Stepping into the future - Day 2

Day 2

Thunderbird 2 is International Rescue's heavy equipment transporter. The 
craft's main pilot is Virgil Tracy. It appears in all but one episode of the Thunderbirds  
TV series (The Imposters being the exception) as well as every movie, 
making it one of the most iconic Thunderbirds' machines.

By way of a reminder, the theme for this year's Advent Blogs is "Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives". Please contact me if you would like to submit a post for later in the series.

Today's post was written in 2014 and was crafted by a man with whom I have had the privilege of working with and whose career I have watched rise with admiration and delight. He is doing so much to shape and influence the world of work (and the people within it) for the better. He is David D'Souza, Membership Director at the CIPD. He has been a wonderful colleague and is a valued friend. If it wasn't for Twitter we would never have met and my life would certainly be the poorer. He is a popular and well known voice, in work related and HR communities, (both on and off line); David is bright, passionate, values-driven, knowledgeable, funny, loyal, challenging and keen to encourage positive change (in individuals, organisations and society). He was the brains behind both Books of Blogs and hence many bloggers now can state in all honesty that they are published authors and that their book(s) made it to number 1 on Amazon. 

If you don't yet, you should follow him on Twitter via @dds180 and read his blog. He will make you smile, frequently surprise you and usually encourage you to think. I am indebted to him on many levels - the top image (International Rescue that can go to great depths and lengths to see that the right things occur) is very apt. I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank him for his support and encouragement (not just to me but also to many of the readers of this post).

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I've always been absorbed by the possibilities of what might have been. All of the realities that didn't come to pass.

I can't remember the first time I heard about The Butterfly Effect, but I do recall from an early age understanding how mistaken people were to say about football matches 'we would have scored three if we'd put those chances away'.

Because logic dictates that if you had scored the first of those chances then everything would have changed. Everybody would have returned to the centre circle and the patterns, behaviours, mentalities and choices that evolved would be completely different to what happened in the first reality. The romantic comedy Sliding Doors, featuring Gwyneth Paltrow (before she became odd) and John Hannah (before he was in a position to turn down films like Sliding Doors) featured this pattern of thought to its conclusion. What would happen to your day if just one small facet of it changed? In the film it was the main protagonist missing a train that led to the change in her life - in real life we are always just making trains or just missing them. Our days fundamentally change based on those events.

John Hannah and Gwyneth Paltrow in "Sliding Doors"

Unless you travel via Southern Rail in which case you spend most days watching departure boards giving you information on fresh delays...

This never-ending schism of possible realities manifests itself in similar ways with our careers, with our relationships and with every business. The impact of small things often dictates the path of the bigger things. My daughter is a notoriously bad sleeper. If she had slept better on just one night a few years ago then maybe my wife and I wouldn't have cracked and decided we couldn't survive without being nearer family. In which case we wouldn't have moved to the South East. Maybe I'd still be working and living in Yorkshire. And if I was still living in Yorkshire then I wouldn't be writing this blog about having moved to the South East. I probably wouldn't even be writing, I certainly wouldn't know the people that I know now. My life would be poorer for it - I assume. My life would certainly be different for it. That's all I can really know. 

It's A Wonderful Life remains my favourite film and my company was named after Clarence, one of the characters in it. Simon Heath is a person I'm lucky to call a friend and he created a wonderful logo for me based on Clarence that I never got around to using...I wouldn't have met Simon if my daughter was a better sleeper. That's how life works.

The film centres on the impact of a man by an incident outside of his control. The only thing he can control is his reaction to the event, but the beauty of the film is the gradual realisation of how much a difference to other people one person can make. Our worlds are shaped by the people around us. Social media allows for even more random collisions, but make no mistake that our interconnectedness is what determines our lives and always has been. This isn't new.

I was lucky enough to be Best Man at a friend's wedding a few years ago, It's A Wonderful Life happens to be his favourite film too and we now have a ritual of finding a way to watch it with each other every year. He is a far better person than I would ever hope to be and one of those who goes through life constantly making the difference for others. I read out the following quote from the film at his wedding as part of my speech - "Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?". What we don't tend to appreciate is that our lives are influenced not just by those closest to us, but by a network more complex and intertwined than we could imagine.    

