Love your neighbour as thyself?

I was compelled to ask this question after I watched 3 women push past a pregnant women and step over her pushchair this morning, as they rushed to get onto the train. I literally couldn't believe my eyes. Their actions were redundant as they were now in the way of the same women with the pushchair and had to move to make space. Normally I see these things and silently fume but this morning I just couldn't do it. “What is the point of your actions” I asked looking at the women involved in their eyes. “You can see that she has a pushchair and is pregnant and you’re pushing past her like she doesn’t exist. I’m actually disgusted”. I then asked the lady how she manages every morning to which she shrugged and then said thank you to me. I could feel my blood boiling. I was more upset than she was. Her shrug implied that what I witnessed was nothing new and her attitude was one of acceptance whilst I carried the anger.

How many women and men with pushchairs go through this each morning? How many pregnant women standing feel ignored? Although times have changed there is still a silent expectation that if there is one seat left, a man should offer this to a nearby woman before sitting down if she refuses, out of courtesy. However this gender courtesy doesn’t transcend to compassionate courtesy when it comes to pregnant standing women. I have seen both men and women do the “Let me keep my head down and pretend that I haven’t seen her” action. 

With no space to hold my newspaper or scroll through my phone, I was left with my thoughts which rather than serving as a distraction, fuelled my anger as I thought about other instances I had seen. I instantly thought of Barbados. Not for the beautiful sunshine, beaches or food but the nature of the people. There is a strong sense of community and a pregnant lady on a bus would be inundated with offers for a seat. Elderly people are looked after and even if a young person carrying lots of bags was standing, the nearest person sitting down would be holding their bags for them. I have seen this also in Jamaica and Malta. I haven’t travelled the world but I’m sure there are other places and areas in London that have a strong sense community (Please feel free to reveal your observations in the comment box).

It appears society as a whole needs an injection of kindness, compassion and solidarity. It should not matter whether you have children or not to be able to identify with a pregnant lady or mother or father pushing a pushchair, shouldn’t we all as human beings have the desire to care?  “Care” is buzzword at the moment as the government are looking into the lack of care of patients and the elderly, who are in the care of those are paid to care. An inquiry by the Equality and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) An inquiry by the Equality and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) found a number of elderly people were being let down by care home services. The report highlighted experiences of physical abuse, neglect of personal care, patronising or ignoring older people, financial abuse and theft, lack of control and flexibility and lack of personal sensitivity and privacy. 

Whilst on the report they made recommendations on how to improve the services it doesn't go deep enough because some people in these roles don’t care. In fact it is not the uniform that makes you care, it is the type of person that you are that is imperative to a caring role. The uniform in my eyes acts as identification and reveals they are represented by a professional body and therefore governed by an ethical framework. I think a 12 week introduction course in counselling is a fantastic method to use in all helping professions The 3 core-conditions of the Person-Centred Approach (PCA) Empathy, Unconditional Positive Regard and Congruence is a way of being tool that should be included in the foundation of all public and private sectors, as it focuses on how to provide a caring non bias service whilst promoting the importance of self-awareness, reflection and personal responsibility.

Last week Friday on the train home I sat next to an 88 year old lady. It was about 11pm and I did wonder why she was out so late, but that's none of my business as older people can have an active life too. At London Bridge a lady got on and  through shear lack of awareness allowed her bag to knock into the face of this lady. I had to prod her and tell her to move her bag. The older lady said thank you. If I hadn't said anything I wondered if she would have? She got of at the same stop as me and as I watched her, I became concerned about her safety. So I asked her if she had far to go and how she was getting home, "I'm fine love, I'm getting a cab". I told her to take care and she replied " I wish you could look after me all the time".  I kid you not when I say those words ripped my heart out, as for me it expressed her experience in lack of care, kindness and support. That night those words plagued me and those who follow me on twitter will know I had a sleepless night. 

