NOUS 7 - The Work Issue by NOUS

mind cult

issue

pathic th

for

work

The Wo r k I s s u e

in k

personal struggle, social identity & dreams

NOUS No. 7 Summer • 2016 £8 €10 $12 team

trident

press

Editorial & Art Direction Lisa Lorenz Associate Editors George Odysseos Liv D’Cruz Saul Bush Proofreading George Odysseos Thomas Walker Logistics Thomas Walker

Cover Image Benedikt Luft Words Ami Nash Angus Stewart Cathy Bryant Danny P. Barbare David Subacchi Ellen Denton Emily Oldfield Fabiyas M V Frazer Tudor MacDonald Gaynor Pettitt Holly Magill Ingri House J. J. Steinfeld Jake Duff Jeff Morgan John Laue Josh Davies LindaAnn Lo Schiavo Liv D’Cruz Mantz Yorke Marija Biljan Maz Dublé Melinda Brasher Sarah Werner Saul Bush Stacy Murison Thomas Tudoux Illustration Alessandra Genualdo Antonella Trovarelli Atelier McClane Camille Smithwick Holly Jameson Jennifer Dionisio Joe Whitmore Lulu Heal Mel Wheeler Jimmy Slater VOID Collective Thomas Tudoux

Photography Ami Nash Evgeniy Stepanets Gloria Pasotti Henri Badaröh Jordane Prestrot Lisa Edi Primoz Zorko Tanya Traboulsi Playlist by Miriam Avery Stream it via our website! Work song Cinderella One More Round & Woman Work Maya Angelou This Woman’s Work Kate Bush Blood Sabbatical Queer’d Science Controlling Your Own Work Noam Chomsky Metropolis Kraftwerk On Unemployment & Benefits David Cameron Jobseeker Sleaford Mods On Education & Priviledge David Foster Wallace Don’t Worry About the Government Talking Heads Job Interview Sabotage Peep Show Work Song Nina Simone Dancing/Work Kate Bush Work It Missy Elliot Artist as a (Dys—)Function David Bowie Watch Us Work It Devo What Work Is by Philip Levine Morgan Williams Working Class Hero John Lennon

Read Infinite Jest David Foster Wallace Rossum’s Universal Robots Karel Čapek Fucking Good Art #31: It’s Play Time Tijs Goldschmiedt a.o. Women & Labour Olive Schreiner The Making of the English Working Class by E. P. Thompson Watch Clerks (1994) Kevin Smith The Shining (1980) Stanley Kubrick Modern Times (1936) Charlie Chaplin Typefaces Arek by Khajag Apelian debakir.com Mangal by Raghunath Joshi Paper Cyclus 80g/m² Cyclus 200g/m² Marc the Printers marctheprinters.co.uk Printed & Bound by Team Trident Press teamtridentpress.com Printed in Manchester, U.K. June 2016 Publisher’s Note © The publisher and contributors reserve their rights in regards to copyright. No part may be reproduced or copied without the written consent of NOUS. Danke! The views and opinions expressed in this issue are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of NOUS. Subscription enquiries subscribe@nous-magazine.de All other enquiries hej@nous-magazine.de www.nous-magazine.de Edition

of 500

work issue

Fo r mind culture & empathic thinking.

NOUS is here to help you slow down and get to the bottom

We invite professional as

of abstract issues such as depression and stress in a

well as novice writers to

creative and uplifting way. In our everyday life we often

respond to these topics

tend to lose track in a sea of messages and expectations

building a balanced

surrounding us.

magazine showcasing opinions from different

With social progress and seemingly increasing freedom

countries and social

we also feel a growing pressure on our performance in the

groups.

various roles we take on. We are here to advocate for a more open and emotional engagement with issues related

This is the person next to

to our mental health. We want to invite you to slow down

you sharing their story.

with us. Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s take our time for a mindful engagement

This is a community

with the person next to us and ourselves.

embracing individuality, believing in a better today.

Mental Health has increasingly moved into our societyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s focus during the last years as more and more people overcome prejudice and speak out about their struggle, seek for help, and tell their stories. We admire their courage. We fight with them for a healthy society. We stand tall for stories that connect and make us understand better. Each issue of NOUS explores a specific facet of mind culture, steadily building an encyclopedia of emotional, and creative response to challenging topics, offering ways

nous. A philosophical term for the faculty of the human mind necessary for understanding what is true or real. In colloquial English, nous also denotes good sense, which is close to meaning it had in Ancient Greece. nous is reason, understanding, mind and awarenss.

of engagement and ease.

About NOUS

by Lisa Lorenz

All work and no play makes Jack a d u l l b o y. Dear Reader. One week ago the Swiss people voted against the introduction of an unconditional basic income for all. This law could have secured all citizens financial security no matter their occupation. 2500 Swiss Francs a month: that's ÂŁ1780, or â&#x201A;Ź2277, or $2590. That's your bed, your food, your basics covered.

Shining

by Stanley Kubrick

Opponents argued that people would become lazy and just stay at home. Immigrants would exploit the system, the state would face financial ruin, their national economy would no longer be able to compete on the global market. The referendum clearly rejected the introduction of a UBI,

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but despite the lack of critical debate in Switzerland the referendum itself stirred interest in other parts of the world. The referendum was a mini revolution, a reminder that it's us who build our society and it's us who can technically change it, too. It's a debate about sacrifice and solidarity. More than just a fiscal or monetary issue, work and labour reflect the relations of human beings with their kind. This can be seen in the relatively uncovered (at least in the British press) Nuit Debout movement in France, where protests over labour laws have been transformed into an expression of general dissatisfaction with the status quo. Encompassed within the labour law process are concerns over state of French democracy, the rise of inequality and the greed of corporations.

We will explore how work can and should be more than a means to earn a living; how our work can be a calling, support, a cure. The Work Issue is a call for patience and understanding, it's an invitation to rethink our working life. It invites you to take a coffee break, slow down a little. You will meet searching young adults, hard working strikers, retired social workers, nurses, and janitors telling their stories of dedication, struggles, and love. How work can be your demon but also your inspiration and foundation to a happy and healthy life.

All play and no work

makes Jac k a mer e t oy.

Our working life, then, means so much more than our job title or income. In the stories on the following pages you will find many of the issues that characterise our ill working society: cheap labour, discrimination against class or gender, performance pressure, and social prejudice.

Introduction to Work

Lisa Lorenz & George Odysseos

Contents

The Unsuccessful Job Applicant j.j. steinfeld

lisa

edi

I work – therefore, I am! biljan

and Doubt

evgeniy

ance, Ro

Awaydays stepanets

Working Hard

or Hardly Working ami

Before Wo r k One

uid

marija

nash

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me... sarah werner

tanya

The Ultimate Euphemism morrell

shane

holly

magill

cronin

Confidenc

155

The Formalities emily

160

oldfield

wheeler

macdonald

lulu

heal

The Hot Dog Stand melinda

176

mel

Foxtrot Comedy Club frazer

168

start, Dr

sian

Wo Iden Po e

traboulsi

brasher

camille

smithwick

A Game of Snakes & Ladders maz dublé

jordane

prestrot

New Beginnings Fo u r

Doreen Gray mantz yorke

antonella

trovarelli

Unmastered angus

atio

nships

stewart

holly

stacy

r, an

alessandra

murison

genualdo

d Balan

The Work Experience jake

duff

Interview: thomas

tudoux

structi

saul

bush

atelier mcclane

Creases

powerment

After Wo r k Three

Revo

con

112

Without Work

A World De

primoz zorko

Pause, Repetition, Rhythm

ork ntity etry

When We Talk About Work

Time Place Tw o

jameson

What We Talk About

120

josh davies jennifer

dionosio

One Working Life gaynor

pettitt

gloria

pasotti

The Cure ellen

denton

henri

void

136

badarรถh

Out of the Depths jeff morgan

128

collective

142

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One B e f o r e Wo r k THE UNSUCCESSFUL JOB APPLICANT I WORK, THEREFORE — I AM! AWAYDAYS WORKING HARD OR HARDLY WORKING WHAT IS WORK, BABY DON’T HURT ME THE ULTIMATE EUPHEMISM

One — Before Work

Guidance, Rolemodels, Doubt

ONE.

Remember those days in our childhood when

we wanted to become cosmonauts, archeologists, run our own ice cream parlour or just the world's best pond snorkeler. Somehow we always managed to turn what boring adults call work into something exciting, into play. We still remembered that our work makes us grow and others a tiny bit happier. In our teenage years we still carry this knowledge in our hearts but also a heavy bundle of expectations, worries about money, social status, and other pressures on our shoulders. We feel a bit less like Pippi Longstocking but more like Hamlet, or Juliet, or all the other young folk who came before us.

The so called real world is catching up with us. We still have the spirit but start losing the feeling. It's a highwire act, and long and winding road to find out who we are and which path we want to take. For now.

Let's listen to some of these explorers, how they build the foundation to a healthy relation to work, how they perceive the world around us, and what they can offer in terms of perspectives on facing unemployment, political turmoil, and static traditions. Who are their role models, what are their fears? â&#x2014;&#x17D;

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GUIDANCE, ROLEMODELS & DOUBT

VISUALS LISA EDI

WORDS J.J. STEINFELD

The Unsuccessful Job Applicant

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…transforming tyrants into docile rabbits automatic writing every third Thursday walking great distances on my hands devouring memory even without appetite disappearing with a simple abracadabra reappearing on planets yet to be discovered mimetic powers second to none

»Your list of magical skills do interest us but there are large gaps in your work history,« the intergalactic magic show’s impresario says to the top-hatted man sitting across the desk in the spacecraft temporarily docked on Earth. »And you are older than we like to employ on our strenuous journeys to far-flung planets. Besides, you have no performance experience outside your unmagical little planet.« Just then the top-hatted man said a single magical word and in a puff of smoke the intergalactic magic show’s impresario turned into something absurdly smaller than terrestrial small and standing to leave, the top-hatted man uttered, »Our planet is more magical than you can begin to imagine.«

One — Before Work

The Unsuccessful Job Applicant

I work – therefore, I am! WORDS MARIJA BILJAN

For the last two years I have been

Since then, I have been waiting for the

switching between different jobs

bureaucracy to »solve my case« so I can

and internships abroad, in the winter

start with my new working experience.

time, to seasonal jobs in tourism, in Croatia, during the summer. Last October, things didn’t go as planned.

After waiting for more than a month, I started to count the days more precisely: since the last time I had

I decided to try my luck in Croatia,

worked, since I have been waiting for

my home country, and find a job or a

an answer, since they sent me another

very poorly paid internship (part of

e-mail to wait a little bit longer. The

governmental measures to stimulate

gentleman who is »working on my

»employment« rate, which is very low

case« almost never answers the phone.

here) This is almost the only way to

I go to their office and it’s closed. When

get some kind of experience in this

I finally reach him, he promises to

badly organized country. I got accepted

get it done in the next two weeks.

very quickly, and was supposed to start working by the end of December.

I am still waiting.

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Sometimes I give them a phone call, but it all ends with that »Kafkaesque« schizophrenic outcome;

I don’t wake up stressed, but I go to bed very tired. Still, each time I meet new people,

I had better stay at home and do

or speak to friends I haven’t seen for

things that make more sense.

a long time, the »Kafkaesque« panic feeling overwhelms me. After giving your name, stating your profession

Kafkaesque Panic overwhelmes me.

and occupation is the second and probably the most important thing that will represent you. I can’t say that I work on my short stories, or that I am transcribing interviews. Nor can I say

In the meantime, between the panic

that I am working on something very

attacks and those zen moments when

interesting that might be seen in public

I manage to relax and take things

soon. This is because, like those who are

as they are now, I try not to neglect

»officially« employed, I don’t get any

my social life and my passions.

money for what I do. And I am not sure

I actually start to enjoy it. I

I ever will. So I tell them I am waiting.

find my own rhythm and devote most of my time to my greatest passions – reading and writing. I am developing an international

So I tell them I’m waiting.

anthropologic–artistic project that is slowly reaching out to

Everybody in Croatia knows about

the wider world and becoming

the current situation with getting a job,

part of something bigger. So, I

but still, being in this static position

»work« more than normally.

leaves a huge mark on your identity. ☞

One — Before Work

I work — therefore, I am!

Who are you if you are not officially

you must, you must have… a vicious

working? There are certain beliefs that

circle of questions and assumptions.

I am surrounded with in this society:

And some of them are true. It’s difficult

if you are not working, e.g. earning

to stay with your head up in such an

money – you are wasting your time;

uncertain situation. Even more so

you should move back to your parents’

when you don’t just want to »get a job«,

house and save the little money you

but rather find a place, job and lifestyle

still have; if you don’t work, you can

you truly enjoy. So I am not even sure

take care of your nieces, grandparents,

where I want to live and what I want

relatives… ; without a job, you must

to do for a living. Do I want to keep

feel unworthy; why didn’t you think

my passions as my hobbies or do I

about your future before you started

want to make a living from them?

studying anthropology?; you should,

According to the EU Labour Force Survey Report of March 2016 the youth unemployment rate in Croatia is around 38.9% . T he average unemployment rate among the EU youth, aged 15 to 24 years, is 18.8% . T his awards Croatia a spot on the pedestal, just below champion Greece and runner-up Spain.

T he European Union agreed to invest 6. 4 billion euro in order to lower youth unemployment between 2014 and 2020. — dpa (German Press Agency)

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Not knowing the answer to that

It’s as when a child finds a hidden

question probably itensifies the

shelf with sweets. It knows, that after

fear of not being able to live from

eating all of it and being busted,

something that is not »profitable«,

there is a punishment coming. You

or – failing in accomplishing my

always have to have some sort of

dreams and staying – unemployed.

discontent, find something that is not right. You are valued when

Continuing with present beliefs in

you suffer, at least a bit – please!

our society, there are also different paradoxes we encounter. Not working a lot, if possible, »cheating and pretending« when nobody notices, and still getting good money – is sort of an ideal for many people.

If you want to be accepted you have to unsatisfied.

Easy money, as they call it. On the other hand, not working

Then you can talk about your job

a lot, but having a good salary, and

and get understanding from others

maybe even enjoying your job, puts

who share the same dissatisfaction.

you in another category of »suspicious

Otherwise you get envious and

professions and fake satisfied

distrusting looks. You don’t want

individuals«. Nobody can be happy

that if you want to be accepted! If

with their job. Having a job means

you want to be part of this society

hard work, and hard work brings you

in which your identity that – feeling

money that helps you live… or just

of selfness, knowing who you are –

survive? You should struggle, suffer

depends on being recognized for what,

and sacrifice a lot to have a result. No

paradoxically, you are actually not! ☞

pain, no gain, would be another saying.

One — Before Work

I work — therefore, I am!

So, is »bad work« actually seen as

recognizing the results of that different

»good work«? Henry Miller said that

kind of »hard work«. It is probably not

daily work, »work of the world«, that

measurable, it won’t bring you »easy

has to be done in order to support

money and correspondent pleasure«,

this society to function, actually

but it will maybe put you in the right

equals to »dirty« work. By accepting

place in this world. Your work might

the imposed system and structure

become your life and vice versa, but

of society, very often we accept to

this time with a conscience choice. And

live below our potential, as he would

hopefully with fulfillment, regardless

also add. By immersing ourselves

of some distrusting or suspicious looks.

in common beliefs and altering ourselves to flow with the established

So, I go back to my everyday waiting

order, we miss the opportunity

and practicing my patience and

to question and contemplate the

observance. I will also write, read and

»real« world and our existence.

do more research for my project.

We’re living below our potential.

»Keep up the good work!«, some people told me. I try to do that, each and every day. I will maybe even take a break, just before I start with my »official« work and before I decide what

The purpose of Life and our life in this moment. And to do that we need time and personal permission – to be idle, to put aside physical, »hard« labour for a more subtle, important and I dare to say even harder work, that of getting to know yourself and learning to listen to what it is that you should really do. It also takes a lot of sacrifice, determination and trust – in life and ourselves; not depending on other people’s judgements and

is it that will define me and my identity in this »hard working« society. ◎

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Marija Biljan's project T he City As A Person gives diverse perspectives of urban life, offer ing ways to reimagine the concrete jungle. T he project collects illustrations & stor ies which treat the city like a friend, allowing the readers (and wr iters) to re-connect with their environment. T he blog project is continuously building an encyclopedia of possibilities and vie ws that shif t our perspectives.

T he City As A Person is a community project open to all for submissions. cityasaperson.com

One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work

I work â&#x20AC;&#x201D; therefore, I am!

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Awaydays PHOTOGRAPHY EVGENIY STEPANETS

My personal stagnation started

after graduating from university. I realised I didn’t want to do the stuff I studied at all.

But in my hometown Luhansk,

you don’t have a great deal of

choices when it comes to work. Oftentimes young people will

find a job at a plant or end up in retail.

My friends and I took on some

temporary or seasonal work too, but always dreamed of leaving the city. We carry this feeling of hope with us. Awaydays is

not a portrait of people in Lu-

hansk in general, but about my friends and about myself. ◎

One — Before Work

Awaydays

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One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work

Awaydays

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One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work

Awaydays

One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work Awaydays

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One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work Awaydays

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Wo r k i n g Hard or Hardly Wo r k i n g WORDS AMI NASH

Sometimes the pressures

Unquestionably, our work, or our

of work can control us;

jobs, can give us as individuals

but sometimes being forced out

not only financial secur ity, but

of work can lead to a creeping

al so bo ost o ur self- co nf id e nce,

stagnation and ill mental health.

and create strong working communities who support and f ight fo r ea ch o th e r. T his personal essay looks at work from a political point of view in light of the events of Bloody Sunday and the perspective of a Catholic working class woman from Der ry. T he author will analyse her family history, societal values, and prejudice based on class and education.

Ami’s Daddy overlooking Der r y (2015)

Derry. Londonderry. Stroke City. The

Thus the prospect of a new life in

Walled City. Suicide City. The City

Manchester

of Culture. Whatever your religious

walls

or territorial identity may be: it’s my

sectarianism, was a promising one.

away

from

segregation,

the

riots,

bombs,

and

home. A home from which I desperately needed

escape.

