I find the whole credit crunch crisis a bit of a fiasco. The banks who lent money to people they knew couldn't pay it back if there was a downturn in the economy are now standing waving their hands in the air and with a look of suprise on their faces. Lets get this straight, there was a problem in the American mortgage market, that our banks invested in, so now the British taxpayer has to fork out money so that the banks can get their house in order and not go under. The poor low income workers who have had their tax doubled from 10 to 20 pence are subsidising the six figure salaried bankers whose fault it was in the first place, not because of them making an error of judgement but because of their greed. I see there are quite a few people in Wall Street who have lost their jobs over this but I bet none of them are the top MD's or CEO's. But of course if they leave having thrust the western world into financial chaos they will get a pay off that will be more than most of us earn in a lifetime.
We are constantly being told that we now have to be competetative on the world markets, though of course that doesn't include the railways which are still being subsidised by the taxpayer, or the building of nuclear power plants paid for by the tax payer, or the arms industry; so when the bank says sorry but your small shop has to go under because you can't meet your repayments, or your business is going under because of the interest rate rises we can expect a handout from the government can we? Don't forget that a couple of years ago some of the banks were making a $1billion profit. Where's that gone and why did they want so much more they were risking the whole of the western banking system to get it. They keep saying that tnhey didn't know that it would happen this way. Really that's what they are paid to do, as well as the governments experts.
Its about time that governments stopped looking at encouraging all these millionaires from Eastern Europe to settle here, or American billionaires to buy up football teams, as those kind of people will go where the best deals are anyway, but to start looking at us, the native population. I am tired of being told that I need to pull in my belt again and again, because of the economy, I don't see Manchester United or Chelsea having a wage cut for their players, I don't see the CEO's of the power companies having their wages cut. I know that Gordon Brown said that the MP's had to have a wage rise lower than inflation, but then I wish someone would give me £10,000 for a new kitchen, £6,000 for a new bathroom, plus expenses so I can employ my family to do my office work. What I do see are rising fuel costs both domestic and travel, rising food costs, I see a rise in the cost of actually getting to work by bus, train or car. I also see the government doing nothing about it except by hitting the ordinary man in the street.
Its not just economics its everything. Education may have two ministers but they still can't get enough common sense together to see that it makes more sense to get 10 teachers for the cost of a new superheadmaster, ( oh by the way when the idea was muted the salary was going to be £100,000 now its £200,000, Hows that for inflation?)
How about making the streets safe, by employing more policemen on the beat and paying them a decent wage (If MI5 can double its staff because of the terrorist threat then I think a local police station could get a few more coppers to combat the terrorism that goes on outside my house)
Stop spending money on Trident, (Does it work? Tell me when are you going to find out? And what will happen to the old missiles that are being replaced hardly green is it?) and start spending money on the NHS.
When I was a kid I really was proud of my country being first, the first to discover so many wonderful life changing inventions, things that helped us win the war like radar, micro surgery, Concorde. Now we are first in that we work the longest hours pay the highest for petrol, pay the most for food, prison population, alcoholic abuse; so many things that we are first at, that make me unhappy, though of course there is one thing that we are not first at, literacy, we come second to bottom on that after the USA. The country that got us into the economic mess we are in now. Dont tell me this is good for me, because I remember every prime minister telling me that we are in a strong position but we need to make cuts and pull in our belts for the future. Well the future is now, so don't piss down my back and tell me its raining anymore. Get your act together because what are you going to do when China's economy starts running out of steam and their is a civil war or a revolution. Its history repeating itself, look at France, at Russia, even to the revolution in Germany in the 20's which lead to the rise of the Nazi's. No good asking for a hand out then because you invested in China, because it will be all of us sinking.
Just one thing more, the colleges and universities will be able to charge what they want, some want to charge £7000 a year. Now if the government wants toget 50% of the population in higher education each paying £7000 per year then after three years with fees and living costs they will owe about £35000 or perhaps even more which they will have to pay back,on credit, which some wont be able to do so causing a shortfall in the credit supply causing another credit crisis. Now tell me how are these students who have to pay back these loans going to find the money for a deposit on a house,save for their pension,get their children through school and actually find enough money over for food? Of course they will get jobs because they will be a graduate. So will 50% of the population so the extra money a graduate should get by the mere fact they will have a degree will be devalued in a supply and demand market. Does nobody in the government read history. I realise that it's a diary of other peoples mistakes but look at the wall street crash, where the investors were out stripping the supply. If that happens then we will have meltdown within the education system like the banking system now.
To have the opportunity for education is a good thing, but some people don't want it and those that can't get it are going to be even more alienated than they already are. For some kids an ASBO will be their only qualification. Stop charging for education and putting ridiculous restrictions on funding, the RAE policy gives plenty of researchers lots of money but they can't teach and if anybody has read the most recent figures will know that law suits against colleges and Universities has rocketed over the past year, mainly due to the lack of teaching.
The army discovered that when it stopped having conscription they started to develop a better, more aware and smarter army, actually I am proud to say the best in the world, shame about the equipment, but thats another blog. Education should be the same. Its not about numbers its about quality. Its about investing in the future and lets not treat education like the mortgage market becuase if it goes bust there won't be anybody clever enough to bail us out.
Monday, 21 April 2008
Monday, 17 March 2008
Taking responsibilty
one of the problems that we have in this country is that people do not take resposibilty for their actions. The young have not been taught how to. Since we have given way to the idea that school children aren't being told when they fail, they have no idea when something is wrong. Everything is a level of being correct. Consequently they do not realise how to fail, and take the responsibilty for failing and violence is a failure.
An act of violence regardless of its cause in the 21st Century is wrong, but it seems to be growing. Acts of thoughtless violence through drink, drugs or even the pressure of life is often given as a reason. It's not, its an excuse. When I was young and I drank to excess, or even when I had one of the most stressful jobs going in publishing I didn't go out and hit someone, try to kill them, cut them up in my car or celebrated my obnoxiousness. I coped with it.
When I hear that some kids get into trouble because there is nothing to do, I just can't accept it. There is more for kids to do now than ever. When I was a kid, on Sunday's everything was closed, at some points during the day even the TV closed down. I didn't go out and cause trouble or vandalise anything.
When I see the kids who get into trouble at the age of 14, I think that my parents were both out working at that age. Both were learning their trade because it was impossible to keep them on at school because of the lack of money. They had to be responsible, to keep the job, to turn up on time to do a good and sometimes long days work.
I saw a programme about a woman who wanted to get everyone to stop using their cars for just one day. The answer from some of the parents was that they couldn't give up their cars in case it rained. I walked to school in the rain, the snow, the fog and believe it or not I didn't get a bad cold or seriously ill, I actually got used to bad weather, dressed accordingly and also got fit. These are the same parents who wont let their kids in a few years take responsibility. They will be the same parents who actually lie to their kids about their talents and then let them suffer a huge fall on talent shows. I actually like Simon Cowell and I would like to see more teachers take a page out of his book and be honest with the kids.
When I did teacher training I gave a boy a detention slip which had to be taken home to his parents for them to give permission for him to have detention. How ridiculous that was. When I was at school we had a detention that night straight after school. It was a punishment, instant and effective. The teachers took the responsibility for the punishment, not the parents and the kid took the responsibility for the crime.
We have become so intwined with political correctness that we now cant see the problems through the phrasiology. The idea that you can't mark a pice of work for a child in red in case it upsets them. Or as I heard recently you can't even mark the actual piece of work itself but supply a seperate piece of paper with the comments on, because otherwise it would be disrespectful to the student. Crap. It means they know its wrong and need to get it right next time. Learning to fail, which is something we all do, is a valuable lesson.
