2024

Well Hello,

It has been quite some time since I last wrote a blog and even longer since I gave a proper update on what’s happening with Project One.

You may have seen me irl or online, doing non-climbing related things and wondered what on earth happened?! With good reason, you may question why; as the organisations popularity was growing and people were getting on board with the vision…you disappeared?!

Well, the truth is, I didn’t. I have spent the last 2-3 years very close to everything, but somehow completely removed from the community I had come to call home. I have been too unwell to participate in the sport I love, while running an organisation created specifically to address issues I deemed important within the industry I suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly became a part of.

Initially, my motivation to start project one had nothing to do with climbing. I had been living abroad and upon my return realised that I had been gifted such a privilege in having the opportunity to leave my hometown, let alone home country, that I knew I needed to do something to give back to my true community. The place I was really from, the place that raised me and at times, the place I hated.

You see, I’m from a place where everyone is very sure of who they are. We were raised to know where we’re from, what’s important to us and how to maintain that status quo with great vigour. We’re raised to ‘know our place’.

Our place isn’t the nicest part of town, it’s not the place with million pound properties and glitz and glamour, it’s a place where if you want to get something fixed, you ask your neighbour if they know anyone. A place where you know the names of everyone on the street. A place that no one else wants to go, but you feel the most comfortable.

It’s not a place known for its riches and beauty, but definitely known for its sense of loyalty and camaraderie...

All this to say; P1's gonna be changing a bit. I'll explain more about how and why anoter day, but for now I'm going to go and sit in the garden and be grateful that I can.

toodles for now <3

3 - Opportunity

It’s been a few days since I saw a friend post a photo of my old boss with the words RIP somewhere in the caption.

My (very quickly deleted out of panic) comment of ‘what??’ Was all I could think to write because it didn’t seem even remotely possible that the person in the picture, one of the most influential people in my working life, had died.

Russell Norman was an inspiration to many. In the last few days my discover page has been peppered with his picture and it’s wonderful to see so many people that loved him share their experiences of his beautiful taste in food, wine and more importantly his vision for a new dining experience in London.

I’m not going to talk about this today though, because the impact he had on me stretched far beyond his immaculate taste in aesthetically pleasing environments and flavours that make you go ‘ommmgggg that’s fucking lush!’.

Russell believed in me.

When I turned 18, I walked across the street to my local pub and asked them for a job. It’s flats now, which is a shame, but I digress…

After a few months of that I moved on, worked in the rock scene for a couple of years, did bits and bobs here and there to help out mates, dablled in retail but mostly just mooching around doing nothing productive with my time.

I wanted a new job, something real, that I didn’t have to be shitfaced to enjoy, so I decided the next step in my career was to start placing plates instead of pouring pints.

I applied for a 'random' waitressing job, can’t even remember how now, probably gumtree but I got an interview!

The day of, I walked around the corner from Carnaby Street and pulled my sleeves down. It was hot. I didn’t want to, but my decision making process in the couple of years prior, made me believe that getting a massive hand tattoo at 18 was a good idea, so I was trying to cover it up, not very well as I’m sure you can imagine.

Introductions were made by the manager on duty and I headed to the back of the restaurant to try and figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do now.

Thankfully, everyone that worked there was very helpful, taught me the ropes quickly and to top it off were all kind of young and seemed cool, so I relaxed in nice and quickly to the trial shift.

I was terrified. Everything was pretty, clean, shiny and smelled like heaven (including the staff and customers, it was a small place, we got up close and personal, which is what gave Polpo such charm).

I was no stranger to nice restaurants, but this was different, I was responsible (even during that two hour trial shift) for making sure that people had a really really nice time….not always the main priority in the bars I had been working at previously, so it was a big deal.

I had to find my proper English again and remember that swearing is frowned upon in front of customers. My brain was working and it was daunting.

At some-point during the shift, I hadn’t dropped anything or pissed too many people off it seemed, so all was going well…and them the owner came over!

We had a nice chat filled with small talk and me pretending I was totes comfy with what was happening until I got the courage to say “oh, I can keep my arms covered at all times when I’m working, I dont’ mind at all”

“NO!” He said "I love tattoos, I have a big one of my own!" he said as he pulled his tshirt over his shoulder and turned to show me the giant octopus on his back.

“I want people to see, tell me what they say!” and off he went again.

So I did, and many conversations with customers about my tattoos commenced.

I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but I ended up working with him for the next two years or so…

The thing is, I had no idea who Russell Norman really was. Outside of tabloids mentioning fancy celebs going there, I didn’t know what The Ivy or The Groucho were and I had no idea that the restaurant I was now working at, was making history.

