ramblings Archives - Andrew Waterhouse Portfolio

Treat Others How You’d Like to Be Treated

It’s been a while since I last blog posted! Plenty has changed since 2019. Who would have thought that a freaking pandemic would bring the whole world to a screeching halt, especially in the days of modern technology?

When news first broke about the requirement to socially distance and work from home, I posted the following tweet:

Are you jumping for joy that there’s Coronavirus lockdown? What does that say about your life? On average, 50% of your day is spent at work. I think a lot of people have a chance to change their paths and consider if the life they once led was the one they truly wanted.

Proof: My Tweet

I wrote that tweet back in March at the start of lockdown. My family was celebrating having a few weeks off from their jobs working at school. Their reaction rubbed me up the wrong way, with phrases like “Imagine if you were a school kid, how amazing would corona be?”, inferring that ‘summer off feeling’ to be the same as a pandemic shutting their place of work. While that mentality held true for a week or two, a month into lockdown, they hated it. They wanted to be back in the swing of things. Their days lacked a cause and although wages were still coming in, there was nowhere open to spend it.

Living with regrets

Fast forward to June and my grandad passed away. It was tough to take. My inspiration, my grandfather, a light in my life gone. After 27 years’ worth of memories together, he had left us for a better place. I was fortunate enough to say my goodbyes, a privilege that few get. It had been coming, which meant that when he passed, despite the sucker-punch, I felt at peace. My mentality was he’s no longer suffering and I knew I made all the effort to make the most of our time we could have. Each visit, I knew could potentially be the last.

The reason his death comes up in this post is because of a strange situation I found myself in afterwards. Weeks before the death in the family, I informed my small, profitable, and forward-thinking workplace of his deteriorating health situation. Now he had gone, I needed time to process before I could go back to the slog. The response back was… well. I’d have to use my holiday allowance to take the time I needed to grieve. Talk about kicking someone while they are down.

I dutifully replied to say I wouldn’t be taking allowance as its not a holiday in the slightest. For the company I helped to forge from a startup to a small business, we came to the arrangement I’d use unpaid leave to grieve for a family member.

What was stark in the family, was the difference between those treated like a number and those of whom employers cared for their employees. For instance, members of the family that loved to be away from the school in lockdown were being asked to come in the day after my Grandad’s death. I quote “You need to learn the difference between the death of a father and grandfather” as was put to my brother by his headteacher, as she reasoned why my aunt had more lenient time off.

Grieving and now offended, we sat in the garden for the majority of the three days we spent as a family. Each of us flabbergasted how in 2020 these practices are welcomed by the government. While searching for answers, I found their guidance on bereavement policy was piss-poor. “There is no statutory bereavement leave in the UK. Employees can take a “reasonable” number of days off as time off for dependants but this time is to deal with an emergency situation, including the death of a dependant.” That’s right, there is no requirement for any days at all for death in the family. I understand there is a fine balance to be made here and can be a touchy subject. For instance, who determines which family members or even friends constitute a certain time off work? In this societal mess we have today, often the structure of a nuclear household doesn’t stand as strong today. I’m not arguing that there are other touchy questions too like perhaps it could be better to be back in the office and at what point does an employer become a counsellor?

In a time where mental health is spoken more publicly in the media when it comes to the darkest corners in life, our bereavement laws just don’t stand up.

There must be a balance nowadays for employers taking care of employee welfare. I shouldn’t have to visit a doctor to be diagnosed with stress or depression to simply have a meaningful allowance to grieve.

Thankfully, I can look back during this time with no regrets. I treated my Grandad how I’d like to be treated. I treated my employer how I’d like to be treated in their shoes, but I got spat in my face.

The better you treat people, the fewer regrets you will have as you treated that person with respect to how you’d like to be treated yourself.