On that note I don't completely blame the kids, but I do blame the parents and actually I blame the governments as well. They lie, manipulate the statistics,give reasions that are only half truths and the deny they have done it, so where is the hope for the young when the people running the country can't take responsibility for their actions.
We live in a world where violence is celebrated, through films, sport, television especially reality tv and on the football pitch particularly, and then we say to the kids that violence is wrong. For some of the kids who see and take this kind of culture in, it is their only way of getting what they think is respect but is in fact derision. These are the future unless something is done. The idea that teachers and parents should be afraid of physical attacks from children is appalling. The parents should take responsibility for their children and the local councils should have to take control of those parents who think that its always up to someone else. Those kids that are sent to jail should meet the victims families and explain why they did it. Their parents should have to attend parenting classes to try an understand where they went wrong. Those that don't attend get arrested and are made to do community work. Not helping in a shop but maybe driving around a victim of violence for a week, getting their shopping, cleaning their house, or maybe being a bodyguard to some elderly resident who is afraid of being attacked. They created the problem now they must start cleaning it up.
An act of violence regardless of its cause in the 21st Century is wrong, but it seems to be growing. Acts of thoughtless violence through drink, drugs or even the pressure of life is often given as a reason. It's not, its an excuse. When I was young and I drank to excess, or even when I had one of the most stressful jobs going in publishing I didn't go out and hit someone, try to kill them, cut them up in my car or celebrated my obnoxiousness. I coped with it.
When I hear that some kids get into trouble because there is nothing to do, I just can't accept it. There is more for kids to do now than ever. When I was a kid, on Sunday's everything was closed, at some points during the day even the TV closed down. I didn't go out and cause trouble or vandalise anything.
When I see the kids who get into trouble at the age of 14, I think that my parents were both out working at that age. Both were learning their trade because it was impossible to keep them on at school because of the lack of money. They had to be responsible, to keep the job, to turn up on time to do a good and sometimes long days work.
I saw a programme about a woman who wanted to get everyone to stop using their cars for just one day. The answer from some of the parents was that they couldn't give up their cars in case it rained. I walked to school in the rain, the snow, the fog and believe it or not I didn't get a bad cold or seriously ill, I actually got used to bad weather, dressed accordingly and also got fit. These are the same parents who wont let their kids in a few years take responsibility. They will be the same parents who actually lie to their kids about their talents and then let them suffer a huge fall on talent shows. I actually like Simon Cowell and I would like to see more teachers take a page out of his book and be honest with the kids.
When I did teacher training I gave a boy a detention slip which had to be taken home to his parents for them to give permission for him to have detention. How ridiculous that was. When I was at school we had a detention that night straight after school. It was a punishment, instant and effective. The teachers took the responsibility for the punishment, not the parents and the kid took the responsibility for the crime.
We have become so intwined with political correctness that we now cant see the problems through the phrasiology. The idea that you can't mark a pice of work for a child in red in case it upsets them. Or as I heard recently you can't even mark the actual piece of work itself but supply a seperate piece of paper with the comments on, because otherwise it would be disrespectful to the student. Crap. It means they know its wrong and need to get it right next time. Learning to fail, which is something we all do, is a valuable lesson.
On that note I don't completely blame the kids, but I do blame the parents and actually I blame the governments as well. They lie, manipulate the statistics,give reasions that are only half truths and the deny they have done it, so where is the hope for the young when the people running the country can't take responsibility for their actions.
We live in a world where violence is celebrated, through films, sport, television especially reality tv and on the football pitch particularly, and then we say to the kids that violence is wrong. For some of the kids who see and take this kind of culture in, it is their only way of getting what they think is respect but is in fact derision. These are the future unless something is done. The idea that teachers and parents should be afraid of physical attacks from children is appalling. The parents should take responsibility for their children and the local councils should have to take control of those parents who think that its always up to someone else. Those kids that are sent to jail should meet the victims families and explain why they did it. Their parents should have to attend parenting classes to try an understand where they went wrong. Those that don't attend get arrested and are made to do community work. Not helping in a shop but maybe driving around a victim of violence for a week, getting their shopping, cleaning their house, or maybe being a bodyguard to some elderly resident who is afraid of being attacked. They created the problem now they must start cleaning it up.
Thursday, 13 March 2008
The trial of those charged with the murder of Sophie Lanacaster has begun. For anyone who doesn't know Sophie was kicked to death in August last year by a group who had already kicked her boyfriend to the point of coma. The reason for this viscious and sustained attack was apprently because Sophie and her boyfriend were 'goths'. The defendants are all teeenagers bewteen 14 and 17.
One defendent has admitted murder and several GBH, but one is denying murder, hence the trial.
I am sad for Sophie's family; that any parent should lose a child is heartbreaking, but the circumstances are tragic.
I am incredulous; that any group of people could carry out such a cowardly and pointless attack.
I am angry; that there has not been a national public outcry.
It is time to take action. We cannot allow this kind of violence to continue. We seem to be breeding a generation that includes a class of individual whose only purpose is to inflict pain and suffering on others. Clearly they are being failed by their parents who must take responsibility for the moral welfare and consequently values expressed by these young people. It is time to either force this responsibility onto parents or remove their children from what is effectively an abusive environment. All agencies, school, Government, parents, voluntary groups must blanket children from an early age with the continuous message that violence is wrong. No ifs, buts or maybes; just wrong. The punishment for violence must be remedial and if the individual is unable to reform then the ultimate sanction must be removal from society.
If we cannot see the need to address both cause and outcome then we are inviting the onset of chaos; a society where violence rules and the brutal make life for everbody else miserable.
Action needs to be taken now. If you agree then write to your MP, or your local newspaper. Demand that those with the power raise this issue as a priority and involve all agencies in devising a planned approach to eliminate this problem.
One defendent has admitted murder and several GBH, but one is denying murder, hence the trial.
I am sad for Sophie's family; that any parent should lose a child is heartbreaking, but the circumstances are tragic.
I am incredulous; that any group of people could carry out such a cowardly and pointless attack.
I am angry; that there has not been a national public outcry.
It is time to take action. We cannot allow this kind of violence to continue. We seem to be breeding a generation that includes a class of individual whose only purpose is to inflict pain and suffering on others. Clearly they are being failed by their parents who must take responsibility for the moral welfare and consequently values expressed by these young people. It is time to either force this responsibility onto parents or remove their children from what is effectively an abusive environment. All agencies, school, Government, parents, voluntary groups must blanket children from an early age with the continuous message that violence is wrong. No ifs, buts or maybes; just wrong. The punishment for violence must be remedial and if the individual is unable to reform then the ultimate sanction must be removal from society.
If we cannot see the need to address both cause and outcome then we are inviting the onset of chaos; a society where violence rules and the brutal make life for everbody else miserable.
Action needs to be taken now. If you agree then write to your MP, or your local newspaper. Demand that those with the power raise this issue as a priority and involve all agencies in devising a planned approach to eliminate this problem.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
My colleague is correct in that anti-social behaviour should go punished. Don't forget that if they are not shown the errors of their ways then they will be anti-social parents of anti-social children. The idea that the police cannot do anything is prepostorous. With that amount of vandalism and anti-social behaviour going on then why not a task force to lay in wait and grab them in the act. If you show that any crime will not be tolerated then the community will follow. The idea that a thug can use violence to promote a level of fear for racist ends and yet the police take no action, is horrendous. Not got the resources then get them. They can keep soldiers in war zones thousends of miles away why can't they get the same resources to solve the problems in war zones here.
The new law about prostitution is obtuse. Lets make a disadvataged group even more scared of the police. I would love to know what the actual definition of prostituion is? Is it money or could it be in kind? If so then half of the women in the celebrity pages, ( yes we really have a lot in common even though I'm in my 20's and he is in his 80's, but just happens to be a billionaire), but joking aside, the problem, if there is one,of prostitution is that it is never going to go away. It needs to be properly looked at so that prostiutes can feel safe, from their clients, from pimps, organised crime and infection.
