On cafes, curtains and clientele
I don’t wish to suggest that a whole industry of workers speak in a certain way, but making sweeping generalisations seems to be the order of the day, so I am going to give it a go.
I guess we are all prone to institutionalisation pretty easily. Just ask Prince Harry (HRH). I’ve only heard the term “challenging client” from a certain organisation, and I do still wonder at the audacity of a white middle class man to say that about two black working class people (who were obviously not in the room because imagine a service inviting them into a “professional” space) but hohum.
The newspeak around terms like “client”, “challenging”, “non-engager”, “hard to reach” has been written about before.
They’re often terms used by professionals via a referral (and usually without their consent to be spoken about in this way). Just ask the person I’ve recently started working with who was deemed “too high risk” by another service. Or the person who was deemed “sufficiently suicidal” for support, from another.
Recently Rosa*, who I work with, moved house. As Rosa is still awaiting a social worker, and as they have been feeling a little isolated, we took a trip to a local community centre. We spoke to a perfectly pleasant person who walked us down the street to enquire about services available in the local area, (particularly in the knitting department).
I mean no disrespect but there was something about the way this lanyard-wearer spoke to me (how can you know who the support workers are, unless you can distinguish them with a lanyard?). And then there was something about the way he spoke to Rosa. And I have to say there’s a pattern, and herein is my generalization. Saviours, sorry I mean, Support workers talk to what they perceive as “clients”, in an odd way.
It’s hard to describe, so I’ll attempt to do so by being hopeful for once and write of three instances where workers in a situation, spoke to people… er normally.
One was with Rosa. It was recently when they were sorting out curtains. Turns out Rosa has struck up some kind of relationship with the shop owner, and he was laughing and joking with her. It felt like the opposite approach of the support workers I’ve seen interact with her. And I have to say it made me wonder, if I had ever been “like that” around Rosa. I’m certain I have.
I don’t know how best to describe it. It’s a bit like the Godmother in Fleabag I think? Do message me if you have any suggestions for how to describe it.
Another normal interaction was one the other week in a wonderful café I often frequent. The person I work with popped in, and asked to use the loo before they joined me for a cuppa. They seemed a little sad. On their way back from the loo, they got talking to the café owner, and started laughing over something. When David then joined me at the table, they seemed slightly lighter than when they had first walked in. We meet there regularly now, after too many months of frequenting the hipster one around the corner, and the staff always greet us with a friendly smile and chat.
And finally there’s Pret. I couldn’t mention a café without Pret right? I think that Simpsons scene is kind of out of date these days.
During Everyone In, the hotels I visited to meet someone, often had piles – and I mean piles – of Pret food in the lobby. Word was, that a lot of it got thrown away. Afterall there’s only so many Pret sandwiches one can take. Pret do this – they talk about it, that they give leftover food to “the homeless”.
Anyway, my favourite Pret (which shall remain nameless), has a frequent visitor, who I have also come to know, and who I also have a brief chat with when I see them out and about. They often arrive at their local Pret with luggage, quite a lot of luggage. And this is most days. When they arrive, a friendly member of staff often leads them into the bathroom and then soon after they receive an (I assume, from my ivory tower), free coffee. No questions asked, no referral form, no “what’s wrong with you” as a route to getting support.
My point is, Pret can give away all the sandwiches it wants (to people who probably would prefer something hot for their dinner), but nothing can replace a kind word or action. Sure food can be part of these acts of kindness – but one without the other surely isn’t quite right.
I wager these small acts from shop and café staff mean more than a referral; or a signposting to yet another service that will probably either say “no”, or put you on a waiting list. Perhaps we should replace all services with cafes?
*As ever specific details, names etc, may be adjusted to protect privacy.