This might be the most positive story you will ever read about Cobridge in the mainstream media.
The census results, obscure though they might be (anomie? what's this, a referendum question?), pin down the reason that many of us find hard to articulate about why we love being in Stoke. We feel a sense of belonging to our community, or perhaps several different communities.
And what's so good about this is that it's so thoroughly modern. As I've tweeted in passing (hooray for this new thought trail), a morning in Burslem is not unlike one in Twitter. Conversations everywhere, news to catch up on, links to follow up. It's what makes people love Burslem and feel so sad when it is empty.
Just like the web, these communities run the risk of operating in silos (the current voguish word, I prefer to say trenches). They can chatter away and never cross paths. But that in itself is not the problem. The fact that these communities have had to compete in an ever-diminishing job market, with decreasing opportunities to mix and with limited educational opportunities, has caused divisions. As the Cobridge article shows, the community builders and connectors are plentiful in Stoke. The most invigorating meetings I go to are full of grassroots organisers, fighting their different corners and finding connections. These people have been ignored for decades, but maybe - in the new connected world where you don't have to go to London to get anything done - their time has now come. With the right support, we can become better at finding connections and building capacity without additional funding. With greater investment, we can develop enterprising communities in which everyone feels they have a part to play.
The interest shown by the government over the last few months in social enterprise has made me wonder whether they would consider putting as much investment into social enterprise centres and support as is planned for retail. I don't know whether it's too late to divert the £220 million pounds that are going to be spent clearing the Coachmakers and some piles of concrete to build yet another shopping centre, but it would be nice to think that more of our shops could be like this, instead of like this.
Does that show a lack of ambition? Maybe. But if we've already defeated "anomie", aren't simple opportunities to make a decent wage doing something we like all we need to aspire to?
Showing posts with label Stoke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stoke. Show all posts
Monday, December 01, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
October 23 2008: Plodding to the polls
The only feeling that I can take from today’s referendum process in Stoke is that nothing much has changed for our "damaged" system of governance.
The question resembles a camel with two legs: curious looking and, well, not very mobile. It has been put together by too many people with an eye on electoral law who forgot that democracy starts with clear language that actually makes sense. To be fair, of course, the council have already been through this process in two ways, getting two different answers.
So it has been left to the campaign groups - two different groups who chose the same name - and the local media to translate the question for the general public. Try as I might to feign an interest, my eyes went glassy the very second the No campaigners started talking of councillors trying to take away my right to choose who I wanted to lead the city.
Meanwhile, the Yes campaigners, apparently submitting to the commonly-held view that to interest people, you have to terrify them, have come up with a mock-up of The Sun showing the rioting and flames that would result should we keep our mayor. Their message is that the BNP are going to put up someone very charismatic and sexy to woo us all before May. Who this charmer is, is not clear, but if it seems a good enough reason to you to scrap the entire mayoral system, then be sure to vote Yes today.
What this has to do with unpicking the merits of governance systems before us is anyone’s guess, but the Sentinel have taken the same tack for a different result, with a confusing story based on an anonymous poll of councillors that informs us that if we vote Yes we will also get the BNP leading us next May. For BNP politicians and supporters, all that’s needed is to stay quiet and take the free publicity while all around them politicians sink under their own spin and squabbling.
The only thing that can give a convincing way forward is a large turnout today, and that's assuming we think everyone understands the question. My impression from conversations with those people who don’t take an active interest in city politics - the majority, and who can blame them - is that people neither understand nor care. People are widely referring to it as an election, meaning they will be confused when they find out they're not voting for people, but for a system. Translating the question outside the ballot box for people is fairly easy, but whether or not any of us will remember what the question means once we’re inside is unclear. You’re voting No if you want to have a mayor; Yes, if you want the councillors to choose a leader or you just want rid of the mayor. If you’re in the considerable camps of people who (a) think councillors should have more power or (b) would rather the councillors were all gone tomorrow, well then there are no options for you. I could go into the wider plans of the governance commission, which have been agreed but not acted upon by the council, but I suspect you lost interest a few lines ago.
