Reflections on a Revolution

I feel a deep pain, one I haven’t felt as acutely as the day we woke up to war in Ukraine. All the past weeks have been building up to it, not because I had advance knowledge that Putin’s Russia will commit more politically motivated murder, but because I had just finished reading Mikhail Zygar’s The Empire Must Fall and was struck by the heart wrenching epilogue, in which he reminds readers that nothing is written and that we, the Russian (or should I say Slavic) people, are victims of our own history.

I know this to be true with every fibre of my being. We can still change everything. We just need to fight for what we believe in. As Alexei Navalny himself said, “if they kill me, it means we are strong”. It’s time to use turn our weaknesses into strengths. If we feel strongly, we must stand up for what we believe in — instead of suffering in silence, we need to make ourselves heard.

And that goes for everyone, not just Russians. Of course it feels more personal to a Russian speaker, but we’re not alone in this. So many other nationalities have endured and continue to endure similar regimes. And we have so many allies.

After finishing the book, I realised the former head of the Provisional Government, Alexander Kerensky, is buried in London. Out of curiosity, as well as a sense of respect, I decided to pay him a visit. It was particularly poignant due to the timing, but also because I combined the visit with the chance to catch up with a childhood friend — an ethnic Latvian, who didn’t particularly know or care who it was we were going to see.

But as we dove into discussions around history, around ethnicity, nationality, language, and culture, it’s clear that we have a lot more in common than we differ. And that gives me hope, as does the hundreds if not thousands of people who are mobilised by this weekend’s events. Zygar’s book draws a surprising amount of comparisons between tsarist Russia and the current regime, in everything from the way propaganda is handled to political decision-making.

One thing is clear. The empire must fall.

Review: Adult Skating Classes at Queens Ice & Bowl

When you’re a child, the world is full of possibilities. You’re encouraged to try a little bit of everything. I was a figure skater, but I also did gymnastics, ballet, diving, basketball, football, debating, singing, playing piano — and probably loads more I’m forgetting. The point is, I had time, I had energy, and I was supported in the pursuit of exploration. As a thirty-something with a full-time job, however, having hobbies is hard.

Even if you muster the energy, it’s harder to coordinate. I’m lucky to live in London — there’s meetups on every corner for every possible sort of activity. But London is also big, meaning travelling to try out all these activities takes up a lot of time, effort, and money. So while I’d love to do everything, I have to limit myself to hobbies that make logistical sense.

I first heard about the adult skating lessons at Queens Ice & Bowl from a friend just before the pandemic. We started going every week, but by the time I got my own skates over to the UK, lockdown had begun. Last autumn, I was back in the office three times a week and suddenly, a Wednesday evening skating class made logistical sense again. I went until Christmas, took a short break, and now I’m back at it.

Since I don’t have any photos of Queens Ice & Bowl, here’s me at Natural History Museum a few years ago.

The groups accommodate learners up to an intermediate level. In other words, don’t expect to be jumping axels anytime soon, but all other single jumps and basic spins are on the table. Beginners take the ice at 7, more advanced skaters go on at 7:30, and then there’s a public session starting at 8. My group, the most advanced, is mostly comprised of former skaters — and you tend to see the same people every week. What’s interesting, and surprising, is that it’s always packed. The lessons aren’t exactly cheap, but every week, without fail, there’s at least 50 skaters on the ice.

I can’t say the lessons are amazing, but there’s definitely a benefit — I wouldn’t be coming back week after week otherwise. Yesterday, our group had two coaches for unknown reasons, and they seemingly hadn’t aligned on a lesson plan beforehand, so one was describing a lutz and the other showing how to do a loop jump. It was pretty bizarre to watch, yet somehow entertaining. The nice thing is having some free ice to try out a few jumps and spins before the public session crowds up the rink. I’ve set myself the aspirational goal of landing an axel this year, and if yesterday is anything to go by, there’s hope. I’ll just need new blades. And a less crowded rink. A girl can dream.

The main takeaway for anyone looking for adult skating classes is that Queens Ice & Bowl has you covered on Mondays and Wednesdays starting from 7pm. It’s a bit chaotic, but still good fun. Come along!