When I was travelling to this year's CIPD conference I got talking to the lady opposite me on the train. I don't cope very well in an environment without stimulus and the very best type of stimulus is conversation, so if you are ever unfortunate enough to sit near me on public transport then please expect a conversation. The story of the mystery train woman was a wonderful 'sliding doors' story. She has been working in a special needs school for 7 years. After qualifying as a teacher she had taken a few years out and then found it very hard to get a job in a school. I hadn't realised how many applications there are for each teaching role - it was a sobering experience listening to her describe her job hunt. It is a tough market. Eventually she had give up on a permanent role and settled into supply teaching, but disliked the routine and the lack of certainty it brought. 

One day a teacher at a school on the other side of the city called in sick (sliding doors moment...). The request to get up at short notice and travel to the other side of the city on a rainy day was the final straw that triggered a decision. That decision was to call agencies and say that any kind of longer term contract work would be acceptable. She just wanted a permanent home.  One of the agencies had a role starting immediately. 


Nursery School, Henri Jules Jean Geoffroy, 1898

So this experienced and qualified teacher started work as a Junior IT Support technician covering for maternity leave. Whilst pushing around a trolley full of laptops and freely admitting she knew nothing about IT the teacher got to know the rest of the staff. When the first permanent vacancy (non IT related...) came up she got the job. She is still there now. 

Every career and every life is made up of little decisions. Every decision is the result of the events that shaped the thinking and feeling behind it.

A wise person once said you regret the decisions that you didn't make, but in reality we can never understand how different our parallel lives would have been. We can't change the past, but we can always change how we step into the future. I love the fact that I met someone on a train (thanks to Virgin for allocating that seat) - who has been supporting children who really need support for over 7 years.

I love that this came about because she decided to pretend to be an IT Technician. She decided to do that because she didn't like getting out of bed at short notice on a rainy day. That decision came about because someone she never met was sick - in some ways the most incidental person in the story is the most important trigger for all that went after. I hope that person was sick because they had consumed too much champagne and strawberries having the night of their life. They deserve it. 

Life is rich, unpredictable and full of stories that we never hear. I hope you get to make some great stories this year - I hope I get to hear some of them.

Merry Christmas and I hope you have the best New Year that is possible.

Thank you for Being a Friend - Andrew Gold

An Indian Love Story - Day 2

Day 2 (Saturday 2nd December 2017)

Two hands are required to pull a Christmas cracker. Tom Smith of London
invented crackers in 1847, they were a development of his bon-bon sweets
sold in twists of paper and for quite a while what we call crackers were called
"Bangs of Expectation", bon-bons or cosaques, but the name cracker stuck because of t
he noise they make. Crackers usually contain a small gift a joke and a paper crown or hat - 
the wearing of festive hats dates back to Roman Saturnalia celebrations.

The first weekend of Advent and I am sure that you have a lot to do. It is amazing how the days rush by at the start of the festive period. I'm off to my first official Christmas lunch today - escorting my mother and sister to the British Legion's annual event in Somerset. Every year for the past 17 years my sister has dedicated a fortnight in late October/early November to standing in her local shopping precinct selling poppies on behalf of the Legion. Invariably she manages to raise more funds than the other local poppy sellers. Despite having her own problems, she is proud to be doing her bit to support others and making their lives easier. I think she is amazing.

Today's piece is written by David Head. David combines sound commercial nouse with an empathy for his fellow men and is a highly respected executive coach and mentor. Many years ago, longer than either of us probably want to acknowledge, we were colleagues and I learned much from David. For a long time before the sector became the lynchpin of most organisations, David was a leading name in Technology recruitment. Many a CIO owes their career success to David's advice and judgement, even now he specialises in supporting people through periods of change and career transition. About five years ago David decided to move down a slightly different branch in his own career and qualified as a coach. Since 2013 he has worked for the award winning, London-based business performance and leadership consultancy, Accelerating Experience, as an executive coach and mentor. David for many years has been a keen sportsman (tennis and golf) and is also well read and an erudite writer - you would probably enjoy his articles posted on LinkedIn. You can follow him on Twitter - his handle is @DavidAHead2 - and, as you might surmise from his piece below, he is a loving family man. 

