Milestone

It’s funny, but sometimes all we need in order to succeed is somebody to tell us that we’re going to fail.

Now, I don’t proclaim to be an expert in reverse psychology, nor do I hold out to have any sort of knowledge of the intricacies of the human thought process but I do know that, as a rule of thumb, if somebody tells me that I’m going to fail at something then I’ll do my damn hardest to prove them wrong.

I was recently told by an old school teacher that I would never make it as a barrister; I’m not dedicated enough, I lack the shrewdness and astuteness required to be anything more than a legal executive and said teacher said it was questionable whether or not I had the academic capability to do so. I was also advised by one of my teachers not to apply for a particular course at university as “it would be a waste of an application – the chances of being accepted don’t justify using up one of only 5 choices.”

Now accredit it to what you will; an inherent disregard for authority, an abnormal susceptibility to reverse psychology or blatant arrogance, I refuse to change my entire focus on one person’s say so. If said person is an expert then yes it gives food for thought, equally if the advice is from somebody I respect such as the latterly aforementioned teacher. However, if this contrary view comes fired from somebody on the cuff or is given with seemingly little contemplation then often it has the opposite effect on me. Take, for example, the former teacher. At the time they taught me I was 11 – a rowdy, boisterous year six with ideas above his station and an ego which could barely be contained. Many things change over the years; I’m now a year 13. I bumped into said teacher quite randomly in the town centre, she asked what I was studying and, as most people do, honed in on law. Now, on the whole people have huge misconceptions about those studying law. It may be surprising to learn but as I’ve had less than 12 months of legal teaching I’m actually not qualified to give legal advice, nor am I in a position to debate the confines to which we should limit current legislation. I can’t get your ‘mate’ off a traffic offence charge and I certainly shouldn’t be the one to read over a draft lease agreement! Yet alas said teacher had the pre-conceptions.

“You’re studying law? (At this point the abnormally large eyebrows have gained considerable altitude) Not going to be a lawyer are you?”

“Actually I’m considering becoming a barrister, although I’m not sure what area of law I’d like to specialise in.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I can’t see you in court. Not on the right side of the dock anyway! [laughs]” (said laugh was the sort of laugh where the defendant clearly meant what she had just said but was attempting to disguise her evident despise with a cover of severely unconvincing cachinnation.)

“Well I’ve changed a lot since Morton (primary school.) I expect everybody has.” This statement was a lie – the chances of her being any less of a miserable child-preying bitch than in 2001 are absolutely nil, as was confirmed by her response.

“Indeed.” Now that’s a response and a half. Which she followed up with a frankly unneeded soliloquy in which she outline how she thought I’d be unsuitable for the bar as, from what she knew of me, I wasn’t quite astute or shrewd enough. She then told me (because obviously I had no idea) that the bar is a very competitive career choice to take and that statistically I wouldn’t succeed.

Now this point has always been resonated whenever the issue of the bar has arisen, usually I take note and becoming adequately conscious of the gravity of my dreams. However, for some reason in the situation I completely disregarded the comment.

So finally I reach my point. If we only heed advice from the people we trust and/or respect what happens if we become distant from those closest to us and embark upon a path on which those whom we trust know nothing about. Surely we leave our pool of light and walk an entirely darkened path? And what happens if we perceive those around us as not knowing the ‘real us’? I don’t believe that Miss Norbron knows the real me, therefore I disregarded her opinions out of spite – the spite was only born from the fact that she once knew me but now clearly doesn’t. So, if I were to change in myself so dramatically that I thought those around me didn’t know what I’d become , would I listen to what they had to say about me? Not listen as in the physical sense of the verb, but heed advice, acknowledge opinions and subsequently challenge my own. Surely this is how some people we brand as ‘extremists’ come to be?

Hypothetical situation:

Tom, 32 years old working in an accountancy firm. 9am-6pm Monday-Friday. £24,000 per annum with a £250 Christmas bonus if he’s lucky. Tom hates his boss, but everyone else at work seems to get along with him. As a result Tom doesn’t go out with workmates and likes to keep work and private life very separate. Tom has a close group of friends he’s known since university; 5 of them that go out most weekends and spend the odd weekday in etc. Here Tom’s in what I guess you could call the normal situation. So what happens next?