By fining the prostitute and the man never solves the problem. They should be given counselling and the opportunity to find alternative employment. Fining someone who has a drug habit doesn't make them give up they just need to work that much harder to get the money.
Its similar to the problem above, it needs a thoughtful approach to the problem. There should not be a no go area for anyone and the victims, in this case householders and prostitutes alike should be given protection and support.
I heard today that Gordon Brown is having a serious re-think about the super casinos in Manchester. Hooray. We live in a world where people are in serious debt and what do we want to do, give them an even easier way of getting into further debt?
I am unsure about the idea of the Mac A level, partly because it legitimises the idea of private education which is wrong, but it does allow for the whole aspect of the paperwork and qualifications that go with teaching to be brought into focus. I cannot wait until Offsted go to Mac College and ask to see lesson plans, programme reviews, marks and procedures let alone the documentation for the pastoral care. Like the police, education has become a self feeding buracracy. In the golden age of british education, the majority throughout the whole system from the infant to the graduate was free, the teachers most of which weren't qualified didn't take any lip, punishment was instant and without parents consent but had a discipline that enabled them to teach and more important for the children to learn. Now you have to pass qualifications that say you are a teacher, though it seems that most of these have very little to do with teaching but a lot about paperwork.
By the way, for those government ministers who think that health care should be going towards the American system, think of this, In this country we have to pay alot to keep our pets well. When my cat died it had cost me a small fortune in medication to keep him alive, until it was kinder to have him put down. That cost me £80. When grandad gets really ill and you can't afford the medication what are you going to do then, its not like a cat is it? I bet visits to Austria and Switzerland go up with a lot of old people going out but not coming back. Get my drift. I know the governement would say that wouldn't happen, but remember purchase tax that became VAT, that was only in place to pay for a war that eneded 60 years ago. Think on.
The new law about prostitution is obtuse. Lets make a disadvataged group even more scared of the police. I would love to know what the actual definition of prostituion is? Is it money or could it be in kind? If so then half of the women in the celebrity pages, ( yes we really have a lot in common even though I'm in my 20's and he is in his 80's, but just happens to be a billionaire), but joking aside, the problem, if there is one,of prostitution is that it is never going to go away. It needs to be properly looked at so that prostiutes can feel safe, from their clients, from pimps, organised crime and infection.
By fining the prostitute and the man never solves the problem. They should be given counselling and the opportunity to find alternative employment. Fining someone who has a drug habit doesn't make them give up they just need to work that much harder to get the money.
Its similar to the problem above, it needs a thoughtful approach to the problem. There should not be a no go area for anyone and the victims, in this case householders and prostitutes alike should be given protection and support.
I heard today that Gordon Brown is having a serious re-think about the super casinos in Manchester. Hooray. We live in a world where people are in serious debt and what do we want to do, give them an even easier way of getting into further debt?
I am unsure about the idea of the Mac A level, partly because it legitimises the idea of private education which is wrong, but it does allow for the whole aspect of the paperwork and qualifications that go with teaching to be brought into focus. I cannot wait until Offsted go to Mac College and ask to see lesson plans, programme reviews, marks and procedures let alone the documentation for the pastoral care. Like the police, education has become a self feeding buracracy. In the golden age of british education, the majority throughout the whole system from the infant to the graduate was free, the teachers most of which weren't qualified didn't take any lip, punishment was instant and without parents consent but had a discipline that enabled them to teach and more important for the children to learn. Now you have to pass qualifications that say you are a teacher, though it seems that most of these have very little to do with teaching but a lot about paperwork.
By the way, for those government ministers who think that health care should be going towards the American system, think of this, In this country we have to pay alot to keep our pets well. When my cat died it had cost me a small fortune in medication to keep him alive, until it was kinder to have him put down. That cost me £80. When grandad gets really ill and you can't afford the medication what are you going to do then, its not like a cat is it? I bet visits to Austria and Switzerland go up with a lot of old people going out but not coming back. Get my drift. I know the governement would say that wouldn't happen, but remember purchase tax that became VAT, that was only in place to pay for a war that eneded 60 years ago. Think on.
Friday, 4 January 2008
Antiscoial behaviour
From today's Guradian:
'Get them Polish out of your house or I'll burn it down'
When Ed Jones found a cheap and spacious house to buy in Salford, he thought his luck was in. Then a gang of teenagers took up residence on his doorstep. He got on with them well enough at first - but life soon descended into a cycle of vandalism, racist abuse and violence that eventually drove him from his homeEd JonesFriday January 4, 2008
GuardianThe location seemed perfect: a mile from the city centre, a priority area where millions of pounds of development money were pouring in. From the top of the street, you catch picturesque glimpses of Manchester. It was run down, yes, but there was a lovely old church up the hill and the surrounding streets appeared quiet. And the house was a snip, a four-bedroom terrace for £50,000, the price of a two-bed flat elsewhere at the time. So, in early 2005, I moved in. Big mistake.
There were early omens. One day, while I was renovating the house, I found that where there had been a 6ft-high double-brick wall surrounding the back yard, where it must have stood solidly for well over a century, there was now only a pile of bricks. I remember a sense of wonderment at the force it must have taken to demolish it, but let it go and had a fence built instead. While I was painting it, a passing, unsmiling neighbour commented, "That won't last" (though miraculously, in this case, it did).
Soon it emerged that property ownership in the traditional sense did not apply to my house. I had what amounted to joint tenancy with a gang of local boys who had taken up part-time residence on my porch and front steps, probably dating from the 18-month period the house had been empty before I bought it. The next-door neighbours advised me not to call the police on them; other people on the street told me that when they had done so, their tyres had been slashed.
I had lived in Hulme and Moss Side for most of my adult life, and in rockier times had done two years in jail, so I didn't anticipate anything I couldn't handle. I decided I'd try not to befriend the youths exactly, but at least to show them some kindness and tolerance in the hope that they would be more on my side than not, so that if there was any difficulty, we could sort it out between us. Initially, it worked, sort of. The group - wearing austere black sports clothes - were a gang of crisp-eating, spot-encrusted, monosyllabic thieves. There was no female accompaniment for these guys, whose average age was around 15. From my windows I often saw them with stolen motor scooters or cars. One night they took turns to spin a black BMW round and round the waste ground opposite, until a tired-looking policeman arrived (surrounding roads had been blocked off to prevent joyriding, making fast police access impossible).
Personally, I got on with the guys. They would knock sometimes when they got out of youth custody to tell me their jail stories and show me their war wounds. "How did you get that one?" I asked Martin one day, when he proudly displayed a particularly colourful post-incarceration shiner. "You gotta stand up for yourself in there, or they take the piss," he said.
Our relationship didn't stop them trying to break in through my back door one Monday morning when I was at work, battering it with a huge rock. Luckily, the door held - just, by the look of it - so I put up bars and an iron gate. Then they just disappeared. Graduated, I expect.
Kenny's crowd, who immediately took over the spot, were more colourful and came with several loud, underdressed girls who laughed and squealed a lot. I would come out some evenings to find a latticework of legs criss-crossing my porch. It hardly occurred to them to let me past. Kenny was 15 and liked to talk, mainly about the quality of the latest "weed". He often turned up in the early morning and sat there for most of the day.
They got drunk. There was noise sometimes, and always the smell of cannabis. They accidentally dented my car while fighting. They had "tunes" and porn on their mobile phones, and they dropped a cornucopia of litter.
Occasionally I did call the police, when things got particularly raucous, or when the "firebug", as he was known, scorched my phone lines. Generally they said there was nothing they could do unless I identified offenders in court, which wasn't always possible and in any case seemed unwise. The police didn't seem bothered.
