"Despite the current economic constraints, if we are genuinely interested in boosting this country's shamefully low level of social mobility, we need to invest more, not less, in schemes like this.''

So, with talk on releasing the cap on tuition fees previously, this leaves us the students and potential students of the future in one hell of a dire situation.

It is time to defend our education, and our right to access it. Get ready.

The student union newspaper 'Western eye' is OUR way of communicating and making sure that OUR interests are being looked after. Accountability is the name of the game.

Last year, when I was writing for the western eye, I can remember that the average newspaper was around 46 pages. This year it has been significantly cut to around 32 pages. This newspaper now consists pretty much of 50% adverts (which help fund it) and 50% student content.

So much for the 'voice of students.' Well OK 50% student voice anyway.

We the students who keep the whole UWE machine ticking over pay £3200 in tuition fees per year. International students pay a staggering £9000 a year!

A fellow student of mine recently worked out we pay £15 per lecture per student. (on average)

Personally, I don't like thinking of my education in monetary terms but interesting hey?

So does this mean we have a say in these decisions? Well we should yes.

In recent years, UWE itself has gone through a process of 're branding' and vivid imagery and advertising campaigns.

Could the money spent on these such campaigns instead be spent on our education of today, and rather than painting the illusion that UWE is a really great place to study, instead be spent on ACTUALLY making it a great place to study?

This is also about UWESU democracy. It is also about transparency. It is also about being accountable. It is also about giving students a voice. How much of a voice we have in these decisions I would suggest is debatable.

These decisions to make cuts involved no discussion with anyone else, yet again. Let alone the student body. and we wonder why we only get 10% turnout at elections each year in our students union..

The SU and student union media does not belong to executive officers.

The students union belongs to STUDENTS and is supposed to be democratic.
...

Across the country, Vice Chancellors have seen an increase of 8% last year in salaries, and at the same time - arguing with the people who actually conduct the research and lecture us; Our lecturers receive around £35,000!

That's £2916 a month, £97 a day!
quite a lot less than the management pay scale hey?



The lecturing staff have seen a lowly 0.5% increase in pay - (which technically is a cut when you consider inflation and is taken into account)

I just find it funny really that UWE management mentions nothing of cutting their salaries. But when management cut pay, staff and courses because they say they can't afford it!
...


And to think I was told last year that the languages department was not financially viable? Something smells fishy around here...


It maybe difficult I agree - to negotiate with the management around them taking pay cuts. It's not such a controversial plan is it?

I just want to make sure that the money the university gets to educate us goes on things that help our education.

I think that is what other students would want, if they really knew what was going on around here..

I have to say though my time at UWE has not been all bad. I feel I have learnt a lot course wise, about myself and about the true nature of how the world works. Thank you to all that have helped me on this journey often referred to as life. You know who you are ;)

I am just tired of us being told cuts have to be made, when the management pay scale is so HIGH, when 30 million pound builds are being made and when consultancy fees are being paid to friends.
...

Its our money, our education!

I just want this nonsense to stop ;)

Education and learning. Learning and education. Goes hand in hand. But does profiteering fit into this equation? Why do we have to face cuts in our students union? Why are we not saying to the management WE NEED MORE MONEY?!

With the influx of new students from St Matt's as of next academic year, They through no fault of their own will have to move from St Matt's to Frenchay. We need more funding damn it, not cuts in our most fundamental part of our union - OUR VOICE!


Wednesday, 20 January 2010

Bankers bonuses... Haiti Appeal!


Remember the bankers? Remember the bonuses? Well nothing much changes, it's still business as usual for these crooks.

After the devastation that has hit Haiti, worldwide campaigns, governments, NGOs, appeals and individuals all around the world have done all they can to help the people in Haiti.

What have the banking cartel done so far with the bonuses I wonder?

This facebook group has been set up to pressure bankers into paying all or part of their undeserved bonuses to the Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund.

It's growing really rapidly, join it now and pressure the crooks to cough up the undeserved cash and help the people with Haiti instead of spending it on luxurious lifestyles or whatever they get up to these days.




Tuesday, 19 January 2010

Definition of an Internet troll


After the original explosion of the Internet in 1995, 'trolls' started moving away from more traditional 'soapboxes' and towards hiding behind the screen. The picture below is one of the earliest known paintings of what society thought trolls looked like, but with modern technological advances, we now know that trolls are just humans like the rest of us.


