DROWN OUT THE NOISE!

SAM RENKE

COLUMNIST

Our favourite teacher-turnedactress, Sam Renke, brings you her take on life and the colourful experiences it throws her way.

DROWN OUT THE NOISE!

I’m pretty sure that you all follow my every move emphatically online and receive daily notifications on your phone of my whereabouts, but for those of you who perhaps don’t, (I mean If you aren’t you are totally missing out on loads of naked cat content), you may not be aware that I will be leaving London in the next year or so. The plan is to return home and renovate our family bungalow. Long story short, when my father suddenly passed away at a very young age, our mortgage was paid off so my mum, my sister and I sold our family semidetached and bought a bungalow that was predominantly purchased for my ever-increasing access requirements. I actually lived there for a few years during my teaching degree and career. Ironically, I hated every moment. For me, back then it was in my mind, too rural, and although the bungalow, which is spacious, features four bedrooms, and two bathrooms, it’s detached and backs onto a paleaceous park. I cursed it all because the calm - even the birds and their morning songs - irritated the heck out of me. It drove me to move to London. It undoubtedly worked in my favour, because the London chapter of my life has in many ways been fruitful, but now, almost eleven years on and a decade older (and perhaps wiser), I crave those chuffing birds and the support of my family and childhood friends.

However, my desire to be at one with nature is not the point of me writing this column. It’s actually about the challenge I’m having to drown out the noise of other people’s opinions and concerns. It’s been rather intriguing when I’ve shared my exciting news with many of my friends, colleagues, neighbours and family members. Bar a handful of whom arguably know me, the real me, the overwhelming majority have projected their own fears and concerns about my move on to me. People have said: “Are you worried you won’t find work?”; “Won’t you lose your independence?”; “Won’t you be bored?”; “Why on earth would you ever want to leave London, everything is here!”; “Won’t your career be over?” I’ve asked myself these exact questions over the years, but it’s occurred to me that I’ve been led to believe that success, happiness, and joy came from being in the capital, something I think society has been fed over the years. I moved to London because I believed this lie and generations before me fell into this falseness too. That’s why London is such a melting pot of different people from all over, all of whom have a dream and a desire to succeed.

In recent years, we’ve seen a shift condemning gentrification; we see large broadcasters and businesses moving to Manchester and Leeds - take Media City for example. The pandemic has absolutely afforded us all to re-evaluate our working and living habits with the introduction and acceptance of hybrid working, so why am I receiving so little support? Why so much concern? Because I’m super excited about my next chapter! I guess I’m writing this because I don’t want anyone to ever feel pressured by others to question or worry about what, in their heart, they feel is right. I don’t want anyone to project their own insecurities and concerns onto someone. Instead, approach someone’s decision with kindness and support. I also wanted to write this column as a reminder that disabled people can be successful no matter their circumstances. When I left Lancashire to come to London, I had the same questions: “won’t you be lonely, what if you have quit teaching and won’t find work?”

I felt pressure from the ableist world to move away from my friends and family and support network, and yes, I am talking from a place of privilege, a place of success, but by gosh the sacrifice I made this past decade to my physical and mental health has been enormous and I question regularly if it was worth it.

The bottom line is that we need to learn to drown out the noise of others. Their concerns may be valid and come from a place of genuine concern, but they aren’t you and they aren’t living your life.