Jonny McCambridge: Making a difference and minding your bap

I am seldom less alert than during my morning commute to work. On one recent occasion I was so dozy that I drove onto the A1 rather than the M1 and was well on the way to Dublin before I realised the mistake.

But on this day I hear something which snaps me out of my dawn lethargy. Quite unexpectedly, my name is mentioned on the radio.

MLA Robbie Butler is on the Good Morning Ulster show where he has been asked to talk about a letter he has written to a younger version of himself. It is a letter of reassurance to a nervous child as he is about to open his eleven plus results. The letter, which has been widely shared on social media, is a positive message for young people that their futures and destinies are not defined by the outcome of one exam.

Host Noel Thompson asks what was the inspiration for the letter. Robbie refers to a guest who had appeared with him on a podcast. That guest is me.

As I drive my mind goes back to a day when I receive a message from a man that I do not yet know

This man says he likes my writing and asks if I would be interested in taking part in a podcast.

I send him a message asking for more information and he forwards me some links. I start to watch the first episode.

I see two men in a studio talking about mental health. It’s a little robotic. But it’s also funny, direct and incredibly well-intentioned.

I watch a few more episodes. I see the two men begin to relax, finding their comfort zone and their true voices. They tackle difficult subjects such as depression in an accessible and positive way.

The podcast is called Mind Your Bap. I send a message back to this man telling him that I’d be happy to participate.

A few days later I’m in a studio full of microphones.

There are four other people there. Robbie is a small bearded man and Marty is a large bearded man. I’m a medium bearded man so I feel immediately at home.

Sarah completes the Mind Your Bap team, doing all the camera and production work and holding the whole thing together. Michael runs the studio and quietly pleads with Marty not to break anything.

Michael asks Marty to tap the microphone to ensure it’s working. Then he has to show him which part of the microphone to tap.

Robbie and Marty are the unlikely duo who are the faces of Mind Your Bap. A local politician and a businessman who have come together to try and start a positive conversation about mental health.

They tell me they are Liverpool supporters. I think of great partnerships in history. Keegan and Toshack. Dalglish and Rush. Little and Large.

We take our seats. There are no real rehearsals or discussion about what we’ll talk about. Marty has scratched a few questions on a notebook which he shows to me. Robbie asks him if he can have a page from the book.

Then they practise the fist bump. The fist bump is a big thing on Mind Your Bap, the signature move which starts and ends every podcast. But Robbie is at the other side of the desk and we agree that Marty and I will do it. The fist bump is important. It’s their calling card. We start filming. We forget to do the fist bump.

The format is simple. The guys ask me to tell them about my experiences, about a life spent battling depression and anxiety. The point being that sharing my story might help another.

I nod my head. Then I begin to talk. As I said I’ve watched a few of their earlier blogs. They are often about 12 minutes long. Some of them are 20 minutes.

When I stop to take a breath Robbie tells me that we’ve been going for more than 40 minutes and I’ve still got loads more to say. The sharing has been easy, comfortable and natural. Robbie and Marty let the conversation assume its own dynamic.

We take a break and have coffee. Marty and Robbie film a shorter piece, a promo for upcoming episodes. Then I’m back behind the microphone to talk some more.

It feels like we could probably chat all day but Sarah is waving her arms frantically. We’ve gone on for so long that the batteries in the cameras are starting to fail. We have to wrap it now.

Robbie asks me to finish the podcast by reading one of my stories. I choose a letter I wrote to myself as a younger, less assured man. The personal and universal message is that however bleak the moment may seem, do not give up because there are always better days to come.

There’s no sound in the studio as I read other than my thick country bumpkin accent. My words are always intended to be read, I never expected to be saying them aloud. A few times I have to fight to hold my composure as the emotion causes me to falter.

Then I finish and the silence stretches on for just a couple of seconds. I think in that silence there is a shared recognition that we have achieved something together. Out of all of the messiness and the laughter we have created something bigger than its own parts. We finish with the fist bump.

I’m thinking about these moments in my car this morning as I listen to Robbie Butler on the radio, talking about how I inspired him to write his own letter.

I’m also thinking how politicians, just like journalists, are often viewed with cynicism by the public. There is a widespread scepticism of the potential for either trade to really make a positive difference.

But that does not mean that there are not those who act with noble intentions. Some small act, it might be a letter, a podcast or a column, may brighten someone’s day.

That’s enough reason to keep plugging along.

I pull my car into a parking space near the office. I decide that I should give Robbie a call soon. Perhaps we can do some more work together. I’m looking forward to the fist bump already.

* Follow the guys on Twitter at @mindyourbap