Ever-increasing

Stroke City. Walled City. Suicide City.

low employment rates, prescription drug abuse, serious lack of education (resulting in an uninspired, depressed youth) and the ever-present hatred and resentment between two communities:

Most important, I wanted to gain a new

living in Derry had begun to consume

outlook on life. Derry, in its current

any hope I once had in defying the

socio-economic state, does not have the

predetermined role of a young working

resources to allow the working class to

class, Catholic girl.

develop in any positive and meaningful way. ☞

One — Before Work

Working Hard or Hardly Working

Deadly plastic bullet used to distract protesters by British paratroops; publication »T h e y S h o o t C h i l d r e n : the use of plastic and rubber bullets in the Nor th of Ireland« (19 88)

Tele vi s io n foota ge of the pea cef ul Civil Rights protest which would later become known as the Bloody Sunday Massacre: 30th January 1972

One — Before Work

Working Hard or Hardly Working

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Imagine simply wanting to live your

the

civil

rights

life, yet being routinely harassed,

movement in the U.S.,«

arrested or even tortured. All of

says

these acts are committed under the

professor of History and

assumption (of British paratroopers)

African American Studies

that you are a terrorist. More often

at Georgia State University.

than not there is no evidence – simply

We were second class citizens.

judgment. This is called internment: a

Without a vote. Without a

law set up by the British government

job or proper housing. A poor

to eradicate all IRA activity, whilst

Catholic family of seven would

simultaneously

come second to a professional

clearing

young

Maurice

Hobson,

Catholics off the streets out of fear

protestant couple when it came to

of an uprising. Catholics in Derry

social support.

lived a similar struggle to the black community in America and so many other minorities around the globe who are discriminated against for their religion or race.

A peaceful movement turns bloody.

Fighting for freedom and equality. A civil war was roaring. Innocent people were dying on a regular basis. It was during the tragic events of The Bloody Sunday Massacre, when 13 innocent men were shot dead as they ran

»They called themselves

the negroes

for their lives from armed paratroopers,

and they routinely

that my uncle was murdered whilst my

sang We Shall Overcome at their marches,

Grandad was wounded for trying to

which most people know as the anthem

protect his son. ☞

of northern ireland

I therefore can’t blame my Granny

After the troubles many men and

for taking her youngest remaining

women suffered from Post Traumatic

son out of education. Fighting for

Stress Disorder and complex mental

freedom and equality replaced work

health issues which often lead to

as the main purpose in life for the

serious alcohol and prescription drug

most oppressed and discriminated

abuse. People completely lost their

members of society. Needless to say,

faith in society and the political and

education also took a back seat. This

social system. My Daddy is one of these

attitude still prevails today, and my

victims, making him dependent on my

family never held education in the

Mammy’s care.

highest regard. Attending university certainly wasn’t an option during these times, and if Catholic youths were lucky enough to find a job, they were often highly discriminated against in

Jesus doesn’t even enter the conversation

the predominantly protestant owned workplaces in Derry. It took nearly 40

extremely

large

percentage

years from the event for the British

of Derry Catholic families live like

Prime Minister David Cameron to

this. Growing up, work was never a

finally declare all victims innocent of

priority for me. However, not feeling

their label as »terrorists«: »There is no

the pressure and expectation from my

doubt, there is nothing equivocal, there

family to strive for a career allowed me

are no ambiguities. What happened on

to focus on my own personal growth

Bloody Sunday was both unjustified

and develop my creative interests;

and unjustifiable. It was wrong«.

which ultimately pushed me to make

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sense of the world on my own. So in that respect I have never resented my parents, as I believe they gave me the space to walk my

own

path,

whilst

also smothering me with love and affection, as Irish families always do. All things considered, I had a lovely childhood, and an even better youth. But eventually I

»End Inter nment, I. R . A .«: graffiti mural in Der ry declar ing sympathy with the Catholic population

began to question and reflect. A

9-year-old

girl

throwing

bricks at an ambulance thinking it’s a police van. Is that normal? The

IRA

chasing

drunken

youngsters through the streets with their AK 47s and balaclavas to »clean the streets«. Is that still normal? ☞

One — Before Work

Working Hard or Hardly Working

My youth was

We still were angry young Catholics

never as bad as

who would throw bricks over to the

my parents’, but

Protestant side of the wall. Some of us

sectarian abuse and

were doing it consciously, others just

division

between

young Catholics and

did it for the pure craic.

Protestants was, and still remains, a deeply rooted problem, which lies

heavily

our

Work? What’s work?!

hearts. I never met a Protestant in person when I was a

Catholics received poor education

child. I only ever heard

back in the day, and still do today. My

distant stories and I would

daddy was removed from school when

daydream of how different

he was only 13 because my granny was

their skin would smell, or

worried he would get caught up in

wonder if the texture of their

cross fire and shot dead – a common

hair was the same as mine.

tragedy for school children not so long

Now, when I talk about how

ago. The authorities or management

important religion is to us,

of the school did not care or notice

Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary

his absence. Education, at this point,

don’t even enter the conversation.

wasn’t important to the people of Derry.

Territory, revenge, and freedom:

As for me, the education system would

Are you Green or Orange? Hun or

fail to notice my Dyslexia, Dyspraxia

Fenian? Derry or Londonderry? If

and Dyscalculia. I attended an all

you don’t get it right, be prepared to

girls’ working class Catholic school in

explain yourself, be prepared to justify

the heart of a Republican area. All the

why you even started the conversation.

»benefits girls« went to St Mary’s.

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We were the St Mary’s Pram Pushers

bigger than my pathetic complex. I was

as the middle class, Protestant, mixed

programmed to hate and discriminate,

gender, multicultural schools liked

but all I ever wanted was peace and

to call us. Nevertheless, unlike my

equality. Five years later, I’m 23 and

parents, I was able to get into uni. I

a proud working class woman with a

was 18 when I moved to Manchester.

university degree. Derry has risen, the

Just a clueless Derry girl, hanging out

two communities have joined hands,

with middle and upper class, well

the economy has grown and Derry has

educated, travelled, creative, intelligent

become a popular place to visit due to

people. I felt stupid and increasingly

its rich history of social and political

embarrassed of my background. I

issues.

feared the dreaded question: What do

your parents do?

I am no longer ashamed, I am empowered. I feel secure in my identity.

I am proud of our struggle.

I am human, just like any other person, be they Protestant or Catholic. We never were different, we always smelled the same. I am proud of our struggle and I’m proud of my family. I have grown

I had never heard of an avocado,

into this society and enjoy working.

or hummus. I’m confused about my

Growing up in Derry has taught me

identity. Before, I had felt inferior to

that happiness is much more important

middle class Northern Irish Protestants,

than any career. I enjoy earning my own

now I feel so small compared to middle

money and being independent. But I

class English people. Why wasn’t I

will not hesitate to walk away should

allowed to grow up with piano lessons

my work ever make me feel trapped

and dance classes? But then again,

or unhappy. I have been on benefits

that’s not me! I am who I am for a

between jobs but I will never feel

reason. The troubles in Derry are much

ashamed for reaching out for help. ◎

One — Before Work

Working Hard or Hardly Working

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One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

It's a dream as old as moder n times â&#x20AC;&#x201C; jump on a wagon, boat or plane and head off to a faraway tropical paradise. A life w i t h o u t b u r e a u c r a c y , t e r r o r, unemployment or personal registrations seems to be only a travel ticket away. Increasingly, more young people take the chance on a gap y e a r, o r c h o o s e a l if e w i t h o u t the usual 9 to 5 . T his decision often includes leaving society's conventions but also commodities, family and fr iends behind. Will a life in paradise tr uly give us that happily ever after?

One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work

What is Work? Baby, donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hurt me...

work issue

WORDS SARAH WERNER

PHOTOGRAPHY TANYA TRABOULSI

What is work? B a b y, d o n’ t h u r t m e . . . Now, as I finished my master’s degree

I list internships and volunteer work,

I have to face myself entering the so

language and IT skills. If we’re honest,

called serious side of life. Looking for

that all sounds more interesting and

jobs, reading job offers thinking about

professional than it actually is. I

where I see myself, writing applications,

present myself in the most positive

presenting myself in motivational

way, almost gapless, if necessary, I will

letters and curriculum vitae.

exaggerate. Work means assimilation: to your boss, your colleagues, the

Am I really writing the course of my life

social and spatial environment, working hours, dress codes, language, mindset. Luckily no employer is interested in your private life, yet. It is your own business, not theirs.

But am I really writing a curriculum

I get nervous when I read the list of

vitae, the course of my life? In fact

requirements in job ads. The one thing

what counts are the experiences made

which is almost always demanded, is

in the working domain, rather than in

resilience. Probably the most unsettling

life, right? I write about my education,

requirement to me. I’m no weenie,

my qualifications, work experience.

but I am a sensitive person. ☞

One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

Things become bigger than I can cope

need anything else but their paper

with quite quickly. Especially when

and pencil or violin or whatever tools,

I can’t support a task to 100 percent.

and a woman to adore, a princess,

But that’s my own business. At work,

a goddess, a higher power they can

I am supposed to pull myself together

believe in. Maybe even religion. But

and do my job. Ideally we should

the times, when a life like this was

all find a job we like, in which we

possible, are long gone... I thought.

can apply and extend our skills, in a

They live from hand to mouth. They...

comfortable and positive environment,

live! Their profession is their passion

where we can enjoy what we’re doing.

– music, art, craftsmanship – it makes them survive. Their life is their work

Blurred lines between work & life.

and vice versa. They are not bound to a place, they develop their skills day by day, their journeys are their inspiration. Their wages is life itself.

The lines between work and life become more and more blurry. Because your work is fun, because you can identify with what you

My return flight is next week.

do, because your colleagues are your friends, because you are appreciated for what you are doing.

My plans were all set. I finished my master’s degree, applied for

I love this romantic notion of life that

jobs, went to interviews, got a job,

Hesse, Eichendorff as well as Kerouac

looked for a flat, found one, went

put in my mind. It is about life and

away – to an island in Cambodia.

love, about wandering, vagabonds, artists, sentimental souls, who don’t

For one month. To hang out with my friends, to work a bit at their bar,

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to enjoy the sun, snow-white

Lists might help, so I wrote down

beaches, turquoise sea... before

why I would go back to Germany and

entering real life. My return flight

for what I would stay on this island.

is supposed to be in a week. The most important thing: friends My job here sounds quite proper

– check! on both sides... (and I won’t

in terms of working hours: five days

start setting up a friends ranking!)

a week, around nine hours a day... In reality it’s the cliché backpacker

Accommodation – check! on

job. Two days on, one day off, free

both sides again. But my flat in

accommodation, food and drinks;

Germany is lovely and cheap,

chilling, chatting, getting wasted.

including a lovely flatmate. The accommodation here: a ten bed dorm with shared bathroom, including

No strict hierarchy, no money.

termites, mosquitos, lizards, mice. Work – yep! A safe hostess job with promising income where I will have to shave my armpits, remove my

I find myself applying real job-

piercing, cover-up my tattoos and wear

measures, money-wise and mindset-

a business suit weighs up against a

wise. As the newest member of staff

bar job on an island where I can work

I see myself at the lower end of the

in my bikini – if I wanted to – meet

hierarchy; I calculate how much cash I

new people every day, play the music

could earn if I had this job back home.

I like, smoke spliffs, slurp cocktails.

But: no strict hierarchy, no

The job here inspired me to set up my

money. Instead I get to spend and

own small business – a bakery serving

enjoy my time in a backpacker’s,

up cakes and other sweet stuff. ☞

a party tourists’ paradise.

One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

People who come to this island

Work allows us to survive – at least

often describe it as paradise, as a

it should – at best on a physical as well

playground for adults or grown-up

as a mental level. For me, it is all about

kids, a laboratory of experimentation.

alternatives, trying out something new, feeling free, abandoning plans.

This is what convinces me most.

Most of the people here live on a

I can do what I like without any

shoestring. I was always frugal, but at

bureaucratic regulations. Nobody

the same time, or because of that, never

asks for hygienic standards in my

really had to keep an eye on my money.

kitchen, I could be my own boss, testing new recipes and hopefully in the end cover my expenses.

What do I work for? What do I want?

My return flight took off days ago. My return flight was supposed to be four days ago. I’m trying to get a

That leads us to another issue: money.

bit closer to Eichendorff’s, Hesse’s,

Going back to Germany also means

Kerouac’s vagabonding heroes – or

earning money. Staying on the island

anti-heroes, depends on how you see

means spending or investing it.

the world. It requires some effort to

I need to change the date of my return flight, extend my visa, buy baking tools, ingredients and everyday things.

choose this way. It feels good though! Getting back into the system is probably easier than getting away from it once you are hooked.

What am I working for? How do I want to spend my time? What

No plans, every day is any day,

do I really need? Work means

no weekdays, no weekends, no

money; money means life.

yesterday, no tomorrow.

work issue

I do what I like with the people I like in a place I like. And my space brownies go down very well so far. I start creating, shaping, doing my own thing. Work should always be that way! This place isn’t paradise, at least not for me. It offers a way to change your mind-set about our conventional lifestyles. It is a phase, a station, a stop. I don’t see myself living here forever. It’s a playground, a field of experimentation, another step in the search of one’s identity. It is neither the final destination nor a waste of time. This is here, this is now, and this is good. ◎

Tanya Traboulsi s pent her childhood travelling back and forth between Austria and Lebanon. Her work explores themes of belonging, identity and memory. tanyatraboulsi.com

Sarah Werner went away for a short trip to a tropical paradise after f inishing her MA in Ethnomusicology. She has now retur ned to Leipzig, Ger many in order to face the ser ious life and to give it a tropical twist.

One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

work issue

One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

work issue

One — Before Work

What is Work? Baby, don’t hurt me...

One â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Before Work

The Ultimate Euphemism

work issue

The Ultimate Euphemism WORDS HOLLY MAGILL

ILLUSTRATION SIAN MORRELL & SHANE CRONIN

They’re not asking

the specifics of your morning routine – tea, toast, shower, teeth, clothes.

Not interested

in those weeks of perseverance with that tricksy crochet hook before you eventually got the hang of it.

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Don’t care

how many things you’ve applied for this week, this month, this year and heard nothing.

Not bothered

that you shop in Lidl, but like M&S, if you use the library for internet, or books.

Don’t want to know

if you read a newspaper and which, whether you have opinions about Syria and the NHS.

The question is

»What do you do?«

One — Before Work

The Ultimate Euphemism

work issue

Two Wo r k P l a c e DOREEN GRAY UNMASTERED WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT WORK THE WORK EXPERIENCE INTERVIEW: PAUSE REPETITION RHYTHM

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time

Relationships, Power, & Balance

TWO.

At work we become robots. We forget about

the outside world, living in a bubble of charts, to-do lists, groundhog days and Sisyphus tasks. At work we sometimes forget to take care of both ourselves and the guy in the office cubical next to us. We become lonesome wolves because we've been sidelined, for some random reason, to make us feel small, less competitive, less of another hurdle in the way.

At work we become isolated. We forget how strong we can be. We want to prove ourselves to family, to colleagues, to society. We can work. We can make it work.

In the right place and the right time work can be our fuel. In another place, at another time, it can be our Narcissistic pond, our Roman gladiators' arena, our monster under the bed, our most dreaded time of the day.

In this chapter we'll explore the uncomfortable side of work. We will go on a journey to the far future, meet bullies and those fighting against their ordeal. We will dive into the surreal worlds of paper stacks, performance charts, and lunch break romances.

work issue

RELATIONSHIPS, POWER, & BALANCE

work issue

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time Doreen Gray

Doreen Gray WORDS MANTZ YORKE

ILLUSTRATION ANTONELLA TROVARELLI

You came with such a winning smile, even when shunting me from office to pokier office, hoping Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d take the hint and go. Later you understood I had knowledge you could exploit:

coquettishly, you sought its use but I gave you a polite refusal together with a silent snort, since by then I needed you far less than you did me.

work issue

My colleague was more exposed. You restructured her department, made her post redundant, and said she should apply for a rejigged post she was never going to get.

You weren’t ungenerous, granting her a whole year of grace in fathomless depression knowing a sharpened sword was suspended above her neck.

Intent on execution, your glaucomatous eyes prevented you from seeing karma’s blade being hauled up and readied for the drop.

I met you once, after you’d gone: you must have no ageing painting in the attic, for your calculated brutalities are scribed deep into your face. Two – Work Place Time Doreen Gray

WORDS ANGUS STEWART

ILLUSTRATION HOLLY JAMESON

Unmastered Some time after the end of the world, two men – the master and the slave – sit at a table and talk. T he night gathers, and it is time to tell stories.

I’m walking alone in this vast

…is that all? Come on, that’s

hallway. Something from before

piecemeal! In times like these it’s

the bombs dropped. The air’s

give for take. If we trade as unequal

clear. Skylight ventilation . There’s

partners, we’ve effectively reverted

birds above, soil below, some bats

to stealing. You gotta hold on to

hanging, and little green weeds are

the notion of the fair deal. Gotta be

growing through the cracks in the

square when everything else is so

floor. Somewhere far away I can

bent out of shape. Right? Right.

hear water. Maybe a river. Maybe a drinking fountain stuck on auto.

So. My words. Birds, bats, walls, weeds, something like water far away.

Can you picture it? If you can’t, don’t worry. Just pay attention

The important thing is a little

to the words. I myself never had

green light. It’s blinking pure,

much of an imagination. That’s

computer green. Green for go. I’m

something I can admit. What can

approaching and I’m thinking:

you admit– what weakness?