The only reason to vote today is to contribute to the turnout, because we must use our votes when we get them. My own view hasn’t changed over the last six months: the system we have doesn’t particularly matter as long as we can have a city in which everybody can contribute and have their voices heard through different avenues of representation. In the last few weeks, far away from the political arena but sometimes involving the same people, I’ve seen some very encouraging signs that the grassroots organisations of Stoke could be enjoying something of a renaissance, inspired perhaps by the visit of Desmond Tutu back in July. Online, there are more Stoke people blogging than ever before – even if large swathes of our city are still without free internet access this is a sign that we could be entering a more healthy era of discussion and debate in which the people’s voices cannot be ignored. The day when even poor ignored Tunstall has a Facebook group dedicated to its charms is a good day for our city.
The campaigners for Trentham High School, who have been bravely standing up and dragging attention back to themselves even when all seemed lost, have in my view won the battle and should be given the prize they want. If walking to London to deliver a petition wasn’t convincing enough, the achievement of the students, teachers and parents in making their school the most improved in the city deserves our respect and more importantly that of the Building Schools for the Future architects. People are more important than buildings and our reliance on demolition and displacement needs to be put behind us. Our appearance on Question Time last week was a clear message to national government that the people of Stoke have, through bitter experience, learnt to articulate issues of deprivation, fear and unfairness as they affect our communities.
As Stoke-on-Trent creeps closer to its centenary year as a federated city of six proud towns, we could be about to enter very interesting times indeed.
The question resembles a camel with two legs: curious looking and, well, not very mobile. It has been put together by too many people with an eye on electoral law who forgot that democracy starts with clear language that actually makes sense. To be fair, of course, the council have already been through this process in two ways, getting two different answers.
So it has been left to the campaign groups - two different groups who chose the same name - and the local media to translate the question for the general public. Try as I might to feign an interest, my eyes went glassy the very second the No campaigners started talking of councillors trying to take away my right to choose who I wanted to lead the city.
Meanwhile, the Yes campaigners, apparently submitting to the commonly-held view that to interest people, you have to terrify them, have come up with a mock-up of The Sun showing the rioting and flames that would result should we keep our mayor. Their message is that the BNP are going to put up someone very charismatic and sexy to woo us all before May. Who this charmer is, is not clear, but if it seems a good enough reason to you to scrap the entire mayoral system, then be sure to vote Yes today.
What this has to do with unpicking the merits of governance systems before us is anyone’s guess, but the Sentinel have taken the same tack for a different result, with a confusing story based on an anonymous poll of councillors that informs us that if we vote Yes we will also get the BNP leading us next May. For BNP politicians and supporters, all that’s needed is to stay quiet and take the free publicity while all around them politicians sink under their own spin and squabbling.
The only thing that can give a convincing way forward is a large turnout today, and that's assuming we think everyone understands the question. My impression from conversations with those people who don’t take an active interest in city politics - the majority, and who can blame them - is that people neither understand nor care. People are widely referring to it as an election, meaning they will be confused when they find out they're not voting for people, but for a system. Translating the question outside the ballot box for people is fairly easy, but whether or not any of us will remember what the question means once we’re inside is unclear. You’re voting No if you want to have a mayor; Yes, if you want the councillors to choose a leader or you just want rid of the mayor. If you’re in the considerable camps of people who (a) think councillors should have more power or (b) would rather the councillors were all gone tomorrow, well then there are no options for you. I could go into the wider plans of the governance commission, which have been agreed but not acted upon by the council, but I suspect you lost interest a few lines ago.
The only reason to vote today is to contribute to the turnout, because we must use our votes when we get them. My own view hasn’t changed over the last six months: the system we have doesn’t particularly matter as long as we can have a city in which everybody can contribute and have their voices heard through different avenues of representation. In the last few weeks, far away from the political arena but sometimes involving the same people, I’ve seen some very encouraging signs that the grassroots organisations of Stoke could be enjoying something of a renaissance, inspired perhaps by the visit of Desmond Tutu back in July. Online, there are more Stoke people blogging than ever before – even if large swathes of our city are still without free internet access this is a sign that we could be entering a more healthy era of discussion and debate in which the people’s voices cannot be ignored. The day when even poor ignored Tunstall has a Facebook group dedicated to its charms is a good day for our city.
