On Saturday, May 17th, I embarked on my very first non-political interview in a decade. After the conversation with the inimitable Paul Rutterford on Academy FM, I posted on Facebook that it had “been a pleasure.” In hindsight, I undersold that sentiment; it was an absolute delight and a revelation.
Paul posed a plethora of questions, ranging from my insights on my book Taken: Experiences of Forced Adoption, to my forthcoming novel, When Dogs Barked at Cars, and we even touched on my political journey, including leading the only UK delegation to gain access to Syria post-Assad. It felt liberating to speak freely, almost intoxicating, without the pressure of getting my answers ‘right’ — a stark contrast to the hundreds of political interviews I’ve navigated over the past ten years.
Reflecting on that decade, I recall the immense pressure political interviews can generate. When I first stepped into the political arena in 2015, doing interviews across Thanet, Kent, and the South East, the weight felt overwhelming—much of it self-imposed. Who wants to appear on radio or TV fumbling through questions or, worse, lacking engagement? As a woman—particularly one who is mature, visibly aging, and not exactly svelte—I often felt an extra layer of scrutiny. It’s no wonder I favored radio interviews!
Many people don’t grasp that a political interview is not just about answering questions; it’s also an opportunity to convey your party’s position. There’s a misconception that local politicians possess insider knowledge. While MPs and PPCs (prospective parliamentary candidates) receive daily briefings, councillors like I was do not. As a result, we often field questions on the fly. Thankfully, many politicians breathe, eat, sleep, and dream politics—my family can attest to that! This continuous layering of knowledge is in fact invaluable.
Frequently, I would receive last-minute calls around 8 or 9 PM for an early morning interview the next day. ‘Can we come to you for the 7 o’clock news?’ they’d ask. ‘Yes, of course!’I’d eagerly reply, only to follow up with, ‘What’s in the package?’ It was then that I’d discover the news item. After a few of these experiences, I also learned to ask who else would be interviewed—often, it was one of the two local Conservative MPs, both of whom had greater electoral pull and were well-supported by their party. Nevertheless, I held my own and grew increasingly formidable as my confidence and competence blossomed.
However, my heart raced with the fear of stumbling, mispronouncing a word, or failing to provide the BBC with a memorable sound bite. I pushed myself to excel, driven in part by my ambition to become South Thanet’s MP. I understood that politics, especially anything undertaken in the public eye, is unforgiving; one mistake could define you. Never has the adage ‘failing to prepare is preparing to fail’ resonated more. I spent countless hours researching, fact-checking, and crafting potential lines to use. I favored a message grid approach, knowing what I wanted to convey and finding the best way to express it.
TV interviews introduced their own hurdles. I thoroughly enjoyed my appearances on the Sunday Politics for BBC South East, and am grateful to the editors and lead interviewers for allowing me to learn and refine this new skill. I owe them a debt of gratitude, especially for helping to bring attention to the need for an adoption apology. That was, in fact, my last interview—speaking on behalf of the countless women who experienced forced adoption and had their babies taken from them. That was the most significant pressure I ever faced, and upon reflection, I believe I handled it well.
Logistically, getting from Ramsgate to Tunbridge Wells for interviews was often a challenge. I noticed that some Conservative party members could be particularly friendly whilst we waited drinking coffee together to enter the studio. Yet once inside, it was as if a switch flipped; the venom and attack almost caught me off guard. I soon realised this was a deliberate tactic.
Some of my most memorable interviews occurred while traveling or on holiday. I vividly remember attempting to conduct a serious BBC TV interview from the Royal Gardens of Alcázar in Seville. Finding a plain backdrop without strutting peacocks or ornate Moorish fountains was almost impossible; I ended up squatting in a most undignified position against a plain concrete panel to get the shot!
For several years, it seemed that every important date in my life attracted interview requests—my birthday, wedding anniversary, visits to my children, graduation days—you name it, I got a media call. I never turned a single one down.
I’ve always felt it was a tremendous privilege to represent the Labour Party (of which I was a member until recently) and an even greater honor to connect with so many people through radio and TV. I never took this responsibility lightly, always giving it my utmost attention. Thank you to anyone who ever listen to me.
As I concentrate on my writing, the subject matter will often trigger my campaigning nature. Right now, that’s advocating an adoption apology, but I’m also keen to help others by sharing my experience. Looking ahead, I believe I’ve developed a set of skills that I can leverage, and so I may pop up on your screen again advocating change or championing a cause, particularly if it’s linked to my socialist roots or feminist values.