»here’s a way to connect«. ☞

Two – Work Place Time Unmastered

it hadn’t seen this little light I would have carried on and found the next place to do my work.

sure, but I can hack it out there.

back moss. I’m thinking that if

A bad life beats no life. I just

Now I’m pulling

figure that toil or death is a false It’s lonely, sure, and I go mad,

always needs more beans. So any distraction can cost a –

anyone’s slave. I don’t need to

things being as they are, a man

talk or smile or make anything

Work means beans and

except my labour useful. the road. I can do that. I can be take my beans and walk on down

to the world. Here on the table. You think it’s trivial but really

The bombs killed human names

here and now is how I contribute

and faces but they didn’t kill

pay, by telling this story. This

man’s spirit. Our spirit is like

fooling yourself. This is how I

roaches. Indestructible. Humour

arrangement but you’re still

me that much because I am

yourself. I mean that’s the formal

deadly fuckin’ serious. What?

You’re not paying me for the garden work. You’re fooling

You know, I don’t have to talk.

No, man, no.

We don’t got to connect. I could

stories are something you gotta

society ain’t over. Not yet.

get, like get or starve. Give too,

See unlike many I believe

for some. Give or get sick.

on this racket, society is over. And when society gives up

What am I talking about? I’m saying you gotta listen. Man

purpose, the world’ll lose me and treating tales and When I stop

This is what holds back the abyss.

have a corpse take my place.

you gotta open your ears wide.

telling as my life’s

kill my misery.«

A man always needs more beans. dilemma. So, if you don’t mind…

»Here’s a way to

A bad life beats no life.

issue

work

You gotta open

your ears wide.

This is what holds back the abyss.

I press the letter G on the keyboard. G for

Go. Great great great, go go go. The terminal

boots up and shows me a government logo.

Which one? Don’t recall. Something foreign. Stupid

looking letters. And there’s a command prompt

interface already running. Guess what I found.

No, no. You might guess. It’s about the most interesting thing you could hope for. …well, you overshot.

It was a message. Just one. Not the exchanges

of doomed lovers. Not missile launch codes.

Not some worker drone writing the big exposé

on his boss. Not the final man from the dead

government, sending one last we-will-protect-

Unmastered

you, stay-at-home message to whoever might be

listening. Just some clueless writer, and he wrote: >HELLO? Just »>HELLO?«. ☞

Two — Work Place Time

There were three timestamps attached to this >HELLO?. I actually have them written down, and they’re in my bag, but I’m not

Remember when people turned nasty? Like no turning back nasty. Like wolves. I lived in a city of fifteen million people.

gonna get up. This right now is sitting down time. Part of our deal. Suffice to say that there was

Uhuh. That’s... a lot. We were never bombed so we died a slow, hungry

my face. They say that when sanity

rabbits’ lifetimes between each.

I remember… unkindness – boots on

and when it was seen. Several

people was bad, but worse than that

message was sent, when it arrived,

kind of death. The people-eating

a lot of time between when the

returns it will be in the cities. You’re looking at me funny. Why rabbits? Well, I owned one, before Armageddon came.

No. I don’t think so. I consider them lost.

You didn’t know that? Didn’t forget nothing, but ... I don’t I also ate that rabbit, because I

remember it in pictures. I can only

languages are … safe enough.

supermarkets closed for good.

Human language is kinder. Computer

you believe it, on the day the

words have precision. Images hurt.

tickets actually ran out, would

could be a blessing, because my

ration tickets in my pocket. My

recall that time in words, which

was starving to death with zero

Still making the effort to improve Sounds like a bad joke? No it’s not.

my understanding of a few of those. I got textbooks. Won’t trade.

It’s reality. People with roofs over their heads like to forget. You know, forget what happened. People who live on the road – people like me –

What’s up — picturing the wolves? Better you than me. Pictures … hurt. I can’t assume you follow my

by life and how the world is.

real, and I suggest you investigate.

caused by us. That’s a thing caused

is all around us. It’s out there, it’s

meaning. Misunderstanding ain’t

we do not forget, because the truth

work issue

Basic laws of circumstance. Using words, I can provoke you to

Yes, fair point. More terminal please, less bullshit, etcetera.

create pictures in your head, but your pictures will never be a direct

So my message, >TESTING TESTING

translation of my words. We got an

123, generated its first timestamp just

error we can’t get away from. But a

a second or two after I clicked send.

connection riven with errors is better

I’m standing still for a while, kind of

than no connection at all. Always.

waiting, kind of thinking. In words and code, mind, not pictures. I’m like

More story. One bean please.

that terminal. No graphical interface, all language and process. In a minute

No? Alright. I sent:

I break from the spell and go to cave-

>TESTING TESTING 123

mouth to watch the sun go down.

Yeah, I told you. No imagination. It’s not a joke. I share this

Interesting fact: when I’m not doing stories or garden work I am a tech

stuff by instinct. I have no guile

scavenger. It’s a total hit-and-miss

beyond metaphor, really. I just see

industry but the big compensation is

what’s out there and I trade that

that nowadays when you go hunting

information for bed and beans.

for knick-knacks, you have no choice

And is it my fault if people like you – no offense – insist that they

but to go to hidden, incredible places. The pedestrian zones are pillaged.

are paying me for some other pretend work, something practical?

The other compensation is that the younger generation are all »labour

Look. You could pay any idiot for

labour labour, food food food«, so they

labour. But I’m not an idiot. I’m a

don’t join the industry to compete

navigator of God’s unfinished jokes.

with old wrecks like myself. ☞

Two — Work Place Time Unmastered

Let’s see how »labour & food« and nothing else works out in the long run. I predict an epidemic of suicide. So, yeah. I watched the view for an hour. The land and ocean were half-dead but the colours of the sunset were alive that night. To be honest the size is what I like about it. Nine times out of ten colours can hang. The sky, so unmastered. That is what I like. Birds flying in mad patterns. Bats with no pattern at all. Weeds poking through concrete. That is what makes me smile.

Oh. Thanks. You brewed it

Really old history. Like bronze

yourself? Right on. That’s why

age canals, Chinese cannons, dawn

I don’t disrespect farm work.

of the printing press. Because it’s

It’s creation. Recombination.

distant, and it can’t hurt folk.

Synthesis. The parallel with stories is… well. It’s a thing. Whatever.

People burn books. Not just for heat in winter. It’s spite for

So eventually I walk back to the terminal. My message is still there, and

the past. Spite at the author for being a smartass. I get it, kind of. Most books don’t mesh

it’s still only got one timestamp.

with »labour & food«. Words

The place to where I’d sent my

ain’t meat and potatoes.

>TESTING TESTING 123 still hadn’t received my message. So

A book didn’t save me from my

I sat down again, built a little

cannibal city. Ideas didn’t spare

fire, and read. Read properly,

mankind from the abyss. A rabbit’s

for hours. Pretty good book

instinct for running did. Good

that night. I read history.

shoes. That’s what worked for me.

work issue

So I finished history and – Ding!, a new timestamp. Which means the terminal at the other end was switched on and functional. Against the odds. I don’t take any connection for granted, however small, because it can all be taken away. There can just as easily be nothing. I was thinking »shall I walk on«, when the third timestamp pops up, which means my message was seen. By who or what I don’t know. How that system verified »seen« I don’t know. But my message was seen.

A powerful connection. Telling it

Things we never did together.

back now is affecting me.

That’s unusual for me. I already said

It’s just words. Sound from my

that normally I stick to the truth. I

own throat, describing a moment

thought about the day I ate him. No

which came to nothing. But

message came. I got hungry after the

it’s making my skin shiver.

first day. Eventually I decided that

I stayed there. Curled in my tent. Just waiting, not really

I did not want to die waiting on a reply from the mystery terminal.

wanting nothing except a reply. Something to crush the darkness.

And I’m clocking out for the night. You want more words

On the fourth day my food ran out.

tomorrow, you gotta pay.

I thought about my rabbit. I built protective words around him. A fence of adjectives and descriptive sentences

We’ll both live to tell the tale, so, square deal. Right? Right. ◎

chained together. I created stories about him, and by stories I mean things which never really happened. Two — Work Place Time Unmastered

A story about the work place as a trap, where power str uctures are being tur ned into pr ison bars instead of support systems.

W h a t We T a l k A b o u t W h e n We T a l k A b o u t Wo r k

work issue

WORDS STACY MURISON

ILLUSTRATION ALESSANDRA GENUALDO

She turns on the shower and steps

She knows she makes these

in, reaching for the bottle of shampoo.

sounds and tries to make them

After lathering, she does this weird

only in the shower at home, all

sort of shaking and flapping with her

the while flicking her wet wrists

hands, dispersing foam everywhere.

and fingers, ready to take flight.

It is as though the flapping is some kind of exclamation. That the flapping will get her somewhere. Out of the shower and into the world where she does not have to go to the office.

She's timed this ride down to the seconds.

She sticks her head under the water, soap and water streaming down her face, and hears herself making sounds like whoop whoop.

She has waited as long as she can and leaves the house. She has timed this ride now down to the seconds, driving not too fast and not to slow will get her there at the appointed time. â&#x2DC;&#x17E;

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time

What We Talk About When We Talk About Work

She mindlessly drives her car up

She parks her car and reminds

the steep hill to the office parking lot

herself to look at the autumn turning

while the maintenance men in navy

aspen leaves and the already snow-

blue uniforms drive downhill. Five or

dusted mountains one last time

six trucks pass her as she makes her

before she enters the hermetically

way to the lot. She sees Justin through

sealed too-hot or too-cold building

the car windows. Justin, who helped

where nothing important ever really

her move her desk last week. She

happens. It just feels like it should.

will not be caught unawares again. Everything is constant, yet nothing They acknowledge each other

is predictable. She walks noiselessly to

while driving past, each of them

her office. Tries not to look as though

smiling, lifting two fingers

she is waiting and looking around

off the steering wheel. A two

corners before taking each step.

finger salute to another day.

Everything is constant, yet nothing is predictable.

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time

What We Talk About When We Talk About Work

work issue

She enters her office. With her

She takes a deep breath. Smiles.

coat still on and computer still off,

Reminds him the things that need

he appears in her office doorway

fixing are for their boss. That she is not

demanding to know when she’s

the boss. That she wishes she could fix

going to fix »things«. She takes her

things, but they are out of her control.

coat off, drapes it over her chair, and sits down. He believes she has promised she would fix »things«.

She turns her back to him, her hands shaking as she turns on her computer. He continues talking at her. She begins breathing deeply.

He stands in the doorway...

Inhalation. Exhalation. She feels her insides squinch and contract and slosh into one another,

He stands in her doorway in such a

before dropping into her stomach,

way that she cannot close the door,

leaving her torso a meat sack of

nor can she leave without touching

nothingness. Some people describe

his body. He stands in her doorway

this feeling as »hollowed out«, but

in such a way that if she left, her

she feels full, very full, in her belly.

back would make contact with his

Full of bile, unwanted pulpy organs,

belly, her bottom with his groin.

misplaced twisted paperclips, chalk.

He stands in her doorway in such a way because he knows she would

She gets up suddenly, brushing past

have to touch him. And so she sits

him, touching him, and runs to the

at her desk, frozen smile on her face,

bathroom, locking the door behind her

otherwise paralyzed with her right

and retches without relief. Splashes

hand near the phone. Although her

cold water on her face, careful to avoid

phone does not have a speed-dial

her liquid black eyeliner, the front

system, she has memorized the on-site

of her linen shirt. She makes faces

police department phone number.

at her pasty dripping visage in the mirror. The buck-tooth. The rube. ☞

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The pig. In that exact order. She hears

Using the toilet as a chair and

herself »hyuck hyuck,« vocalizing like

the bathroom as a lounge is only a

some Warner Brother’s character.

temporary proposition, although she really isn’t sure how long she has been sitting there as she repeats counting

Loses track. Starts over. Loses track...

tile speckles. She remembers he had followed her to the bathroom. Now she wonders if he is gone. At least he didn’t talk to her through the door. Sometimes he talks to her

She washes her hands with the cheap

through the door. She has flushed

pearlescent pink slimy lavatory soap.

the toilet repeatedly, wasting water,

Her smile lines are almost gone, her

so as not to hear him. She gets up

face somehow both slack and swollen.

and washes her hands again, this time, just smiling in the mirror.

She decides to sit on the toilet and rest for a moment. He had followed

She thinks she’s okay. That she’s got this. Maybe this time. Maybe. Yes.

her to the bathroom, where she had to close the door on his face. Gently.

She opens the door slowly. He

Politely. Trying not to throw up on

most likely lost patience and left

him. She rests the side of her head

some time ago, but she has lost all

against the wall. Contemplates

sense of time. She walks quietly

lying on the gray tile floor, imagines

back to her desk, not saying hello to

the tiles are cool and will feel

anyone for fear that he might hear

smooth against her cheek. But the

her and come back to her office.

floor is dirty. She breathes deeply.

Back at her desk, she straightens

Inhalation. Exhalation. She counts

everything. The pens, the papers,

the speckles in the tile. Loses track.

the small mementos that give

Starts over. Loses track. Starts over.

her comfort. She begins her todo list and her penance.

work issue

She thinks about the idea of penance. Her penance is the phone, the

Several hours pass and the penance

voicemails, the never-ending barrage

and routine of the day helps enough

of emails. Most are from him, even

that her stomach has quieted and she

though he is just around the corner

notices that she is hungry. Lunch is

from her office. Sometimes, he sends

a frozen dinner made slightly better

her five emails before a meeting is

by some gourmet, truffle-infused

confirmed. Ten or more emails if

gluten free pasta slathered in smoked

he has a point to prove. The emails

Gouda cheese that she will eat at her

are long, chastising, father to child

desk. She deserves this lunchtime

emails. As though she had not been

luxury. This gluten-free macaroni

in this career for over twenty years.

and this slathering of Gouda cheese.

She thinks about this idea of

After lunch, she will leave the

penance. Penance for not getting good

office to buy coffee. Expensive coffee.

enough grades. Penance for falling

These expensive coffee beverages

into this profession. Penance for past

have names and are from coffee

successes. Penance for having the

shops all over town: the Special,

ego to think she can make anything,

the Coconino Mocha, the Marley.

any situation, work. Penance for

Twenty ounces or more at a time.

no one believing her. What he had

With soy milk, with full fat milk,

done. Him against her. She lost.

with whipped cream, with extra pumps of this or that flavor. â&#x2DC;&#x17E;

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time

What We Talk About When We Talk About Work

And people in the coffee shops will

Today she remembers to enter

smile at her, seem happy to see her,

through the officeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s back door,

will not ask her how she is, will take

bypassing the lobby. Bypassing him.

her order, will take her credit card. She will hold the hot cup between her

More calls and emails. She has a

hands, breathing deeply. Inhalation.

window in her office and watches

Exhalation. A coffee meditation.

the clouds blow across the mountain

She deserves these things.

peaks, watches parking services do their hourly drive-by circle around

He will often be in the lobby waiting

the lot, watches the maintenance

for her when she gets back from

guys stop at their trucks to pull out

getting coffee. She will feel guilt, his

afternoon snack coolers, watches the

intended purpose. Within seconds,

gleaming white buses loop around and

the feeling becomes a burnt jagged

around and around. She is lucky she

coffee bean stuck in the back of her

does not need to look at the computer

throat that she is unable to clear or

screen while she types so that she can

to swallow. Sometimes the feeling

watch more interesting things and

is so intense she cannot finish her

almost forget that she is trapped.

She deserves these things.

He did not come by her office again today, but has sent three emails demanding her attention. She has ignored them, not opening them anymore as he has them tagged with

coffee and instead, the half-finished

receipts now. Proof that she has

cups collect on her desk. As the milk

acknowledge but is ignoring him.

curdles and smells, she takes the half-empty cups out to the dumpster, wasting all of this. All of this.

She leaves the office so that no one can see her cry. She does this at

work issue

least once every week. She drives her

She cannot imagine what is next

car down to the lower level parking

for her except to see the endless

lot where there is a precipice and

multitude of days stretch before her as

two ponderosa pines in the valley

he continues to embed himself in not

below. Sometimes, she closes her

only her day at the office, but in the

eyes, tilts back and rests her neck

morning before she goes to work, and

on the headrest, and just breathes,

in the evening when she can’t sleep.

intoning »inhalation, exhalation« to herself. Sometimes, she watches the wind blow the pine needles off the branches of the ponderosas and into the air, never seeing where they

He is waiting for her.

land. Sometimes, she wonders how far she would need to back her car up and what speed she would need to

Now, she has been gone too long.

clear the embankment and hit one or

Almost as long as if she’d taken

both trees. She wonders if she could

another lunch hour. She drives

die this way, or if it would just give

back to her office, this time the

her a concussion and a broken arm.

maintenance crew each in their own cars, two-finger saluting her as they

Several long afternoon hours

drive home, their shifts over for the

stretch ahead of her. She has not

day. She parks the car and forgets,

been able to find another job. She

entering through the front lobby door.

no longer feels confident in her own abilities. Her meditation class

He is waiting for her. He wants

has not helped. Neither has her

to know where she has been all

counselor, or the anxiety medications

afternoon. He was looking for

she has prescribed, or the self-

her. Had she seen his emails?

defense tool she has at her desk.

He is waiting for her response. ◎

Two — Work Place Time

What We Talk About When We Talk About Work

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time The Work Experience

work issue

The Wo r k Experience WORDS JAKE DUFF

PHOTOGRAPHY PRIMOZ ZORKO

A romantic off ice infatuation tur ns sour as it dr if ts to wards obsession and compulsion in a sur real work environment dictated by inhumane rationality, favour ing productivity over heart.

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time The Work Experience

work issue

»What attracted you to this role?«

Even with a tasteless tongue, buds burned away like warts from

She reminds you of a china doll.

supping bottom shelf wine night

When you think of her, it’s of you as

after braindead-night. There’s

her protector; from the darker areas

enough signal getting through

of the city as she walks home alone,

that it still turns your stomach.

from home invaders, from obsessives. The reality is this. It’s you, not her,

You spend too much time looking at

that won’t leave the flat after dark.

yourself in the mirror. Preening. Like a

It’s you who, given the right conditions,

fucking animal. Do you know what it

could exhibit the same sicknesses

is you want? Or have you internalized

you masturbate to saving her from.

so much guilt now that you couldn’t know if you devoted what’s left

Tupperware lunch, leftovers

of your life to working it out?