David's piece is an amazing snapshot into history and we are privileged that he has chosen to share it here.

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I am, and always have been curious about people’s lives, the choices they make and how these come to shape them.  This year I decided to research and write a family history.  As a father of three children I would like to do my best to preserve what is known of my family, before it slips into the sands of time.

I have learned of some very interesting and colourful characters, including a Great Aunt, Margaret, who led an extraordinary life. We have much of Margaret’s correspondence in letter form from these years and therefore know quite a lot about it. My sister is currently putting it into publishable format and I would like to share some of it with you today, both because it is interesting social history, and because it has resonance with the theme of Darkness and light.

Indian postage stamp from 1938

Margaret’s parents (my great Grandparents) were philanthropic sorts whose lives were shaped by the First World War.  After fighting on the western Front in WW1 my great grandfather Edward became a vegetarian pacifist, utterly opposed to violence and war. 

Early PPU poster prompted by the horrors of WWI

The influence of her parents would certainly have shaped Margaret and in 1938 she travelled alone to India to join her future husband George, to work with the poor for the Peace Pledge Union (PPU).  It was an experience which was to shape and define both of their lives.

PPU Youth Section in 1920s

Margaret headed off to India in 1938 just as the dark clouds of war were becoming ever more ominous.  On her journey she wrote;

‘The news sounds disturbing from Europe and I feel that the powers that be are precipitating a disaster. There is trouble everywhere…neither side will get anything but disaster’

Elsewhere her tone is lighter and rather like a backpacker today she describes the scenery on her journey in vivid detail.

‘It was marvellous going down the Suez Canal. There was desert each side and Arabia was quite lifeless looking. There were several interesting sights on the Egyptian side and the Suez Canal hospital was very Eastern looking, with Palm trees all around and people in weird black robes and men in Night gowns.’

Painting by Heribert Schroepfer of a ship travelling along the Suez Canal in the 1930s

In the 1950’s my Dad would fight in the Suez ‘war’ which in truth was a complete farce. I sometimes reflect that he would have seen similar scenery to Margaret back in 1938.

When she arrived in India she spent some time staying on a Swedish missionary hospital, although her cause was more about saving lives than saving souls. Her reflection on the missionaries and their work was quite telling.

‘The Swedish missionaries with whom I am staying are very sweet people but place too much stress on ‘converting souls to Christ’. I must say that the Christians they’ve ‘converted’ look more miserable than the others, which shouldn’t be.'

Elsewhere again the tone is lighter.

‘We visited a little village..the birds and flowers are beautiful . The people, or Gonds (original Indians I am told) are childlike and simple, but also very charming. They gave Barbara and I 12 baby tomatoes as a gift, which we peeled and ate before them to show our appreciation.’

But Margaret was there to help the poor and the sick and other entries give an insight into some of the suffering she encountered during these years. In one village she reports;

‘One baby was almost blind, others had sores, fever and other dreadful things.  One girl had blackwater fever.  Her urine was black and she was in an awful state. They (the adults I presume) spend their money on toddy and opium.’

Margaret later went on to work with Gandhi and lived on his Ashram during the 1940’s. He said that he regarded her as a daughter and had a nickname for her which was Kamala Bai, Sanskrit for Lotus Flower.  In Hindi the lotus is a symbol of beauty, fertility and all that is good in life.

By now Margaret was a trained midwife and worked with the Gond people to help them to understand the importance of hygiene in childbirth, as well as supporting Gandhi and his people in other work with the poor.  She later helped them during the painful process of partition - specifically helping women and children who got caught up in the chaos of the time.

"Muria Gond girls of Bastar wearing solid silver necklaces and many strings
of glass beads; their saris are invariably white." 1940 Photo from
Christoph von Fürer-Haimendorf book Tribes of India: The Struggle for Survival.

