A year as Capital of Culture - from the corner of my eye.

A thin white layer is covering the ground, finally lightning up this very dark fall. Temperatures have mostly been around freezing point or warmer making it impossible for winter to make it’s entrance. I am not complaining. The later it’s arriving, the shorter winter. Works fine for me. Although even I love a white Christmas so I hope it stays now.

And I am sure it made last night even more festive. Wrapping up this very special year. 

Umeå, the European Capital of Culture 2014. We have lived with that epithet for a very long time now. First through the protracted application process, then winning the title and years of preparing. And so, finally, realizing it. In retrospect I would say it’s amazing how a small city like Umeå could pull this off. It is quite an accomplishment.

Umeå is, by nature and tradition a city of culture. There is so much going on here in every art form there is no way you can take part of everything even a regular year. But Umeå 2014 has been crazy. From the inauguration on the frozen Umeå River late January until the closing bash last night at Rådhustorget (the City Hall Square) in downtown Umeå.

There have been numerous WOWs and of course a lot of skepticism and criticism among the inhabitants of Umeå regarding the year that just passed. I think though, and hope, that we, as a city, have gained self confidence and self esteem lasting for a long time.

As for myself, I have followed Umeå being the Capital of Culture through media, Facebook and friends. Missing the inauguration on the river was a big disappointment to me, although everyone telling me how cold it was, how crowded and how they hardly saw or heard anything, I must admit was comforting. A couple of weeks ago I thought it would be possible for me to attend the closing ceremony instead, but I turned acute last week, so that was out of the question.

Being physically challenged for many years now, I have adapted to not being a part of the cultural life in Umeå the way I would wish. I feel like I am watching it from the corner of my eye. I know it’s out there but I am in here. And that’s how it is. Therefore I am so grateful for the two things I had sat my eyes on and actually could be a part of.

The amazing outdoor opera Elektra from Richard Strauss performed by Norrlandsoperan (the Umeå opera house) was a show and an experience so overwhelming it took focus from my pain for a couple of hours. Thanks to my friend Agneta and a garden chair in which I could half lie half sit, I got to be a part of a collective Umeå memory that will last for at least two generations

And then there was the choir festival. The idea which I had been carrying since the late eighties, this summer realized by Kammarkören Sångkraft (the Sångkraft Chamber Choir. A Choral Midsummer Light’s Dream - Umeå International Choir Festival, taking place during the Midsummer week, was a huge success even though the rain was poring down and the nights were at freezing point.

There was no way for me, of course, to be a part of the festival the way I had pictured through the years leading up to this. But thanks to extreme will power and many helping hands I could do the assignment I had taken on, to be the MC of the main evening concerts. Together with Agneta and my sister Kia I announced vocal ensembles from nine countries during the White Night Concerts. I don’t think anyone in the audience could tell that one of the ladies in the spot light at the front of the stage, between every set staggered back stage and collapsed on a foldable bed.

Last night Umeå said goodbye to being the European Capital of Culture. From what I can see from the pictures it looks like a grand closure celebration. The former City Hall was lit up in a spectacular light show I would have loved to see. But things are what they are. And I am happy that Umeå the European Capital of Culture on the whole has been a huge success. We have all done a good job. Even I! 

Swedish governing in historic limbo/part 4

So, the worst case scenario is happening. This week Sverigedemokraterna brought the Swedish government down on it’s knees. We have a government crisis.

In September the Swedish people voted in a way that put governing in a historic limbo, and the outcome was a weak minority government. A very unstable situation.

There are eight parties in the Swedish parliament: Moderaterna (the party most to the right), Folkpartiet, Kristdemokraterna (the Christian Democrats) and Centerpartiet, those are what we call the middle parties. There are also of course Socialdemokraterna (the Social Democrats), Miljöpartiet (the Swedish green party), Vänsterpartiet (the Left party), and Sverigedemokraterna (a nationalistic, social conservative and no doubt about it racist party).

For eight years Moderaterna and the middle parties formed a government under the name The Alliance. In September though, the result of the Swedish vote was the Social Democrats and the Green Party governing together. I was happy, although the minority situation made governing unstable. What was most scary though was Sverigedemokraterna having 13% (a totally unreal and terrifying number) of the vote and therefore becoming the power of balance in the 2014 Swedish government.

The main issue for Sverigedemokraterna is to put a stop to immigration. And their message this fall has been them voting for the budget that would be “the least harmful to Sweden” in that sense.

This week the government did present their budget. And the Alliance presented a different one. Sverigedemokraterna voted nay to the government budget. And yes to the Alliance. Not that the Alliance one was very different on the subject immigration. No, the purpose was to make the government fall.

“As we will vote nay to any budget!”. Was their message. Their assignment is to create political chaos. They can put any government down on any budget every six month.

So, on Wednesday our Prime Minister called for a new election on March 22. There hasn’t been an extra election in Sweden since 1958. And the current Social Democrat/Green Party government will have to govern on the Alliance budget up until the election. How messed up is that?

There are too many angles to this situation being so horrible I have a hard time finding words for them, even in Swedish.

87% of the Swedish people (who voted in September, which was 86% of the inhabitants), want Sweden to be a place of diversity welcoming people from other countries, weather they are Swedes moving back from abroad, professionals sponsored by companies, or refugees leaving their homelands in misery, fear and despair. 13% of the vote is for some reason terrified on this subject and they are now in power! Divide and rule.

“We are looking forward to the March election, it will be the referendum on immigration!”. It was when I heard those words I realized that this had been their agenda. This had been their goal all along. And all the other parties were behind in the dark. I felt sick.

So what are the other parties doing in this extreme situation? The established parties, most of them having been there forever, some (like the Christian Democrats and the Green Party) making their entrance in my life time.

You would expect them to be sensible and simply come together in this terrifying case, finding a solution where a majority could run the country together. Nope.

Stefan Lövén, the leader of the Social Democrats and the Swedish Prime Minister met with the Alliance leaders on Tuesday night asking them for collaboration. The response was no. Not even a maybe. There was not the tiniest crack for negotiations. Instead they chose to let a nationalistic, social conservative and no doubt about it racist party have the victory.

Watching it I feel like they are all in their Terrible Twos. I am right and you are wrong! This is mine! I don’t want to play with you! I feel ashamed for them.

Sverigedemokraterna in the parliament are mostly angry young men who in four years (that’s how long they have been there) have become insidious strategists, a scary troop in expensive suites having a vote about our country. But the established parties should have more sense then acting like aggrieved teenagers. This isn’t just a political quarrel, this is a party starting a war within our own country. How can it not be that seven experienced parties see that and put a stop to it together?

The Swedish people had a vote in September. Are we to blame? Do we get the politicians we deserve? No. 87% voted for levelheaded men and women we had confidence in. We put Sweden in their hands. And they are handing it over to 13% dangerous dark powers. I feel betrayed.

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. 

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.

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!

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.

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.