Libraries Gave Us Power

Hello Dear Reader

Usually, I like to be more considered about the written word, but in time honoured tradition I find myself balls deep in a Bank Holiday DIY project and so this is coming to you while I literally wait for paint to dry.

Sometimes though, being too considered means we risk not saying what we really feel when we should in fact just say it. A few minutes ago, I picked up my phone and opened notorious Hell App X and the first thing that confronted me was a thread where somebody had gathered all their faculties and thought the best way to spend a Bank Holiday Sunday was to write a long diatribe about how the departure boards at a UK train station not only had the train times but a visual of someone signing BSL in the corner of the board, and that this was just another example of how the country was going to the dogs because of Wokery.

When someone else attempted to point out that some deaf people actually might not know how to read and move straight to sign language first, Departure Boards Man lost his shit. He did not pause to think that the world is not the same for everybody - especially not for the disabled - he just lost his shit.

I cannot abide cruelty, especially the cruelty that is born of ignorance. Why on earth would something that does nothing but make life easier for everybody be woke? Literally no sane human could be offended by making life more straightforward for all of us. Literally nobody’s rights are impinged by making sure that all disabilities are taken into account. Literally nobody.

And yet here we are. After years of poor governance, some incredibly bizarre policy directives and a policing of language that would, on occasion, make even Orwell wince, we have given birth to a faction of society who now think that making sure disabled people don’t miss their trains is woke.

Now, you might think this is just a little thing. But I would argue that it is one of many current canaries in the coal mine. A lot of people are angry - a lot of them not without cause, I might add - but picking on each other is not the solution. I don’t know what the solution is; what worries me more is that I don’t think those we entrust to find the answers are any the wiser either.

Perhaps historians of the future will map the sustained closure of local libraries onto our descent into full blown idiocracy but this would imply that something prevents humanity from falling into an abyss of ignorance entirely of our own making. One tries to stay optimistic.

Language, though, remains a battleground. An article ran in Politico magazine this week about a memo doing the rounds amongst politicians describing words they should cut from their vocabulary because only now, after their complete and utter failure to understand how everyday rational people think and speak, and through this failure delivered the world into a new normal of instability governed by egomaniacs - only now did they realise that everyday people - who hold useful jobs like building shit or caring for sick people or laying roads or teaching small humans how to read or emptying the bins while being asked to take a 25% pay cut because the political class view what are essentially first responders in public health as problems on a balance sheet - yes, where was I - only now has an entire political class woken up and realised that maybe patronising the people who keep everything going is actually a very bad idea. A bad idea for all of us, regardless of one’s political leanings.

Do not fuck with words. Do not presume that just because somebody doesn’t have a degree in sociology or PPE they might be stupid.

A thing my grandmother used to do when I was a kid that I thought at best quaint, at worst cringe: if she dropped a book, she would pick it up and kiss it. It didn’t matter whether it was Danielle Steel or The Bible. All books were treasure.

My grandmother, unlike her mother and some of her siblings, could read and write, in both English and Hindi. She did not take this for granted, and she did not let me either. The first thing I have always done whenever I have moved to a new area is to get a library card.

Perhaps this is why that tweet about sign language in train stations upset me so much. The poignancy of someone pointing out that it’s much harder for a deaf person to read - because how can you explain phonetics to someone who has never heard sound and might never hear sound? - and the cruelty of that dismissive response.

Life is hard. Now imagine a life where you cannot escape into a book.

It is no accident then that I chose A Design for Life as my cover for my Welsh shows. The power of that first line knocked me out when I first heard it in 1996, and still sends a shiver down my spine today. I’ve written before about my great big love affair with Wales, and just how important my Welsh Godfather was in my life, especially my creative life. Like my Grandmother, he taught me to worship words like my life depended on them.

What is it you have in your waters there, Wales? Something’s going on. Your way with words is so deeply bound in the emanicipation of people, everywhere. So very Welsh of you, giving us beautiful poetry, amazing bands like Manic Street Preachers, a National Heath Service. Has any other other small nation done quite so much for its neighbours?

Cardiff you have done me proud and sold out my show at Acapela ages ago. If you missed out on tickets, there are still some available for my show down the road in Newport. Cardigan people, hopefully you have received an email letting you know that the show has been moved to November 26th due to a logistical issue but tickets remain valid and if you aren’t able to make the new date you are of course able to get a refund.

In the meantime, I wish you all a wonderful end of summer.

With love as ever,

Nerina xxxx