Gino was the worst. He showed up only occasionally, but he drank heavily, begged favours compulsively and, Kenny told me, had stabbed his dad. When I was away, Gino and Kenny pulled the grille off my back window and broke in. Kenny admitted it one night when he was drunk and apologised, looking as if he was going to cry. He was 15 then, the youngest child of the most feared family in the area, so there was no way I was going to court with it.
One night I fell out with a 13-year-old girl who was a doorstep regular. She was drunk, banging ceaselessly on my door, and I shouted at her. When I appeared at the door the next afternoon, she rasped up some saliva and gobbed it across the porch where five of them were sitting.
I said something like, "Come on, Michelle, there's no need for that." She bunched her otherwise pretty face into a fist and screamed, "It's fucking Salford! I'll spit where I like!"
The phrase stuck in my mind as a testament to the culture of desolation that reigns in big swaths of Salford and Manchester. Michelle is 15 now, going to raves and taking ecstasy. "I love it," she told me recently.
The real shock came when I learned that a neighbour - whose little girl always waved to me and smiled from her own doorstep - had let Gino and Kenny store the stuff they took from my house in her yard until they could get rid of it. Sulking, I blanked her for months, until I discovered that she had the mental age of an adolescent.
"Mental problems" - and, indeed, bad health generally - were a theme in the area. Round the corner a young woman was going blind, owing to severe diabetes caused by eating nothing but sweets as a child. We secretly reported one couple because of the violent rows they were having in front of their two-year-old. A fortnight later the mother stopped me and said, "Someone reported us to social services."
"It wasn't me," I said.
"No, it was good. They've changed Darrell's pills. He's been much better since."
Darrell's younger brother also suffered from an acute form of depression. I paid him to fix my car sometimes, and Darrell to fix my computer. Gradually I discovered that nearly every house on the street had someone with mental health troubles. It was no secret: they chatted about one another's prescriptions.
During that first 18 months, youth diplomacy mostly did the trick. It was hard, but doable, and worth it because the house itself was so nice and spacious. When the lad from the big family who had broken in and later apologised got an Asbo banning him from the surrounding area, he and his friends stopped coming. It was quietish for a week or two; then a new group of teenagers took over the spot. And so it went on.
Then something nice happened. I found a Slovakian lodger and she brought in a couple of her friends. I had been lonely, and now the house was full again. Through my lodgers, I met a Polish woman and we became lovers. Eventually she too moved in. There was a buzz about the place. They were intelligent, considerate, hard-working people, a joy to live with, though they found it almost impossible to understand the culture of degradation around them. They found the deep sense of social neglect puzzling.
Looking back, I realise that this was the point where nuisance tipped into menace.
My car windscreen is smashed, for no apparent reason. The next morning, the same person comes back to do the side window. When I'm away, boys bang on the windows of the house, throw things at it and taunt my lodgers with racist and sexual insults. The young Slovakian woman calls the police; two officers turn up. One of them points at the culprits, who are still standing on the street within earshot, and asks her, "Was it them?"
She is horrified at the danger he has put her in and shakes her head. "No!" The youths laugh, the officers go. The taunts continue, only now my lodgers are more reluctant to call the police. But I find I am calling them more regularly, though secretly. I feel the change in atmosphere; it puzzles and frustrates me. There's more in the way of senseless vandalism, a remorselessness about it, and I'm less able to find out what is going on from the youths themselves.
The police hold a meeting about "antisocial behaviour" in the area. One of the officers tells me they are under pressure to clean up the area because of the development money that is pouring in. From my house, three of us attend the meeting, to find only five other civilians there. It is a forlorn sham. No one wants to be seen talking to the cops, and the police are surly and impatient.
It is around this time that I hear from a disillusioned police officer that Hazel Blears, MP for the area, has recently been at the top of our street with a police inspector having her photograph taken, claiming that the fight against antisocial behaviour in the area has been a success story. It all adds to the profound sense of dereliction. When I ask Blears to comment for this article, she says she's very busy but will get back to me. I've heard nothing more from her.
Youths smash the windows at the back of the house with stones and rocks. I put bars over the upstairs windows. A huge firework is thrown into the house through the back door. One of my lodgers is pelted with eggs on her way up the street and, once she goes inside, our front door becomes the target. My new car is vandalised. The drainpipes are pulled off the house. The porch is covered in graffiti, as are the windows. "Ed sucks Polish dick" is among the gambits. There's always some bother. I begin to show up on the police system as a repeat victim. They say there's nothing much they can do because they haven't got the resources, but they will increase patrols in the area. When I ask what that means exactly, the operator says they'll "drive past a few times".
The end comes one night after a nine-year-old and two 13-year-olds break the windows at the front of the house while my girlfriend's Polish friend is there in the room. The police take two hours and four calls to respond, by which time the boys have come back and punched out another pane.
Next day the neighbours tell me the house round the corner suffered the same fate a few days earlier. "There was Polish there too. They've moved out." Now I begin to see.
That night the house shakes with the force of bricks being hurled at the boards I've nailed over the front windows. The next night four youths knock on my door, 16- and 17-year-olds. When I answer, an older and much broader man appears from behind them and he is wearing a balaclava. He takes it off and makes a speech about how I "don't come from round here". How he's a working-class man and I've got no right to insult his comrades. I'd shouted at them the night before over the brick-hurling.
The younger lads try to drag me out of the house; I realise they are drunk. The man with the balaclava stops them. I realise he is sober. Momentarily, I feel safer. Then he punches me twice in the face - he is wearing special punching gloves with hardened knuckles stitched in.
He kicks me and bellows: "This is it, right? You've got two weeks to get them fucking Polish out the house or I'm gonna burn it down! Get it?" As I stand there bleeding, he points at me and says, "You're not bleeding" and launches into a tirade about how "these Polish" are "coming here and taking over". Turning to go, he points back at me and says, "I'm serious about them Polish - get them out!"
The next day, we comply with the order. The house, I now realise, became a serious target only when my eastern European lodgers moved in. This can never be sorted out by diplomacy or drive-by policing. It is simple racist fury and it isn't going to stop. I go too, of course. We leave a sign in the window saying: "Polish people have moved out."
Once we have gone, the police appoint a special officer to coordinate their response with extra patrols and increased cover. But the house was marked, and now it is empty. I stop by one day to discover that the rear fence has been pulled down and burned. The windows behind the grilles at the back are smashed, as are the remaining windows downstairs at the front. I board up the whole house.
Soon after, burning newspaper and fireworks are pushed through the letterbox. The police produce photos of 12 suspects in the earlier doorstep attack. None of the likely culprits is featured, despite my having supplied a first name, description and nickname for two of them.
The attacks on the house go on unabated. A group of youths pull off the metal gate from the back door and when a workman arrives to secure it, more than a dozen people surround his van, jump on it and stone it. When he flees, they kick in the back door and enter to break everything inside they can, hurling around lumps of concrete and tearing up cupboards. No one in the street calls the police.
The house is now on the market.
The feeling, now that I've gone? Relief to be getting out of Salford; something most of the young from my doorstep on that street will probably never do.
· Names have been changed
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2008
It is a sad comment on society today that a bunch of tennagers, many of who were clearly still of school age should be allowed to spend their time smoking dope, drinking and commiting acts of vandalism on someone else's doorstep. If the attitude is 'well at least they're not hurting anyone' then it shows how degraded we have become. I don't care what anyone does in their own home (as long as it doesn't involving harming anyone else - unless, of course, consensual) but people have to have a sense of community responsibility otherwise how can society function? First of all parents have a responsibility to bring their children up with a sense of social decency. Secondly schools and other authority groups need to be given the resources and support to instill scoial responsibility.
All this needs to be done with carrot and stick.