Her letters refer to Gandhi as a friend and spiritual leader although much of their correspondence was matter of fact, perhaps reflecting the pared back, simple life they chose to live. In one telling passage she did however praise Gandhi for his religious tolerance;

‘Gandhi has qualities Christians should possess themselves.  They (Gandhians) use the best of all religions to base their lives upon.  Gandhi is a Hindu, but the “Sermon on the Mount” and the commandments to love god with all one’s self and ones neighbour as oneself are all wrapped up in his philosophy of life together with the best of the Koran and ideas from famous thinkers.’

If Margaret was quite matter of fact in her correspondence about Gandhi (who was known for being distant from his own wife and family), the reverse was true when she describes her husband George, who was a fellow philanthropist in India.

‘All I ask is that I may prove to be a worthy wife… things and people who don’t demand much of one, one easily forgets..one must love the highest when one sees it’

It is interesting that the language becomes more formal, almost deferential when she describes her admiration for him. My best guess is that this is a reflection of the times, as well as her great love.

George worked himself to exhaustion looking after the poor, building them sanitation and farming with them. Margaret describes his decline in great detail in her correspondence.  This, from a trip to the Friends' Mission in Pashmari, gives a lasting sense of her kindness and spirit.

‘George isn’t well so he’s come up here too.  He is sleeping and resting most of the time.  I am glad he is able to sleep now.  This is a simply lovely spot in the hills of central provinces. Caves, great high, huge rocks, trees bursting into fresh green leaves.  Pools of crystal clear water right away down in the depths away from anybody..’

Sadly he became very ill and eventually died of fever. Margaret was heavily pregnant by now and you can feel the pain in her correspondence.

‘I feel like a bird without a wing..he was a great inspiration and although the responsibility is tremendous, it will be a great comfort to have our baby as a life companion and try to see how well I can serve India and bring up George’s baby to be the best he can be.’

In a letter to her Mother (my Great Grandmother) she wrote;

‘I’m trying to be calm now. I was fairly calm until he died and then I gave way for 3 or 4 hours.  But it’s hard.  Death is so final in one sense of the word never another chance. He was a grand man – he knew no limits – his generosity, courage and love all selfless, were beyond compare – I’m proud of him; proud of being his wife and shall be just as proud to be the mother of his child and the carrier on of his work.  He was a darling but didn’t know it. He was true as steel and clear as crystal “He being dead, yet speaketh”.

P.S. He wants no mourning.  He once said, so I wore my prettiest sari to say goodbye for the present to him who I loved best of all, and am wearing it now.  Please write and comfort me.’

Four months after George died, Margaret caught Pneumonia and her baby daughter was stillborn. She recovered but I can only imagine how painful this double blow would have been, in a land torn apart by sorrow and division.

Against all expectations, Margaret stayed in India and continued her vocation, working with Gandhi and later Lady Mountbatten during the partition. She set up a training school, at Gandhi’s behest, for pupil Midwifes for the lower casts of ‘Wadia’ people.  She eventually returned back to her home in Dorset in the UK and we know little of her life there, save for the fact that she died at the age of 48 as a result of Liver cancer. She never drank alcohol or smoked, was a strict vegetarian like her father and appeared to live a faultless, altruistic life.

I find the fortitude and sheer goodness she showed through her life’s work to be inspirational. Molly Tandy, a friend from her time in India, quoted Margaret in her epitaph speech thus;

‘My own belief is there is an inner light in us all and that people are given hands and hearts and minds to express the love of God in the world around’

Margaret certainly lived her life that way and she leaves me with a sense of light and hope rather than its opposite.  

What stands out most from her letters is the love she had for the Indian people, her own family, and particularly for George. 

I have attached two photographs of Margaret, who appears on the left hand side of both pictures, the first taken before her departure to India, 

the 2^nd at Itarsi Hospital in 1939. 

There is also a picture of George playing Cricket in happier times.

Dr Bill Tandy, who worked with Margaret in India and looked after her when she was dying, described her as 

‘one of the finest and most courageous women that I have known’

I cannot imagine a more fitting epitaph.