I figured it out pretty fast though thankfully, and the opportunity I had just been given dawned on me. I had a real chance to make something of myself here, and I was going to make the most of it.

So…into Hospitality I dove…

TBC

2

diversity

/dʌɪˈvəːsɪti,dɪˈvəːsɪti/

1. the state of being diverse; variety.

2. the practice or quality of including or involving people from a range of different social and ethnic backgrounds and of different genders, sexual orientations, etc.

Coming from the route word:

divert

/dʌɪˈvəːt,dɪˈvəːt/

1. cause (someone or something) to change course or turn from one direction to another.

To change course. Change is often what we as humans fear most. Philosophers and scholars have spent thousands of years trying to decipher the meaning of life and most agree that the only thing we can truly rely on, is the evolution of our present situation.

Nothing is permanent and fluidity must be embraced to thrive in a world that can be disorganised, dusted with uncertainty and vivid reminders of days gone by. Those days may have been good or bad, that is a matter of perspective, but what cannot be denied is that the wheel will keep turning and life will move forward, whether we like it or not.

So, let’s take a second to play the ‘diversity means change’ game...and we may find some answers as to why we have seen little progress with diversifying the climbing community until recent years.

status quo

/ˈkwəʊ/

noun

1. the existing state of affairs, especially regarding social or political issues.

"they have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo"

I’ll save you the tirade about capitalism and rich people staying rich, for now…as I think it’s important to talk about the other side of that coin. We forget that the status quo can often be a comfortable place for those less privileged than we might imagine.

Where is the place you feel the most comfortable, not happy...comfortable? If you’re lucky, it’s the same place you call home. Maybe it’s in a dangerous location, or you’d prefer better weather but it’s what you know and love. The people you love are there, the little trinkets you hold dear are nearby, and you know the streets or land like the back of your hand.

It’s yours, it’s private, you don’t want to leave and it’s not to be shared with just anyone…

Leaving home is usually necessary at some point in our adult lives. Many of us get it right the first time on our own because we had good teachers warning us about things that might trip us up along the way. However many of us didn’t get a heads up.

Why am I making metaphors about Home and Dad rock you might ask?

Well because the status quo is home. It’s not necessarily the best place for us but we know it well and taking that first step outside of what we know is often the most difficult challenge we face in life.

So, seeing as climbing is home for many of us, it’s understandable that we fear evolution of the thing we hold so dearly to our hearts. What is often forgotten however, is that like the carpets being removed in place of a shiny wooden floor and the dusty old curtains making way for crisp new blinds…changes are generally upgrades.

Some of us don’t have the correct guidance and don’t want to open the front door, let alone step outside because what awaits can be scary and unknown.

What doesn’t help is when the media, your peers and sometimes even employers point out loudly and consistently that you’re probably going to fail at leaving home anyway, because most people like you that try it, end up in trouble of some sort.

What if you’re told that your ideal home, is filled with people who look like those in the media telling you you’re no good.

They speak the same language, have the same jobs, wear the same clothes and have the same haircuts as all the people you’ve spent life defending yourself to. The ones who cross the street when they see you coming, who laugh at you for wearing The North Face in a city and judge you when you don’t understand why there is a need to sign a waiver form that you don’t understand to have a go at something that comes so naturally and intuitively to us all…yeah, I digressed a bit, but you use where I’m going with this?

This is why representation is important:

To expect newcomers to be inspired by those same people is quite troubling to me. They’re the ones you’re supposed to believe when they say that your dreams can come true. The people that possess what you desire and those who achieve the things know you can, look and act nothing like you; Don’t listen to the same kind of music or hang out with the same kind of people, and mor e often than not, don’t want to know you or anything about you, in fact, ultimately, they think you don’t belong.

It’s emotionally conflicting at best, damaging at worst.

Why would anyone want to move in with them?

…surely, you’d want to stay at home with the people that are nice to you surrounded by things, sounds, smells and tastes that make you feel like you’re in your home?

What we need to do is make sure our climbing ‘living rooms’ leave space for new people to start leaving their own little reminders of home for everyone that visits. And appreciating and celebrating those things lovingly left behind, for others to enjoy. Not just the select few who have been popping in for a cuppa for years.

I believe we face an issue of class within climbing. The subsequent problem is, the line between the class and race is a very thin one, especially in the UK.

I believe we should endeavour to understand this better, we must properly research the demographics of our community so that we can learn how to protect and uplift everyone within it. We must continue to learn.