The co-operative difference

How easy do you find it to describe to someone who doesn’t understand what a co-op is? It’s not the simplest of tasks. Where do you start? You can either tangle yourself up in history and heritage - which is glorious but not everyone’s bag - or you can start from a point of values and principles - which is wonderful but to some (don’t shoot me) a little too ‘worthy’. Or…you can talk about the ownership model. Not that exciting to most of the world.

But if we take our geek goggles off for a second, for those people outside the movement, who actually cares about the governance and ownership model?

So how do we reach people who don’t know who we are? Or what we do? And actually convince them of the real, genuine truth that co-ops are really, genuinely f***ing cool?!

Co-ops are actually rock ’n roll. No question.

It’s just that’s not the perception of the man, woman or dog on the street. To them we’re just a shop. The one they go to when everyone else is closed.

I’m a total co-op geek. I love it! I’ve been a committed co-operator for over 20 years but some of my mates still roll their eyes when I start talking about the co-op. Some of them are big history buffs too so I expect them to lap up my tales of the Pioneers… No. Perhaps I’ve bored them over the years but it does give me food for thought.

Not good enough is it? What do we do? How do we not only crack and break but blow apart this mould?

The language that we use and the position that we take is absolutely the key. It’s time for a change.

To be moved from raucous laughter to tears - that in the end I didn’t even try to hide -is not something that you expect in the course of one presentation, and certainly not at a conference but that is exactly what happened when Lemn Sissay gave his keynote address on the second day of the Co-operative College’s Education and Research Conference. I think I wept three times during his speech but as I’ve reflected on it since, as I put myself into the shoes of that scared and confused little boy, I must also confess to tears pricking my eyes again and again.

Lemn shared his story with us. His own personal history, lived through his eyes. In his own inimitable style. It was warm, it was incredibly funny, it meandered through wonderful moments of his life in a magically chaotic, haphazard way interspersed with his lyrical poetry. And then it got very real. He told us his story. The story. His experience of going into ‘the system’ and living, or rather being processed through Care. Care. It’s an odd choice of word really but that’s what we call it. A convenient shorthand but not an accurate one.

The painful truth that we were forced to face… The Care system is failing young people. Our young people. Our next generation.

Our children.

34% percent of care leavers are not in education, employment or training at the age 19, compared with 13% of all young people The average age for suicide if you are a care-leaver is 27 Young people leaving care are probably going through major trauma, possibly even PTSD, while trying to cope with all the 'normal' stresses of training, finding work, living as young adults 40% of prisoners under 21 were in care as children (only 2% of the general population spend time in prison)

The Care system is failing our children. And failing them massively.

How well do we understand that? How often do we sit and think about it? How often do we talk about it? Or do we comfort ourselves that there is a system that looks after the children that have been failed, that gives them a bed, food, shelter and that’s a measure of our society doing right by them? These are difficult questions that I’ve potentially never asked myself. Not because I’m a careless or uncaring person, not because I’m politically or socially unaware but maybe because I see other issues more often, more urgent (?), more horrifying (?). Every day as I walk past shop doorway after shop doorway with a cold and hungry homeless person sleeping in it I weep and a voice in me screams that something must be done to solve this.

It’s not an excuse. Not a good one at least. But it’s potentially a reason.

But as I heard that story I got a wake up call, suddenly I could see more clearly. This is a disgrace and a national crisis.

“I needed a hug” said Lemn. Those four words chilled me to the bone. I now felt the abject horror I should have already known. It cut through me like a knife. Hot tears spilled down my face without me realising.

“I needed a hug.” Of course you bloody did!

The thought of a child growing up without a hug is devastating. Impossible to imagine. Wrong. So very wrong.

“The most emotional conversation I had throughout my childhood in care was with a care worker who said ‘I have to keep my emotions separate from the job’.” Of course they did. I can hear it. I can understand what they meant and why they said it. But I wanted to scream ‘No!!. You can’t do that, it’s not fair. He needs a hug!’. And then I reflect and I can hear myself saying it. I can understand that processes and transactions are put in place to support care workers, to keep the system moving, to create efficiency and reports and to get the right result. And amongst all that, all the horror, how can you deal with it and take it home and sleep at night? But where is the humanity? Where is the nurturing? Where is the space for children to be children? Our children.