For those not in the know of what an 'Internet troll' is I thought I'd lay out a short introduction to what these horrid little creatures are. Horrid they maybe, it is not their fault. This is only my personal understanding of what and who they are, and why they do it. I write this also for all the lonely little trolls who spend countless hours trying to suck peoples emotions. I live in hope that the trolls will one day beat the horrible disease. Together with understanding and compassion we will.


Internet Trolls often hide behind false names or pseudonyms. Trolls will do this for many reasons. One of the reasons is to obviously withhold their true identities, so that they can publish and say whatever they like. Many Internet trolls find everyday social interactions difficult, so when on the Internet they feel that they are superior and unknowable. Many trolls will also hide behind names of their heroes, or someone they would like to be. Of course will always simply remain a troll.

Internet trolls prey on 'hot topics' debatable subjects and ones in which they can create uproar within a forum or group. Again, sadly for the trolls; as they find the 'REAL' world so hard to deal with, they find the Internet a place to 'let themselves go', a place that they can let all their hard to deal feelings out on the world. We must feel compassion for the trolls, as it is not their fault. They must be treated with compassion and understanding, so that they in turn can learn to understand how the world works as well. One hopes that the trolls may even return to some sort of balance in their lives, which allow them to fully function in society. Some do, some don't, but with our understanding, their chances of fitting in are much higher.

Internet trolls are attention seekers, stemming from childhood. Amongst many of the trolls that have been assessed by psychologists, one Key factor comes up in many of their personalities. 'Trolls'
often have low self esteem and feel the need to make outrageous outbursts. These are made to shock whoever is reading their comments. As mentioned already, the best measures you can take to prevent annoyance from these little sods is to simply ignore them. After a time, they will get bored and give up on their ways. Many analysts have compared trolls to maggots, wherein they try to bury under the skin to cause problems. Again these behaviours stem from their childhoods, where often they did not receive enough love and attention from their parents, families and peers.

Internet trolls will sometimes make threats. Sadly for trolls, because they often lead frustrated lives and how they choose to lead them, they sometimes 'project' these feelings of mistrust and hate onto others. Don't let them. More often than not, 'trolls' are actually really nice people in real life, however when online will often feel feelings of invincibility & superiority. In everyday life, many trolls are just ordinary people, the local grocer, the tescos employee or even your bank manager. Trolls are neglected in their everyday existences, so the Internet provides them an outlet to have a temporary, (yet false) sense of purpose.

Trolls are often very opinionated. Again, this is to do with what psychologists refer to in the field as 'internal opinion syndrome' What this means in layman's terms is trolls will often have opinions that they want to share with the world, but fear rejection or that people may ignore them or even dislike them for sharing it. Remember, always treat trolls with compassion, never argue back with them as they will often be very hard to deal with. the best way of dealing with them (including for them - the troll) is to ignore them and they will slowly come to the realisation that 'Internet trolling' gets them nowhere, in real life.The 'trolls' often have low self esteem and feel the need to make outrageous outbursts -which are made to shock whoever is reading their comments.

Finally, never feel that you are alone battling the trolls.
Trolls feed on people's emotions and need this to repair their own emotional wounds. Many people (sociologists believe this figure to be in the hundreds of thousands per hour) all round the world are dealing with annoyance from trolls. a poll in 2009 showed that 1 in 2 Internet users had dealings with a troll at some pint in their lives. Do not fear, there are people with expert knowledge which will help keep those trolls at bay. there is a freephone number if you are seeking assistance or advice which is 0800577021. All calls are confidential.

I write this advice piece on trolls & trolling in my capacity of: Understanding -Trolling PhD MA BA (HONS) I study and publish research on 'trolls' at the troll institute, NZ.

Friday, 15 January 2010

That Dirty, filthy, uninspiring thing called Money


Money doesn't inspire me. After being on this planet for 24 years, for some time I have become disillusioned with the stuff. Of course, everyone NEEDS money; in order to survive in this designer world.

I just find it does not make me any happier when I have it. All I need is my books, a pen and paper, food warmth, water, my friends - and I'm happy.

No really I am. The conquest for money does not interest me at all. What inspires me is the quest for knowledge, beauty, truth and justice. People inspire me as well. The tools i use on this quest are honesty, freedom, morality.

Is it just me? Often when I was younger, I'd say to my mum, 'it doesn't inspire me this chase for cash' - day in day out. She would say to me 'but everyone needs money'

The thing that worries me is the generation out on the prowl in the shopping centres all over the world. Blank, tired, uneasy faces - all in pursuit of more. and to get more, you need money.

