My work has had an impact in spite of the state, not because of it – and it’s certainly had nothing to do with the British empire
The day I found out I was to be awarded an MBE started like most other Mondays. I began work at 7.30am, facing an inbox with 48 new emails in it. These included everything from the bureaucratic – a funding application– to the worrying, several about a young man sleeping rough in a local park, for whom all attempts to offer support have thus far failed. Among them was an email from the Cabinet Office, requesting my acceptance or rejection of an MBE. I laughed at first. “It must be a hoax”, I thought. But when I read it again, I realised it was too official for that.
I forgot about the email for a while. The young man my colleagues were worried about and the funding application took precedence; and, as happens most days, it was 5pm before I looked up from my laptop. When I finally reread it, I felt a surge of embarrassment at first that quickly turned to frustration and finally settled into an all-too-familiar sadness. Yet again, the powers-that-be had missed the point.
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