#14 Curiosity, and my first steps into stewarding

Sometime last month I spent the weekend being trained to be a steward at the Principality Stadium in Cardiff. I enjoy watching the odd game of rugby, and definitely enjoy live music. This seemed like a pleasant way to experience both in a different way, and sounded like an interesting thing to fit around work and other stuff.

The first morning was power point followed by power point. All delivered by various white males over the age of 50.  I didn’t need my background in teaching to know that they hadn’t been trained in pedagogy.  The afternoon perked up with a couple (of women) from St John’s Ambulance demonstrating resuscitation technique.

The second day improved a little on the first, with more variety within the (white male) speakers, and a few inter-active sessions including team building.  At one point we were asked what motivated us to steward.  Various answers, including getting paid, watching rugby and keeping active.  My answer was “curiosity”.

The content of the two days ranged from hard-hitting reminders of the importance of the role, especially with fire situations and also terrorism (Martyn’s law), to some awareness training on diversity and equality.

Some of this I found informative, some went over previous training (in education and engineering), some was undermined by the delivery, or by anther speaker.  I was annoyed with one man repeating “if a steward is in this situation he should..”. When one slide used the term “Aspergers” I spoke up to correct it, and the speaker asked me what he should use instead (ASD). The same speaker referred to “the disabled”.

We were told about the “family culture” within the stewarding teams.  This is literal – the way stewarding jobs are advertised for a short period means that many people are there because someone in their family suggested it at the right time.  (My sister told me.) There are teams where two generations work side by side.

During the tour of the stadium I was annoyed, shocked and amused in turn;

Annoyed when we had pointed out “the wooden boards with gold writing that have the names of all the Welsh rugby international players”.  I couldn’t help myself piping up “you mean the male players”. 

Shocked by the disparity between the home and away changing rooms.  I’d naively believed in the “good sportsmanship” ethos I’d been told about.

Amused by the account of when the England rugby team had refused to go onto the pitch first (2015). “Great television” and “drama” describing the scheme my comment My comment “Men are such emotional beings” had a variety of responses. I suspect the situation would have been reported differently if it hadn’t been the men’s teams.

As part of the training we were told about the importance of smart uniform (PPE), both to be easily recognisable, and to hold authority. At the end of the training we filled in various forms, including size of jacket.  Being quite petite and having worked in construction I knew this could be a problem, but with a thousand stewards needed on match days, and many more employed I looked forward to actually getting an XS without needing to order my own. (Can you hear the laughter?!)