We cannot win a war against illegal drugs unless we make the risks unacceptable and the rewards for seeking an alternative lifestyle greater.
As for the man who shouted about the Polish (apart from the fact that he almost certainly has immigrant blood in him anyway), perhaps he should ask why UK employers can't find UK citizens to fill the jobs available. If young people choose to see no value in education then why should they complain about a lack of jobs. If it is down to peer pressure, or even a lack of parental support, then let social services take those children away, and not to the current squalid halfway houses that seem to form the backbone of this provision, but to centres with proper counsellors, mentors, psychologists and specialist teachers.
What is sadder than the deprevation and waste is the refusal of sections of the community to see that intervention is not about a 'nanny state' but about the state accepting responsibility when individuals will not.
Who won in this article, not the man who had his house 'stolen', but equally not the pointless wastes of space who still frequent the doorstep and still see virtue in mindless vandalism. Is it enough just to sit by wringing our hands with despair and secretly thinking 'at least that isn't me'? No, it is time for people to take action and if that involves a few home truths and a bit of extra money (funny how we're always able to find money for things like the olympics), then so be it.
'Get them Polish out of your house or I'll burn it down'
When Ed Jones found a cheap and spacious house to buy in Salford, he thought his luck was in. Then a gang of teenagers took up residence on his doorstep. He got on with them well enough at first - but life soon descended into a cycle of vandalism, racist abuse and violence that eventually drove him from his homeEd JonesFriday January 4, 2008
GuardianThe location seemed perfect: a mile from the city centre, a priority area where millions of pounds of development money were pouring in. From the top of the street, you catch picturesque glimpses of Manchester. It was run down, yes, but there was a lovely old church up the hill and the surrounding streets appeared quiet. And the house was a snip, a four-bedroom terrace for £50,000, the price of a two-bed flat elsewhere at the time. So, in early 2005, I moved in. Big mistake.
There were early omens. One day, while I was renovating the house, I found that where there had been a 6ft-high double-brick wall surrounding the back yard, where it must have stood solidly for well over a century, there was now only a pile of bricks. I remember a sense of wonderment at the force it must have taken to demolish it, but let it go and had a fence built instead. While I was painting it, a passing, unsmiling neighbour commented, "That won't last" (though miraculously, in this case, it did).
Soon it emerged that property ownership in the traditional sense did not apply to my house. I had what amounted to joint tenancy with a gang of local boys who had taken up part-time residence on my porch and front steps, probably dating from the 18-month period the house had been empty before I bought it. The next-door neighbours advised me not to call the police on them; other people on the street told me that when they had done so, their tyres had been slashed.
I had lived in Hulme and Moss Side for most of my adult life, and in rockier times had done two years in jail, so I didn't anticipate anything I couldn't handle. I decided I'd try not to befriend the youths exactly, but at least to show them some kindness and tolerance in the hope that they would be more on my side than not, so that if there was any difficulty, we could sort it out between us. Initially, it worked, sort of. The group - wearing austere black sports clothes - were a gang of crisp-eating, spot-encrusted, monosyllabic thieves. There was no female accompaniment for these guys, whose average age was around 15. From my windows I often saw them with stolen motor scooters or cars. One night they took turns to spin a black BMW round and round the waste ground opposite, until a tired-looking policeman arrived (surrounding roads had been blocked off to prevent joyriding, making fast police access impossible).
Personally, I got on with the guys. They would knock sometimes when they got out of youth custody to tell me their jail stories and show me their war wounds. "How did you get that one?" I asked Martin one day, when he proudly displayed a particularly colourful post-incarceration shiner. "You gotta stand up for yourself in there, or they take the piss," he said.
Our relationship didn't stop them trying to break in through my back door one Monday morning when I was at work, battering it with a huge rock. Luckily, the door held - just, by the look of it - so I put up bars and an iron gate. Then they just disappeared. Graduated, I expect.
Kenny's crowd, who immediately took over the spot, were more colourful and came with several loud, underdressed girls who laughed and squealed a lot. I would come out some evenings to find a latticework of legs criss-crossing my porch. It hardly occurred to them to let me past. Kenny was 15 and liked to talk, mainly about the quality of the latest "weed". He often turned up in the early morning and sat there for most of the day.
They got drunk. There was noise sometimes, and always the smell of cannabis. They accidentally dented my car while fighting. They had "tunes" and porn on their mobile phones, and they dropped a cornucopia of litter.
Occasionally I did call the police, when things got particularly raucous, or when the "firebug", as he was known, scorched my phone lines. Generally they said there was nothing they could do unless I identified offenders in court, which wasn't always possible and in any case seemed unwise. The police didn't seem bothered.
Gino was the worst. He showed up only occasionally, but he drank heavily, begged favours compulsively and, Kenny told me, had stabbed his dad. When I was away, Gino and Kenny pulled the grille off my back window and broke in. Kenny admitted it one night when he was drunk and apologised, looking as if he was going to cry. He was 15 then, the youngest child of the most feared family in the area, so there was no way I was going to court with it.
One night I fell out with a 13-year-old girl who was a doorstep regular. She was drunk, banging ceaselessly on my door, and I shouted at her. When I appeared at the door the next afternoon, she rasped up some saliva and gobbed it across the porch where five of them were sitting.
I said something like, "Come on, Michelle, there's no need for that." She bunched her otherwise pretty face into a fist and screamed, "It's fucking Salford! I'll spit where I like!"
The phrase stuck in my mind as a testament to the culture of desolation that reigns in big swaths of Salford and Manchester. Michelle is 15 now, going to raves and taking ecstasy. "I love it," she told me recently.
The real shock came when I learned that a neighbour - whose little girl always waved to me and smiled from her own doorstep - had let Gino and Kenny store the stuff they took from my house in her yard until they could get rid of it. Sulking, I blanked her for months, until I discovered that she had the mental age of an adolescent.
"Mental problems" - and, indeed, bad health generally - were a theme in the area. Round the corner a young woman was going blind, owing to severe diabetes caused by eating nothing but sweets as a child. We secretly reported one couple because of the violent rows they were having in front of their two-year-old. A fortnight later the mother stopped me and said, "Someone reported us to social services."
"It wasn't me," I said.
"No, it was good. They've changed Darrell's pills. He's been much better since."
Darrell's younger brother also suffered from an acute form of depression. I paid him to fix my car sometimes, and Darrell to fix my computer. Gradually I discovered that nearly every house on the street had someone with mental health troubles. It was no secret: they chatted about one another's prescriptions.
During that first 18 months, youth diplomacy mostly did the trick. It was hard, but doable, and worth it because the house itself was so nice and spacious. When the lad from the big family who had broken in and later apologised got an Asbo banning him from the surrounding area, he and his friends stopped coming. It was quietish for a week or two; then a new group of teenagers took over the spot. And so it went on.
Then something nice happened. I found a Slovakian lodger and she brought in a couple of her friends. I had been lonely, and now the house was full again. Through my lodgers, I met a Polish woman and we became lovers. Eventually she too moved in. There was a buzz about the place. They were intelligent, considerate, hard-working people, a joy to live with, though they found it almost impossible to understand the culture of degradation around them. They found the deep sense of social neglect puzzling.
Looking back, I realise that this was the point where nuisance tipped into menace.
My car windscreen is smashed, for no apparent reason. The next morning, the same person comes back to do the side window. When I'm away, boys bang on the windows of the house, throw things at it and taunt my lodgers with racist and sexual insults. The young Slovakian woman calls the police; two officers turn up. One of them points at the culprits, who are still standing on the street within earshot, and asks her, "Was it them?"
She is horrified at the danger he has put her in and shakes her head. "No!" The youths laugh, the officers go. The taunts continue, only now my lodgers are more reluctant to call the police. But I find I am calling them more regularly, though secretly. I feel the change in atmosphere; it puzzles and frustrates me. There's more in the way of senseless vandalism, a remorselessness about it, and I'm less able to find out what is going on from the youths themselves.
