London and the Joys of Research

It struck me the other day how most days I read (or in the case of theatre, hear) words written by people who've died. I know that sounds macabre. In some ways it could be considered unsettling: death will come for me too and all that jazz. But it never unsettles me. I never really think about it. Probably because I read and hear these words through a modern lens. I interpret them in the light of my present. Time constantly refreshes literature and drama. It's part of what makes it so great.

But new media - film, sound, the internet - hasn't been with us for so long and I have to say, this week, my ease with the past has been rocked a bit. I've been writing about London a fair bit lately. It's cropped up in a few poems and I've been thinking about my relationship with the city. My relationship with London is completely different to my relationships with other cities. I've been flitting in and out of it for years. I've lived north of the river, south of the river - sometimes briefly and sometimes for long stretches. I probably know London better than anywhere else and yet it always surprises me. I completely understand why London: The Biography by Peter Ackroyd is a biography. The place feels like a person.

Anyway, when researching a couple of poems, I stumbled across a website where sound recordings of London have been uploaded. I became hooked on the historical ones. Click here if you want to listen. The one that got to me the most was the Hampstead Heath fair in 1939. I used to live by the Heath, I've been to that fair. And as I listened to it, my brother pointed out most people in the recording were probably dead. It was a bit unnerving, especially as I could imagine them on the fields, where I was with my son not too long back, feeding ducks. It hammered home the idea of unity of place quite a bit and why it's so useful - that experiences happen in the same place in different times is pretty powerful.

And of course there's this which has been doing the rounds recently on Facebook. I simply love it, yet also find it unsettling: to see people living their lives who are no longer here.

Research. Sometimes I absolutely adore it.

The Gender Divide: Housework

My 11-month-old son likes dusting. This is a new thing. We were at my parents' last week and each day he grabbed a doily (I know, I didn't think anyone had them anymore either - I'm not even sure where this one came from) and he dusted the coffee table. He then dusted the television set. Then he dusted the freeview box. And once he dusted my mother. And he didn't just casually dust either. He would not move on until he was convinced what he was dusting was clean. He likes to help and he is thorough. This is something I wish to encourage.

Pic credit: the Italia voice

So, when an email landed in my inbox this week listing toys that can aid development at this age, I was quite chuffed to see it's now a good idea to buy mini household items to make him feel as if he's helping. So off I go to amazon and find...

Yes, you've guessed it - a pink dustpan and brush set with the word 'girls' in the title.

To be honest, I'm so used to seeing this kind of stuff now, I can't even be bothered to get angry. If I did, buying clothes for him would put me on blood pressure tablets. But, just to reiterate, I don't see why this toy can't be unisex. Much as I loathe the pink for girls/blue for boys separation, I found a blue dustpan and brush set and was relieved, even if it didn't have 'boys' in the title. Why? Because the Wollstonecraft I've read has stayed with me and I think anything that will get young boys into the habit of helping out from an early age is a good thing. I don't want my son to ever consider housework solely as a woman's job. And, in terms of shaping the future, the marketing of the pink dustpan and brush set is a pretty big deal. The lot of women really needs to improve.

Apparently eight out 10 married women currently do more household chores than their partner while just one in 10 married men does an equal amount of cleaning and washing as his wife. Speculation about the high divorce rate never seems to take this into account. It's not just a trivial bit of data. I cannot tell you the number of times friends have moaned to me about their partners, sometimes on the verge of tears. And I'll never forget a conversation I overheard at the gym once between two 60-something women, both planning to file for divorce because their husbands had retired, yet they were still doing the bulk of the work at home.

However, it may not just be laziness. In her book Half A Wife, Gaby Hinsliff talks about how, for women, housework tends to be emotionally loaded in a way which isn't true for men. For men, the washing-up needs doing. For women, the washing-up needs doing because the house needs to be a home. Doing the washing-up isn't cleaning dishes. It's an act of love for the family. Hence the frustration when the man doesn't exhibit the same love. There is some truth in this I think. Also, I think we're looking at a failure of feminism to recognise that maintaining a home is of itself a job which takes up time. Who's meant to do this stuff if no one's in? If women are out at work too, then surely men and women both need to do less hours to cover all bases so we don't all have nervous breakdowns? I read a brilliant forum post on Mumsnet this week where a woman said how she wanted to scream each time someone told her to leave the housework. Until tomorrow? Until the housework fairy came? She had a point.