What was ironic was how members of the family who celebrated the school during lockdown were treated. They had to drag their heels back into work and the headteacher I mentioned earlier, staggers belief she still has a job. Spending those few days together as a family, we openly discussed how appalling we were each being treated. We were treated like a number, to complete a job. Referring back to my tweet at the start of lockdown, do I want that in my life?

As a reminder, I wrote “Are you jumping for joy that there’s Coronavirus lockdown? What does that say about your life? On average, 50% of your day is spent at work. I think a lot of people have a chance to change their paths and consider if the life they once led was the one they truly wanted.” At the time, glad for the position I held. But business finds its way to irritate and politics to get in the way of career progression. I was sick of promised never-to-arrive benefits and broken promises. I seized the chance to change my career.

Fast forward just two months, and we each have new positions

My aunt, offended by her employer’s attitude towards her nephew swiftly left her position as a teaching assistant. She was snapped up by a new school, surrounded by happy and engaged staff.

My brother handed in his notice last week and is about to start his PE teaching career on a fresh footing.

As for me, I’m about to start my dream job as a Web Designer.

I can only speak for myself, but when I handed in my notice on Monday just gone, my employer was taken aback. One of the first employees they had hired, who put much of the work into where they are today was leaving with his head held high. The roles and responsibilities I have picked up will be further diluted into those who remain to be treated as second class. The revolving door of business simply doesn’t care.

Which, brings me to a conclusion in a rambling, yet direct blog post. The better you treat people, the fewer regrets you will have as you treated that person with respect to how you’d like to be treated yourself. It’s a fantastic mantra to follow in all works of life and in business too, a phrase that popped into my head while on my lockdown walks. It’s not that I’m asking for the world, it’s asking for a progressive and trusting workplace. There’s a brilliant book recommended to me during my time working at Disney Interactive. It’s called Delivering Happiness: A Path to Profits, Passion, and Purpose by Tony Hsieh. I highly recommend giving that a read to show how a business should treat its people – they are the foundation of where businesses are today.

Whenever I have left a job, often I am offered a counter-offer to stay. Whether that be more money, more responsibilities, or a fresh job title… I’m afraid by then, the damage has already been done. Often you see companies try to make amends where they haven’t done the right thing at the start. If you treat people how you’d like to be treated, then you should have very few regrets. The same goes for business.

I finish this blog post with a brilliant video from the great Steve Jobs. While writing, it had been re-posted to my LinkedIn feed by Matt Carroll, my former mentor at Disney Interactive and current COO of Sports Interactive. I think sometimes, things aren’t a coincidence. And whether you have seen the below before or not, give it the 15-minute watch it deserves. That spark of inspiration may be just what you need today.

I’m about to pull myself from the despair you often find in IT Support and I couldn’t be happier. Treating my employers with the utmost respect and creating them stunning websites beyond my job description brought me here. I know there are bigger problems in the world than climbing the career ladder during this time. But if you look back on your life with a huge number of regrets, what kind of a life did you lead? Stand up for yourselves, because no one else will.

Till the next time folks, I’m about to start my dream job!

Quality over Quantity: Summer Camp Book News

It’s been a while since the last blog, and it’s about time to address that. So this post is an update on how we’re moving the summer camp book project forward. It’s time to talk quality over quantity.
It grinds my gears when you get stuck into a really good, new TV programme and then out of the blue, it’s pulled by the network. At least, that was back in the day when TV was the powerhouse it once was. I’d like to draw a parallel to my work for There’s No Place Like Summer Camp.
Writing There’s No Place Like Summer Camp has been a work of passion. I’ve been carefully crafting my first book to show the world the inner workings of my summer camp story. And over the same period, I’ve taken up projects to help promote it, to get the name out there and offer advice to budding volunteers.
Sticking to a weekly schedule, one podcast accompanied by a lengthy blog post would be up every Tuesday. A few months went by and I thought ‘what better platform to promote than YouTube?’ So then I was uploading one YouTube video, one podcast and a blog post every Tuesday. Quickly, life got in the way. And honestly? It’s worn me out.