The police hold a meeting about "antisocial behaviour" in the area. One of the officers tells me they are under pressure to clean up the area because of the development money that is pouring in. From my house, three of us attend the meeting, to find only five other civilians there. It is a forlorn sham. No one wants to be seen talking to the cops, and the police are surly and impatient.
It is around this time that I hear from a disillusioned police officer that Hazel Blears, MP for the area, has recently been at the top of our street with a police inspector having her photograph taken, claiming that the fight against antisocial behaviour in the area has been a success story. It all adds to the profound sense of dereliction. When I ask Blears to comment for this article, she says she's very busy but will get back to me. I've heard nothing more from her.
Youths smash the windows at the back of the house with stones and rocks. I put bars over the upstairs windows. A huge firework is thrown into the house through the back door. One of my lodgers is pelted with eggs on her way up the street and, once she goes inside, our front door becomes the target. My new car is vandalised. The drainpipes are pulled off the house. The porch is covered in graffiti, as are the windows. "Ed sucks Polish dick" is among the gambits. There's always some bother. I begin to show up on the police system as a repeat victim. They say there's nothing much they can do because they haven't got the resources, but they will increase patrols in the area. When I ask what that means exactly, the operator says they'll "drive past a few times".
The end comes one night after a nine-year-old and two 13-year-olds break the windows at the front of the house while my girlfriend's Polish friend is there in the room. The police take two hours and four calls to respond, by which time the boys have come back and punched out another pane.
Next day the neighbours tell me the house round the corner suffered the same fate a few days earlier. "There was Polish there too. They've moved out." Now I begin to see.
That night the house shakes with the force of bricks being hurled at the boards I've nailed over the front windows. The next night four youths knock on my door, 16- and 17-year-olds. When I answer, an older and much broader man appears from behind them and he is wearing a balaclava. He takes it off and makes a speech about how I "don't come from round here". How he's a working-class man and I've got no right to insult his comrades. I'd shouted at them the night before over the brick-hurling.
The younger lads try to drag me out of the house; I realise they are drunk. The man with the balaclava stops them. I realise he is sober. Momentarily, I feel safer. Then he punches me twice in the face - he is wearing special punching gloves with hardened knuckles stitched in.
He kicks me and bellows: "This is it, right? You've got two weeks to get them fucking Polish out the house or I'm gonna burn it down! Get it?" As I stand there bleeding, he points at me and says, "You're not bleeding" and launches into a tirade about how "these Polish" are "coming here and taking over". Turning to go, he points back at me and says, "I'm serious about them Polish - get them out!"
The next day, we comply with the order. The house, I now realise, became a serious target only when my eastern European lodgers moved in. This can never be sorted out by diplomacy or drive-by policing. It is simple racist fury and it isn't going to stop. I go too, of course. We leave a sign in the window saying: "Polish people have moved out."
Once we have gone, the police appoint a special officer to coordinate their response with extra patrols and increased cover. But the house was marked, and now it is empty. I stop by one day to discover that the rear fence has been pulled down and burned. The windows behind the grilles at the back are smashed, as are the remaining windows downstairs at the front. I board up the whole house.
Soon after, burning newspaper and fireworks are pushed through the letterbox. The police produce photos of 12 suspects in the earlier doorstep attack. None of the likely culprits is featured, despite my having supplied a first name, description and nickname for two of them.
The attacks on the house go on unabated. A group of youths pull off the metal gate from the back door and when a workman arrives to secure it, more than a dozen people surround his van, jump on it and stone it. When he flees, they kick in the back door and enter to break everything inside they can, hurling around lumps of concrete and tearing up cupboards. No one in the street calls the police.
The house is now on the market.
The feeling, now that I've gone? Relief to be getting out of Salford; something most of the young from my doorstep on that street will probably never do.
· Names have been changed
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2008
It is a sad comment on society today that a bunch of tennagers, many of who were clearly still of school age should be allowed to spend their time smoking dope, drinking and commiting acts of vandalism on someone else's doorstep. If the attitude is 'well at least they're not hurting anyone' then it shows how degraded we have become. I don't care what anyone does in their own home (as long as it doesn't involving harming anyone else - unless, of course, consensual) but people have to have a sense of community responsibility otherwise how can society function? First of all parents have a responsibility to bring their children up with a sense of social decency. Secondly schools and other authority groups need to be given the resources and support to instill scoial responsibility.
All this needs to be done with carrot and stick.
We cannot win a war against illegal drugs unless we make the risks unacceptable and the rewards for seeking an alternative lifestyle greater.
As for the man who shouted about the Polish (apart from the fact that he almost certainly has immigrant blood in him anyway), perhaps he should ask why UK employers can't find UK citizens to fill the jobs available. If young people choose to see no value in education then why should they complain about a lack of jobs. If it is down to peer pressure, or even a lack of parental support, then let social services take those children away, and not to the current squalid halfway houses that seem to form the backbone of this provision, but to centres with proper counsellors, mentors, psychologists and specialist teachers.
What is sadder than the deprevation and waste is the refusal of sections of the community to see that intervention is not about a 'nanny state' but about the state accepting responsibility when individuals will not.
Who won in this article, not the man who had his house 'stolen', but equally not the pointless wastes of space who still frequent the doorstep and still see virtue in mindless vandalism. Is it enough just to sit by wringing our hands with despair and secretly thinking 'at least that isn't me'? No, it is time for people to take action and if that involves a few home truths and a bit of extra money (funny how we're always able to find money for things like the olympics), then so be it.
Monday, 10 December 2007
The following is taken from saturday's Guardian:
"Perceived neglect
One Thursday lunchtime, Lisa Bacon was visited by social services after an anonymous caller reported her for allowing her seven-year-old son to walk to school alone. Had she done wrong?Lisa BaconSaturday December 8, 2007
GuardianThursday, 1pm, about to have lunch. Knock at the door. It's a woman from children's services come to investigate an anonymous report made about me to the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children (NSPCC). Was it true, she asked, that I let my seven-year-old walk to and from school alone, that I left him home alone, and that I let my youngest child (three) play unsupervised in the road out front?
My appetite evaporated, as did any peace of mind, for the next few weeks. How is a parent supposed to react to allegations of neglect? I was, and am still, upset, even though I know the complaints are unjustified.
Seven weeks earlier, I had started letting my son (who's now eight) travel 1km each way to and from school alone. We live in a quiet residential area and almost the only cars on the road are those on the schoolrun. We discussed where was safe to cross and I followed behind as I have another school-age child, so I always knew my son got to school OK. After school we met before he headed off. He had a key to let himself in at home because he got so far ahead. Twice my younger child had been too ill to attend school, so I let my nearly eight-year-old son go to school without me following behind.
He loved the independence. He whizzed off on his scooter - he was never late to school any more. He whizzed home to use the toilet, have a snack, start his homework. He didn't argue with, or have to wait about for, dawdling and temperamental siblings.
On a few occasions, he left the house to come back up the road to chat with us coming home. I expressed considerable praise the first time - because he remembered to lock the door behind him, and I hadn't talked about that previously. Suddenly, my son felt a tangible link between privilege and responsibility. He's been keen since to show himself as responsible in other ways.
There were hiccups; once I left my son playing just inside the school gate, expecting him to follow soon after. Instead he got into a fight, and after that I always waited for him to go out of the gates before I headed home. Once he had a lift home from another well-meaning parent. It was a good opportunity to reiterate that he mustn't take lifts home from school, even from people we know.