The campaigners for Trentham High School, who have been bravely standing up and dragging attention back to themselves even when all seemed lost, have in my view won the battle and should be given the prize they want. If walking to London to deliver a petition wasn’t convincing enough, the achievement of the students, teachers and parents in making their school the most improved in the city deserves our respect and more importantly that of the Building Schools for the Future architects. People are more important than buildings and our reliance on demolition and displacement needs to be put behind us. Our appearance on Question Time last week was a clear message to national government that the people of Stoke have, through bitter experience, learnt to articulate issues of deprivation, fear and unfairness as they affect our communities.
As Stoke-on-Trent creeps closer to its centenary year as a federated city of six proud towns, we could be about to enter very interesting times indeed.
Friday, January 19, 2007
There may be ice in Texas, but here we got hurricanes
(warning: this is long, and probably fairly dull)
Here's a few tips if you ever find yourself arriving at Euston for your regular train home, only to find all the lights off.
Don't take the first answer you hear. That person will tell you to go and find a hotel. Obviously, that's madness. How are you going to get a hotel with 1500 others banging at the door? Keep asking the people in the red coats and clipboards, persuing various route options with them on their computers if you must, until someone tells you something you want to hear. Hang around the people with the radios. Nothing, but nothing is traveling north of Wolverhampton, they will insist, clipboard in hand as, eventually, a tannoy sends you all off in a better direction. They will run some trains if they possibly can, you see, because the staff want to get home. So follow the staff. My train, the one that should have been inpossible, ended up going all the way to Manchester.
Once on board, wait a little while then go and investigate what treats are on board for you to have. If you're really lucky, there will be some free coffee on the go, but since the staff have been negotiating the Isle since dawn, they will more likely have abandoned the shop with a box of cakes, sandwiches and water bottles. If you're really lucky and go hunting early on, you might get juice. Go easy on the supplies though, you don't know how long you're all going to be stuck together and you don't want it turning into some savage zombie movie.
Mull over the CBB racism row for a while, giggling at the picture of Gordon Brown with the Indian finance minister. Poor sod.
Think on: If you're going to be racist to anyone, make sure it's the biggest star of the biggest film industry in the world. This was obviously the thought flitting around Jade's head as she embarked on a bullying campaign with fellow white contestants of Big Brother. It has given us the best headline in the Sun this year: 'halfwit Jade starts race war with India'.
If it's any comfort, passing Indians, nobody likes Jade or Danielle (?) much in Britain either. With any luck, their self-elavation to the status of biggest pariahs in the world will ensure they need to be kept in a cave for the rest of their lives. What is less comforting is the idea of two nuclear powers letting this escalate to the point when somebody, a fan of Shilpa or Jade perhaps, 'accidentally' hits the red button. After all, people on army bases monitoring the dusty old nuclear deterrents probably have a lot of time to watch telly. That, friends of the House, is why we'd be better off spending our money on polar bears than the Trident replacement. Listen to the Faslane 365 (419 arrested so far, *4* charged if I remember rightly – which I probably don’t)
Anyway, what people don't like to admit is that they * love * massive weather catastrophes in Britain. OK, you don't love them if your lorry is blown over or your roof is torn off et cetera et cetera, but on the whole there's nothing that brings the British (at least the travelling ones I brush shoulders with) more pleasure than getting on their phones and secretly outdoing the people near them about *how* late they're going to be and *how* bloody awful the information was. Most of all, it's a chance to show off your intercity knowledge as you vie over possibilities for interconnection, preferably to your bored child who you've put on standby on the home computer in order to find routes for you so you can then get your wife to pick you up from the nearest possible county and spare her the *hassle* of going 75 miles when, if you plan it right you can probably get 45 miles away from home and she can pick you up in central Birmingham. And won't she love that. Secretly, she's wishing you had stayed out for a quiet night with the secretary so she could just watch Emmerdale in peace.
Hail the bright lights of the Midlands spy-centres. Suppose they were built to brighten up Arnold Bennett's boring journey north, but probably a bit late.
Hope, somewhat, that it won't be like this next Thursday, when your author is due to be introducing several young Londoners to the delights of Burslem. Come to Stoke! Commute to London! But maybe not in January (wind), February (snow) or July (heat). Or October (birthday).