– tasted like shit first time round, worse than shit today.

Is it to fuck? Is it to maim? Is it to dominate ruthlessly? ☞

Laughable really. You, who

Force him at gunpoint to get

smears vapour rub on his

undressed. So as not to spoil

chest before the fucking leaves

that fucking suit. Force her to

have even started falling.

watch. Put a bullet through the base of his neck so as not to fuck

»Have you any experience

up that designer stubble.

working towards a target?« »What do you think you could He’s never caught you staring.

bring to this company?«

Or, if he has, he didn’t mind. He rather seems the type to relish

The weather has been a nightmare

being watched – posing, he knows

for the last few weeks. Meteorologists

his fucking angles inside out.

have given the storm the same name as her. You know this because you

You know how much every item of

listened to him telling her. That brief

clothing he’s wearing cost him. Down

glance you cast in their direction was

to the penny. You know how much it

a troubling moment; where the gun

should have cost, and you know why

becomes flaccid in your hands and you

he got it cheaper. You’ve heard him

become aware that the fantasy that

tell her. So often that you sometimes

usually got you so reliably through

catch yourself reciting it in your mind.

the day was not, as you had previously been so convinced, dominant and

Not a single hair on his head out of place, you have a choice:

commanding and masculine but timid, tragic and, frankly, a little derivative. It is replaced with one of dropping a

Shoot him once through the

breeze block or a heavy paving slab

chest and once through the

onto his undamaged but unconscious

soft section of his skull.

face. Not just dead, destroyed. Death as a side-product of destruction.

Two — Work Place Time The Work Experience

work issue

Once a month you are pulled into

She’s always dressed so fucking

a little room by your manager. Your

neatly, it breaks your heart. Does she

numbers are somewhere between

dress so neatly when you fantasize

good and average, consistent to the

about her? Do you have trouble

point where comment is unnecessary.

fantasizing about her in an erotic context? Does it turn your stomach

These meetings do not last very long. You’re asked to sign a slip of paper and

to think about her having sex? In your mind, she is too precious

you are dismissed, all that is usually

to be sullied by something as ugly

expected of you is to respond to one

and invasive as an erect penis.

or two questions. A nod or a shake of the head will usually suffice.

»Please do not shut down your computers this Friday as they

»Is there anything you need from me?« or »Are there any issues I should know about?«

are scheduled to update.« There is a designated period of half an hour in which you are to eat. On either side of this there are two 10

or »Are your numbers

minute periods in which you are

looking good this week?«

supposed to shit and/or piss. The process of digestion is, from start to

She sits across from you; you

finish, dictated by the organization

think you’re the only person refined

you work for. The energy your body

enough to appreciate the graceful,

creates is owned by them, that is

gentle manner in which she moves

what they’re buying from you. ☞

– holds dainty cups of expensive instant coffee to her soft pink lips.

work issue

Dream 23/3/2014

The sun on the back

By the end of the

my neck becomes a

summer, the car-

cold wind that brings

park had been fully

desk. She is wearing a

scattered raindrops.

erected. The fantasy

floral patterned dress.

She is wearing a

then became of your

Though it is raining

plain, grey dress.

body being buried

In the office, at my

outside, I can feel the sun on the back of my neck and I can smell

beneath thousands »Where do you see

upon thousands of tons

yourself in 3 years?«

of concrete and steel.

freshly mown grass.

You have managed to From the window

I angle myself so that

disappear entirely.

you have a great view

I can see a little of the

of a gaping hole in the

outside world in the

city-scape, a foundation

made to reduce shift

glare of my computer

being dug out for a

flexibility due to a lack of

screen – crowds of

multi-level carpark. Each

managerial supervision. As

men and women

day you fantasize about

of Monday it will no longer

became processions

leaping out from your

be acceptable for employees

of Christs, they stub

window and impaling

to start work at 7am and

out cigarettes into a

yourself through the

leave at 3pm. This decision

seemingly bottomless

abdomen on one of the

is final. Any queries

tray nailed to a thick

several gleaming metal

should be directed towards

white Roman column.

struts that protrude

your line manager.«

»The decision has been

like arms in praise from The sound leaves the

the pit. Quite often,

The sound your

room as though sucked

you find this fantasy

computer makes when

away by a sudden

to be overwhelmingly

you receive an email

change in pressure.

arousing. Almost to

is simultaneously

the point of orgasm.

the sound of:

☞

Two — Work Place Time The Work Experience

Children counting back from 40

She would look vaguely like your mother, but you would not look

Gamelan bells

anything at all like her father. You have to get back to your desk.

A minor traffic accident In a more perfect world than this, A mother scolding a child

you move against each other in the dark as though blind. Grasping

Intensive Care Units

hungrily, clumsily – you butt heads more than once; you’re fully clothed

It was during your work-approved

and both of you are still wearing

2.30 p.m. – 2.45 p.m. shit that you

glasses. You remove, you pull each

experience a rare minute of total

other free and explore. You find

clarity; it occurred to you that when

each other’s lips, closer; you want to

you’re so used to feeling absolutely

make the final stride yourself, but

nothing, it’s easy to mistake certain

you move into it together – almost

thoughts for some kind of psychosis.

without meaning to. When you’re

Though that wouldn’t quite account

done, you open a window and a

for everything. You toss her memory

bottle of wine and share a cigarette.

somewhere less easily available. Fixate on someone, something else.

»This assessment contains a role-

Someone, something perfect. You

playing exercise in which I play a

dissect her into component parts and

customer and you play an advisor.«

build anew. She would share some, but not all of your interests. You so generously allow room for her own.

Two — Work Place Time The Work Experience

☞

work issue

At your desk you typically spend

and earphones will be

streaked with ribbons

allowed at your desks.«

of blood. I shower until I feel clean. She enters

between two and four hours researching

Dream 30/3/2014

the bathroom. I could see her so clearly. She

the symptoms of »I am in a house I

sits on the edge of the

of cancer, amongst

do not recognize. I

bath and looks at me,

other illnesses you’ve

struggle to walk, the

wordlessly. Before long,

thought you might

bottom half of my legs

undressed. She takes a

have. On certain days,

feel as though they

razor from the cabinet

you become a nervous

are being eaten alive

and gouges it into her

wreck; you hurry into

by insects, the fabric

wrist. There is not even

a toilet cubicle and

of my jeans rubbing

a slight trace of pain,

strip yourself naked

against the skin seems

emotional or otherwise,

so that you can search

to be making it worse

in her face. When I wake

the full surface of your

with every movement.

up, I am utterly unable

various different types

skin for: blemishes,

I go into the bathroom

to recall any of her

discolorations, lesions,

and get undressed. My

features. It’s too much

rashes, ingrown hairs,

legs are covered with

now to think of her.«

pimples, cankers,

black swellings, varying

hives, and warts.

in size with the largest

You’re relying too

being around the size

heavily on alcohol

of a golf ball, though

these days. Your

overtime will be available

they peak into a point.

productivity has slipped

on Saturday between

In an effort to remove

a little, according to

8–4. Please let me know

them, I stab them with

a chart your fucking

if you would like your

the nib of a fountain

manager shows you.

name putting down. It

pen, hard. They release

will be »dress down«

a watery substance,

»Please note that

She asks if there’s a problem. ☞

Two — Work Place Time The Work Experience

There are several. None of which

Your first thought upon waking is

you would ever dream of confiding

that the role of God is to act without

in her. Or anybody else. So you just

seeming to have acted at all, where

tell her no, when you want to tell her

the role of the manager is to imbue

to shut her fucking mouth. It’s not

their decisions with everything of

the easiest thing in the world to tell

themselves they wish to project.

people; that the only good reason you can think of for not killing yourself

When you write your dreams down,

is that you’re too scared to actually

they’re resolutely emptied of meaning.

go through with it. And that you

Lanced and left to drain. You have

might fuck it up, for the whole world

no idea why you bother. Add it to

to see, and spend the rest of your life

the list. It seems most of all like a lie,

having your fucking meals blended

something you wrote out so better

for you. Nonetheless, the fantasy of

to »understand«. You can’t admit to

it gets you through the worst nights.

yourself that you embellish, and you

Maybe the idea will familiarize

edit, and you omit, according to some

itself inside you, after a few years.

unspecified aesthetic ideal. For what reason, you couldn’t really say. Though

Dream 1/4/2016

you hate yourself for it. The act of interpretation is, itself, nothing more

I am looking for her. I am looking for

than an act of indulgence. And such,

her amongst the splintered wood of

you occasionally entertain the notion

shipwreck, washed up and crystalline

that the only pure use of one’s life is to

with sea-salt – though there is

work in order that you might spend the

light, it comes from a sunless sky.

rest of your time seeking happiness.

Now I am looking for her along the nameless vast spaces on either side of sighing motorways. This time, there is no light. She might be staring out from a screen, somewhere in a city close by. Bathed in yellow, forgotten by all in an instant. I keep on.

But the results speak for themselves, don’t they. ◎

work issue

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Work Place Time The Work Experience

Pause. Repetition. Rhythm.

INTERVIEW WITH THOMAS TUDOUX

WHY DOES THE HUMAN RACE ALWAYS AIM HIGHER INSTEAD OF HAPPILY INDULGING THE OKAY-ISH STATUS QUO? BEING SATISFIED ALMOST SEEMS LIKE DEATH IN OUR CAPITALIST SOCIETY. WE ASKED BRETON ARTIST THOMAS TUDOUX ABOUT OUR CHRONIC PRODUCTIVITY AND HOW IT INFORMS HIS WORK.

N O U S T h o m a s ,

issues mentioned in

find

your

work

the work issue,

touches

many

the

such as social pressure,

p e r s o n a l e f f i c i e n c y, a n d o u r n e e d t o p e r f o r m , e s p e c i a l l y i n relation to our mental health. Looking at you’re most interested in as an ar tist?

My artistic research takes multiple shapes –

drawing, video, text, installation – and is essentially about our relationship with work and hyperactivity in relation to the business world, the educational system, in the public space, or in fiction. I’m interested in work and hyperactivity because I’m totally modelled by it: I’m a nervous workaholic man. (People always see my work differently when they know me as a person. They understand that it’s not an intellectual point of view, but something that’s been bothering me, really.) I don’t want to speak about this with a critical view from the outside – to say all of this is »mad« and »wrong«. I want to study it from the inside to understand all the complexity of this matter.

work,

what is it

work issue

I try to understand why most people seem to think like this nowadays. I want to deconstruct this way of thinking ... and maybe build another one. I really understood my position when I discovered the story of Robinson Crusoe. I actually created two works around it: Robinsonnades and Speranza. This man, alone on a luxuriant desert island could live in a totally idle way. But, like the good Protestant man he is, he totally rebuilds the capitalist society he comes from: working all the time except on Sundays, accumulating things he doesn’t need ... just because he doesn’t know how to live differently, because he doesn’t know how to be human in a different way. I read a lot of different versions of this story. In Michel Tournier’s Friday, or, The Other Island, the novel’s protagonist, Friday, teaches Robinson’s how to live differently. In my work, I would like to involve the perpetual fight between the »Robinson« and the »Friday« inside of me. NOUS How do you think the routine of work, the interaction of active and passive, relaxation and activity informs your wo r k in r e l at i o n to m e nt al h e al t h? We n ot i c e d s o m e of yo ur works’ titles are closely related to our past issues of the magazine. Insomnie for example…

TT Indeed, Insomnie is the work which touches mental health and work the most. It illustrates our way of thinking in this workaholic world. From a selection of adverts, which are about hyperactivity and at the same time remind us of Surrealist collages, I created this series of dreamlike drawings. Insomnie is at the same time formal and playful.

☞ Two – Work Place Time

Interview Thomas Tudoux

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I n s o m n i e , b l a c k s t o n e o n p a p e r, 3 2 x 3 2 c m , 2 0 1 6

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Work Place Time

Interview Thomas Tudoux

work issue

I removed the slogans to stress the abstract visual message. They seem to represent our collective unconscious fear of today’s imperative of efficiency. N O US W here did you f ind the adver t s? Was it a c er t ain f i n d t h a t s p a r ke d t h e i d e a f o r I n s o m n i e?

Since I’ve been working on hyperactivity I have

been accumulating everything that’s speaking about it. I got the idea when I went through my collection years later. I think the interesting nature of these pictures is their strangeness. You don’t really understand directly what they are about. You can understand them in a lot of different ways. That’s also why I decided to recreate them with black stone crayon: to create an enigmatic shadowplay. I always display several pictures at the same time – Insomnie is a repertory – so the link of hyperactivity between all of them is stronger. NOUS With the influence of adver tisement, social media, p e r f o r m a n c e g o a l s , » w o r k« s e e m s t o t u r n i n t o a m o n s t e r. Instead of us exploring the potential of work as fulfillment, j o y,

inspiration,

often

causes

collapse.

soc iet y asks the r ight questions?

Society always argues: »There is no alternative!«.

We have to work all the time because we are all in competition and only the best will win. But, what seems important to me, and what is the subject of Insomnie, is to explain that this is only one way of thinking. Adverts, the media, the politicians feed this belief to us day after day, trying to use their rational arguments. It’s this rational argument that I would like to challenge with my work by speaking about our unconscious. ☞

you

think

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Two â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Work Place Time

Interview Thomas Tudoux

work issue

NOUS It almost seems like we’re losing track of the bigger picture. Ef ficiency has transformed what should be a tool i n t o t h e g o a l i t s e l f – o u r h a p p i n e s s . Yo u h a v e e x p l o r e d t h i s thought in your drawing De Ef ficatatis Victoria.

De Efficatatis Victoria ( = The Triumph of

Efficiency) is a drawing of a victorious procession. The main allegory ( = efficiency) on the cart is surrounded by six secondary allegories ( = hyperactive, contemporary people). It’s freely inspired by the late Renaissance artist Maarten Van Heemskerk (1498–1576), but you can find lots of big anachronisms in my drawing. The figures and their position are based on today’s caricatural, aesthetic criteria of American comics or Japanese manga. The moral which seems to be depicted is, in reality, the transcription of a Red Bull advert! In the 15th century, efficiency would have never been erected as the first value of society. It’s a creation of our contemporary world: De Efficatatis Victoria suggests that efficiency has replaced the religious promise of eternal life by offering us the consumption of eternity within our single existence. A successful life is a full-time life where the multiplication of experiences and the acceleration of our rhythm of life allow us to exhaust the possible. NOUS Do

you

think

we’ll

ever

reach

the

end

what ’s

p o s s i b l e? I t d o e s n’ t s e e m l i ke w e’l l eve r b e s a t i s f i e d w i t h what we’ve got.

I think the consumption of eternity is one of the

big ideas of modernity.

☞

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But through experimentation we see that every new experience leads us to the discovery of several other experiences. This means that the accumulation of experiences doesn’t allow us to be satisfied in our life, but on the contrary creates frustration… We don’t rise little by little, we always fall to a lower point: the acceleration of life’s rhythm doesn’t allow us to harmonise the time of the world with the time of life. From this disappointed hope, we can understand, in a way, the rise of interest in religion in our hypermodern world. Being efficient is good when it is just a tool, not the purpose of our work, even more so of our life. NOUS Do you think we could be more productive, or lead a b e t t e r l i f e i f w e’d s t a r t t o p l ay m o r e? B e a n t i - p r o d u c t i ve, leave room for possibilities?

Yes, I think the culture of efficiency totally

destroys the spirit of research and the possibility of creating different things. But there are counter-movements like »slow science«. They refuse having to explain in advance what they are going to find: it simply doesn’t work! Personally, I make a lot of sketches, conduct lots of tests, sometimes over the course of several months before starting new artwork. This might come as a surprise, but I’m not efficient at all. Although playing with »overwork«, my research needs slowness, for reflection and maturation. Hyperactivity is a place I want to explore, but not my way of working. ◎

work issue

T his inter view was conducted over the course of one month through the exchange of emails and pdf notes. T he outcome is a cut and paste work of words created in collaboration between the artist and NOUS. We wonder what this inter view would have looked like had we had the means to meet in person! T h o m a s Tu d o u x i s a F re n ch multi-disciplinary artist, cur rently based in Rennes, represented by galerie melanie Rio. Tu d o u xâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s res earch an d p ra c t i c e is fed by his interest in the relationship of work and hyperactivity. www.thomastudoux.f r

Two â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Work Place Time

Interview Thomas Tudoux

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work issue

Three A f t e r Wo r k A WORLD WITHOUT WORK CREASES ONE WORKING LIFE THE CURE OUT OF THE DEPTHS

Three â&#x20AC;&#x201D; After Work

Revolution, Deconstruction, & Empowerment

THREE.

Imagine! A life after work. A life without

work! Is it heaven, is it maybe hell? Work hours seemingly become longer, our wages lower, our work load heavier. We need a revolution, right? We need to stand up and realise that what we really need is time to live our life, instead of waiting for that magical moment of retirement â&#x20AC;&#x201D; at perhaps 65, when we're lucky. And then? Would we not still want to do things? When the first joy of being retired wears off, what do we want to do with our lives? After all these years, was it work, the very one we shook off happily every Friday afternoon, that kept us healthy? Kept us on track and gave us purpose?

This chapter will take you to utopian worlds, where a society has to realise that class is very real. We're thrown in the midst of a strike, but on the wrong side. We meet a retired nurse, a caring daughter and social worker. But above all, we will see how loyalty and purpose join hands in all of these stories. How our work can give us personal strength, how working communities build the foundation of society, and how work can become a cure rather than a cause of ill mental health.