Also, since his seventh birthday, on a handful of occasions, I had left him alone at home so I could do the school run. Typically for about 25 minutes, always because he was ill or recovering from illness and it seemed cruel to get him dressed and drag him up to school and back for such a short period. Once he had a strop about not wanting to go to school. Exasperated, I left him alone to quickly take my other child up to the school; after I left, he changed his mind and followed behind.
In the two weeks preceding my visit from the council, I had twice left him at home alone briefly for less urgent reasons - dashing for a newspaper (12 minutes) or to take another child to swimming lessons (25 minutes). We had long and repeated chats about safety issues - what to do if there's smoke or fire, no cooking when home on his own, no helping anybody look for their lost puppy, no going into other people's houses on the way to school, always watch for cars, etc.
As for the claim that cars were having to brake suddenly to avoid hitting my littlest child in the road out front - I was flummoxed. "When?" I said. But there were no more details. My youngest has dashed into the road on occasions. I think I can remember waving thanks to drivers who had to slow down suddenly. Or maybe in the mornings, starting off to school when the children sometimes stood at the top of the drive (still off the road), waiting for me to lock the door - did drivers get worried then? The only awful incident was when a lady brought my toddler to the door to say he'd been out in the road alone. He had unexpectedly learned to undo latches on the side gate. We put an extra latch on the outside, where he couldn't reach. I thought we'd done enough. But now I found my competence as a parent being questioned.
Maybe I deserved to be told off for my (many) mistakes and misjudgments. But how many of us have made parenting decisions that we soon regretted or that other people didn't like? I might have expected some disapproval from others for my actions but I didn't expect anyone to report me for it.
The woman from children's services left without telling me to change anything I was doing. A week later, a letter came saying (only) that in the view of social services, my son was too young to leave home alone, even for short periods. He should be supervised at all times. I wrote back, to clarify whether "all times" applied to the school journey, too. And at what age would my son be, in the view of social services, old enough to leave unsupervised for specified periods? Up to half an hour, up to two hours? Without specific guidance from social services I don't see how I can avoid coming to their attention again. I still await their reply.
At a time when we are repeatedly warned that we should let children take more risks and have more freedom, it didn't seem so ridiculous to try giving my eight-year-old a little responsibility. I am not a self-confident person, and I've struggled ever since with parenting decisions - caught between my instincts and the fear of "What will someone else think?" My sleep is disturbed; it's hard to relax.
Maybe I should just drive all my children to and from school, instead. This would pollute the air, add to global warming, add to the risk of road accidents around the school, and contribute to the risk of my children becoming obese - but nobody would report me to the NSPCC about any of those things.
I'm not a fighter or a campaigner. If children's services tell me not to do something, I won't do it - the last thing I want is for them to keep their file open on me. If someone else says, "I wouldn't let my eight-year-old walk outside or stay at home alone," I have no opinion. Individuals should make up their own minds about what risks they find tolerable to expose themselves and their families to. That's not the same as declaring that everyone else should balance risks against possible benefits. Anyway, the decision has been taken away from my family; I don't feel we have the same choices as other parents in these matters any more. We have been disempowered by a single, anonymous phone call.
Maybe after a while we would have decided we weren't comfortable with our son being alone at home just yet, or going anywhere out of our line of sight. We were still figuring out the risk boundaries and right ways to manage the possible hazards for ourselves - but all that is curtailed now. I am left at a loss about when and how to start giving my son any freedoms again. It's all made more bewildering because I'm an outsider. Although I have lived in the UK for 16 years I was raised in the USA. Maybe I should put this experience down to yet another set of culture differences I will never quite understand.
I'm not naive, I know the world is full of dangers, more so for small children. Sarah Payne was snatched on a country lane like the one I live on. But the chances of my son getting kidnapped and harmed by a stranger are similar to the odds of being struck by lightning. I can't tell my child, "You getting zapped by lightning I can live with, but I don't trust you to be alone for 25 minutes."
Who was the anonymous caller, who obviously knows a lot about me and my family? Their actions mean that any support I might have found in informal chats with other parents is limited - it's not paranoia when you know someone is out to get you. Or at least, judges you severely, won't say it to your face but is all too willing to share notes with others. My children may be marginally safer than before, but I have become a worse person (angry) and a poorer parent (less confident). I am reluctant to volunteer again for the pre-school committee, the school PTA or as a classroom helper, or to seek a job that involves contact with children - in case background checks reveal that I was investigated and I have to explain.
Four years ago, we lived in a poor, immigrant neighbourhood in Loughborough. Around the corner in one direction were dodgy flats, with a reputation for drug-dealing and arson. Around another corner a busy high street, including two licensed sex shops and two unlicensed brothels. Summer days and evenings our road filled with children playing out, some as young as four. I was always the only supervising adult outside among the children. I shudder to think of the reception I would have had from Bangladeshi neighbours had I asked why they didn't come out to watch their offspring: "They watch out for each other," "But it's normal!".
The area I now live in has average social indicators (income, home ownership levels, etc). Most residents are stable working families or pensioners. It's a low-crime, low-traffic residential corner of a small, sleepy market town. But it's reckoned unsafe for a nearly eight-year-old to walk unescorted for five-15 minutes in broad daylight. Am I crazy to think some kind of madness is at work?"
I have emailed the following response but leave others to draw their own conclusions.
'I am stunned that 'Lisa Bacon' cannot see what she might have done wrong. There are a myriad of points she fails to take into account regarding her eight year old, but for the moment I'd like to focus just on the following:
"My youngest has dashed into the road occasions. I think I can remember waving thanks to the drivers who had to slow down suddenly.... a lady brought my toddler to the door to say that he'd been out in the road alone. He had unexpecdtedly learned to undo latches on the side gate. we put an extra latch on the outside, where he couldn't reach. I thought we'd done enough. But now I found my competence as a parent being questioned."
So, it's okay to leave a 3 year old playing on their own outside without any supervision and then to feel that waving to drivers and putting an extra latch on the gate was demonstrating parental responsibility. Frankly I don't understand why you have had children, since you clearly don't care about them - certainly enough to supervise them. This is completely incompetent and unreasonable. How would you have felt if one of those drivers hadn't seen your son until too late and had run him over and killed him? Who would you have blamed then? Presumably you would have wanted people to share in your grief at such a tragic accident?
Attitudes like this make me sick as they represent the kind of uncaring society that expects kids to just get on with growing up and then pathetically wrings it's hands when they start drinking, smoking and having sex without any thought to the consequences, because for those children there aren't any. Worse, they feel able to hold this position as being better than molly-coddled children who aren't allowed to take risks, when surely logic says there is something in between.
I'm sure the picture attached to the article is merely 'representative' but it should be noted that this child clearly either hasn't been told to keep to the edge of the road, or has just forgotten, as eight year olds do (I have a 12 year old who is more than capable of forgetting what he's been told a hundred times).'
"Perceived neglect
One Thursday lunchtime, Lisa Bacon was visited by social services after an anonymous caller reported her for allowing her seven-year-old son to walk to school alone. Had she done wrong?Lisa BaconSaturday December 8, 2007
GuardianThursday, 1pm, about to have lunch. Knock at the door. It's a woman from children's services come to investigate an anonymous report made about me to the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children (NSPCC). Was it true, she asked, that I let my seven-year-old walk to and from school alone, that I left him home alone, and that I let my youngest child (three) play unsupervised in the road out front?
My appetite evaporated, as did any peace of mind, for the next few weeks. How is a parent supposed to react to allegations of neglect? I was, and am still, upset, even though I know the complaints are unjustified.
Seven weeks earlier, I had started letting my son (who's now eight) travel 1km each way to and from school alone. We live in a quiet residential area and almost the only cars on the road are those on the schoolrun. We discussed where was safe to cross and I followed behind as I have another school-age child, so I always knew my son got to school OK. After school we met before he headed off. He had a key to let himself in at home because he got so far ahead. Twice my younger child had been too ill to attend school, so I let my nearly eight-year-old son go to school without me following behind.