'Mo money Mo problems' as Biggie Smalls once rapped.

Yes I understand that, I just value other things ahead of the paper stuff.

I am so sick of the banality. So tired of mediocrity. I've had enough of watching people hiding behind fake plastic smiles all playing roles in a system that doesn't give a shit about us.

What I propose is a world based on honesty. a system in which we are self reliant. A world in which we are the government. a world with no borders. a world where people are not wasted and neither are resources.

Today when I stopped at the shop, as I walked past the cash machine a women had left some cash in the dispenser, I went over to it to take it out and then asked the woman on the next cash machine what the other woman looked like. She said she went that way and then she came back saying 'she was so forgetful'.

The other woman said 'your lucky he didn't run the other way with your money'

I didn't want to run with that filthy dirty cash. It's really shit to lose money, especially when you have nothing.

What I want is a world where we all are valued and live our lives to our fullest: mentally, physically, spiritually. A holistic approach to this thing we call life.

We are the people that can change the world we live in. It involves a revolution of the mind and a shift in priorities and our ideas. It involves a change of consciousness and an understanding to what it means to be truly happy.

''Because when you die, you'll wish you had worked more'' - Danny Shine from 'everything is ok videos'

Thursday, 14 January 2010

Conservative billboard subvertising competition now open!

With the UK election pantomime just around the corner, I hope no-one has forgotten how we have been ripped off by the people who supposedly represent us! Came across this great group this week.

I have come across a group that is building quite nicely on facebook - 'none of the above movement' This group is campaigning for ballot papers to also have a box stating 'none of the above'

That will get people voting, once they know they don't simply have to vote for sleaze.

Facebook group for this one here:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Also, Some of you may have seen the political filth around your town or city recently. Yes I'm talking about the
CONservative billboard campaign. Same old shit rah rah rah...

I'm David Cameron and what we need is change..

Yes OK then David if you say so. What a change of system, or do you just mean a change of suits?

In reality is it not going to be business as usual? the rich get richer and the poor poorer? -Especially under a Conservative government!

I think there is a growing movement of discontented individuals who see through this shit. Who see the election fraud for what it is. A charade. To give us the illusion that we have freedom of choice, blue or red, green or Lib Dem.

It is my personal belief that what we live under in the UK is actually corporate fascism. When I say this I mean that the corporations and big business actually wield a hell of a lot of power over government and their policies. therefore, THEY ARE the government.

Cycling home today I nearly fell off my bike to see such puerile vomit on such a grand scale.

blah blah blah as I said. Here he is: David 'airbrush' Cameron.

Who designed this poster? It is screaming to be subvertised, look at all that space!

The Multi national corporations run things. Not the politicians.

PEOPLE POWER.

If your not so keen to whip out the spray cans and markers just yet: check out:

http://mydavidcameron.com/

- A website which allows you to tweak Camerons campaigns poster from the comfort of your own home. It also has some great retouched ones as well.

From
today, the competition begins. If you see one of these vile airbrushed billboards, why not subvertise the filth and send it to my email? Get your pens and markers at the ready!

Here's one to get you thinking.



Good luck, competition ends in the summer of 2010.

Best entry will be posted on the blog for all to see in its magnificent glory!

Wednesday, 13 January 2010

**blogpost update**

**Blog post error**

Apologies from CC here. I seem to have misunderstood someone in my recent blogpost entitled: ‘’uwe and me, karl marx bar and escape from colditz’’

the Karl Marx bar was the old name of the Escape Bar - not Red. Red Bar was in fact called the Venue and before that plain old "Common Room". It became ‘’The Escape’’ in 1990. Supposedly, signs for Karl Marx were being taken down in the summer of '90.

about the St Matts bar, it was either the Mandela or the Steve Biko Bar. This will be updated once I hear confirmation.

** CC **

A spotlight on: Dom Passfield, the state of the union & conflict of interests.


^Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. Above: Dominic Passfield


Dom Passfield was OUR student union REPRESENTATIVE for two years, after being re elected after his first stint at being SRC president.

So what does Dominic do now? well he is still a student, meaning that he gets to sit in on student union meetings.

After typing his name on the UWE telephone directory via the UWE website, it came up with this:

Last name First name Title Faculty/Service Tel No.
PASSFIELDDOMINICMRVice-Chancellor's Office0117 32 82806


Hmm.. That's interesting. Some may call that a conflict of interest. Some may even go as far as to say that the university and the students union has become one in the same thing.