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work issue

REVOLUTION, DECONSTRUCTION, & EMPOWERMENT

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work issue

WORDS SAUL BUSH

A Wo r l d W i t h o u t Wo r k

ARTWORK ATELIER MCCLANE

The first thing to go was Friday.

same with retail stores – restaurants

The world would be a more productive,

too. The immediate impact was a

efficient place if we did away with

huge success: work-satisfaction rates

this as a workday altogether. »who’s

skyrocketed, incidences of illness

got that thursday feeling?«:

and depression plummeted, and

ran the

headline of one national newspaper when the bill was officially ratified.

levels of productivity rose five-fold. The next thing to go was afternoons. A five year economic boom following

Who’s got that Thursday feeling?

the introduction of the three day weekend – not to mention the highest levels of national happiness on record – meant the government sought out other alternate methods

And with the three day weekend introduced, Sunday really did become

of leveraging productivity. The leading think tank group

the day of rest; the extra day allowing

came up with the idea of finishing

supermarkets to shut completely,

the working day at lunch time. ☞

Three — After Work

A World Without Work

114

115

They had carried out tests among

in the middle of the week; which

firms across several different

by this point was Tuesday and

sectors (including law, accounting,

Wednesday, leaving an eight hour

construction and marketing)

workweek consisting of Monday

and found that workers arrived

morning and Thursday morning.

more rested and eager to get their workload finished before 1pm. The most intriguing discovery, from the researchers’ point of view, was the correlation between subjects’ use

The Midweekend was introduced.

of social media and their ability to complete tasks within the available

Critics were quick to point out

four-hour morning. It appeared that

that the only benefactors from these

the subjects had grown so used to

new structures were those working

rapidly processing vast quantities of

in the private sector. Those working

information on social media that they

in the public sector, or in retail,

could apply this ability to scanning

weren’t receiving the many benefits

emails and prioritising tasks.

of only working eight hours a week.

And so Fridays and afternoons were

After all, crimes, fires and illnesses

struck off; the working week was

weren’t restricted to Mondays and

reduced from forty hours down to

Thursdays; people wanted coffee

sixteen. The Scandinavians led the way

and groceries constantly; and

in all of these improvements, of course.

schools couldn’t educate children in just eight hours a week.

It wasn’t too many years down the line that the Midweekend was

(On a side note: critics were also

introduced. The Midweekend was

quick to point out that the term

very similar to the weekend, a

Midweekend was a misnomer, since

two-day break, only it took place

it wasn’t the ’end’ to anything.

work issue

Surely Midweekbreak would be

Before long, floors seventeen and

a more apt term? But according

eighteen were alight with flames. The

to a focus group, Midweekbreak

call to the fire service was eventually

didn’t have the same ring to it, and

made by the mail room clerk, who may

the term Midweekend stuck.)

or may not have been making his daily mid-morning snack of Marmite on

A small token of balance was

toast shortly before the fire started.

offered when Wednesday joined Sunday as the »days of rest«, and retail workers had two guaranteed days off a week. But they still didn’t enjoy the hours of leisure that those

Please, hold the line.

working in the private sector did. That was when the divide began.

»Nine-nine-nine, what’s your emergency?« Came a

The divide was inevitable really. But all the researching and

soothing, female voice. »We need a fire engine – urgently.«

testing the government carried

The mail room clerk gasped down

out couldn’t have prepared them

the line. »We are at Commerce

for what was about to come.

Tower. The fire is spreading!«

It started when a fire broke out in a high-rise building in the city centre.

»Hold the line please. I’ll transfer you through.«

Most of the floors in the building were – ironically, it would later

The mail room clerk hopped from foot

appear – occupied by insurance firms.

to foot as he waited to be connected.

The cause of the fire was narrowed

How could this be taking so long?

down to a faulty toaster in the staff kitchen on the sixteenth floor. The entire building was evacuated.

»Hello, fire service.« A deep voice this time. ☞

Three — After Work

A World Without Work

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»Hi, I’m calling from Commerce

»I’m afraid we won’t be able

Tower. Floor sixteen is ablaze

to make it to Commerce Tower

and it looks like the fire is

until Saturday at nine am.«

spreading. We need several

»Saturday?! But today is Thursday.«

fire engines. Immediately.«

»That’s right, sir. I’m sure you’ve

»Is that Commerce Tower

got that Thursday feeling but our

on Corporation Street?« »Yes! That’s the one. Post code CM5 1TW« »The building with all the insurance brokers?« »Exactly!« The mail room clerk

hours of operation are nine till one, Tuesdays and Saturdays.« »But the fire is spreading up the building rapidly. By Saturday the building will be nothing but dust.« »Has the building been evacuated?«

snapped, gripping the phone

»Yes.«

tightly, wondering what was

»You’re sure? Everybody is out?«

up with all the questions.

»Yes. We’ve done a headcount.«

»Please hold.«

»Well then. There will be no injury, or loss of life. We will send

»Bloody hell.« The clerk growled

the troops over on Saturday to clear

through gritted teeth as he listened

the debris. We’re sure insurance

to the sound of polyphonic Chopin.

will take care of the rest.«

He continued bouncing

The line went dead.

from foot to foot. The mail room clerk looked at The digital music ended,

his phone. He was convinced

signalling the sound of the line

he’d heard suppressed laughter

clicking back. »You still there?«

in that final sentence.

»The entire building is going up in flames. Of course I’m still here.« The clerk replied, exasperated.

And from then on the divide between the private and public sector widened.

work issue

In retaliation to the private sector’s

»private sector swindles public

eight-hour work week the public

out of millions«:

sector would only help their private

of one national newspaper.

counterparts during an allotted eight-hour window themselves.

ran the headline

»…no change there then.« Murmured a public sector worker as she leafed through the paper

No change there then!

to read more on page five. »emergency services and education failing«:

ran the headline of

another national newspaper on the very same day.

Police officers would happily

»…no change there then.« Murmured

investigate a burglary that took

a private sector work as he skipped

place at a local library at midnight

on to page seven to read more.

but would not investigate a crime at, say, a car manufacturer

The think tank group needed to

until the available Tuesday or

find a way to repair the damage they

Saturday. Likewise, the private

had caused. It looked like the more

sector would be equally pernicious

they intervened the more they ended

in providing their services to

up making things worse. They had

someone from the public sector.

reduced average working hours from

But, like many groups of adversaries,

forty down to eight; on a graph, the

the bonds from within the two

result was a bell-curve – the success

camps grew stronger as they united

of the tinkering had peaked a long

against a common enemy.

time ago. But surely it would be

It was back to the drawing

impossible to now bump the hours

board for the think tank group.

back up? There was no going back

The constant reduction of work

from here. How could they resolve

hours had caused mayhem.

the private versus public divide? ☞

Three — After Work

A World Without Work

After several algorithms and projections were mocked up, the

The newest member of the think tank group declared.

think tank group realised there would be only one solution to prevent the impending civil war.

»It’s the only option. If things carry on as they are we’ll witness anarchy.« said the meeting secretary.

The solution was simple: a world without work.

The room sat in more silence. The only noise to be heard was a tinny whining

They didn’t know how it was going

sound from the air conditioning.

to look practically. They had spent

The smoothly rotating second hand

the previous forty years distracting

of the large Rolex clock on the wall

the public with celebrity news stories,

wasn’t even making a sound.

sports, and advertising unnecessary products with short lifespans. Millions of people had invested

The chairman was the first to break the silence. »Our studies have shown

millions of dollars on stocks and

that ninety-five per cent of people

trades. It would now be difficult to

are capable of doing any given job

explain to the public that the flow of

from the moment they are born; office

the stock market was random at best.

worker, managerial roles, CEO, you

The think tank group sat around

name it: ninety-five per cent of people

a vast, polished oak table in a dimly

can do it.« He looked around the table.

lit room in silence. Occasionally, one

»The main variables of what people

member would look up, open their

end up doing are circumstance and

mouth, about to say something,

education. People have survived

and then look back down.

on this planet for thousands of years; if we remove the moniker of

»This is impossible. The infrastructure is too big.«

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job titles then we also remove the private versus public divide.«

work issue

The dimly lit room shone a little

»That’s right my friends. We are going

brighter. The chairman sensed one of

to pitch a world without work to the

his moments of brilliance arriving. But

public as a utopian-like existence

still, he thought to himself with glee,

where people return to nature, learn

nobody could do my job. The chairman

how to harvest vegetables and cook

couldn’t tell whether the increased glow and clarity of the room was down to his wise words or the energy saving lightbulb finally kicking in. He

But what if it fails?

accepted it was probably the latter. As conversation finally began

food, and a place where peoples’ minds

to flow around the large wooden

and bodies can re-synchronise with

table the initial stages for a world

the seasonal rhythms of nature.«

without work were formulated. The chairman beamed as the sound »For decades now, we’ve let

of excited chatter rippled around

advertising and deforestation

the table. Ideas spilled out of the

dominate our every decision.«

animated figures around the table.

The chairman announced.

Notes were furiously scribbled.

»We need to change tactics in order to maintain control.«

»But what if it fails?« The newest member of the think tank interjected, like pulling a TV plug out its socket.

There were nods around the table like

»Well, if all else fails,« said the

bobblehead toys. The thought occurred

chairman, looking around the

to the chairman that people never

room once more, »well, we can

really challenged him on anything, but

always launch a new smart phone

he suppressed that idea and carried on.

in time for Black Friday.« ◎

Three — After Work

A World Without Work

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Creases WORDS JOSH DAVIES

ILLUSTRATION JENNIFER DIONISIO

»Hatred is a strong word and you may get people that say there was hatred on the picket line, but there was certainly masses of animosity. Battle lines were drawn and that was it. T he only weapon that the working man has got is to withdraw t h e i r l a b o u r, s o I t a k e a v e r y d i m v i e w o f p e o p l e c r o s s i n g p i c k e t lines.« — Les Raine, a str iker dur ing the 1984–5 Miners’ Str ike, inter vie wed in »T he Independent«, 7th March 2 0 09

»We were meant to be so serious.

The scab’s smile grew broader by

Showing no emotion, not making the

the day. No longer sure of what was

slightest movement that could be

natural and what was practiced he

seen as doing something extra. But

sunk into it. His form softened: he was

inside you could tell everyone was

clay, dough, a puppet. There would be

just dying to laugh.« – anonymous

moments – close-eyed, breath held, in

participant in the strike that might

empty lifts or staircases – where he

have been,

would rest: formless, slack, waiting

interviewed for »The Quiet

Next Time: Words from the Strikers

for the smile to take hold of him

One Year On« (awaiting publication)

again, to guide him through crowded rooms and grey streets; customers, bosses, administrators and those yet to reveal themselves; languid strikers and other grinning scabs. ☞

Three — After Work Creases

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122

At the most immediately apparent level, the smile, of course, centred on his face: stretched lips and white teeth were joined by a widening of the eyes

Shrug, grasp, shake, push, pull!

that whilst barely measurable was certainly noticeable. This widening of the eyes was essential to the assertion of the affable diligence that was the smile’s signature and was accompanied itself by a host of minute facial gestures that could be summed up as a kind of malleability. One in which the rearrangement of lids, brows, lips and cheeks would communicate the appropriate level of shock, warmth, empathy or interest that was required over the course of each day.

It shifted the angles of his feet, performing constantly an invisible shuffled dance, laying at his foundation a geometry of eager, ready servitude. It was with his arms that the smile was most creative, they portrayed a grace as well as a practicality, that would move to bring the scab into and then out of frame; point, shrug, grasp, shake, push, pull – if you could only see the scab’s arms and hands and nothing else you’d see a whirl of repositioning,

The smile ran its course downwards.

but part of the beauty of the smile’s choreography lay in the way that this frenzy would go on largely unnoticed as it dragged the scab through the motions of his routine.

The smile ran its course downwards, shifting the scab’s spine as it went, ensuring his vertebrae were regimented in such a way as to express a state of alert as well as ease.

Three — After Work Creases

His whole body then was the site of the smile’s performance but as the strike had gone on he was increasingly feeling signs of wear.

123

work issue

He was used to the mental fatigue,

found in them a certain rhythm,

even though it was something that

raising him to heights of nervous

had increased of late, but he wasn’t

energy and lulling him into a languid

used to its physical manifestations: the

resignation, a long, drawn out sigh

soreness of his feet, the tightness in his

which would eventually end in sleep.

shoulders, and, above all, the burning

Whilst he was swayed back and

ache he felt in the muscles of his face.

forth by this rhythm he clung to the thing that steadied him, thoughts that

As the strike had gone on the smile

had grown over the weeks: his hatred

had required of his gesticulations

of the strike, the strikers, the things

and expressions something greater,

they were putting him through.

something that at its finest could be said to be an intensity or a nuance, but which occasionally but increasingly strayed into a kind of exuberance or flamboyance – something that

Nobody could say when it started.

brought him anxiety as well as an increased awareness of the tension in his cheeks and brow.

The strike wasn’t like any that had come before it. If it was, the scab told

He would return home each day

himself, he might have supported

exhausted, stung by rashes of sweat,

it. No union had called it, nobody

reeling from the waves of anxiety that

could say when it started, and its

rolled over him, forcing recollections

demands were anybody’s guess.

of the day’s interactions. The memories

It had no leaders to speak for it

would at first play back randomly,

on the TV, no placards that bore its

prompted by a certain arrangement

slogans and, indeed, it had no slogans.

of objects or a figure of speech, but over the course of his free time he

☞

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125

At the very beginning, when

The world where threats as grievous

discussing it wasn’t a faux pas, many

as the strike could be treated with such

people joked about whether it was

flippancy was now long gone, a barely

really happening at all. Critics left

believable nostalgic ideal – nauseating.

and right saw it as a kind of harmless phase that would pass without causing

On the first day nobody noticed,

much disruption, the kind of easily

or if they did they noticed the wrong

mockable phenomenon that was

thing. Up and down the country

fodder for PhDs and topical gags.

people had slightly worse days than usual: greetings went unanswered,

A barely believable nostalgic ideal.

doors fell back un-held, In offices and shops, restaurants and call centres, airports and pubs the smatterings of inconveniences and annoyances felt by one person or another built up into a general stiffness

The scab had joined in those

which, a week or so in, produced

discussions with all the enthusiasm

a nervous panic as the strike’s

he now pulled together for his

opponents learned of its existence.

performances at work, joking about the strike had even become part of his routines – a jocular way of reassuring customers, a means of generating rapport with his colleagues.

Generational divide lack of shared vision

The idea that he, mere weeks ago, would have had such interactions was now something abhorrent, a

This nervousness brought

shameful reminder of the naivety that

about a shift in the way

he – and everyone – had been guilty

things were talked about.

of and that had let things get so far.

Three — After Work Creases

work issue

The story of the country’s malaise,

heightening of the rhetoric and

generational divides and a lack of

feared it was producing the opposite

shared vision – already widely heard

of its intended effect. It painted

and spoken – came ever more to the

the strikers out to be every type of

fore. As the realisation dawned that

disaffected person imaginable and

what was happening wasn’t an entirely

so made the strike seem like the

passive process the story began to

logical action of anybody who felt at

be populated by an ensemble of

all disaffected. What was worse was

ghosts from distant decades, figures

that it gave the strikers, who hadn’t

intended to demonstrate at once the

made a single demand or appointed

ludicrousness of what was occurring

a single spokesperson, free publicity,

as well as its danger. The strikers –

making the strike’s arguments for it

and by now that is what they were

and then dismissing them on such

being called – were indulgent hippies,

ridiculous terms that it was hard not

obtuse surrealists, angsty wastrels,

to feel sympathy for the strikers.

firebrand Bolsheviks. Some took a moralising route and scolded them

And so things went quiet.

as spoilsports, slackers or misfits intent on causing a fuss for nothing. Others – perhaps because they believed it, perhaps from the belief that a sharp escalation of language

And so things went quiet.

would burst the strike’s bubble – attempted to rally the country together with that mix of paranoia

Criticism, mockery, knowing

and jingoism that had worked so well

chiding all ceased as quickly, and

in the past. To them the strikers were

with as little forewarning as the

saboteurs, enemies within, traitors.

strike had appeared. The opponents of the strike – our scab, the other scabs

But none of the language, none of

and their ideologues – all stopped

the real or imagined characterisations

talking at once and went on with

worked in weakening the strike.

their lives as best they could. ☞

Some in more liberal circles – but in conservative ones too – saw the

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127

They ignored the strike, found ways

continued defiance brought back to

around it, treated it as if it were an

him all the nausea, those aches and

unfortunate spell of weather or a mild

pains of a body in performance that

toothache. When first employing

he had hoped he’d seen the back of.

this passive resistance the scab had

Their detachment, their refusal to

patted himself on the back for his

be engaged by his deft manoeuvring

political nous. He was impressed

pulled him away from himself.

with both his cunning and with the

Once more he felt the strains as his

moral high ground he assumed with

body contorted into a grimace.

his refusal to let the strike get in the way of his life. He would drift

To the nightly waves of panic were

off to sleep more contented than he

added pangs of urgent anger, a need to

had been in weeks, months maybe.

act. But how? Fantasies of disruption flashed through his head. He saw the scenes when he closed his eyes, felt

The pains of a body in performance.

the shudders of anger in his chest and his hands, tears welled and he felt a constriction in his throat that choked his speech. He would disregard the etiquette that had taken root since

This didn’t last. The scab tried

the strike’s entrenchment. He would

to hold his head held high but he

shout at them, scream, take them by

couldn’t help but see the strikers from

the shoulders, shake them and explain

the corner of his eye: malevolent,

their foolishness, plead with them to

uncaring, performing their duties

stop. He would try to show them what

with such disinterest that they

they had done to him, the anguish of

seemed arduous and unnatural.

carrying on, the self-consciousness.

He carried on walking past, wearing imaginary blinkers, but the strikers’

Three — After Work Creases

work issue

These thoughts took more violent

At a certain point the realisation

forms, and attacked him with more

that had been lurking on his journey

violence, the more time went on, as

took form: he would not now be able

though goaded by his doubts over his

to laugh, to perform, he doubted

ability to get through to the strikers.

his ability even to speak. He was no longer able to muster the terror this would once have brought him.

He was relaxed but exhausted.

