I started this blog feeling like this. And here I am again.
They don’t want to hear what I have to say. I say it in a warm way – perhaps you can try… this might be a good idea… How about…? Only to be told they have a better way. A tried and tested way. A way that they’ve been using for years and years. But one that has failed them again and again.
They say we need to shake things up this year. So I tell them straight this won’t work anymore… You need to do … Can you please… Only to be ignored once more. Told there’s a reason we don’t to it like that.
But I know I’m right. I’ve spoken to the people they’re trying to appeal to. I’ve watched them from the outside, failing, and I can see where they went wrong.
And now they’ve shipped me off. P.S. You’re on this team now. Like I am labour to be moved. Like my opinion on what I choose to do with my free time and energy counts for nothing. The troublesome woman who keeps asking about deadlines and roles. The troublesome woman who bothers asking if this is worth it. The troublesome woman who tries to get others involved.
They need volunteers. But what they really mean is bodies not minds. Once again they’ve thrown away someone willing to give it their all. And then they wonder why it’s the same people in the room year after year.
I know I don’t belong. But I know I deserve to. And yes it’s their loss. But here I am feeling lost.
This post is in relation to preparing for political youth elections. As a Muslim woman I feel like I had to clarify this in case someone reports me for suspicious activity or something (!)