We criticize because we care
The solitude of the morning can be refreshing. As a father of three young children, my house is usually engulfed in pleasant chaos; the contagious enthusiasm of new experiences and outbursts of pleasure at little things I had long ago forgotten about, like the unlimited enjoyments of pillow fights, playing with Lego or building a den.
But at 6.30am, I can quietly stare at the darkness outside or the rain lashing down against the windows. As a family man you don’t get too many moments to yourself. The morning is my time to contemplate, although the looming pressures of getting everyone ready for the day, whilst still leaving on time to avoid the worst traffic, often make it a rushed exercise. Hitting the switch on the kettle, is probably my first conscious act in the morning, a testimony to my adaptation to ‘Englishness’. My cup of tea will be drunk with a dash of Jersey milk or it won’t be consumed at all.
I dreamt in English last night and quite often flash my lights at cars coming out of the green lanes, awaiting their chance to turn into one of Jersey’s main roads. When friends ask me how to get to my house, I describe the surrounding area: “It’s by that pub on the corner, second road to the right, after a granite cottage with a white fence.” Who needs an address here? Like all of you, I feel a slight discomfort when googling something Jersey and then having to deal with New Jersey instead. I go to farm-shops and beaches and join in on conversations about the waterfront and how much nicer it could have been. And finally, my wife’s from good old Jersey farming stock, raised on Royals and bean crocs.
How’s all of that for integration?
Who would have thought this little rock sticking out of the sea, would ever become my home? I guess that goes for many people here. Many nationalities reside on this island, through chance encounters, work or the familiar: “I came here on holiday and ending up staying.” There’s something that sticks. And although many local youngsters probably can’t wait to set foot into the wider world, others cherish the confinement of the rock. After all, seas can both be barriers and carriers for the aspiring traveller. Being in the heart of Europe, but not able to fly or sail when the weather goes mad, can be a liberating feeling, strangely enough.
All of us have our stories, our reasons for settling on this island’s shores. Of course, sometimes we miss home, our families, our peculiar traditions or even just speaking our own language. We worry about our own parents and family members, while we do our best to keep them connected to ourselves and our rapidly developing children. Part of our disposable incomes is spent nourishing that connection, on flights, holidays, or sometimes on slightly exaggerated birthday presents for our nephews and nieces.
Worldwide, there are 232 million of us and the number is ever growing. We’ve led numerous lives and our loyalties are conflicted. A part of us will always think of elsewhere, considering whether we’ll go back one day. We sometimes hate the place we live, but only because we project on it the things we miss from back home. More often, we happily entwine our heritage with yours, increasing the depth and richness this island has to offer.
It is important for the vitality and health of a place to encourage the perspective of newcomers or even outsiders. Fresh eyes often pierce through established truths, providing valuable new insights. In fact, it was the incorporation of ‘foreign’ customs and ideas that gave the Roman Empire its lasting resilience. Similarly, the Ottomans and the British were well aware that to yield authority overseas, it is important to open yourself up to local input.
So what about criticism? I’ve always learnt you evolve by taking on board constructive criticism, even though at first you might feel sensitive or defensive; your gut reaction is to snarl back and reject what’s being said. As a young football player, the criticism of the coach could sometimes be quite demoralizing, you’d worked so hard, but he was constantly on at you. Then he explained that the only reason he was so harsh, was that he expected things to improve quickly, he had high hopes and saw the potential. I’ve learnt this lesson a few times in my life; strength doesn’t derive from leaning back, being all satisfied and shielding yourself off from outside interference. On the contrary, the strongest, fastest evolvers are those who adapt quickly, learn from others and are humble and eager to challenge their own perceptions.
It is one of the lessons of the Jersey Care Inquiry as well. Self-serving cliques rot and wounds fester at the expense of those on the receiving end. ‘Insiders’ who question things, are branded as traitors, dismissed for ‘rocking the boat’, while outsiders are ridiculed for even daring to ask questions.
C. Wright Mills once said “People with advantages are loathe to believe that they just happen to be people with advantages. They come readily to define themselves as inherently worthy of what they possess; they come to believe themselves ‘naturally’ elite; and, in fact, to imagine their possessions and their privileges as natural extensions of their own elite selves.”
Jersey, being geographically isolated, runs this risk quite naturally and I have witnessed it in various areas. People are protective, sometimes even paranoid; criticism is sometimes perceived as an attack on the community. As if criticizing the finance industry for some of the harm it causes overseas is in some way an attack on Jersey itself?! Even myself, just a regular guy with an opinion, often receives this kind of response. Even though I consider this island my home and love it in all different ways, my participation in the political process still leads to uneasiness with some people. Campaigning for refugees has occasionally provoked responses along the lines of: “Why don’t you go to Syria and sort things out there?” or “If you don’t like the way things are run, go back to Holland…” I mean, someone must be missing the point. My criticism, as that of many others, is an act of love more than anything, a determination to contribute to that continuous process of improvement of which we can all be a part.
Broadly speaking, this is an important point to make. Contrary to what Thatcher and her political heirs would have us believe, there is such a thing as society. We all have a role to play. For me and the other contributors to Nine By Five Media, this is about questioning the powers that be and clawing back the idea that society is a public space rather than the personal property of a few privileged people. In this, we serve the public interest. But the public debate very quickly assumes a personal character on this island, often inspired by some mistaken reflex to ‘defend’ Jersey from ‘outside’ attacks. There is no real culture of debate, as positions are promptly equated with personality, sapping arguments from any real content. This is mirrored in our political structures. Perhaps political differences are never really fleshed out in the odd structures of the Jersey States, where politics are indeed represented by individuals rather than organisations? Would we benefit from more diversity in our politics, educational facilities, our local media or our cultural institutions?
Free, democratic societies thrive when its foundations are continually scrutinized, questioned and compared to elsewhere. The continuous overturning of established wisdoms is in fact one of the cornerstones of scientific and social progress, the absence of which could well undermine the values we all hold so dear.
A lack of scrutiny or even the procedures to question both the status quo as well as the establishment, leads to the rise of false prophets, who channel the frustrations of society towards hatred, anger and sometimes even self-destruction. Some of the charlatans of our modern age make up in confidence what they lack in ability, as the disastrous first few months of the Trump-presidency has shown us. In Jersey, some of those charlatans are lining up to run for the elections next year. They run on personal tickets, smiling at the public, while mobilizing their longing for community around exclusive identities of ethnicity, culture or nationality, which they present as eternal and non-changing.
That certainly is a worrying thought, but Nine by Five will play its part to scrutinize, criticise and question. The brilliant Israeli journalist Amira Hass once defined her job as the obligation to ‘monitor the centres of power.’ Everyone who loves this island will no doubt agree; we have a busy year ahead.
@bramerius