He walked up the stairs resigned, comfortable, another striker. When someone nodded good morning he froze. He felt a weakness in

One sleepless morning the scab

his stomach, his hands and his knees.

woke up without his usual jolt of

Words would not form. The light

nervous energy. He felt a calm sadness

became too bright and the noise too

and wondered for a while whether

loud. His whole body communicated to

he would get out of bed, whether

him that it didn’t know what to do or

he’d call in sick or just not turn up

if it had the strength to act. The smiles

to work at all. Eventually he got up,

on the faces of his workmates told him

went through his morning routines

that the strike was over, defeated. ◎

and ended up at work. His anxiety had subsided, the rush of people and information on his commute no longer seemed to drive through and propel him. Instead he felt detached, nudged and bumped by the things around him. He was relaxed but exhausted, no longer able to feel the smile’s grip working through him as before.

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129

Three â&#x20AC;&#x201D; After Work One Working Life

work issue

Gloria Pasotti

gloriapasotti.it

GAYNOR PETTITT

WORDS

130

One Wo r k i n g Life

I had lived the days of revolution in joy and happiness. Head shaved, T he life stor y of a punk perfectly fitting into a system of compassion, care & positivity. T he

black eye liner and ripped jeans. I danced with the Damned, believing a New Rose was going to happen, a New England was being created. Walking

work experience of

into a nursesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; home with a matron

a m o t h e r, a n u r s e ,

on guard was a minor challenge; at

a f ight e r.

least I had made it to the city with a paid job and somewhere to sleep. The job ahead was nursing. Four years of training and then, as my Mom had said, a job for life.

131

work issue

Nursing was viewed as a service

This didn’t go down well and I had to

in the 1970s, a mini culture of

explain to matron why I had no hair.

beliefs, rules and expectations of

I was under scrutiny and decided to

behaviour. I knew I was going to

prove everybody wrong and be the

have to compromise rebellion and

best nurse I possibly could. Work

fit in. Ironically it was that very

was repetitive and allocated by tasks

questioning of the status quo that

in the early years. This mirrored the

helped me survive this job. It had

hospital culture, only experienced

not been a calling, nor a need to do

nurses were allowed to do the

good. It was the need never to be

dressings. A nursing hierarchy copying

bored or find work dull that made

a medical authoritarian model.

me choose nursing. The rotas were called off duty, reminding us that we were doing a service to mankind. I had not appreciated how moving

I secretly thought it was ridiculous. However, I grew to respect the senior sisters who had given their lives to

from teenage wildness into this world

nursing. They had never been allowed

would fulfil and, at times, save my life.

to marry. The hospital was their home

We had white hats; every year

and family. They knew so much about their patients and what to do when

It would fulfil & at times save my life.

something went wrong. They had found something very fulfilling in their lives, and I wanted to copy them. We worked shifts, often 8 nights in a row a month. On one of my first

we survived we had a blue stripe.

shifts I was asked to sit all night with

The hairgrips had to be white too.

an elderly man who was dying. »Hold

It was difficult to use hairgrips

his hand and say kind things to him,

with no hair, so I tried sellotape.

nurse« they said. He died during the night, and I took care of him. ☞

Three — After Work One Working Life

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133

As I walked home I went to a phone

No day was ever the same. I mostly

box and phoned home. When Mom

looked forward to going to work. I

answered I burst into tears. I was then

wanted to go to work, to face a new

alright. In a hospital you cope, you

challenge, a new experience. I saw life,

become someone else. It’s not until you

you see in all its sadness, happiness

leave that environment that the reality

and, sometimes, its darkness. Nursing

of the work can affect you, that the

was like a story called »Life«. I

emotions and release can occur. When

walked into it and touched it every

you are working with sadness and grief

working day. There was a shortage of

it’s even sometimes a surprise when

trained children’s nurses, so I had job

you leave that environment to see that

security and became a ward sister.

the world has just simply carried on.

I taught students how to nurse, and this became equally fulfilling.

So I gave up Saturday nights and weekends, returning home to missed parties, missed concerts, and I lost some friends. I didn’t really see this as a loss. I felt I had grown up a

We lost an entire workforce overnight.

little. When you work shifts it has an unusual effect on your life balance. To have a weekend free made me even

Nursing moved into a profession

more determined to do something

in the 1980s onwards. It moved from

exciting, to party a bit harder in my

nursing schools, where the work was

free time. Spare time was something

seen as a labour, to institutions of

I came to appreciate far more so than

higher education. This was not without

I would have done in other jobs. The

its difficulties. We lost an entire

punk lived on. I qualified and there

workforce overnight. The students

was a job straight away. I worked as a

were to be supernumerary. You can

children’s nurse caring for under fives.

argue what defines a profession:

work issue

A qualification? A body of knowledge? A professional body you are accountable too. Change had been inevitable from the years when the

We needed two incomes to live.

colour of my hairgrips was checked. There was something special, though, I learnt from those days. The belonging

When they were unwell themselves

to something good and meaningful.

I tried to be just their Mom, but

The notion that you covered shifts

it was hard to leave work outside

for your colleagues if they were sick.

my house. The nurse would either

Dedication to work was expected.

dramatically overreact if they were

There was an ethos that you got in

ill or spectacularly under react and

at all costs because a ward full of

nurse them at home. Getting the

patients needed you. Even if I had been

balance wasn’t always easy. They are

out night-clubbing until the early

grown men now. I hope they were

hours, I turned up for the early shift!

inspired by my work. I hope they

The new generation of students were

didn’t miss me too much. I hope

not raised in this culture; some were

they understood. As most families

simply ill equipped for professional

we needed two incomes to live. To

life. Studying research methods and

give the children a decent life.

audits, nursing seemed to lose what we

When the children were young boys

once had called basic care. Ironically,

I lost my partner. I sunk into a dark

as standards became questioned there

hole of sadness and despair. I couldn’t

was a call to bring back matrons.

face going to work. I sat at home for

I managed to work and raise

six weeks trying to eat and be normal

two boys. Working shifts actually

for my boys. One GP I visited said

helped with as the boys could

something to me about my work. »Do

spend less time in child care

you realise,« she said, »how special

settings and stay at home more.

and how prestigious your job is. ☞

Three — After Work One Working Life

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135

That badge you have means that you

that I didn’t have to work a weekend!

could work anywhere in the world.«

It was a challenging and new role.

So I found my hospital badge and

It appealed to the old punk in me. It

placed it on the fireplace to remember

raised eyebrows and questioned the

what she had said. It had a profound

status quo. I liked that. I retired early,

effect on my sunken self-esteem. So

as the pension would be enough.

I returned to work, the words staying with me, rallying me on to a new life

This was a job that had enriched my

as a single parent. I probably worked

life. I hadn’t had to work for a business

a little too hard then to prove to

company to make money. I had been

everyone I was alright. My job helped

tired and exhausted many times,

me recover and regain my confidence.

falling asleep on buses home. I had seen great sadness and children die. I remember all of them. The children

It was a punk nurse thing to do.

who were ill all of their lives, and their families and friends. I will remember all those nurses I worked with and how we cared for each other too. I will remember the challenge of the unknown and the times when shifts

Nursing today has become quite

were hard. It was a punk nurse thing

medicalised, and the nurse’s role

to do. I was lucky. I had the best job

overlaps with the traditional

in the world that took away some of

doctor role. This can have its

my life, but showed me life too. It

burdens as you inevitably work

reminded me to grab every minute

carrying out a dual role.

and enjoy this one life we all have. ◎

I worked in a role like this for 6 years, running clinics. The shift-work ended, and it took me 6 months to remember

work issue

Three â&#x20AC;&#x201D; After Work Gloria Pasotti

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137

Work can challenge us in many ways. Sometimes it can even be the cure to illness. Work can trigger memories and remind us of who we once were or could be.

I doubt there’s anyone who, at one

The Cure WORDS ELLEN DENTON

POLAROIDS HENRI BADARÖH

facility here where I could be close to

time or another, hasn’t thought about

him, he was in the advanced stages

how nice it might be to not have to

of the kind of dementia often seen

work and simply lead of life of leisure.

in people getting well on in years.

It wasn’t that I didn’t recognize the importance of work in breeding confidence, dignity, and independence, but everyone likes to daydream once in awhile, imagining their own version

He was becoming out of conol.

of delightful idleness in some tropical Shangri-la. I never realized however,

He’d had declined beyond the

just how much doing good, honest

abilities of the caretaker he had in

work influenced ones mental condition

New York to tend to him, as he was

and overall sanity until I saw its effect

becoming more and more out of

on someone with severe dementia.

control and aggressive in his behavior, and while he may have been of

When I brought my father, who was

diminishing mental capacity, even

in his eighties, to California from New

in his eighties, he was a big man

York to place him in an assisted living

and could still pack quite a wallop. ☞

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The Cure

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He was becoming dangerous to himself and others. I had him in my home for several

An astonishing change

days while sorting out the assisted living facility arrangements and I doubt my husband and I slept more

During this time, something amazing

than a few hours during that time. He

happened. He was sitting in our family

needed to be watched constantly. He

room muttering and reaching out to

would attempt to leave the house

someone or something in the space

and walk out into the middle of the

in front of him. I came into the room

street, or turn on all the stove burners

awkwardly carrying a bunch of files

to maximum flame and walk away.

and other paraphernalia from my home office so that I could keep an

When he wasn’t doing something

eye on him while I worked. I ended up

that could get either himself or us

dropping most of what I was carrying,

killed, or being threateningly hostile,

scattering papers across the floor.

he would often stand in the middle

It was as though he had woken up

of the room talking to imaginary

from a dream. He suddenly looked

people in the ceiling and walls, or

and acted the way he had before the

else just sit there looking dazed.

dementia had sunk its teeth into him.

Dangerous things like knives or expensive, breakable items like laptop

The dazed, »not-there« look he

computers all had to be secured

usually had in his eyes cleared away

where he couldn’t get to them.

and he hurried to help me pick everything up, while we engaged in normal, rational conversation. ☞

Three — After Work

The Cure

When he saw I needed help with

If even someone in my father’s

something, he was able to swim

condition could rise above it to

up out of the mental muck he was

do something constructive, and if

now normally lost in, and break

simple work could bring a person in

through the surface of it to sanity.

that state, however briefly, into the present and to a restored state of sanity, imagine what it could do, and is doing, for »normal« folk like us!

The Universal Cure

Memories to Keep For the remainder of the time he was at the house, I was often able to bring back this state by putting my hand firmly on his shoulder and

While my father was still alive, he

saying »Dad, I need your help«, and

had progressed in his illness beyond

giving him some simple tasks to do.

the ability to record the events of his

While doing the work, he looked and

life for posterity, but I haven’t. Those

sounded as rational as anyone else.

instances of work induced recovery were the last rational moments he had

Simple work enabled this man,

in life. I kept a book where I wrote

however briefly, to recover something

about things relating to his life, and

he had long ago lost. Instead of being

this – a piece of his story, has now

sunk into the bleakness of a failing

been placed lovingly within it. ◎

mind, he was able to reach out into the environment and do something useful, as he had done for most of his life, having always been an excellent and hard working provider for his family.

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The Cure

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WORDS JEFF MORGAN

ILLUSTRATION VOID COLLECTIVE

Over-work can make us ill,

Jeff Morgan takes us on a

but working also seems

stroll to Flanders Fields

to be an essential part

and back to the modern day

of o ur hum an b eh a v io ur.

refugee cr isis to shine a light

Building, creating, growing

on work as a catalyst for

emotionally, economically,

healthy living.

or intellectually is in our nature.

Out of the Depths The game-changing Dutch painter

As far back as the 13th century, Rumi,

Vincent van Gogh (unfairly famous

the Persian poet and Sufi mystic, had

for severing his ear in a state of

a rather different take. He believed,

heightened emotion) wrote to his

»Everyone has been made for some

beloved brother Theo, »I put my heart

particular work and the desire for that

and soul into my work and have lost

work has been put into every heart.«

my mind in the process«.

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Eleanor Roosevelt, who suffered

had been requisitioned by the Army

several severe depressive episodes

during World War I. Both psychiatrists

during a life of public service and

broke the mould in dealing with a

private support for her President

very serious condition that was as yet

husband, found recourse in her own

unrecognised as Post Traumatic Stress

social work.

Disorder. At their initiative, soldiers on sick leave from the Front were engaged in meaningful daily activity that

The best way to pull yourself out.

simulated the rhythms and outputs of regular work and, within safe settings, were encouraged to talk about and relive their frightful experiences in the trenches.

Towards the end of her life she recorded, »My experience has been

Dr Brock, in particular, would insist

that work is almost the best way to

on the men rising early for walks in the

pull oneself out of the depths.«

extensive grounds of the establishment to be followed by a schedule of

Siegfried Sassoon, Robert Graves

physical, mental and self-improving

and Wilfred Owen were all patients

tasks paced throughout a »normal

at the Craiglockhart War Hospital

working day«. The hotel’s existing

where they were treated by Dr William

facilities for lawn tennis, badminton,

Halse Rivers and Dr A. J. Brock. These

golf and swimming were drawn upon

innovative medical officers introduced

to stretch the mens’ recuperating

Ergotherapy, the »working cure«

bodies whilst essay writing, historical

and Psychotherapy, the »talking

research, formal debates, amateur

cure« into the management of shell-

dramatics and the publication of an

shocked officers housed at a former

in-house magazine, »The Hydra«, were

Hydropathic Spa in Edinburgh, which

compulsory activities to re-focus their distracted minds. ☞

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Carpentry, painting & decorating,

and dependency on alcohol, drugs or

model yacht making, gardening and

risky behaviours. It is equally evident

allotment work filled the remainder of

that satisfaction in one’s gainful

their waking hours.

employment can nurture meaning, purpose and self-worth for those

The results of these combined

racked by anger, guilt, fear, shame, low

therapies were remarkable but Dr

mood, pervasive or intrusive thoughts

Rivers and Dr Brock were deeply

and obsessive temptations.

troubled by the reality that those they helped in these ways were merely being made ready to return to Flanders Fields.

Loss of mastery over one's destiny

Nonetheless, this bold experiment laid the foundation for the use of work as a therapeutic technique in the

The most useful definition of stress

management of mental ill health in

that I have developed over the years is

Britain during the subsequent decades.

»loss of mastery over one’s destiny«. Nowhere is that more real than for those who find themselves either

A balanced view of work and wellbeing

over-loaded or under-loaded in their working lives. The concept of overload is well understood but, from my observations, folk who feel that their innate talents, know-how or

My own professional experience

skills are neither fully utilised nor

in Occupational Medicine and

valued by supervisors or colleagues

Community Psychiatry over many

can suffer great mental anguish.

years has led me, I trust, to a balanced

That daily poverty of recognition

view of the interplay of work and

gradually wears down their sense of

mental wellbeing. It is clear that stress

identity and personal significance,

in the workplace can be the source

with repercussions far beyond the

of overwhelming anxiety, depression

workplace.

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Helping such individuals to realise

I can imagine that the joy of playing

their full potential has been one

an appreciated role in a working

of the most important elements in

team was felt as keenly by a neolithic

maintaining my own job satisfaction.

hunter out on his first expedition

I have attempted to achieve this

with the community’s elders as it

by encouraging employers, line

is by a young IT specialist called in

managers and HR advisers to be

by the company boss to join a new

more imaginative in the deployment

»blue sky« discussion group. This is

and development of their staff and,

the stuff of personal development

sometimes, by arguing for the re-

through validation and, what, after

organisation of the productive or

all, underpins the healthy growth of

administrative process itself.

individuals and communities. I have long envisioned working

Man is a tribal species

organisations as »patients« in their own rights. This can be a helpful way of better understanding and managing issues that impact the mental health of individual workers and groups

Man is a tribal species and, thus, the

of workers alike. Businesses, public

instinct to belong to a definable group

services, factories, restaurants,

is basic to almost everyone of us in one

farms and charities have analagous

form or another. Hence we witness the

anatomical and physiological

unfailing popularity of team sports,

functions. They are conceived, are

political and religious movements,

oft-times nurtured in the wombs of

fanzines, football crowds, ashrams,

business start-ups, grow quickly before

squats, open mike sessions, social

passing into a rebellious adolescence,

networks and chatrooms.

mature ever so sensibly, expand, slow down and move at different speeds to a final resting place. ☞

Three — After Work Out of the Depths

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Their central nervous systems

origins of their mental challenges may

plan and direct more effective

well arise from the ill health or disease

production, cutting-edge R & D, clever

of the organisation itself. Thus they

tax mitigation and careful Health

become re-orientated to seek the most

& Safety controls. Their gastro-

useful resources and routes to meet

intestinal systems ingest raw materials

these challenges from an altogether

as new concepts, then digest and

different position. They can then look

incorporate these, or else regurgitate

for change at the institutional as much

and excrete them. Their peripheral

as at the personal level.

nervous systems should communicate information to all levels of the working body but often fail to reach parts beyond blockages or diversions. Their respiratory systems inhale fuel, (both corporeal and intellectual), whilst

Replacement of work by increased leisure

exhaling unwanted by-products to the physical and societal environment. Their reproductive systems grow new

A few decades ago, the zeitgeist

departments, diversify into novel

seemed to be the liberation of mankind

products and services, establish

from toil by the introduction of

satellite businesses, engulf other

new technology and the consequent

organisations into multinational

replacement of work by increased

giants or else simply implode, with or

leisure. The un-examined expectation

without a lasting legacy.

was that mankind would find peace and happiness thereby.

