Introduced By Amber Hall

Spring is in full swing here in the UK and I’ve found my mood lifted by the brighter weather and longer days. I hope it’s a feeling shared, readers – it’s a miracle what a little sunshine can do!

Our theme this month continues to be ‘Misunderstandings’ and I wanted to explore the age-old adage ‘looks can be deceiving’. It’s the idea that outward appearances can be misleading; that what’s on the surface reveals nothing of the truth.

Those of you who’ve followed my page for a while will know I’m a working-class writer, and that my class background informs much of my work. But I’m often told that I don’t “look” working-class. No one has ever cared to elaborate, but I know what they mean. I’ve been to university; my accent isn’t strong any more (it was bullied out of me, to tell you the truth); I write for a living. It’s classism, obviously. Informed by exploitative documentaries and poverty porn, people tend to have a narrow view about what ‘working-classness’ is. I talk to my Jewish partner about this a lot, because he, too, is often told he doesn’t “look” Jewish. I’m sure in most cases the intention isn’t to offend, but it’s biased, nonetheless.

As writers, we have the power to break stereotypes. Preconceptions and prejudices can be entrenched or dismantled, depending on how a story is told. One of the reasons we working-class folk are thought of in such clichéd terms, is because of the limited kinds of stories that exist out there about our lives and culture.

The pieces I’ve chosen for my page this month explore the idea of appearances and highlight the many, often nuanced, ways we might pass judgement.

First, Deputy Editor Claire Buss writes beautifully about her son, and the ways people misconstrue the symptoms of autism.

He Looks Normal

I always feel I have to explain. My son – he looks normal. Whatever normal is these days. But when he interacts with others, the differences are there. He’s drawn to play with younger toys, interacts better with younger children and still enjoys TV shows for primary school children. He loves sound: making sounds, listening to sounds. And he is loud. Very, very loud. He does not understand social norms or react to social cues. He does not understand why he has no friends.

People can easily misunderstand him as rude – because he’s loud, he talks over people, he doesn’t look at you when he speaks, if he replies to you at all. When told he is on the spectrum, people assume he must have a superpower, because don’t they all? My son cannot do Maths and what he masters one day is instantly forgotten the next. His handwriting requires a master’s degree in decryption. He dislikes Science. No obvious academic superpower here. And yet… his memory is fantastic, when he wants it to be. And he loves sports, despite his dyspraxic difficulties. He will be your loudest cheerleader.

My son competes in karate competitions, in Kata: a structured, choreographed sequence of movements. This is almost a contradiction in itself, because Kata requires precision and focus, two things he struggles with. He is the U14 English Silver Medallist Champion. In the intellectually impaired category. It’s not a comfortable label for me. I don’t like to think of my child as being impaired in any way. But I am still the first one to explain. My son, he is autistic.

© Claire Buss, 2025

Find out more about Claire’s writing and books on her website: www.clairebuss.co.uk and connect with her on Instagram: @grasshopper2407.

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Next, ‘Thursday Connectors’ editor Farzana Hakim highlights the prejudice faced by wearers of the hijab.

The Feminist And The Lady In A Hijab: The Interview

“You can’t be an advocate for Women’s Voices!”

“Why?”

“Because of that cloth around your head!”

“So?”

“You’ve been forced by your men to cover your hair like that!”

“You think so?”

“It shows you have no voice yourself, under that layered veil of oppression!’

“Really?”

“Pull it off and reveal God’s beauty to the world!”

“Am I that ugly to you?”

“I’m sure your hair is long and silky. Show it off!”

“How does any of this restrict me in empowering women and running these events?”

“I’ve just told you!”

“Seriously?”

“You can’t stand on the podium claiming to inspire others while wearing the biggest symbol of oppression!”

“Yet, you don’t even know anything about me, do you?”

“You’re just not the perfect candidate to be telling thousands of women to break free from shackles and all, when I can’t get over you wearing the hijab!”

“Well, what can I do to make you unsee my hijab and see me as the woman I am?”

“Your credentials and references and experiences in the field are brilliant, by the way. Honestly, your application stood out like a shining star amongst the others.”

“I don’t understand this. What actually seems to be the problem in hiring me?”

“Come back in a week or so. How about going for a haircut, a bob, maybe? And ditch the scarf!”

Speechless…

“Or if you really need to wear it, try a boho look instead and have it around your neck. That’s real effective for a women’s event!”

Abruptly, getting up from the chair and turning towards the exit…

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Still facing the other way, gripping the door handle… “I won’t be back in a week.”

“Why?”

“You aren’t a person I wish to work with.”

“Oh?”

“Because of a piece of clothing that has nothing to do with oppression nor my story, your mind is clouded with misunderstandings and judgements about me.”