There’s No Place Like Summer Camp Book Update

I’ve seen other authors do the same thing, focusing far too much of their time on things that their reader won’t give two shits about. And once I recognised that same feeling in myself, I knew it was time to take a step back.
It’s an unfortunate place to be in, but I think pulling the plug on such marketing activities would be beneficial for my well-being and the book in the long run. For the last 6 months I haven’t been pouring my time into the content of the very thing I’m so passionate to get on the shelves. There’s No Place Like Summer Camp will come, but I have to emphasise I do have a full-time job. It’ll come when it’s ready and I’m ready.

Quality over Quantity

There’s an old adage in the phrase ‘Quality over quantity’ and I believe that to ring true here.
There’s a slim chance I may revisit this in the future. But for now, I’m putting this routine down to one side. I’ll be keeping the podcast, YouTube content and blog posts up for entertainment, reference and advice.
Keep your eyes peeled for the next blog post, as I’ll return to my usual ramblings. They’ll be coming as and when.
So, I’ll see you about.
Thanks for reading,
A.

Interested in reading more about the summer camp book? Check out There’s No Place Like Summer Camp available for pre-order on the store.

What It’s like to Be Independent

Since the move north to Manchester, I’ve been independent. Living by myself in the ‘grim north’. It’s coming up to two years living away from the parents and I’ve found a few quirky things that happen to you when you move out. So, this is a lighthearted list of things I’ve learned since moving out of the parent’s pad.

I have to make a point of saying that I moved into houseshares. None of the people I’ve ever moved in with have been people I knew beforehand.

Me, Myself and I

One of the things that I learned happened a good six months after I had settled in. It was that rearranging a room can make the world of difference. Moving for the first time was daunting and exciting. I never moved away for university so this was the first break from Potters Bar, my hometown. When I first moved, I made minor tweaks here and there in the room so my TV could fit, but apart from that, the room was left as is. It was only till I met my girlfriend that I realised I could shift the room about. Having someone else’s set of eyes helped to realise the potential for the room and soon enough, we got shifting. It made the world of difference and sure, I’ve done this to my room back at the parents… but being in someone else’s house… I guess it just took that bit of time till it felt like it was my own.

Next up. I learned that it’s down to you to sort yourself out. You’ve only got your own company when moving to a new city. The independence factor means it’s your choice how you live your life. The clubs you sign up for, what you do with your spare time and how many spare toilet rolls you have to hand.

That leads me on to sharing things. In the first house I stayed in, no one would go out of their way to replace the washing up liquid, dishwater tablets or the like. Its a dog eat dog world out there and I sure as hell ain’t buying those everytime.

Housemates from Hell

Before I left my parents, I thought most people were normal. By normal, I mean you see them out and about in town, can have a drink together and socialize, if only briefly. However, when you move into a house full of strangers, you find this is not the case. Particularly in the first house, I could swear I was living with at least two convicts and one psychopath.

The reasoning for this judgment stems from the constant passive aggressive notes on a whiteboard. When the landlords first got this new house, they thought it would be a fantastic idea to have a communal whiteboard so we could have a central place of communicating out to everyone. How wrong they were.

Coming home to a house, not home(!) full of strangers who wouldn’t speak to each other is bizarre. I never thought such an environment would exist where you share a house with twelve other people and not become friends. But for the majority of them, it remains like that to this day. When I moved in, I was in the dark on how crappy the living situation was there. You walk by people you’re sharing a house with and don’t utter a word to each other. Beyond passive aggressive messages on a board, that was your only communication with some people. Moving out opened my eyes into the world of sharing houses with strangers. There are plenty of personalities I hadn’t met before and a lot of people who lived very sheltered and weird lives. That house was toxic so praise the lord that I made the move to a better home.