When stressed or depressed workers

History shows repeatedly that

come to see that they are often but

man has rarely benefitted from

small cogs in much bigger wheels

unalloyed leisure and he will

they begin to appreciate that the true

usually find occupation for his idle â&#x2DC;&#x17E;

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Three â&#x20AC;&#x201D; After Work Out of the Depths

hands which can, indeed, be locally

of daily living« rather than upon

or internationally detrimental to

encouraging creative expression.

peace and happiness. The effect of

Funding cuts have recently eaten

automation on the personal and social

deeply into these provisions by the

development prospects of so-called

public sector. Innovative art, music,

»blue collar« workers has become all

creative writing and performance

too evident. A prescient concern is that

work can still be found in the private

advances in artificial intelligence will

and voluntary sectors to aid recovery

shortly make obsolete the reflective

and to maintain emotional and

and judgmental faculties of the

psychological wellbeing. Indeed, I have

professional classes; doctors, lawyers,

been involved in programmes where

engineers, teachers, artists and

Arts Therapies have been prescribed

philosophers. One wonders what the

by GPs as a supplement to or, ideally

mental health consequences will be of

as a substitute for, tranquillisers and

all those wasted years of study and the

antidepressants. Notable benefit has

thwarted implementation of hard-won

been reported by the patients. Their

capacity.

appreciation arose as much from feeling valued members of working teams as from reducing symptoms

»Skills of daily living«

through the expressive creation of beautiful objects when working individually. I would therefore contend that, from time immemorial, meaningful

At present, most NHS mental

work has been a crucial element in

health services offer some degree

promoting and sustaining mental

of occupational therapy. This is

health.

usually based on facilitating »skills

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Where mental health has broken

Here he is destitute, sofa surfing or

down, we are accepting nowadays

sleeping on the streets. Worst of all his

that meaningful work can be one of

sufferings are the 8 long years without

the most effective therapeutic tools in

purposeful occupation. In the UK,

regaining balance and purpose in life.

those seeking sanctuary are effectively prohibited from work.

There is joy in work

It can, perhaps, only be imagined to what state of mind this highly intelligent and potentially useful member of our society had been reduced by that very denial of a basic

Henry Ford once said, »There is joy

instinct. He is, of course, only one of

in work. Indeed there is no happiness

a multitude across the world whose

except in the realisation that we have

cry for personal fulfilment through

accomplished something.«

work goes unheeded and whose mental welfare can be compromised thereby.

I recall a destitute asylum seeker in

I believe it falls upon each of us to

a northern British city who was still

simply understand and to help where

struggling with the trauma of rape

we can. ◎

and torture before fleeing the Congo. He now found himself waiting for the Home Office to decide if he could have any future at all in this country. A university-qualified social worker, he rescued from militias in the forests child soldiers they had abducted, before he was captured by one of these groups.

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Fo u r New Beginnings FORMALITIES FOXTROT COMEDY CLUB THE HOT DOG STALL A GAME OF SNAKES AND LADDERS

Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings

Restart, Dreams, & Confidence

FOUR.

Have you ever resigned? Have you ever made

a fresh start, on your own terms, because you didn't feel like yourself anymore? Have you ever been scared to death to cut loose, but done it anyway? Our last chapter will remind us of our courage. It highlights our ability to decide whether to stay on this road or take the next turn. It doesn't look like there'll be a bench to rest on for a while. Yes, yes, it's a cobbly mess but â&#x20AC;&#x201C; what the heck â&#x20AC;&#x201C; it's what feels right.

If we manage to hold on to the dreams we've been carrying all this way from those early days, it's never too late to start enjoying the journey. It's never too late to change the game, the snake's never taken us too far down from where a ladder couldn't let us climb back up again.

We hope this can be a reminder. We don't have to be perfect, we make mistakes, and this is the best thing that could have ever happened to us: we are humans, we have dreams, and we will never give up believing in this younger version of us, that keeps on getting up, despite all bloody bruises.

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RESTART, DREAMS, & CONFIDENCE

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Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings Formalities

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Fo r m a l i t i e s WORDS EMILY OLDFIELD

ARTWORK MEL WHEELER

I resign Let this paper prove testament Let it flicker like the parchment of eyelid For no flame can match the iris Brooding its isolation. Why are there two of them? I captivate them both Give the body to assembly The mind to hope â&#x20AC;&#x201D; It will find use for them.

Excuse the mess The ash which forms in a tear duct Caresses skin in an instant. The tongue flickers a signature The litmus of lover Slowly gains colour, a pigment Which confides â&#x20AC;&#x201C; It is over.

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I resign Let this be my closure The lips seal the envelope The cold slip of solder Like the tip of the finger Silencing speech. If this is industry Let me be weak Let me smoulder I resign Let this line on my cheek Be the border The signature keeps To the corners In a smile They believe to be mine And I speak I resign Roll over The pen Pierces the border For within The workday picture Each has the power To write. Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings Formalities

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Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings

Formalities

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Sometimes it's a long way to success in the

Fox t r o t Comedy Club

creative industry. Work is often sold under value and not seen as a full-on profession, but rather as a hobby. Fighting for our passions is a noble, but risky business, where endings can open new doors.

WORDS FRAZER TUDOR MACDONALD

S car y st uf f, b ut ne ve r

ILLUSTRATION LULU HEAL

I never asked to be this kind of

give up, r ight?

When you’re an artist you start

person. No matter where you’re

with nothing, and more often than

from, no matter how rich you

not you end with nothing, too. I’m

are, once you get up on a stage in

not asking for sympathy, by the

front of people you’re the same

way. I’m just asking for someone

as everybody else. And it doesn’t

to listen to me, to hear what I’m

matter if you’re a prince or a

saying. ☞

pauper – you have just as small a chance of being successful as all of the other hopefuls out there. Most people just find a job they love, and they apply for it. Artists don’t get that luxury.

Four — New Beginnings

Foxtrot Comedy Club

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163

Sympathise with me or don’t, but this is the story I want to tell:

»You know I need the other job.« »Well, I need people I can rely on, Lenka. It’s hard enough to get people

It’s after hours, and I’m sitting in

coming through that door out there

the back room of the Foxtrot Comedy

without good workers.« He points at

Club, Manchester. Mark is smoking a

the bar’s entrance.

cigarette with the window open. I can hear the buses roaring past.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Let me take you back a little. The last customer has left the bar I work at, and

You have to choose.

the deal is that I get to leave just as that happens. When I started working there, the boss said it was OK. Except he didn’t really mean it, because he’s a complete dick.

»Lenka, I’m telling you this because you’ve supported the club from the very beginning. You have to choose,« he tells me. I know what he’s talking about: I have two jobs. One of them

He said it was OK ...he didn't mean it.

is bar tending – it seems like the only jobs you can get these days are in pubs – and the other is stand up comedy.

»Lenka, reckon you clean up?« He

Mark pays me what he can, but it’s

says. I sigh. It’s not the first time this

pretty meagre.

has happened.

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I think about saying no, but I know he’ll probably fire me if I do. That can’t happen. I really need the money.

»Where have you been?« Mark asks. »I’m sorry, they kept me late in the bar– « »Doesn’t matter, just get up there.« I get on the stage and pick up the

I really need the money.

microphone. The crowd is staring at me expectantly. I swallow and start my routine, and although I’m a little flustered at first, it goes pretty well. I’m hoping Mark won’t be too angry. I’m making the crowd laugh, after all.

»Sure,« I say. I grab the cleaning stuff

Obviously, he is.

and start working as quickly as I can. Maria, the only person who works

So there I am, sitting in the back

there that I’d consider a friend, gives

room, feeling guilty and Mark is

me a sympathetic look.

looking at me sternly. I have no

»Finish wiping down the bars, and

idea what to say, so I end up saying

I’ll do the rest. Don’t worry,« She

nothing at all. Mark takes a drag on

tells me. I thank her, and finish up as

his cigarette and stubs it out in the

quickly as possible.

ashtray next to his laptop. »I’m giving you another chance,« he

I walk into the Foxtrot Comedy Club at one-thirty in the morning, which is fifteen minutes later than I was supposed to start.

says. »Consider it an early Christmas present.« »I won’t let you down.« »One-am sharp.« He points a finger at me and pulls another cigarette out of his packet. ☞

Four — New Beginnings

Foxtrot Comedy Club

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165

»Sure.«

Neither is my brother. We’re all too

I smile at him and then leave Foxtrot.

busy. Who am I to judge her for doing

Outside, it’s raining heavily and

something which helps her deal with

I pull my hood over my head. A homeless guy is sitting in the entrance to an abandoned shop which has no protective shelter. His body is buried inside of a blue sleeping bag. »Any change?« He asks. I bury my hands into my pockets

life? I sit down on the couch opposite to her. »How’s the job search going?« I ask her. »Shit,« she says, and takes a swig of her wine.

even though I know I haven’t got any. It

»Any word from Dad?«

makes me feel guilty.

»What do you think?«

»Sorry,« I tell him, and then carry

I nod. There’s silence between us, but

on my way. There isn’t much I can

the TV is a good distraction. The Big

do. At the moment, I’m barely able to

Bang Theory is on, which I hate.

support myself, let alone Manchester’s

I decide to go to my room.

homeless population. I arrive at the bar at ten, opening time. The boss is already in the front,

I'm hardly ever at home these days.

surveying the customers. »Lenka, behind the bar,« he orders. I do as he says. It’s busy tonight, and there’s a group of people standing at the bar fighting to get to the front like animals. I try to

At home, my mum is watching TV

serve them in order.

and she has a bottle of wine. My dad is always away, working, and I’m hardly ever at home these days.

Eventually, the last one leaves, slamming the door behind him.

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I can still hear drunken jeers out on the street.

He doesn’t say anything. I turn to leave.

»Lenka, can you clean up?« The boss asks.

»If you walk through that door, don’t

»Actually, I really need to get away– «

even think about coming back here,«

»I don’t pay you to slink off early.

he shouts.

Come on.« »No, you pay me to serve drinks.« I put the final piece of change into the

»Whatever.« This time, it’s me slamming the door. ☞

till, and slam the drawer shot. »What?« He says. »I said you pay me to serve drinks. Can’t you get someone else to finish up?« »Not if you want to keep your job.« »Well, maybe I don’t.«

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I arrive at the Foxtrot twenty minutes before I’m supposed to be on stage. It’s pretty busy here, too. I walk over to the bar and Mark is there talking to Lewis, the new kid.

»Don’t worry. I know how much this place means to you,« I tell him. »Good. You all ready for your set?« »Yeah.« Lewis passes me a vodka shot. I

»Hey. How are you doing?« I say.

thank him with a nod of my head, and

»Lenka. Have you met Lewis?«

then drink it.

»We’ve been acquainted.«

»Great. Start in fifteen minutes?« Mark says.

I know how much this means to you.

»Sure.« The performance goes okay. A lot of people laugh, and Mark pays me the twenty quid I get for every performance I do. When I’m

»Good. Good. Listen, I just want to

done, I stick around for a bit, have

apologise for last night. I was in a bad

some drinks, and watch the other

mood, and it was wrong of me to make

performances. Every now and then, I

you choose between this place and

catch Lewis shooting awkward glances

your other job. You know, keeping this

at me, and think maybe he’s into me or

place busy is my problem. Not yours.«

something. After a while, I go home.

I try not to show how angry I am. God, why the fuck couldn’t he have told me that sooner, I’m thinking. For a few moments, I stay quiet and then I ask Lewis to get me a strong drink. I’m going to need it.

When I get there, my mum is still up and I can hear the TV blaring as usual. I go into the living room and take a seat on the couch. »How are you?« I say.

work issue

»Good,« she replies. There’s an awkward pause. She can tell by the look on my face that I’ve got bad news. »Well, spit it out,« she tells me. »I think I’m gonna have a bit of trouble paying the rent this month. I lost my job at the bar.«

It's after hours and I'm still sitting here

»Oh, Lenka. I hope it wasn’t so you can spend more time at that bloody Foxtrot.« »Well. No, not exactly. I –« »I can’t pay your share. You’ll have to find some way.« I sigh, and the silence descends again. She’s right: I will have to. »I’m going out,« I tell her. I step out into the street. I decided to go for a walk, and here I am. ◎

Four — New Beginnings

Foxtrot Comedy Club

jealousy, stress at work and a chap retiring from his fast food stall business are a game changer in this story of

job as a child? Was it unprestigious? Badly paid? Long hours? — but would that one have actually made you a happier person?

city, though the rest of us did.

he refused—with a pitying laugh—to call a

New York City and our hometown, a place

could make such a claim. All he knew was

the rest of the planet, so I wondered how he

was up to professional standards.«

»No, no. It’s fine. I’m just not sure your analysis

my feet.

»Not good enough for you?« I challenged, still on

to the pirate stronghold in his backyard.

world. »That’s what’s really wrong with the

planet,« he insisted. Kevin hadn’t been to

Kevin sighed. He’d sighed the same way when we were eight, and I couldn’t remember the password

Kevin always complained that there

friendship & pickle.

Brasher's stor y of

What was your dream

weren’t enough hot dog stands in the

ARTWORK CAMILLE SMITHWICK

WORDS MELINDA BRASHER

The Hot Dog Stand

168 169

a bone he’d thrown me, back when we still went

»Well, not formally, but it’s all in there.«

analysis?« Kevin asked afterwards.

»And did you do the cost-effectiveness

wondered if the title of manager had been just

us to—and presented my monthly report.

Four — New Beginnings

The Hot Dog Stand

sister. ☞

garden, chasing the neighbor girls and the bratty

playing relay with a worm dug fresh out of the

I guess being a »team player« isn’t the same as

biking together and played pool and shared music.

I had one part-time employee, and I’d often

straight, then stood up—as Kevin expected

manager. While he had a whole »team« to manage,

I was ordering manager, but he was general

talked to his own superiors.

team members« he always bragged about when he

disrespectful school boy, not one of the »capable

»Mr. Calhoun,« he corrected me, as if I were a

»Are you even listening, Kevin?«

in front of him.

Kevin was flipping absently through the papers

these things.«

blathering, it was my turn. I pulled my tie

After half an hour of other people

Doughnuts weren’t high-end enough.

the polish of the table. But no doughnuts.

coffee cups reflected to double their size in

The conference table was lined with

I pulled my tie straight & stood up.

Northeast Supply, then maybe I’d have time for

doing the actual work. If you’d let us go back to

I haven’t been doing a useless analysis. I’ve been

had called yet another managers’ meeting.

»Ames and Diggens are behind in their deliveries, and I’ve had to scramble to find new vendors, so no,

I would have appreciated a hot dog stand

that Tuesday. I was famished, and Kevin

issue work

wore that garish apron, even outside, and would let us pick peas and tomatoes and stuff? She was

went off to college in New York, doesn’t put you on

the same rung of the corporate ladder.

one of his buddies was retiring the following week.

we ate and drank and somehow it came out that

But my uncle was visiting from out of town, and

as I got home.

in front of the others. I’d start job hunting as soon

That was it: the last time he would humiliate me

That was the last time he'd humiliate me.

of the women, and I sat down to fume in peace.

»I didn’t have time either, Mr. Calhoun,« said one

Wilman—remember her? The lady who always

homework all those years, before the math–phobe

stand?« I asked my uncle.

»So what’s your friend doing with the hot dog

I could run a hot dog stand!

about the hot dog stand.«

That’s what the world needs. More of that. It’s all

Mom got sick, he lined me up with a specialist.

Saw him almost every time I went. And when

guy. I’d talk politics with him.

always there on Tuesdays. And the stockbroker

And there was a lady who looked like Mrs.

I guess helping a hopeless math-phobe with his

170 171

Four — New Beginnings

The Hot Dog Stand

»From what?« I asked, wondering what kind of

»Looks like you've seen a ghost«

ditzy, blindly adoring side. I supposed if you were on the receiving end of that adoration, she’d be just about perfect. I wasn’t on the receiving end. Kevin was. But I knew her, too, from the Friday nights

week. »Cheap food, but good, and Earl—that was

the hot dog guy—he remembered what I liked, and

he’d ask about work, and rib me about the Cubs.

we’d all spent together at a club or restaurant. ☞

Sariah was young and pretty, and a little on the

going to the same hot dog stand two, three times a

convince Kevin’s girlfriend to buy it for him.

In the morning I had an even better idea. I’d

»Ask him how much he wants for it, will you?«

inconvenient, and watch him writhe.

just far enough away from the office that it was

friendly, attractive girl to work it, and station it

anymore, and I would have it. I could hire some

the only thing I ever saw Kevin get dreamy about

I could run a hot dog stand. I laughed. It was

had more business sense than Kevin realized.

could do it. I’d worked fast food in high school. I

My uncle laughed, but I was thinking hard. I

»Looking to change careers?«

»How much?«

»I think he’s selling it.«

about his stint working in Lower Manhattan,

Kevin’s eyes would drift out of focus as he talked

all.«

»No. You reminded me of someone I know, that’s

forward. »More beer?«

»Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.« My uncle leaned

I bolted upright. A hot dog stand!

»Oh, he owned a hot dog stand.«

work I’d find myself in next.

Four — New Beginnings

The Hot Dog Stand

She was endearingly gullible, and that would

I’ll be his weenie wife. Oh, how I love that hot

to quit!« ☞

»The hot dog stand. For months I’ve been wanting

down. Someday I’ll change his life.

»What was my idea?«

stand. He sells most everything from hot dogs on

confessed. She told me it was your idea.«

His smile stretched almost off his face. »She

as a kid. »I can’t believe you did it.«

old dog.« He slugged me on the arm like he’d done

Then one morning he came into my office. »You

I were guardedly polite in meetings.

I sang badly as she giggled. »He owns a hot dog

Man,« she started to cave. »I know a weenie man,«

secret dream. But after a few renditions of »Weenie

a slight pout on her lips, as I told her about Kevin’s

Sariah was an easy target. She looked doubtful,

Manhattan was.