Our generation of women has it tough I think. We're on the frontline of cuts and we're not helped by feeble paternity leave and an awful childcare situation. Wollstonecraft believed that the home was a place of education - where future generations could be shaped in terms of how they view gender and that this could have enormous consequences. Which is why I'm all for doily-dusting. And never buying a toy from the firm marketing the pink dustpan and brush.

Meanwhile, Elsewhere on Blogger...

I've previously blogged about Save the Children and the charity's campaign to promote breastfeeding and to urge Nestle and Danone to look at their practises and how their vigorous promotion of formula in developing countries is costing lives. I really admire Save the Children and the work its members do - heaps of information about the charity can be found on its website here. So when I secured a place in the Great North Run, I wanted to use it to help raise funds.

If you are a bit of a running geek and fancy a read, I've decided to blog about my training in a bid to make sure I stick at it. My running blog is here if you fancy subscribing or bookmarking it. If you want to throw a few pennies my way, then my sponsorship page is here.

End of mini-advert.  I shall now return to things theatrical, poetical and political. Albeit with aching limbs.

Reporting

I'm a big fan of evidence-based medicine. I love it. It saves me a fortune. I can blissfully disregard homeopathy as bunkum without feeling the need to ever spend money on it. My husband's A&E tales mean I will never see an osteopath or chiropractor. Physiotherapy? Every time. Acupuncture? Up to a point. But cupping? Chakras? Until there's evidence, I'd rather make myself feel better with a cup of tea and slice of cake.

I tend to devour health stories. This is a worrying obsession that's hit in my 30s. If it wasn't for the fact I get my fix from the BMJ, I'd be the target audience for This Morning or even The Daily Mail. But two stories in the mainstream media lately have really got my goat.

1. That co-sleeping can lead to an increased risk of cot death
2. That too little iodine in pregnancy leads to a lesser IQ in babies.

Actually, it's not the stories per se, the studies, but the way those studies have been reported that's driven me a little crazy. In both cases, journalists have sensationalised the studies ever so slightly.

Take this BBC report into cot death.

After watching it, I looked at the report. It took ages to find. (It's here if you want to read it.) The scientist interviewed at the top of the BBC package has it in a nutshell - sleeping with newborns is less safe than not. It's all that study tells us. And when you look at the actual figures in the report, it's not really so straightforward. You'd want to read it yourself before making up your mind. But a slightly grey conclusion doesn't make a headline. And for some reason - presumably to feed an angle from a news editor I don't actually understand - the reporter singles out breastfeeding. The report doesn't. Until I read it, I presumed breastfeeding led to a higher cot-death risk than formula feeding. There's no evidence for this whatsoever.

Why does this matter? (Aside from the need for basic journalistic accuracy?) Audience. I'm the audience for this report. I'm part of a neurotic social group - sleep-deprived mothers. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I was eight months pregnant. I regularly get by on four or five hours. Middle-aged woman think it's fair game to come up to me in GP surgeries and on buses and quote Julian of Norwich at me to make me feel better. I should probably wear make-up more often. Anyhow, it's people like me who are going to click on these stories because they're relevant to us. And when you spend most of your time as a juggling zombie, you really could do without the additional stress of thinking you may have done something to risk the life of your child.

Again, the way the iodine story was reported in many quarters was extreme. Immediately I panicked because I drank organic milk when pregnant. And then I looked at the data and remembered all I could keep down for months was cheese and crackers and rice crispies. Organic milk may contain less iodine but I drank it by the gallon. The data itself reassured me.

I'm becoming desperate to see a bit of non-sensationalist health reporting when it comes to stories about mothers and babies. I know editors often think a definitive conclusion will secure a bigger audience but securing the definitive in research isn't that easy. And if you stick 'parent' or 'baby' in a headline, parents will read on. I know I might be asking for old-school journalism here (I still miss the parliamentary pages) but I could do without the additional panic and guilt these stories create. It seems really harsh on a group of people who are just trying to do their best. And, without making it easy to find the source material, really unfair.  

Edinburgh Calling

Long Distance Affair, a Skype-based theatre project I've written about here and here, could soon be coming to the UK.

PopUP Theatrics wants to bring the internet theatrical phenomenon, where an actor in one part of the world performs to an audience member in another, to the Edinburgh Fringe this year. My piece Dark Frequencies is one of the plays that could be unleashed on the public.

I've had such a great time working on this piece (possibly the most bonkers thing I've ever written) and with this company. I'm thrilled the project may be coming over.

But - as ever - things are dependent on cash. But, because of the funding model, page views can also help a bit. If you fancy having a look at some information to help fund the show, then click here. But please do watch the video below.