The first time a housemate moved out, I was a bit stunned. I thought it was this huge news while other housemates didn’t really bat an eyelid. Over time though, I’ve become used to it too. Sure, it is big news when someone moves out, but I’m not as taken aback as I once was. Living with parents is a definite reason for that quirk of mine. No one left my parents for a good twenty years. Out in the real world? It happens all the time.

Food, glorious food

Living alone meant I learned a load of new things about food and how I was brought up. Now every single purchase was coming out of my own back pocket, I needed to be less disposable. Coming from a family that seemed to believe that only frozen food goes in the freezer, it took time for me to adjust to freezing refrigerated things.

Take bread for instance. I never froze bread before! I didn’t even know you could freeze that. But heck, up in Manchester I wasn’t letting this go to waste. Not before long, my freezer was crammed full of foods that would otherwise be chucked.

All the small changes meant that I was shopping much cheaper. And no longer did I look down upon Aldi and Lidl with disgust like I would down south. Shopping at these giants meant I was spending £30 a week on food when it would otherwise be £50.

I’m a big fan of food (as you can perhaps tell by now!) and now in the spurt of becoming ‘a man’, I’d save food from dinner for leftovers as lunch for the next day. That’s not normal in my small corner of the world. If its leftovers, it’s going in the bin. Damn my upbringing was weird.

Every landlord thinks they are above average

I’ve been in a fortunate enough position where the two landlords I have had have been marvellous. Touchwood, I hope this to remain the case till I won’t need one. When I came to view houses, I found that all landlords think they are above average. Whether it is the price, the extras on top or quality of the room, most of them rate themselves highly.

And that’s not a bad thing! In fact, it’s a thing we are all guilty of. I’d rate my football skills “above average”, my tennis “above average” and my Call of Duty skill “above average”. I can’t even remember my last tennis match. This is starting to become a ramble and it’s perhaps a topic for a future blog post. But, most people think they are above average. We as people don’t like to be tarred with simply ‘average’. I’d need to do some more digging on the topic, but it’s a thing trust me!

Back on topic.

Most landlords think they are above average and I’ve been thankful I haven’t had any bad experiences. But, being in the market for a house and moving to Manchester has meant I’ve learned of the scummy landlords. Allow me to provide this one small piece of insight…

So a friend moved into a house without seeing it first. Rookie mistake I know, but still. So he moves in with all his stuff and thankfully the room he has is fine. Situated in a renovated factory turned block of flats, it’s quirky. He wanders around to greet his new housemates (who aren’t mental by the

way) and turns out one of them lives in a room without a window! It’s practically a cupboard! His tenancy was all done through an agency and my friend never did see the landlord which is odd. But it goes to show that there are some dodgy landlords out there, trying to squeeze as many housemates as possible in.

The f***ing chores

Wow, a swear word in the title. But it’s justified.

Moving out of the parents’ place, you kind of leave a team behind. Sure, I knew that I’d have to do my own washing from now on… But I never thought of it as leaving a team behind. Someone would pick up who’s cooking that night… Someone would iron my clothes… Someone would check that my car has its MOT. Living by yourself, you have a lot more stresses on your plate. It’s strange to see that in the 21st century, where we have all this cushy life away from Mother Nature, we have all these stresses. It is no wonder that mental health is on the agenda.

I’ve grown up while moved away. I hate to say it, but I’m becoming old. Twenty five doesn’t have the same ring to it as twenty one once did. But, what can I do about time? I’m no Doctor Who. And no… I don’t like Doctor Who btw.

Since making the move, I haven’t looked back. Living independently has forced me to become rounded (both figuratively and literally!). I’ve learned the best washing machine settings for a quick wash. I get excited when buying a new sieve for the house. And I love meeting new housemates.

Living 200 miles away from my family does have its drawbacks. Heck, can a man be homesick from time to time? But for now, Manchester is ticking all the boxes for me. I’ve settled.

I’ll see you in the next one. My gut says it won’t be a long wait.