It was a couple of weeks before Sariah actually got the hot dog cart into her possession. Kevin and

he’d finally stop talking about how wonderful

»Of course.«

he’ll like it?«

»Okay, okay, okay. I’ll do it. Do you really think

scarlet on the word »wife.«

stands weren’t the salvation of mankind. Maybe

thought he was. He’d also realize that hot dog

and he’d finally realize he wasn’t everything he

job would stress him out and cost him at work,

micro-manage, and juggling that and his real

He’d probably try to run it, and he’d obsessively

On the next repetition of the song, she blushed

general manager.

to get rid of it so easily, knowing he’d offend her.

simple hot dog man, instead of a rising star of a

what to do with the thing. But he wouldn’t be able

imagined Kevin more eager to marry if he were a

In her straightforward little mind, she probably

dog man.«

and eager to please, and he would have no idea

She’d present it beautifully to him, bright-eyed

wanted a hot dog stand. It was his life’s dream.

work to my advantage. I’d tell her he’d always

pulling my leg?

a load more than a hot dog man would. Was he

made six figures as general manager, but he made

»What?« was all I could manage. It’s not like he

»Yeah. I am.«

»You’re quitting?«

The Manhatten Hot Dog Man: Always happy!

it’ll be too soon.«

If I never see another cost-effectiveness analysis,

know how to do. And the paperwork they demand.

the million things I always have to do that I don’t

stress of it–the decisions you’re always questioning,

»I hate this job. I can’t sleep some nights for the

»What?«

Wanna go celebrate my freedom?

that big screen TV. Cubs game? My place?«

»Sure.« I hesitated. »And hey, I finally got

basement of the high school.

gotten away with the stink bombs in the

He was smiling like the day we’d

my freedom?«

»Wanna go shoot some pool? Celebrate

I shrugged, feeling very small.

needed this. Thanks. Really.«

man, better than anyone. You knew I

He slugged me again. »You know me,

»Look, that’s not necessary. I—«

174 175

possible.«

though? Half price for the man who made it

»No more, then. I quit. You’ll come to my stand,

best part.«

I stared at him. »Yeah, well, maybe that’s not the

that?«

they can’t say I’m showing favoritism? Even with

»Even with me as your boss, picking on you so

»It’s a good job.«

it.«

great, so I don’t feel guilty about roping you into

»And I’m tired of trying to pretend it’s all so

all day was what it was about.

Mustard and onions and standing on your feet

He cared. That’s what it’s about.«

Manhattan–he always looked so happy to see me.

I’m just ’networking.’ Earl–the hot dog man in

about them when I ask about their personal lives.

just using people all the time. I don’t really care out mine, and we shook. ◎

»Deal.« He stuck out his hand, I reached

marketing plan, you’re on your own.«

»Fine. But if you want to do a strategic

effectiveness analysis.«

the rest–people I want something from. It’s like I’m

me, which I usually can’t give. And then there are

»I’ll bring the hot dogs. Product testing, you know. We can do a detailed taste-

»Here I only talk to two types of people. There

are the ones who want some magical solution from

issue work

Four — New Beginnings

The Hot Dog Stand

176

177

Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

WORDS MAZ DUBLE EDITED BY LIV D'CRUZ

PHOTOGRAPHY JORDANE PRESTROT

A Game of Snakes and Ladders 178

179

work issue

I. Me.

I support those who have experienced

The people I support are experts of

mental health issues back into work,

their own journey towards achieving

as part of my job. I hesitated before

their goals, whatever they may be.

writing about the relationship between work and mental health, even with

So I write in my limited capacity and

day-to-day experience of supporting

from a restricted perspective, from my

individuals through the challenges of

point of view and role as a support

getting back into work.

worker. ☞

I haven’t experienced mental health disturbances

that

would

warrant

medical intervention.

Four — New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

180

II. Work Stages

Work can mean many things. It is not

The daily challenges someone faces

simply the ability to procure money,

could be barely visible to an outside

in order to spend it, contributing to an

observer, if say they lead a successful

economic structure that supposedly

career in their respective field, but the

benefits everyone.

internal hurdles with which they are

It could be a great achievement to

confronted could be constantly present.

journey out of the house and just be

Alternatively, ill mental health could

present somewhere else, which is not

be just a footnote to an individual’s

home. This could have taken up a great

working life; disruptive mental health

deal of effort, due to any number of

issues could be merely an occasional

mental health-related reasons, be it

visitor, which only every now and

the immense amount of mental energy

then needs to be addressed and kept in

taken up from hearing voices or the

check, whilst the rest of the time being

massive challenges severe agoraphobia

almost unnoticeable. ☞

can pose. Work can be volunteering for a homeless shelter or attending an art workshop when feeling well. This might be interspersed with regular periods of not being well enough to participate, because you’re too low due to an allencompassing episode of depression.

181

work issue

Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

182

183

It may be a life-long battle; always

III. Severity & Extent

presenting an ever imminent and real factor to overcome and manage in one’s working life. However, it may become easier in time, as one is better able to manage one’s mental health

The impact of one’s mental health on working life can vary greatly.

and respond well to early warning signs, as one’s self-knowledge and selfmanagement techniques develop.

work issue

This still may not preclude major

pressed to claim that his physical

dips or highs, which could occur at any

health is absolutely perfect. In the

time, thus still potentially remaining

same way, none of us could ever claim

drastically unpredictable. A very bad

to have perfect mental health. What

period, sometimes with seemingly little

would that even look like?

explanation as to the cause of it, could

quickly follow what from the outside

seems like a very good period of mental

IV. Non-Linear

health at work. One individual seemed like they had never been more successful in their working life. He was more creative

To compare one person’s work goals

in his filmmaking pursuits than ever

with another is difficult, but more to

before, more prolific in his musical

the point, unhelpful. The fact is that life

output, and was generating a stable

has dealt a bad hand to many of those

income and more integrated into the

who experience mental ill health. One

community than ever before. He was

person’s challenges in the workplace

looking healthier and reporting to be

are not the same as another’s. We ought

happier than he can ever remember

to let go of the idea that everyone

being. The shock of discovering that

should progress in linear, upward steps

life had taken its course and he took

towards their work goals.

his own life shortly after this positive period weighs heavily on my shoulders.

It isn’t true that all that matters in the

workplace is to progress from a position

A wise mentor of mine said, »We all

in the post room to becoming the CEO

have mental health issues«. None of

of the company. ☞

us are ever at peak physical health – even the fittest athlete would be hard

Four — New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

184

185

Individuals who experience mental

from work due to bouts of thought

health problems are forced to challenge

disorder or long spells in hospital,

a general expectation that we must

causing what seems like an experience

progress towards success in a straight-

of »falling down« to a lower or less

forward ascension, and in my opinion,

important stage in the work game.

this is for the better. I’ve watched them

consider, seek and find employment

But the individual who tackles mental

that is fulfilling and satisfying for

ill health can also emerge as a more

them, rather than aim to always be a

valued worker. They know themselves

highly

out-performing

better, after intimately building their

person who must at all times, be on top

functioning,

sanctuary back up, brick by brick. They

of their game.

have developed the resilience needed

to live with a potentially enduring and severe condition. After spending a lot of time and effort trying to make sense

V. Snakes & Ladders

of their experience of the world, some may now be more sure of what they value and what they want out of work, and life more broadly.

The world of work is a game of snakes

and ladders; carefully progressing onto

Perhaps we should all take a leaf out

the next stage, but always with the

of this liberating idea, which frees

danger of sliding back down.

oneself from the conventional view that the »end« of the game of snakes

Mental

ill

health

can

make

»progression« to the next stage ever more complicated, and the risk of sliding »down« ever more imminent. This may play out through absenteeism

and ladders is the goal of »winning«, whatever that is.

work issue

Maybe it’s possible to »win« at

There is more to our working life than

any stage of the game of snakes and

achieving the goal we’re supposed to

ladders, having climbed up ladders

want. ◎

and slid down snakes. Maybe what’s more important than getting to the end, being at the top or making loads of

money,

progressing

towards

your own meaningful world of work, wherever you find yourself.

Four — New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

186

187

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Four â&#x20AC;&#x201D; New Beginnings

A Game of Snakes and Ladders

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NOUS MAG SEVEN ARE

Alessandra Genualdo is an Italian illustrator and painter, living and working in East London with Kira the English Setter. ☞ alessandragenualdo.com Ami Nash is a Derry-born documentary filmmaker and writer whose work explores social, cultural and politcal issues. Her films follow drag queens, homeless eccentrics, skin heads, Irish republicans, sound healers, witches, and Moss Side gangsters. Angus Stewart is a restless Scot with a fair share of bad habits and a degree in English and Creative Writing. He has been writing seriously for a few years now and has managed to put a peaceful novel, a violent novella, and two equally yin-yang collections of his writings up on the Amazon Kindle Store. He loves animals, lager, and evening sunlight. ☞ dustsymbols.tumblr.com Antonella Trovarelli is a Spanish painter and illustrator hailing from Madrid. She's particularly interested in drawing animals who act like humans. ☞ behance.net/antrovarelli Atelier McClane is a duo of artists from Rennes, France, that formed in early 2013 and is composed of Julia Crinon and Hugo Marchal. They revolve in various fields: mural, installation, screenprinting, publishing. They are dedicated to the »four-hands« drawing method and DIY attitude. ☞ ateliermcclane.com Benedikt Luft works as a graphic designer and illustrator in Frankfurt am Main in Germany. Originally from Fulda he studied in Wiesbaden, where Fyodor Dostoyevsky gambled away all of his travel money in 1865. ☞ benediktluft.com

Cathy Bryant worked as a life model, civil servant and childminder before becoming a professional writer. Cathy lives and works in Cheshire. See her listings for skint writers at ☞ compsandcalls.com Camille Smithwick lives in Manchester. She’s not from Manchester. She’s not staying in Manchester. She is not educated to a higher level. ☞ cammys.co.uk Danny P. Barbare works as a janitor in South Carolina, USA. He has been writing poetry on and off for 35 years. Danny has dealt with mental illness since his teens. His work has been published locally, nationally, and abroad. David Subacchi lives in Wales where he was born of Italian roots. He attended Liverpool University and has had four poetry collections published. He writes in English and Welsh and sometimes in Italian. Ellen Denton is a freelance writer living in the Rocky Mountains with her husband and two demonic cats who wreak havoc and hell (the cats, not the husband). She’s had an exciting life working as a circus acrobat, a CIA spy, a service provider in the Red Light District, a navy seal, a ballerina on the starship Enterprise, and was the first person to climb Mount Everest. Emily Oldfield is a writer and blogger who escapes to Manchester from Burnley whenever she can. She thinks tea is the answer to everything. She likes penning poems for openmic and has a bit of a Joy Division obsession. ☞ speakingthemindnarrated.blogspot.co.uk

Contributors

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Evgeniy Stepanets is a documentary photograper born in Luhansk, East Ukraine, in 1989. He attended Volodymyr Dahl East Ukrainian National University and currently lives and works in Kyiv as a freelance photographer and designer. His work explores social issues in modern Ukraine. ☞ evgeniystepanets.com Fabiyas M V is a writer from Orumanayur village in Kerala, India. His fiction and poems have appeared in Westerly, Forward Poetry, Literary The Hatchet, E Fiction, Off the Coast, Anima, Structo, and in several anthologies. He won many international accolades including the Poetry Soup International Award, USA and Merseyside at War Poetry Prize from Liverpool John Moores University, U K. Frazer Tudor Macdonald is an English and Creative Writing student from Wales who loves coffee and going on adventures. He's currently in the middle of writing his first novel, and runs a blog with a friend. ☞ suchandsuchmag.wordpress.com Gaynor Pettitt is a retired paediatric nurse who spent 39 years caring for sick children. George Odysseos studies History at University of Manchester. He tries to keep his head in the past so he doesn't have to worry about the future. Gloria Pasotti is an Italian photographer based in Milan. For her contribution to the Work Issue, Pasotti utilized objects she usually finds in the museum and in the studio where she works. Arranged in a precarious and temporary mode, they reflect uncertainty and fear of losing her job, but are also a declaration of love for the objects that surround her. ☞ gloriapasotti.it

Henri Badaröh is a Brazilian visual artist, photographer and writer. He investigates the poetics between (and within) people and the written word. Often using technology as an attempt to reveal how contemporaneity moulds art consumption, behaviour and sociocultural identity. His work is an eternal exercise of nihilism and incompletude in favour of self-knowledge. Henri holds a BA in Photography and is currently living and studying in the Netherlands. ☞ @badenry Holly Magill is a poet from Worcestershire. She has a BA in Creative Writing from the University of Birmingham, and has had work featured in numerous publications including Lunar Poetry, Clear Poetry, Three Drops and a Cauldron and The Emma Press’ anthology of Mildly Erotic Verse. Holly Jameson is an illustrator, animator, and character designer, based in Edinburgh, who studied at Edinburgh College of Art. She has a cat addiction and only goes outside on special occasions. ☞ hollyjameson.co.uk Ingi House is an archivist and librarian. Originally from the Midwest, she is trying out both coasts to see which one is best. She loves words and hopes they love her back. Tweet her via ☞ @IngiHouse J. J. Steinfeld is a Canadian fiction writer, poet, and playwright who lives on Prince Edward Island, where he is patiently waiting for Godot’s arrival and a phone call from Kafka. While waiting, he has published sixteen books, including Should the Word Hell Be Capitalized? (Stories, Gaspereau Press), Would You Hide Me? (Stories, Gaspereau Press), An Affection for Precipices (Poetry, Serengeti Press) just to name a few.

work issue

His short stories and poems have appeared in numerous periodicals and anthologies internationally, and over forty of his one-act plays and some full-length plays have been performed in North America. Jake Duff was born 25 years ago and has regretted it ever since. His debut poetry collection Horarium has been published via ☞ teamtridentpress.com Jeff Morgan is now happily retired, but busier than ever. He has worked in industry and communities to support individuals, working colleagues & families cope with stress, depression, loss & personal crises. He now focuses on meeting some of the needs and aspirations of asylum seekers & refugees. Jennifer Dionosio is an illustrator based in London and a member of Puck Collective. Her imagery is a fabulous high-wire act between film noir and 1960s comic book aesthetic. ☞ jenniferdionisio.com Jimmy Slater is a fruit-selling, egg-flipping, carpentry-loving visual artist, musician, and hedonist currently based in Manchester. ☞ oil-oyl.bandcamp.com Joe Whitmore is an artist and animator based in Manchester. He's created visuals for music videos of Mistoa Poltsa, live sound performances in the caves beneath the River Irwell, and sleeve designs. Joe is inspired by ancient wall paintings and forgotten cultures. ☞ jwhitmoo.co.uk John Laue is a teacher, a counselor, a former editor of Transfer, and Associate Editor of San Francisco Review. He presently coordinates the reading series of The Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium, edits the online magazine

Monterey Poetry Review, is a member and former Co-Chair of the Santa Cruz County Mental Health Advisory Board, and a supporter and former Board Member of MHCAN (The Mental Health Clients Action Network). ☞ oldcapitolbooks.com Jordane Prestrot never liked school and doesn't want to find a real job. He lives in a little house in Alsace, with two cats, two girls and a couple of crows. His nails are weird and his Venus is in Aries. He's also involved in photography, music, writing and other things. ☞ prestrot.com Josh Davies When not at work or hungover, Josh is interested in radical mental health movements and critiques, crisps & destroying capitalism. ☞ @_joshdavies LindaAnn Lo Schiavo is a native New Yorker, journalist, dramatist, and poet who creates work for both the stage and screen. Currently, she is completing her second documentary film on Texas Guinan. ☞ @Mae_Westside Liv D’Cruz is a graphic designer and academic researcher for independent publisher GraphicDesign&, with a specialist interest in the Philosophy of Consciousness. ☞ oliviadcruz.com Lisa Edi studied Photography at the University of Applied Arts Vienna. She lives and works in Austria. ☞ lisaedi.com Lulu Heal is a Manchester based illustrator specialising in hand-drawn imagery and digital designs. Lulu loves the analogue play with surreal imagery, normally created by misreading. She's one part of Generic Greeting Collective. ☞ luluheal.co.uk

Contributors

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Mantz Yorke lives in Manchester. His poems have appeared in Butcher’s Dog, Dactyl, New Madrid Journal, Popshot, Prole, Revival, The Brain of Forgetting and The Stony Thursday Book, in e-magazines and in anthologies in the UK, Ireland and the US. Marija Biljan is a writer and Creative Project Manager from Croatia. Her projects often take her abroad. At the moment she's based in Sicily. As a cultural anthropologist, she explores cultures, people and cities. Her most current anthropological-artistic project is The City As A Person, presenting stories and illustrations of real cities that are imagined, by their inhabitants, as people. ☞ cityasaperson.com Maz Dublé is a philosophy graduate from Warwick University who has spent much of his career in support work of various kinds. His interests include music and travel. ☞ @MazDuble Mel Wheeler is an artist, curator, and writer based in the North West. She recently published a zine of collages in aid of refugees in Calais ☞ melaniewheeler.co.uk Melinda Brasher spends her time writing, travelling, and teaching English as a second language at home and abroad. She loves the sound of glaciers calving and the smell of old books. ☞ melindabrasher.com Primoz Zorko is an independent photographer and graphic designer working on both commercial and art projects. When he's off work you can probably find him somewhere warm, where there's beaches and waves. ☞ primozzorko.com

Contributors

NOUS 7 — The Work Issue

Sarah Werner got her first paid job when she was fourteen years old. She undertook her first big journey on her own when she was 19. She gained a BA in Musicology and Music Education as well as a MA degree in Ethnomusicology. She started her first proper job when she was 23. She worked as a nude model, waitress in a Bavarian beer garden, baker, child minder, and dishwasher assembler. ☞ soundcloud.com/sowaana Saul Bush is an aspiring writer living in Manchester. He is currently sketching short stories and working on his first book »American English«. The themes Saul enjoys exploring are technology, cultural differences and mental health. ☞ @saulyzb Stacy Murison reads, writes, and consumes too much coffee and dark chocolate in the high desert mountain town of Flagstaff, Arizona. Her work appears in River Teeth, Hobart, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Assay: A Journal of Nonfiction Studies, and Queen Mob’s Tea House. ☞ @caseystay Tanya Traboulsi Austrian-born with Lebanese origins, Tanya divides her time between Beirut and Vienna. Her work explores highly personal themes of belonging, identity and memory, as well as the sociological stigmas relating to female identity. ☞ tanyatraboulsi.com Thomas Tudoux’s artistic research takes multiple shapes, investigating our relationship with work and hyperactivity in the business world, the educational system, in the public space, and in fiction. ☞ thomastudoux.fr VOID Collective was founded in 2015 by Josh R Wilson and William S Parslow with the intention of blurring the lines between graphic design and art. Follow them via ☞ @peak_s and @slimygoldfish

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