Roots and Wings

When my Communications Director asked me to write a blog for Pride Month, I said “Yes of course, are there any topics you’d like me to focus on?”. She said “What about parenting during the pandemic?”. Now, those of you who know me well know that my wife, Gill, shouldered the vast majority of parenting throughout the pandemic. That’s partly because I’m terrible at work/life balance (at best, I’m a fantastic role model for our 4 year old daughter Mya; at worst I’m an average parent); but mostly because she is bloody brilliant! She’s so patient and creative – she has themed activities each week and even built a 4ft tall cardboard igloo last summer for Mya to play in.

What the pandemic, and the current political situation, have reminded me of is one of my Mum’s mantras: The best things you can give your children are roots and wings. Roots to give them a secure foundation upon which to grow, and to remember where they came from. Wings to fly as high and as far as their hearts’ desire. It was only a few years ago that I realised what my Mum had done with her wings. I grew up in a working-class housing estate in Belfast, Northern Ireland in the 80s and 90s. It wasn’t the height of The Troubles, but rioting, bombs and shootings were a very common occurrence. My Mum used her wings to shelter us from it all. The kids around us were joining rival paramilitary organisations, getting involved in drugs and violent attacks. We were loving school and playing football or mini-Olympics in the street.

As we got older, it did of course become obvious what was happening around us, so in 1995 I used my wings to fly off to University in Scotland, and subsequently to England. It wasn’t just the conflict that I was flying away from. I wasn’t openly gay at home so I thought it easier to move away and be the me I wanted to be.

Throughout the pandemic, we’ve seen a British Government that is more interested in saving face than saving lives and billions of pounds squandered on a “Track and Trace” system that still doesn’t work. Not to mention the missed schooling. Our children will be paying the price for decades to come.

Post-Brexit Britain is limiting our travel and trade, and fuelling a return to the levels of violence I saw in my youth in Northern Ireland.

All of this has made me think, is this the “fertile soil” that will allow my daughter to grow and flourish to her fullest potential? Is it time to uproot and fly again?

Expanding my business by opening an office in North America (well, Canada) has always been part of my plan, so perhaps this is the catalyst I need to actually start putting the plans into action (never let a crisis go to waste!).

Like the gay icon, Whitney Houston, I believe the children are our future, and as parents it is our responsibility to provide the best possible future for them. For now, we need to make the most of the madness, while sheltering them from it as best as we can. Gill does that with ease. While I’ve been writing this, she and Mya have made a Pride rainbow out of cardboard and rice. I should definitely leave the parenting blogs to her in future!