Some people may or may not know that I spent over nine years working as a civil servant. I started as an usher in my local crown court before working my way up through the grades and divisions 'til I was safely ensconced in middle management in the headquarters of the Ministry of Justice. In those nine years, I did a lot, from dealing with nervous jurors to speech writing for ministers and a lot in between.
The thing I am most proud of, that meant the most to me, was simply an invitation. I was working in the Diversity Department of the Ministry of Justice and was part of a team working to put together an event for both students and policy makers about hate crime. There had been a lot of media attention on race and disability hate crimes and there was a lot of research going on in this field. At one of the first planning meetings, we were discussing which organisations to invite; disability groups, representatives from different religions - so many charities and research groups.
I wanted the Sophie Lancaster Foundation involved. Sophie was killed because she was different. Because she was a goth. Robert Maltby was attacked and left severely injured because he was different. Because he was a goth.
I was the office goth.
I was the office metalhead.
I was the office weirdo.
I was damn good at my job.
"I want the Sophie Lancaster Foundation there" was my main contribution to that meeting. "The what?" was the reply. I explained about the attacks on Sophie and Robert, the work that Sophie's mum Sylvia was doing with the foundation, the impact of the attacks and the foundation on the alternative community and the judge's sentencing, in which he invoked hate crime legislation as part of the sentences given. I showed them my S.O.P.H.I.E. wristband.
My management team were impressed. I was able to extend an invitation to Sylvia Lancaster and the foundation to attend and have a stand, to be able to interact with the students and policy makers from across the justice system.
On the day of the event, I was running round like a blue-arsed fly - these things don't organise themselves! And even suited and booted, I was still recognisably the resident alternative. I didn't realise at the time, but Sylvia had spotted me running around (smart black suit, platform boots, long black hair and just enough black eyeliner to sink a small ship) and had already decided she wanted to chat to me. I think she'd worked out that I was behind the invitation! We managed to find a few minutes to talk and she was lovely, but under her lovely warmth was a steel core. Sylvia Lancaster is a strong woman who has taken the greatest tragedy that can befall a parent and turned it into a force for good. Absolutely amazing woman.
The day ran past in a blur for me. I got a thank you email from the Sophie Lancaster Foundation after, I still supported them and pimped out about them on my facebook and twitter feeds. It wasn't until August 2012 that I realised I had something to be proud of.
I was at the Bloodstock festival as a DJ. Bloodstock officially supports the Sophie Lancaster Foundation - indeed their second stage is called the Sophie Stage. And the foundation has a stall in the main festival area. As I walked past the stand, I saw Sylvia standing there. I was no longer a civil servant at this point, and my hair was a bright blue, so I didn't think Sylvia would recognise or even remember me. Still, I thought it would be polite to stop and say hello.
So I did. Sylvia not only remembered me, but said that initial invitation had been a pivotal point for her work. She explained that she had met so many policy makers and been invited onto several panels where she could demonstrate the effects of hate crimes on the alternative community, that she had made a difference in national criminal justice policy making because I had insisted on an invite for the foundation.
Because I spoke up in a meeting.
The thing I am most proud of, that meant the most to me, was simply an invitation. I was working in the Diversity Department of the Ministry of Justice and was part of a team working to put together an event for both students and policy makers about hate crime. There had been a lot of media attention on race and disability hate crimes and there was a lot of research going on in this field. At one of the first planning meetings, we were discussing which organisations to invite; disability groups, representatives from different religions - so many charities and research groups.
I wanted the Sophie Lancaster Foundation involved. Sophie was killed because she was different. Because she was a goth. Robert Maltby was attacked and left severely injured because he was different. Because he was a goth.
I was the office goth.
I was the office metalhead.
I was the office weirdo.
I was damn good at my job.
"I want the Sophie Lancaster Foundation there" was my main contribution to that meeting. "The what?" was the reply. I explained about the attacks on Sophie and Robert, the work that Sophie's mum Sylvia was doing with the foundation, the impact of the attacks and the foundation on the alternative community and the judge's sentencing, in which he invoked hate crime legislation as part of the sentences given. I showed them my S.O.P.H.I.E. wristband.
My management team were impressed. I was able to extend an invitation to Sylvia Lancaster and the foundation to attend and have a stand, to be able to interact with the students and policy makers from across the justice system.
On the day of the event, I was running round like a blue-arsed fly - these things don't organise themselves! And even suited and booted, I was still recognisably the resident alternative. I didn't realise at the time, but Sylvia had spotted me running around (smart black suit, platform boots, long black hair and just enough black eyeliner to sink a small ship) and had already decided she wanted to chat to me. I think she'd worked out that I was behind the invitation! We managed to find a few minutes to talk and she was lovely, but under her lovely warmth was a steel core. Sylvia Lancaster is a strong woman who has taken the greatest tragedy that can befall a parent and turned it into a force for good. Absolutely amazing woman.
The day ran past in a blur for me. I got a thank you email from the Sophie Lancaster Foundation after, I still supported them and pimped out about them on my facebook and twitter feeds. It wasn't until August 2012 that I realised I had something to be proud of.
I was at the Bloodstock festival as a DJ. Bloodstock officially supports the Sophie Lancaster Foundation - indeed their second stage is called the Sophie Stage. And the foundation has a stall in the main festival area. As I walked past the stand, I saw Sylvia standing there. I was no longer a civil servant at this point, and my hair was a bright blue, so I didn't think Sylvia would recognise or even remember me. Still, I thought it would be polite to stop and say hello.
So I did. Sylvia not only remembered me, but said that initial invitation had been a pivotal point for her work. She explained that she had met so many policy makers and been invited onto several panels where she could demonstrate the effects of hate crimes on the alternative community, that she had made a difference in national criminal justice policy making because I had insisted on an invite for the foundation.
Because I spoke up in a meeting.
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