Get as far as Stafford, where hordes of stranded Virgin staff have converged to form a trainful of red uniforms wneding its way, slowly, to the North. Bargain with the coachdrivers outside until you have formed a gang wishing to go to Stoke and democracy wins out over the person who wants to get to Congleton. Joined by someone who will be taken to Liverpool and wonder at how optimistic they must have been feeling when they jumped on a train to Stafford in the hope they would find their way another 80 miles.
Home for ten, well into the 8th hour of commuting, feeling quite lucky. Decide to work from home tomorrow.
Here's a few tips if you ever find yourself arriving at Euston for your regular train home, only to find all the lights off.
Don't take the first answer you hear. That person will tell you to go and find a hotel. Obviously, that's madness. How are you going to get a hotel with 1500 others banging at the door? Keep asking the people in the red coats and clipboards, persuing various route options with them on their computers if you must, until someone tells you something you want to hear. Hang around the people with the radios. Nothing, but nothing is traveling north of Wolverhampton, they will insist, clipboard in hand as, eventually, a tannoy sends you all off in a better direction. They will run some trains if they possibly can, you see, because the staff want to get home. So follow the staff. My train, the one that should have been inpossible, ended up going all the way to Manchester.
Once on board, wait a little while then go and investigate what treats are on board for you to have. If you're really lucky, there will be some free coffee on the go, but since the staff have been negotiating the Isle since dawn, they will more likely have abandoned the shop with a box of cakes, sandwiches and water bottles. If you're really lucky and go hunting early on, you might get juice. Go easy on the supplies though, you don't know how long you're all going to be stuck together and you don't want it turning into some savage zombie movie.
Mull over the CBB racism row for a while, giggling at the picture of Gordon Brown with the Indian finance minister. Poor sod.
Think on: If you're going to be racist to anyone, make sure it's the biggest star of the biggest film industry in the world. This was obviously the thought flitting around Jade's head as she embarked on a bullying campaign with fellow white contestants of Big Brother. It has given us the best headline in the Sun this year: 'halfwit Jade starts race war with India'.
If it's any comfort, passing Indians, nobody likes Jade or Danielle (?) much in Britain either. With any luck, their self-elavation to the status of biggest pariahs in the world will ensure they need to be kept in a cave for the rest of their lives. What is less comforting is the idea of two nuclear powers letting this escalate to the point when somebody, a fan of Shilpa or Jade perhaps, 'accidentally' hits the red button. After all, people on army bases monitoring the dusty old nuclear deterrents probably have a lot of time to watch telly. That, friends of the House, is why we'd be better off spending our money on polar bears than the Trident replacement. Listen to the Faslane 365 (419 arrested so far, *4* charged if I remember rightly – which I probably don’t)
Anyway, what people don't like to admit is that they * love * massive weather catastrophes in Britain. OK, you don't love them if your lorry is blown over or your roof is torn off et cetera et cetera, but on the whole there's nothing that brings the British (at least the travelling ones I brush shoulders with) more pleasure than getting on their phones and secretly outdoing the people near them about *how* late they're going to be and *how* bloody awful the information was. Most of all, it's a chance to show off your intercity knowledge as you vie over possibilities for interconnection, preferably to your bored child who you've put on standby on the home computer in order to find routes for you so you can then get your wife to pick you up from the nearest possible county and spare her the *hassle* of going 75 miles when, if you plan it right you can probably get 45 miles away from home and she can pick you up in central Birmingham. And won't she love that. Secretly, she's wishing you had stayed out for a quiet night with the secretary so she could just watch Emmerdale in peace.
Hail the bright lights of the Midlands spy-centres. Suppose they were built to brighten up Arnold Bennett's boring journey north, but probably a bit late.
Hope, somewhat, that it won't be like this next Thursday, when your author is due to be introducing several young Londoners to the delights of Burslem. Come to Stoke! Commute to London! But maybe not in January (wind), February (snow) or July (heat). Or October (birthday).
Get as far as Stafford, where hordes of stranded Virgin staff have converged to form a trainful of red uniforms wneding its way, slowly, to the North. Bargain with the coachdrivers outside until you have formed a gang wishing to go to Stoke and democracy wins out over the person who wants to get to Congleton. Joined by someone who will be taken to Liverpool and wonder at how optimistic they must have been feeling when they jumped on a train to Stafford in the hope they would find their way another 80 miles.
Home for ten, well into the 8th hour of commuting, feeling quite lucky. Decide to work from home tomorrow.
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