Archive
Author: Alasdair Renwick-Hale
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Singing Together Does Something Singing Alone Does Not
I remember sitting in a small, drafty chapel during my third year as a chaplain, watching a professional choir attempt to carry a service…
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Protecting the Vulnerable Comes Before Protecting the Reputation
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital corridor at three in the morning, the smell of antiseptic heavy in the air, listening to…
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Confidentiality Has Limits and They Should Be Stated
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospice room in the late nineties, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and wilting lilies,…
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Repeated Words Carry You When Your Own Fail
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospice room during a particularly brutal winter, watching a man struggle to find breath between the heavy,…
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Each Century Thought the Last One Sang Better
I remember sitting in a cramped hospital corridor during a late shift, the hum of the machines providing a sterile, rhythmic backdrop to a…
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Copying by Hand Leaves Traces
I remember sitting in a dim corner of a university library years ago, watching a young scholar insist with absolute, terrifying certainty that he…
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Clear Boundaries Protect Everyone Including the Leader
I remember sitting in a dim hospital corridor at three in the morning, the smell of floor wax and stale coffee hanging heavy in…
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Policies Exist Because Good Intentions Are Not Enough
I remember sitting in a cramped, fluorescent-lit hospital corridor at three in the morning, listening to a young mother try to explain a breach…
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Most Great Art Was Commissioned Work
I remember sitting in a drafty stone chapel in the late eighties, watching a young conservator painstakingly clean a sixteenth-century altarpiece. He spoke of…
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The Timeline Is Reconstructed, Not Recorded
I remember sitting in a dim hospital corridor years ago, a grieving man asking me when exactly the light would return, and I realized…