Today I have had two experiences branded as ‘have your say’ events. One was at the RSAMD about curriculum reform, and one was in Bridgeton about the Clyde Gateway regeneration project. At both of these events, especially the former, there didn’t seem much opportunity to have your say – there was a lot more of being talked to. At the RSAMD event, I had my hand up for an entire round of questioning and didn’t manage to say what I wanted to, which I felt would be useful and very different to the negative comments coming up around learning to be ‘tech-savvy’. Someone had just done a presentation on the importance of learning how to be active in the online community, and was met with comments like “I don’t want voice or acting lessons being dropped for computer lessons – that not what I came here to learn about.” I wanted to make the comment that ICT was already integrated into our course and why that has been a good thing, but they ran out of time before they could get round to me. There wasn’t actually a lot of debate going on and people didn’t seem to understand each other much. Perhaps this understanding could have been overcome and a proper identification and discussion of the issues could have taken place, but there was not enough time. The main reason for this was that a lot of time was taken up by a presentation by a couple of actors who began by telling us that they didn’t really understand what curriculum reform was, and then spent 20 minutes singing the praises of the acting course and basically demanding more of what they are already getting, and more continuity through the years of certain parts of their training. This was not useful towards any kind of reform. They had not critically analyzed what it is they are actually doing on their course, and discovered how it could be made better to prepare them for the world outside (apart from suggesting more time with professional film crews) and could not even separate the meaning of the terms ‘education’ and ‘training’ when asked to comment on them, instead very arrogantly declaring that there was no difference. It was more important for them to seem like they knew what they were talking about (when they didn’t) than to really engage with what they were being asked. Surely acquiring some of the skills that were obviously lacking here and are extremely valuable in life in general could be a good place to start with a reformation of their curriculum.
I feel I should apologise. I’m being very harsh, and I’m sure I will be sorry for writing these things in the near future and feel sorry for my own arrogance, but I am not very often outspokenly critical about things like this, for fear of arrogance (a constant burden of mine), of seeming misinformed, or in-compassionate – so I thought I’d give it a go, and we’ll see how I feel differently about it later.
It was very frustrating to be in this situation, where things weren’t really being discussed very constructively, and what was most frustrating for me was that I didn’t know quite how to respond – how to move the discussion to somewhere more constructive. I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, but at least I noticed that there was something wrong, and perhaps why I could not react much was because there was too much wrong – one wonders where to start, and then the time runs out.
How can we make sure these sessions are more constructive?
How can we develop an understanding between each other so that we can discuss properly?
Practice makes perfect I’m sure, but there were many there who had had much more experience with these kind of discussion events who didn’t know quite what to say either. This must mean there is something wrong with the form the discussion took. The way it was introduced, or other things that were going on in the room. Perhaps the assumptions and self importance present in the opening presentation scared a lot of us into silence because we didn’t want to sound like they did. Perhaps it was that we just couldn’t articulate what we were thinking because it would be so difficult for it not to sound like an attack on the presenters’ beliefs. It is worrying that we must walk on eggshells so much – another reason why I have critisised the thing in the way that I have, even though I am aware it might sound like nothing more than an attack, but I hope it might be constructive, I can’t really tell at present.
The latter experience was very strange. All day today there has been a drop in ‘have your say’ session being held at Bridgeton cross where I am currently living. It functions as part of a public consultation about the regeneration of the Bridgeton area – a part of East Glasgow with high unemployment, a lack of decent amenities and big social issues. When I walked into the room where this event was being held, I was welcomed very enthusiastically by a man in a women dressed in smart suits and fake smiles. One wall displayed one of the proposed projects. Most of it was taken up by architectural drawings and ‘artists impressions’ of what the development would look like once finished – a glorified office block with bright red fascias and vast expanses of steel and glass, surrounded by perfectly clean, landscaped grounds and pathways and affluent looking human figures, walking to business lunches and such one would presume. The whole time I felt like their sole purpose was not to consult with me, but to convince me that they cared about the local community and we could trust them that they’ve come up with the right idea with vacuous rhetoric. I was assured however that the locals had been involved in coming up with some of the plans – I didn’t feel assured. These people had to get there plans through and get paid. They had to get it past us. That’s how it actually felt. It felt like a salesman was trying to convince me of something. I had to work quite hard to get in my thoughts on what would be most valuable into the conversation, and I worry that somebody less confident or skilled in discursive tactics might not have got a chance. Furthermore, most of my suggestions were challenged – there was always something they had planned already that they thought was better.
These experiences have made me think about how I approach people I want to involve in the No Mean Streets project. My vested interest in the project’s success however is of a different nature I think to the interests behind the development companies funding the Clyde Gateway regeneration project, or whoever seems to be suppressing radicalism at the RSAMD. It is however important to remember that whatever my expectations are for the project, that whilst engaging others in it – for instance asking people what they think should be in our publication – I must be wary of slipping into similar tactics that might oppress or close down the engagement in any way, by asking question that are too leading for example. Of course after the fact of these moments of engagement we have artistic freedom with what we have been given, but with a integrity and respect to those who have contributed.
