Nov 30, 2014

This is the case. My case/part 4

It was surreal. And it didn’t end well. 
To be in a room where people are talking about you. Evaluating and judging you. Above your head. And in my case literary, as I was lying on my portable sun bed during the hearing.
Exposing myself and my most private matters before my opponents the City officials and a stone faced judge and the jurors. Being as vulnerable as someone can be, in my effort to get through that concrete wall up on the podium. To reach them. I failed.
I have never been in a court room before. I entered led by my lawyer. The judge, three jurors and the notary were in their seats at a podium. My lawyer and I on the right side of the room, three City officials on the left. My nephew Johannes and Audrey’s mother Maria were my support team, as well as a friend from my village who happens to work at the court house. They were seated behind me, down by the door. It felt good.
The two officials who are handling my case for the City and the ones who decided on not giving me the assistance that I need (and that’s why we are in the court room in the first place) dislike me. The two women in their early thirties really dislike me. And we are in court. The judge and the jurors are a concrete wall. Not unfriendly, but a concrete wall, as they must be. And that’s the situation in the room where I am lying on my sun bed listening to them talking about me. And when I am speaking, I am naked.
I am thinking, how could I have done this alone? I am so terribly grateful to this sweet lawyer who was by my side through this process and put in I am sure three times as much work as he charged me for.
Afterwords, as I don’t have any references, I couldn’t tell how things had gone. My lawyer felt good about the situation though. And I think we all did a good job. Awara, one of the Civil Care owners (my home care company) and Trouble 2 being witnesses. And the lawyer and me.
The verdict came a week earlier then expected. And it turned out things hadn’t gone well at all. My appeal was entirely rejected.
This I was prepared for, of course. It was my worst case scenario. My appeal was divided in two parts though. We knew one of them would be difficult, as an acclaim would have been precidential, so the chances were not that good.  But we were hoping for the other one. It was a minor adjustment in the assistance I have already been approved of. It’s so minor I would like to explain it, to make an effort giving you a picture of how City officials on assignment helping people in need, are operating.
A week before the hearing I was suddenly approved help getting out of and into bed and out of and into my couch, to get to the bathroom. This was originally in my appeal as I had been denied help moving from lying to the bathroom and back to lying again earlier on. But, just days before the court they changed their mind. So we thought. It turned out the approval was only rising and sitting down on bed, toilet and couch. Not the few steps from my bed to the bathroom. Not the few meters from the bathroom to my couch. Now, if that is only steps and meters, can’t I do that myself? No, at my worst, there is not a chance for me to do any of this myself.
This City official procedure made so little sense we actually laughed when we got to know. Are they serious? Someone is going to help me out of bed, then leave me, come back when I have reached the bathroom, help me sit down, leave, return to help me up, leave and return when I am at the couch to help me lie down. So, what are the Civil Care staff supposed to do while I am struggling between bed and bathroom? Drive back to Umeå? Go for a walk? To be back the next minute to help me lie down? Seriously?
The procedure made so little sense we thought the judge and the jurors would see what we saw. We were wrong.
What was the other part, the difficult one? Well, it’s more complicated so it will be a separate blog subject, but it’s a vital issue and it’s crucial for me to get assistance in that matter.
It was this Tuesday when the verdict came. A week early, so I wasn’t prepared. My heart raised. I had to take care of some job issues and some urgent things on my to do list. I knew I would be a mess after opening the document. And I took many deep breaths before.
I read. And was crushed.
The judge and the jurors didn’t only appear as a concrete wall. They were. I had stood (lied) before them exposed, naked and vulnerable. I had told them about my situation,  in a court room matter-of-fact way complemented with, before the lawyer’s closing, a more from my heart (but still controlled) testimony. But they didn’t hear me.
My profession is to bring a message through. To tell a story so it touches the heart. I can trust myself on this. It’s pretty much the only thing about myself that I can trust. Until now. I should have been able to find the word that poked a tiny little whole in that concrete wall. The sentence that made the concrete crack. But I didn’t. I failed on the one thing I can do, at the most important message bringing in my life. About my life.
So what now? Well not only did I loose in court what I needed to win, but the two early thirties City officials who don’t like me, deciding about my life, won. Which means they will feel very safe denying me anything I need in the future. 