The students union should be an independent body to
fully represent students interests. the question that needs to be raised is: was this possible if Dom works for the university now? what does this highlight?

After doing some research into the Newby-gate scandal, I came across an article in the Times higher education supplement which Dom Passfield,
student representative president, said:

"The student union believe the changes that Sir Howard Newby has implemented at UWE have been to the benefit of the students. The student union and the university will continue to work together to improve the student experience at UWE." (ahem..)

A person I spoke to earlier on today (in reference to Dom's statement to the press above) commented that:

''This was during Dom's first few days and he has remarked that he didn't feel equipped to be dealing with the media about it that soon after starting..

I remember that we decided to keep quite quiet about it to ensure that we had a better chance of getting a Sabb on the recruitment panel for the next one.''

If Dom didn't feel comfortable commenting on Howard newby, then why say anything at all? surely ''no comment'' would have sufficed?

Also, towards the end of the last academic year: The languages department had been cut with immediate effect. there was uproar from staff, unions and students alike, also from academics from around the world incensed with the decisions made, and how they were taken by management. Staff were informed of job cuts 5 days before the supposed decisions were implemented. It has now come to light that Dominic Passfield KNEW about these decisions 2 months before anyone else. It has been suggested by one of his colleagues at the time that:

''He (Dominic Passfield) knew about it months before but didn't share the news with the rest of us (Other student representatives) so that we could organise about it. He took his confidentiality agreement with the board of governors a little too seriously...''

During the protests over the languages department closures, we were busy organising and spreading the word about what had been decided and what the proposed cuts would mean to staff, students and prospective students from all around the world. I went to 'RED BAR' in which a student union staff meeting was taking place, where I saw Dominic Passfield through the window. He was propping up the bar and I made a beeline towards him.

I started to talk with Dom about the proposed cuts. He quite adamantly agreed with the decisions, stating that it was not 'cost effective' to continue with the languages department. By this point Katy Phillips had come across to join the conversation and I proceeded to ask:

''So what are we as the student union going to do practically about these decisions?''

Both of their answers were: ''well nothing. the decision taken by management was a good one. It does not make business sense to keep it open and is making a loss (profit wise) to UWE.''

I stated to Dom that ''It was his role to defend students interests before anyone or anything else'' He said ''that is what I do - represent the student body''

So where was Dom when the protest was taking place? I don't know. He certainly wasn't there for the people who would be affected by these decisions - that's for sure.

Then Nerys Neath (membership services manager)
came across and took me to one side and spoke to me as a human being. (which was nice- thanks Nerys) The student union were having a brainstorming session and she gave me a post it note to add to the ever increasing wall of post it notes - with ideas on what a student union should be about etc.

I left Red bar and continued to flyer, campaign and spread the word to save the languages department.

The decision to cut the languages department was taken by management during the final weeks of the academic year, meaning that there were very few students around to contest such decisions.

Earlier today, I spoke to Katy Philips on the telephone to discuss the 'conflicts of interests' which seem to plague and continue to occur within our students union, the board of governors and the university and management. She commented on the meetings with the board of governors and said:

''What is said in governors meetings is confidential." she added further that "it was a tough decision to keep quiet whilst also remaining transparent to the student body''

To give credit to Katy though, at least she has the time to speak to the students she represents! :)

Personally, If you were a REPRESENTATIVE of students, would you not say sod confidentiality with the board of governors If you heard something that would adversely affect students lives and/or education? I'm not saying that the role entails criticizing and effectively opposing management made decisions all of the time. Of course not. Just, when it will effect students!

Again, these conflict of interest seem apparent.

Currently, the HLSS departments are 'under review' and the 'transition' to move students from st Matt's to Colditz (whoops - I mean Frenchay) campus. the university released a statement outlining the plans for the proposed move for half the students currently on st Matt's for Sept 2010. However we have an idea of what 'under review' has meant in previous years don't we?

It's time to be aware of whats going on, under the surface. Keep questioning! everything may not be what it seems...

With talks of government cuts for higher education, it may be time to sit up, take note and fight to defend your education!





Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Bristol: full of signs and symbols

This is a interesting sign I saw on the third floor of the council house a few months ago.


''The CORPORATION accepts no responsibility for articles left in this cloakroom''

So is OUR council actually a corporation? who knows made me smile though when I saw this.

Then I got booted out with a verbal warning from security. Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil.