The value of telling our stories

I've spent this morning clearing my head by walking around our beautiful bush property, thinking about the issues that provoked yesterday's clamour. (And yes, I had a good night's sleep, thank you!) As I've said before, it's easy to take an initial position of defensiveness when we're attacked unexpectedly- but it's wise to be self-critical when we cause dissent and take time to examine the value (or otherwise) of what we're doing.

An anonymous angry comment on one of my posts, obviously by a colleague, attacked me for 'gossiping' (presumably this referred to me saying openly to a friend the same things that I've heard others say behind their hand, things that my colleagues admit they're concerned about but are scared to say openly). 

To that, I repeat that some things that impact on the children's welfare need to be brought into the light and discussed freely.  Should I have raised the matters discussed with my superior first? Most would say 'yes'; but as a casual staff member who was aware that I might not have the full story, I felt there was value in ensuring that my view wasn't out of step and based on too small a window of experience  by finding out if another respected colleague shared my opinion.  Is that gossiping? I think not, given that the issues raised had professional impact.

The sad part here is that someone felt impelled to draw attention to themselves by sharing what was a private exchange between colleagues with my boss, before challenging me personally.  That's cowardice.  That's playing games.  That's not about the children's welfare, it's about advancing one's political position.

The same anonymous writer called me unprofessional (an allegation I've dealt with in my previous post) and suggested I'd contravened 'centre policies' by telling some of the anecdotes I've shared with you. I have very strong views on that- views which can be supported by peer-reviewed research. 

And so we come to blogging, and the power of our stories.