Nov 23, 2014

A new port at the Umeå River!

To watch the developer and the architect on Friday, harbor and express their happiness after years of work was amazing. Ladies and gentlemen, I am giving you Väven!
Ten years ago I produced a film for Balticgruppen, a developing company based in Umeå. Six architects on a parallell assignment were coming up with six different visions for redesigning the Umeå waterfront facing the Umeå River. Bold, brave, beautiful and surprising. The Oslo firm Snöhetta vision was the one advocated before the City, but for reasons later discussed and debated in Umeå the vision never came true. As I documented the whole process on film, being present when it happened and later watching 16 hours of footage, I have a pretty clear opinion about the circumstances, but I will save that one for my memoirs.
Umeå has been divided on the waterfront design subject, as we should. Imagine a city agreeing on a big change! Some were relieved that first vision didn’t come true, some were disappointed. I was among the latter part. Disappointed and sad. So was Balticgruppen, Snöhetta I am sure, and parts of the City Hall.
The idea of redesigning the waterfront turned into a Sleeping Beauty for quite some time, but what the City could agree on was that something needed to be done. For the same reasons as the redesigning of the Seattle waterfront: turning the city towards the water and making something ugly and deserted into a welcoming and beautiful spot for people to relax, meet and have fun. Building a new front porch.
Somewhere along the line the City and Balticgruppen started looking at an option for a main attraction on the 9 block stretch between Gamla bron (the Old Bridge) and Kyrkbron (the Church Bridge), called Staden mellan broarna (the City Between the Bridges). To make a long story very short they agreed on a building for cultural arts and invited Snöhetta as the architect along with the local White office.
Through the ten years passing since the six visions being like a love story between the City, Balticgruppen and the leading architect firms within the Nordic countries, there has been a lot of grief and frustration, even feelings of hopelessness. Therefor, the opening of the building for cultural arts Väven this weekend is an amazing milestone some of us, at times, never thought we would reach.
Väven (The Weave), where various forms of cultural expression will be woven together, harbors a new city library, the Women’s history museum, a black box, two movie theaters and much more, coffee shops, restaurant, a conference floor and two hotels within the Väven block.
The black and white glass exterior of Väven is inspired by the graphics of the birch stem, an Umeå signature. So, if you like the new building you say it’s woven into Umeå. If you utterly dislike it, your opinion is that the building looks like a cruise ship, is totally out of proportion and ruins the familiar Umeå character.
Myself, I have loved every minute of watching an ugly parking lot, an eye sore, facing the Umeå river change into a bold and beautiful building. Then, of course, I am emotionally attached to the project since my documentary ten years ago. And the fact that I am now producing a different film, where Väven is one of the main characters, makes me very grateful.
At 1PM Friday, Väven was officially opened. The vision which the Balticgruppen developer and owner Krister Olsson and Kjetil Thorsen, founding partner of Snöhetta had been carrying for years was now for real. During the weekend the people of Umeå has taken possession of the two men’s dreams, drawings, renderings, models and fantasy about a weave of arts and people at the shore of the Umeå River. The way it was a weave of people and cultures when the river was deep and the very same place was a vibrant ship port.
For me to watch the two men meet and happily hug in the middle of the Friday crowd, only minutes after the doors opened in the building they created, was a big moment. Through my films I have been allowed being an eye on the inside of this ten year process. I can’t say how grateful I am being there the historic day of the opening.