The accountancy firm Tom works for decides to increase productivity; thus increasing working hours. Tom now works 9am-7pm Monday-Friday and 10am-2pm Saturday. Because he works later he doesn’t see his friends in the evenings. He also doesn’t see them on Saturdays anymore. He works a 6 day week so on Sunday he’s knackered. Work’s getting him down and the last thing he wants to do is get pissed on Sunday to awake Monday with a hangover. Because he doesn’t spend as much time with his friends he feels distant from them. The longer he goes without going out, the harder it becomes to take the plunge. A month goes by and he hasn’t been out for 4 weeks. At this stage he feels detached from his friends, he doesn’t have anyone to go out and grab a coffee with, noone to go out and have a walk and a chat to.

An opening for a promotion comes up at work; Tom thinks he could do the job, he knows it would be hard but it’s something that he really sees himself doing. The promotion requires extra knowledge and lots of preparatory work, so he sets about learning the additional material and skills required. A month down the line Tom has been studying and reading up on the areas and has really progressed; he’s also got talking to a couple of the other candidates and has revived some form of social life. In the elapsed time he hears that one of his old friends has got married, he wasn’t surprised not to receive an invite but it did make him think a little.

A week before the first interview Tom is nervous; he enjoys the new area of accountancy but it’s a massive change from his usual comfort zone and he’d be throwing himself into the unknown with no guarantee of security. His boss has clocked on that Tom hates him; Tom had confided in one candidate who, it transpired, was a close friend of the boss. The boss wants Tom out, the other candidates are now hostile as everybody wants the job. Tom really needs advice, or someone to talk to. As fate would have it he bumps into one of his old friends, Mark, on his daily trip to Starbucks.

They exchange niceties and both take orders to drink in; Mark orders a Cappuccino as he always has, Tom orders a Latté (a drink which he’d first tried after a recommendation form a candidate at work.) Things start to go wrong from here.

Mark: Latté? Since when have you ever liked Latté?

Tom: Since, well, ever.

Mark: You were always a Macchiato man, double shot with cream.

Tom: That’s a long time ago.

Here Tom is beginning to become hostile, Mark has made an issue out of a change. As far as Tom is concerned, however, this is Tom. Not a changed Tom, but Tom. After some discussion of their mutual friend’s wedding (Mark: they tried to phone you every day for two weeks. We all did, just after you’d have got back from work we phoned – you never answered. I came over personally one Saturday but you weren’t there.) they then progress to the topic of Tom’s promotion. Mark doesn’t understand why on earth Tom would want to go into tax accountancy.

Mark: No offence mate but you’re not one for tax. You’re more of a property guy, that’s what you’re good at. You love your job, you’re dedicated to it – we all know that.

Tom: But tax accountancy would give me so much more scope career-wise. (Tom has been studying really hard for the past couple of months and is really excited by the prospect.)

Mark: yeh but you shouldn’t take the job. There will be more, this one’s not for you mate.

After an “oh, so sorry, I have to go” get out Tom is alone again.

What would Mark know? He doesn’t know Tom anymore, he doesn’t understand what makes him tick what drives him, he doesn’t even know his coffee order! Mark doesn’t understand taxation and certainly doesn’t understand the firm. Tom won’t listen to him and heed his advice. Source of advice number 1 = ignored.

The other candidates want Tom to drop out. But of course they would, he’s the competition. They don’t actually care about him do they? Source number 2 = ignored.

The boss hates Tom as much as Tom hates him. He says he should quit the firm and drop out of accountancy all together. Source number 3 = ignored.

So how does this relate to me? Well, Tom has 3 people telling him that he shouldn’t go for it. Yet none of these people are of significance to really stop him. He may be about to make a huge mistake, and there is noone close enough to him to really understand his situation. A close friend would understand exactly what it meant to him, appreciate the sacrifices he had made and share, or at least have a inkling into Tom’s vision. Tom doesn’t have anyone like that. Perhaps this is how extremists come to be; perhaps they become fascinated with a political or ethical ideal to such an extent that it becomes a part of them. When others do not understand the ideal then it appears that they do not understand the individual. Said subject then becomes detached from those closet to him/her. Here the safety blanket is burned. The only guidance which will be heeded is that of the conscience – yet if this has been replaced by a dependency or fanaticism then people can be ‘controlled’ by third parties; literature, protagonists; dictators. How do we know when our safety blanket is burning?

I guess it’s hard to tell; we all go through social changes and upheavals. Friendships change, disappear, reignite and sometimes stagnate. But so long as we have at least one constant, one reference point so-to-speak I guess we can all cling on to the ledge of normality. Without a ‘rock’ (apologies for the clichée) we cannot set a bearing for a new path. We need a point to start at, a point which we know is fixed and shall be there should we decide to return, or flee back to. We are all dependent upon our friends, yet perhaps we may not realise to what degree until it is too late.

I hope Tom finds happiness,

and that Miss Norbron needs a barrister in ten years time.