Letters - 20 September 2024

Exclusion and inclusion

I was very disappointed to see that, in my article about the lived experience of being disabled among Friends (30 August), the Friend chose to remove the capital ‘D’ for Deaf and to use lower case ‘d’ deaf instead. 

 It was a deliberate choice to say ‘Deaf’, not ‘deaf’, as this is the way in which people in the Deaf community choose to be recognised. Deaf people are in a highly marginalised group. Using British Sign Language as their first language, they see themselves as a cultural group primarily. Given that I was talking about meeting the communication needs of Deaf, hard of hearing, partially sighted or blind people, it was particularly relevant to use Deaf. 

I was saddened that my choice to include the Deaf community was effectively erased. This is, regrettably, not untypical of the exclusion that all Deaf, disabled and neurodivergent people experience at times among Friends. The decision came across as ableist – the all too frequent removal of choice and independence; a superiority of non-disabled views that minimises the value of disabled experiences. 

Friends, it is not our job as Deaf, disabled and neurodivergent people to teach you everything about our communities. Sometimes you need to do the work and educate yourselves about us. We grow tired of having to take the responsibility for trying to make the Society of Friends include us. It is high time that you stepped up and played your part.

Erica Thomas

Quaker Disability Equality Group


Still lost and broken?

The recent article by Matt Rosen (6 September) hits the nail gently on the head. 

Today many Friends rightly find themselves at home in Quaker Meeting because of shared values as expressed by the Quaker testimonies. Early Friends had to start from scratch. They were lost and broken people in a broken country; they were changed and energised when they met within themselves one who they believed to be the ‘Christ’ revealed by Jesus. It was from this new perspective, bound together by love, that they envisioned the testimonies. 

Can Quaker Meeting still be a home where our present brokenness is exposed and healed, and our testimonies, both personal and collective, envisioned anew? I hope so.

Geof Kinns


Greenbelt

I loved Abigail Maxwell’s article on Greenbelt (‘Somewhere to believe in’, 6 September). It brought back very happy memories of when I used to attend regularly. I am so heartened to hear that Quakers are now more present there. 

I’ve heard that people are missing Quaker residential gatherings, Summer Gathering, and residential Yearly Meeting. Me too. Maybe Greenbelt could help fill that gap? It helps to camp and stay there, but I guess you can be a day visitor too and stay offsite.

I heard John O’Donohoe there, and narrowly missed Richard Rohr (two of my main sources of inspiration), as well as all those conversations in the tea tent and experiencing new forms of worship. Time to go back?

Mo Rowcliffe-Quarry


Death and dying

Margaret Cook’s letter (30 August) spoke to my condition. I have told my children that if any of them use euphemisms like ‘passed away’ after I’m dead, I will haunt them! 

Deborah Jane


Confusion

Are any other Friends confused? We have been told that Quakers must not ‘bandy about’ words like ‘apartheid’, but Quakers welcomed the judgment of the International Court which said the Israeli government committed aspects of ‘apartheid’. 

I think we have had four reasons why Yearly Meeting Agenda Committee, on the recommendation of the trustees, decided to ask the Quaker Socialist Society to disinvite Jeremy Corbyn from speaking in Friends House at Yearly Meeting (YM). The first is a fear for staff safety if he was allowed to speak. I have some knowledge of being afraid at work and in two circumstances thought it likely I would die. One was when a refuge was surrounded by a carload of men. Fortunately the gate and doors held until the police arrived. All the women and children were in an upstairs bedroom barricaded while I was on the payphone in the hall downstairs to the police. The second circumstance was when a particular woman was in refuge. Her husband carried a knife. He would stab without a second thought, and our then office entrance/exit could not be made secure from attack. 

I was therefore a bit apprehensive about going to the talk. How many demonstrators would there be? How much violence? How many armed police? But no demonstrators, no violence, no police. Over 24,000 electors voted for Jeremy Corbyn; they, presumably, are not afraid. It would be useful to know how staff would be under threat. 

The second reason was that the Israeli government might block the Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel. From my experience of abusive men, appeasement doesn’t work. The Israeli government will do as it wants, as can be seen in its lack of response to the international community condemning over 40,000 deaths, mainly women and children, in Gaza. 

Third was ‘reputational risk’. The Religious Society of Friends would not exist without two men. Jesus of Nazareth, executed by the Roman occupying army as a common criminal, and George Fox, imprisoned many times and hardly an upholder of the law at the time. I can’t imagine either of them waking up and thinking ‘What is the reputational risk of what I do today?’

Fourth was that the Equalities and Human Rights Commission found Corbyn did not do enough to stop antisemitism within his party. The independent Forde report found that Corbyn inherited senior members of staff who disagreed with the vote by the membership to elect him as leader. Corbyn appointed his own senior staff and the Forde report found constant friction with both groups ‘weaponising’ claims of antisemitism. So I remain confused, but was glad that I heard Paul Ingram and Jeremy Corbyn speak. I would have liked BYM to follow Gamaliel’s advice: ‘for if this undertaking is of men, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow it’. 

Kate Arnot 


Befriending politicians

In November 2019 I was conflicted. Most of my life I had voted Labour, but the upsurge in antisemitism under Jeremy Corbyn was leaving me uncertain. I had already torn up my party card. My new prospective Labour candidate came canvassing. I was challenging and Jacob [not his real name] freely acknowledged there was an antisemitism problem in Labour. I decided that while I didn’t trust Jeremy Corbyn, I did trust Jacob. Happily he was successfully elected. Two months later I met him at the local Holocaust Memorial Day commemoration. He looked a little lost so I introduced him to some of the dignitaries I knew. Shortly afterwards he joined us for supper at our Liberal synagogue. This established a continuing relationship with the synagogue.

In 2022 I took a similar decision to form personal friendships with our newly-elected councillors and draw them into the life of our synagogue. This worked well until 7 October when the two Muslim councillors started to be more distant and more guarded. But Alex [not his real name], the third, was already too good a friend. After 7 October Jacob rang me to check I was alright. Shortly after that some of our congregation met together. We were joined by Jacob, a councillor and the leader of the council. For many of us it was the first time we had been able to talk as Jews to other Jews. 

As we prepared for Passover Jacob contacted us to see if he could join. This was a very significant gesture. At a time when many in the Labour Party were trying to court the Muslim vote, both Alex and Jacob joined us for our Passover meal. 

A politician is in a difficult position. Too often they have no opportunity to explore issues in depth. Offering the hand of confidential friendship to a politician offers more than simple lobbying ever does. In my late seventies I find myself in the surprising position of being a mentor to two politicians. I achieved this by simply offering friendship and support. This might be a model that other Friends might adopt.

Name and address supplied


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