Nov 16, 2014

This is the case. My case/part 3

It’s tomorrow. It’s the day before The Day. And I am terrified.
I have spent many weeks preparing and today I am in on the home stretch. My lawyer and I have been through all the questions he is going to ask me and I have worked hard to get the answers right, not leaving anything important out. Formulating myself is my arena so I should feel somewhat safe. Now, I might if I was allowed a script or at least key words. But I am not. 
So, what do I do? I am spending the day memorizing. And it’s a lot. Don’t I trust my lawyer on doing his job. I do.
The thing is, this is about me. I will be in court tomorrow and the verdict will decide my future. My lawyer won’t be better than I have prepared him to be. I am the one giving him the information about my situation and a win or loose can depend on details I have given him or blanked out on.
It’s funny, I feel a lot as when I was a reporter at Swedish National Television briefing the host of the investigating consumers show before going live. God, make me not forget something really important!
The other thing is, in whatever situation I have been in in my life I am the one having the overview. I am the one seeing the whole picture. And outside the picture. Around the corners. And people around me trust me (for good or worse) to fix whatever it is. Now, I have never been in a court room before. I don’t see any picture what so ever. Which of course scares me like shit. So I am trying desperately to make me a picture.
The third thing is, in my life I have no experience of anyone speaking up for me. Correction, it has happened once (just a few years ago), and it was a strange, highly unexpected and wonderful treat. I was stunned. Not even in Swedish can I express the depth on an emotional level of that experience.
The past few weeks a nice young man have put in a lot more hours than he will be payed for in understanding my situation and making it a case. Trying to solve a very difficult situation for me. And tomorrow he will speak up for me in the court room. I can’t really wrap my head around it.
So, now I will spend the last hours on this home stretch memorizing as much as I can possibly do. And trust my lawyer to get me on track if I get lost. Or blanks. Or, my worst nightmare, if I pass the Fight and Flight system and go into Freeze Mode.
For now I need to stay away from the emotional part of me and keep my head clear and my body calm. And I am asking everyone out there to send good thoughts, light and love to northern Sweden Monday afternoon starting 1PM. Gosh Seattle, that’s 4AM! Okay, from you I am asking for nice dreams for me or maybe set your alarm on a powerful meditation before the sun rises. Thank you!

Nov 9, 2014

A Washington Initiative for change

The experience was surreal. A sleepy Sunday on a Seattle Downtown escalator, surrounded by people wearing NRA badges. Related to what’s happened in Washington State these past weeks, the memory comes back.
On October 24 a teenage boy shot five other teenagers and then himself in the Marysville-Pilchuck Highschool cafeteria in Snohomish County about an hour north of Seattle. Today five of the children are dead, only one survived. No, they weren’t young men or women, they were 14 and 15 year old children, three girls and two boys. Now dead by a gun. The reason for the deeply tragic shooting including relatives and members of the Tulalip Tribe will probably never be clarified. Funerals and memorial services so far have gathered thousands. 
The U.S. Mid Term Elections were held November 4. As always in a U.S election the different states are also going to the ballots about state initiatives. Which means, you give your vote pro or con a proposition which only affects your state. For example, Washington and Colorado earlier voted for legalization of marijuana for recreational use. Oregon followed in this election.
Now, on November 4 the people of Washington State were offered to vote on five ballot measures, one of them was Initiative 594, concerning background checks for firearm sales and transfers. The initiative makes sure anyone buying a gun in Washington State passes the same background check, no matter where they buy the gun and no matter whom they buy it from.
So, what about the experience on the Seattle Downtown escalator?
Well, it was a Sunday, I think in 1997. I had left my family in our Boyer Avenue home and took the car to Convention Center which I did three times a week to get my workout at Gold’s Gym. I would guess Trouble & Trouble were sitting at the dining room table drawing or playing with their next door friends Carel and Nick. 
I parked in the Convention Center garage and took, as always, the escalator to the gym floor. Although the Convention Center is a very public place, it is often surprisingly quiet. Not this Sunday though. A lot of people, a lot of badges. A lot of pins. I glanced at the messages. And remembered. This was the weekend for the National Rifle Association convention. I was surrounded by people who’s opinion was owning guns is more or less a human right.
Sensing the situation now I feel like I wanted to make myself as little as possible. Invisible. I was scared. I was surrounded by a culture so foreign to me I felt like I had landed on a different planet with evil aliens. Or being an extra in the escalator scene of a violent thriller.
What made the scene even more unreal was the fact there weren’t only men on the set. There were women. There were families. There were children. Children the same age as Trouble & Trouble momentary drawing at the dining room table on a slow Sunday afternoon. Children wearing pins saying “Don’t touch my gun”. It was surreal.
I feel now like that scene was in slow motion. I was at my step of the escalator standing as still as possible. Looking straight forward, glancing at the pins from the corner of my eye. Like, as if I didn’t move I wouldn’t stir the situation up and make it explosive.
Now, on November 4 Washington State voted yes on Initiative 594 and became the first state in the U.S. to close the background checks loophole by popular vote. 594 extends the currently used criminal and public safety background checks by licensed dealers to cover all firearm sales and transfers, including gun show and online sales, with reasonable exceptions. This is something to celebrate!
Some say this won’t change anything. If you want a gun you will get yourself a gun. And I’m sure that’s true. But it’s a start. It won’t bring Andrew, Nate, Zoe, Gia, Shaylee and Jaylen in Marysville back to life. And there will be more shootings, in schools, and elsewhere. But the people of Washington has made a strong mark. As the first state in the U.S. they want a change for the future.

