Madeleine Chapman reflects on the week that was.
Nearly every piece of advice or social trend can be boiled down to encouraging people to say “yes” more or “no” more. Dating advice has a foundation of saying yes, putting yourself out there, being open to new people and possibilities. The proliferation of “therapy speak” was essentially a granting of permission to say no. Don’t go to things that aren’t fulfilling, don’t feel pressured to respond to texts, don’t always put others first.
As societies and economies go through their ebbs and flows, so too does the country oscillate between yes and no. In a pandemic and while in nationwide lockdowns, everything was no. The world and all our lives were defined by what we weren’t allowed to do. At first there was a safety in it, then a suffocation. And now, as New Zealanders look desperately to the other side of a recession and cost of living crisis, the prime minister has declared that the era of no is over. It’s all about saying yes now. It’s about growth and potential and moving forward.
These are all exciting and positive words, unsurprising to hear from a prime minister searching for a bit of mojo. No is barrier. It’s stifling and static and the opposite of what people think they want. Only unambitious people say no.
But there is a power and positivity in being able to say no. In not doing things simply because you can, or because it’s easier than resisting. We need yes people in government – people with ambition and big picture ideas for our country. We also need leaders who can say no and know when to stop. Who can cut losses and aren’t afraid to be the downbuzz.
I grew up in a no household and subsequently became someone who found it very hard to say no to anyone else, even when they hadn’t asked for anything. Being a forever yes man means getting a lot done while growing a slow and steady sense of resentment towards those around you. Being unable to say no worked well for me in the sense that I did a lot of work in my 20s that progressed my career and burnt me out multiple times. But by far the hardest thing about becoming a manager was learning to say no. I had foolishly assumed that I would manage 15 versions of myself AKA everyone would take suggestions as commands and not ask for things unless it was the absolute last resort. Lol.
Three years of sporadically tidying up after shrugging yes to things I had a feeling we shouldn’t do has made me appreciate the positive force in a no. Luxon may be familiar with that feeling after it was revealed that the Treaty principles bill was not a bottom line for Act in the coalition agreement and he could have in fact said no right at the beginning and saved himself years of distraction (and having to constantly reiterate a belated no when questioned about it) while in government.
A no can be demoralising and disappointing, but they simply have to exist alongside the yeses. When I moved cities for university and had no one to tell me I couldn’t do something, I couldn’t wait for my life of luxury and fun to begin. Turns out my idea of fun was just watching lots of TV and not going to lectures. It took a semester and nearly losing my scholarship to realise that I’d have to learn to say no to myself as well. Turns out too much of anything will make you sick.
What have readers spent the most time reading this week?
Comments of the week
- On She knew before she could read’: The reality of raising a trans child“Thank you for sharing. My child is at the start of this journey transitioning to male (12YO) and only identified recently, so probably too late for blockers. We have had a period of several years of increased harm leading to suicidal ideation and we all hit the wall late last year when it peaked. They have now leaned into a new appearance, covered their walls in pride flags, started on anxiety meds and doing really well. We go back to school in a couple of weeks a different person (which I am nervous about) but couldn’t be prouder of them. Your story resonated with me and I thank you for sharing”
- On What happens to tramping poo“We built a sawdust toilet (bucket in wooden frame, toilet seat on top, bag of sawdust for sprinkling on leavings) and it was a huge upgrade on the plastic bag option of Day 1. Still had to dispose of the end result but it was compostable and nowhere near as gross or stinky. Fresh sawdust smells lovely”
Pick up where this leaves off
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