“What?”

“You don’t know anything about me, my religion or my culture, or how thousands of women see me and my story and feel motivated and empowered to make their lives better and follow their passions, as I have done.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I may not be your average, white, middle-class, Oxbridge-educated woman claiming to have rescued thousands of ‘so-called’ needy women from shackles and all, but I’m the average working-class, British Asian woman, who lives her life every day, fighting battles of identity and discrimination from people like you, who have no idea at all.”

“Are you really talking to me like that?”

Turning back to face the ‘feminist’…

“Why is your voice breaking? And why the tears? OK, listen, I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you.”

Wiping tears and stomping towards the desk…

“Hey, I said I’m sorry, what are you doing?”  Feminist stiffens with fear in her high-back chair.

Lady in the hijab grabs her handbag from the desk and rushes out the room, slamming the door behind her.

Feminist drinks a glass of water.

© Farzana Hakim, 2025

Connect with Farzana on X: @farzanahakim.

 

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Finally, we have an excerpt from Eithne Cullen’s second novel, Never Not In My Thoughts. Eithne is our ‘Thoughtful Tuesdays’ editor and, as the piece reminds us, it perfectly encapsulates this month’s theme.

From Never Not In My Thoughts

On reaching the BBC building, Martin rummaged in his rucksack for the letter telling him where to present himself and who to ask for. A huge motorcycle pulled up at the side of the road. He looked up to see a well-built, leather-clad man step onto the pavement. He pulled off his helmet and a revealed a thick neck and shaved head. His appearance was really quite startling. His ears were pierced many times, as was his face – his nose and eyebrows. Martin was a little taken aback; it was quite unusual to see so many piercings on one person at that time. He realised he must be staring and was scared this huge man might turn on him; he busied himself looking in his bag. He found his paper and looked up again in time to see the biker shrug his jacket off, drape it over his shoulder and walk away from him. In doing this, he revealed a mass of tattoos on his arms and neck, in places he looked almost blue, there was so much ink on him. Martin found the correct door and went into the lobby of the studio.

The person who met him was a welcoming, well-spoken young man who introduced himself as Sam. He helped Martin fill in the security forms, found him a visitor’s badge and took him to a large studio. It was not by any means luxurious, a large room with lots of chairs. He showed Martin the room behind the glass where the recording would be made. Martin could see the producers and technicians seated behind the control panels, busy at work, but happy to break off from their work to wave at the author and welcome him to the studio. Sam took him to a table where they helped themselves to tea and biscuits. He chatted in a very relaxed, confident way and when Martin mentioned leading lights of the BBC, Sam led him into a corridor where there were some photos of stars from the past, all recording at this very studio. By the time they returned to the big room, they could hear the voices from the control box. The team was ready to record. They began.

Martin was transported, instantly, into the world of his story. Sipping his tea, he heard the rich tones of a man’s voice articulating each word, with gravity and expression that made Martin feel at ease. He and Sam picked up their cups and drifted to the window to look into the control box. As they headed that way, Sam asked him what he thought. Martin was really enthusiastic about the voice, perfect for the story. Did he detect an accent? Yes, Sam told him, this is Liam – a fine actor with a little touch of an Irish accent; it suited the story, didn’t it? And Martin thought it did. They’d reached the window, now. And Martin looked in to see the biker, so huge and inky, perched on a stool with headphones on his large, cropped head. And he thought what a fool he had been to judge by appearance, if he’d been able to pick a voice to narrate his story, he could never have come up with one so apt, so perfect for the tale it was telling.

When the recording was over, Martin and Sam went into the control box and he was shown the desk, they explained the way some of the equipment worked and he met Liam. He thanked him warmly for the expression in his voice and the way the story had come across. Liam was, obviously, grateful for the feedback and shook his hand warmly. 

Heading back to the tube, he thought about how funny the children would find his story. He’d enjoy telling Jim all about the BBC and Iris would be delighted to hear he was going to be on the “wireless” – she’d be sure to tell all her friends.

© Eithne Cullen, 2018

Connect with Eithne on X: @eithne_cullen and Instagram: @eithnecullen57.

A copy of the novel can be purchased online here: amazon.co.uk/Never-Not-Thoughts-Eithne-Cullen/dp/1789552915.

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Issue 24, featuring John Marrs, will be out on 16 April. You will find it in libraries and other outlets. Alternatively, all current and previous editions can be found on our magazines page here.

You can hear great new ideas, creative work and writing tips on Write On! Audio. Find us on all major podcast platforms, including Apple and Google Podcasts and Spotify. Type Pen to Print into your browser and look for our logo, or find us on Podcasters.Spotify.com.

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