There has been much discussion in recent times about how co-ops can get involved in social care. It’s a great idea. It’s perfect. It chimes with the values and principles of the movement. It’s a great fit with the motivation of the Rochdale Pioneers. Identifying a social need, seeing the gulf of inequality and responding to it. This is what co-ops are about. This is why they’re important. This is why the world needs them.

But when I’ve heard these conversations that I welcome so much, they tend to be about elderly care. Care homes. ‘End of life care’ as it is neatly packaged occasionally. Run in a uniquely co-operative way with the service users consulted and involved, at the heart of the decision making. It’s all good. I support it wholeheartedly. We’ve all heard horror stories about what has happened to vulnerable, elderly patients in homes and hospitals and rightly we’ve been shocked and felt that something must be done. There has to be a better way. And a co-operative way would definitely be a better way of that I’m certain.

Many of my friends don’t get co-ops. Frankly, they find the fact that I do odd. They find the fact that I love co-ops so much a bit weird and it’s sometimes a source of amusement. But they’re my friends so they show a genuine interest, they ask pertinent questions and occasionally they shake their heads at me, perplexed.

I tell them that co-ops are cool, radical, innovative and cutting edge. That they have the power to change the world. Appealing traits. Places that sound like my mates would want to do business with. But when they do any research, when they meet co-operators and ask questions, that’s not the experience they get.

They hear a foreign language. A technical jargon that has none of the passion or spirit that I’ve described to them. They don’t hear about social justice, the desire to make the world a better place.

No, they hear about ‘ownership models’, 'surplus’, read about 'our co-operative values and principles’ (but have two more links to click before they find out what they are), they’ve seen in the papers story after story about governance. We’re hardly welcoming people into 'the movement’ with open arms.

If you Google 'What is a co-op?’ the overwhelming search results throw up terms like 'legal entity’, 'autonomous association’ and even, according to business dictionary.com a 'Firm owned, controlled, and operated by a group of users for their own benefit’. It hardly fits with the glowing picture I paint to my mates. Is it any wonder that we sometimes struggle to broaden the reach, diversity and engagement of our members?

As co-operators we often talk about co-ops in hallowed terms, as if they are precious and delicate things. We discuss the pioneers in hushed voices. It’s not right. It can’t be. It doesn’t even feel respectful to me. These were men with radical ideas, they were rebels, who metaphorically stuck two fingers up at the establishment. They were tenacious and determined and they made the dreams they believed in bloody happen against all the odds!

They did change the world.

Over the last few weeks I’ve been thinking more and more about co-operative language. Communication is my business so that isn’t really surprising but two things have specifically thrown it into sharp relief for me.

Firstly, as I work with a number of co-ops it’s the way that they wrestle with how to articulate who they are and what they do. It’s much more comfortable to fall into the co-oppy jargon of values and principles, heritage, ownership and an adopted, slightly obtuse mission statement. It’s much more difficult to be clear, concise and be up front about the commercial proposition of the organisation - that wouldn’t quite be the done thing.

This approach is off putting and frankly can be downright intimidating to outsiders. So what happens? They vote with their feet. They become fans/supporters/members of someone else, a social enterprise, a community owned organisation, a charity that they can understand. That they can connect with.

And what does that mean? That the movement isn’t shifting. We’re all talking to the same circle of super-engaged co-operators each and every time. Basically, we’re talking to ourselves.

The second example is about someone who presented to a group of co-operators. It was a great presentation and then the session was opened up for questions. It’s never long in a room full of co-operators before the questions turn to detail. I listened to the question, I was interested to hear the answer. Our presenter sat in silence, only for a couple of heartbeats, and then said 'I’m sorry, I didn’t understand the question’. At that point I realised once again, we were talking in code.

Rather than be disappointed in, or criticise the speaker, I think the answer lies with us. Those of us within the movement, who class ourselves as co-operators and hold the key to the code. We need to find a way to open up. We need to be more inclusive, to welcome more people to join the 'movement’ and the debate without them having to feel part of a club and learn a new language. We have to take the initiative.

It’s great to see the increase in membership of co-ops in Co-operatives UK’s 'Co-operative Economy 2016’ report but imagine the potential if we can be more inclusive.