Nov 2, 2014

This is the case. My case/part 2

November 17. That’s the date for my case in the court hearing (Förvaltningsrätten). I was summoned the other day.
Right now I feel a little bit better about the situation. I have a strong and clear attestation (is that a word that works here?) from my doctor. Another one from a nurse specialized in pain who have seen me for several years. A third describing every situation throughout the day and the help I need in each one of them. And Awara who is one of the owners of Civil Care (my home care company), Josephine (who works for them and also is my neighbor) and Trouble 2 are approved and summoned as witnesses.
But the reason to why I Friday afternoon felt like a glass of champagne is that I got myself a lawyer!
Very few lawyers are specialized in this field. There isn’t a lot of money to make on poor, sick, disabled and vulnerable people. And the cases don’t make head lines in the news papers. A bit like why pain is not an interesting research field, it won’t give you a Nobel Prize.
In Umeå there is only one law firm with some knowledge in these matters. I called them a while ago and talked to a vey nice young man who couldn’t take me on because of time issues.
- If I can’t put love into a case I have to say no.
A lawyer talking in terms of love! Although my disappointment I was smiling at my end of the line, saying, at least I know you are the right person for me.
Now, my hearing was postponed and the nice young man agreed on meeting me. Which happened Friday late afternoon. When most everyone was preparing for Halloween parties or lit candles on their loved ones graves on All Saints Eve, he drove all the way to the end of the road in my little village and sat with me for two hours listening to my long and sad story.
He listened. He took it all in. He questioned everything I questioned in the City decision denying me the help I need. He read the different attestations telling about my physical conditions and my situation and he said:
- We’ve got a case.
Oh how I had dreamt of those words!
We have no clue of course. A court is a court. And even if we should win, the City might very well appeal to a higher court (Kammarrätten) and I would have to continue my fight. Fight, fight, fight.
It’s interesting. I am discovering something I didn’t know about myself. A court is a court. It’s square. Strict with sharp corners. Steel and concrete. That’s the nature of it and that is how it must be. As a pretty articulate (in my mother tongue) person, communicative and with some talent in connecting to people, I am suddenly realizing the world around me being bendable. I’ve never thought about it that way. Plastic. Ductile. Moldable. The world around me, to some degree, is shaped depending on how well I am doing making contact with people and formulating myself. It sounds manipulative, breaking it down like this, I hope it isn’t though.
But here I am, on my way to court, in a matter about life, and the talents that I trust (without being aware of it) are insignificant. No good. Or even to my disadvantage. I need to really watch myself. Make myself a bit square. Not to come across as a manipulator. And ruin things for myself.
So. It’s Friday evening. The sweet lawyer is petting my kitten who hasn’t left his side during the two hours. He is telling me that he will be with me during the hearing and bring my claim in court. And from now on, he will be the one doing the job.
I can’t express the relief and gratitude I am feeling. The whole thing is still extremely scary. This is serious. But I am not alone anymore. We have a case.