Manners and compassion are acts of kindness that come for free, yet somewhere down the road this way of being is becoming rare, so much so that there is a “Good deed Feed” section in The Metro (Page 15) that serves as a reminder that kind people exist and acts of kindness does occur. I actually smile while reading it whilst acknowledging this should be standard behaviour. Society as a collective needs to re-learn how to be compassionate and kind to each other.

This is meant to be a Christian country but is it really?  How many people "love your neighbour as thyself?" Maybe this is the next question for The Big Questions What do you think Nicky Campbell?

© Lisa Bent 2012

Dating in the 21st Century: Part 2

I never thought there would be a sequel to Dating in the 21st Century but here we are...

After work last night I walked to Charing Cross station as I usually do to catch my train home. Before I boarded the 18:06 train I popped into WH Smith to pick up the latest copy of Black Hair Magazine  as I was dying to see my  “Weaveover” feature on page 58/59. Yes this is a blatant plug. The Weave and I, a review of my experience wearing weave will be posted next month.

Anyway back to the story...

So after passing 3 carriages, I finally gave up hope of finding a seat and entered the next carriage. I chose to perch myself on those pointless side seats that have a slight slant, meaning sitting is not an option and so its more like a bum rest that also happens to partially take the weight of your feet, yeah you know the ones.  

As usual my head was in The Evening Standard and I only looked up to find out what station the train was at. I noticed I was at London Bridge but that wasn't the only thing. I recognised the man who got on the train. I stood up from the fake seat to get a better look through the sea of people. Could it be? Was it who I thought it was? OH MY GOD...it was... MR B!

I leaned back in disbelief and then my head scrabbled for ideas of what to do next. Heck there was only one thing to do. I picked up my bag and made my way over to him. The amount of times I said “Excuse me” in order get pass people, felt like a flipping eternity and then... I was there. His head was down, he didn’t see me so I tapped his arm and smiled. He looked up, did a double take and then took the earphones out of his ears. The look, that particular look got me nervous. His look told me I was in the doghouse. I wasn’t surprised and amongst my shock I was happy because here was my chance to finally explain. It was just annoying that it had to happen on what felt like the quietest train in the world.

I spoke, he listened. It felt like forever as I relayed what happened in all its embarrassing glory. Intertwined within the story was the frequent use of “Oh my God” and “This is nuts". I wouldn’t be surprised if I said both words over 30 times in the space of 10 minutes because this whole scenario has been and is nuts. What if I hadn’t stopped at WH Smith? What if I didn’t get on that particular carriage? This can only be fate right?

Mr B thought I had deleted him and so when the message “Lisa Bent is no longer a contact would you like to re-add?” popped up when he tried to message me, he had no interest because in his mind I deleted him. I challenged him to say he could have re-added me to find out why I supposedly deleted him. His response was “Why? I just thought you deleted me, thats that.”  I fully get it, however if the reverse happened I would have re-added him, because as long as I knew I hadn’t done anything to warrant being deleted than well, I haven’t done anything wrong. Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, ain’t that the truth.

He believed me. I was happy he believed me, even though it would have been just as easy for him not to. That doghouse look disappeared and the one that I recognised within the pretty eyes had returned. We spoke and the levels of last nights random meeting just seemed to get even more surreal.

I, he, we, both found each other again without looking, though I have learnt my lesson.

I will never farce with my phone before a date

I will never relay soley on a bb pin

This I am afraid is where the story ends. Early this morning I received a message from him saying "Loved the blog" in reference to my first posting. "What happened to Mr A? and what is going to happen with Mr B, now that you have reconnected?"followed. It was only a matter of time before he found my blog and to be fair I would have told him anyway. 

Will there be a part 3,4,5 or even 6? I don’t know, but if there is that will be between me and Mr B :-)

~THE END~

Related Posts: 
1. Dating in the 21st Century: Part 1
2.The Big Conversations: Review
3.Catch me Cupid: Review

© Lisa Bent 2011