He loved the independence. He whizzed off on his scooter - he was never late to school any more. He whizzed home to use the toilet, have a snack, start his homework. He didn't argue with, or have to wait about for, dawdling and temperamental siblings.
On a few occasions, he left the house to come back up the road to chat with us coming home. I expressed considerable praise the first time - because he remembered to lock the door behind him, and I hadn't talked about that previously. Suddenly, my son felt a tangible link between privilege and responsibility. He's been keen since to show himself as responsible in other ways.
There were hiccups; once I left my son playing just inside the school gate, expecting him to follow soon after. Instead he got into a fight, and after that I always waited for him to go out of the gates before I headed home. Once he had a lift home from another well-meaning parent. It was a good opportunity to reiterate that he mustn't take lifts home from school, even from people we know.
Also, since his seventh birthday, on a handful of occasions, I had left him alone at home so I could do the school run. Typically for about 25 minutes, always because he was ill or recovering from illness and it seemed cruel to get him dressed and drag him up to school and back for such a short period. Once he had a strop about not wanting to go to school. Exasperated, I left him alone to quickly take my other child up to the school; after I left, he changed his mind and followed behind.
In the two weeks preceding my visit from the council, I had twice left him at home alone briefly for less urgent reasons - dashing for a newspaper (12 minutes) or to take another child to swimming lessons (25 minutes). We had long and repeated chats about safety issues - what to do if there's smoke or fire, no cooking when home on his own, no helping anybody look for their lost puppy, no going into other people's houses on the way to school, always watch for cars, etc.
As for the claim that cars were having to brake suddenly to avoid hitting my littlest child in the road out front - I was flummoxed. "When?" I said. But there were no more details. My youngest has dashed into the road on occasions. I think I can remember waving thanks to drivers who had to slow down suddenly. Or maybe in the mornings, starting off to school when the children sometimes stood at the top of the drive (still off the road), waiting for me to lock the door - did drivers get worried then? The only awful incident was when a lady brought my toddler to the door to say he'd been out in the road alone. He had unexpectedly learned to undo latches on the side gate. We put an extra latch on the outside, where he couldn't reach. I thought we'd done enough. But now I found my competence as a parent being questioned.
Maybe I deserved to be told off for my (many) mistakes and misjudgments. But how many of us have made parenting decisions that we soon regretted or that other people didn't like? I might have expected some disapproval from others for my actions but I didn't expect anyone to report me for it.
The woman from children's services left without telling me to change anything I was doing. A week later, a letter came saying (only) that in the view of social services, my son was too young to leave home alone, even for short periods. He should be supervised at all times. I wrote back, to clarify whether "all times" applied to the school journey, too. And at what age would my son be, in the view of social services, old enough to leave unsupervised for specified periods? Up to half an hour, up to two hours? Without specific guidance from social services I don't see how I can avoid coming to their attention again. I still await their reply.
At a time when we are repeatedly warned that we should let children take more risks and have more freedom, it didn't seem so ridiculous to try giving my eight-year-old a little responsibility. I am not a self-confident person, and I've struggled ever since with parenting decisions - caught between my instincts and the fear of "What will someone else think?" My sleep is disturbed; it's hard to relax.
Maybe I should just drive all my children to and from school, instead. This would pollute the air, add to global warming, add to the risk of road accidents around the school, and contribute to the risk of my children becoming obese - but nobody would report me to the NSPCC about any of those things.
I'm not a fighter or a campaigner. If children's services tell me not to do something, I won't do it - the last thing I want is for them to keep their file open on me. If someone else says, "I wouldn't let my eight-year-old walk outside or stay at home alone," I have no opinion. Individuals should make up their own minds about what risks they find tolerable to expose themselves and their families to. That's not the same as declaring that everyone else should balance risks against possible benefits. Anyway, the decision has been taken away from my family; I don't feel we have the same choices as other parents in these matters any more. We have been disempowered by a single, anonymous phone call.
Maybe after a while we would have decided we weren't comfortable with our son being alone at home just yet, or going anywhere out of our line of sight. We were still figuring out the risk boundaries and right ways to manage the possible hazards for ourselves - but all that is curtailed now. I am left at a loss about when and how to start giving my son any freedoms again. It's all made more bewildering because I'm an outsider. Although I have lived in the UK for 16 years I was raised in the USA. Maybe I should put this experience down to yet another set of culture differences I will never quite understand.
I'm not naive, I know the world is full of dangers, more so for small children. Sarah Payne was snatched on a country lane like the one I live on. But the chances of my son getting kidnapped and harmed by a stranger are similar to the odds of being struck by lightning. I can't tell my child, "You getting zapped by lightning I can live with, but I don't trust you to be alone for 25 minutes."
Who was the anonymous caller, who obviously knows a lot about me and my family? Their actions mean that any support I might have found in informal chats with other parents is limited - it's not paranoia when you know someone is out to get you. Or at least, judges you severely, won't say it to your face but is all too willing to share notes with others. My children may be marginally safer than before, but I have become a worse person (angry) and a poorer parent (less confident). I am reluctant to volunteer again for the pre-school committee, the school PTA or as a classroom helper, or to seek a job that involves contact with children - in case background checks reveal that I was investigated and I have to explain.
Four years ago, we lived in a poor, immigrant neighbourhood in Loughborough. Around the corner in one direction were dodgy flats, with a reputation for drug-dealing and arson. Around another corner a busy high street, including two licensed sex shops and two unlicensed brothels. Summer days and evenings our road filled with children playing out, some as young as four. I was always the only supervising adult outside among the children. I shudder to think of the reception I would have had from Bangladeshi neighbours had I asked why they didn't come out to watch their offspring: "They watch out for each other," "But it's normal!".
The area I now live in has average social indicators (income, home ownership levels, etc). Most residents are stable working families or pensioners. It's a low-crime, low-traffic residential corner of a small, sleepy market town. But it's reckoned unsafe for a nearly eight-year-old to walk unescorted for five-15 minutes in broad daylight. Am I crazy to think some kind of madness is at work?"
I have emailed the following response but leave others to draw their own conclusions.
'I am stunned that 'Lisa Bacon' cannot see what she might have done wrong. There are a myriad of points she fails to take into account regarding her eight year old, but for the moment I'd like to focus just on the following:
"My youngest has dashed into the road occasions. I think I can remember waving thanks to the drivers who had to slow down suddenly.... a lady brought my toddler to the door to say that he'd been out in the road alone. He had unexpecdtedly learned to undo latches on the side gate. we put an extra latch on the outside, where he couldn't reach. I thought we'd done enough. But now I found my competence as a parent being questioned."
So, it's okay to leave a 3 year old playing on their own outside without any supervision and then to feel that waving to drivers and putting an extra latch on the gate was demonstrating parental responsibility. Frankly I don't understand why you have had children, since you clearly don't care about them - certainly enough to supervise them. This is completely incompetent and unreasonable. How would you have felt if one of those drivers hadn't seen your son until too late and had run him over and killed him? Who would you have blamed then? Presumably you would have wanted people to share in your grief at such a tragic accident?
Attitudes like this make me sick as they represent the kind of uncaring society that expects kids to just get on with growing up and then pathetically wrings it's hands when they start drinking, smoking and having sex without any thought to the consequences, because for those children there aren't any. Worse, they feel able to hold this position as being better than molly-coddled children who aren't allowed to take risks, when surely logic says there is something in between.
I'm sure the picture attached to the article is merely 'representative' but it should be noted that this child clearly either hasn't been told to keep to the edge of the road, or has just forgotten, as eight year olds do (I have a 12 year old who is more than capable of forgetting what he's been told a hundred times).'
New hoodie
An article in today's Metro shows a new type of hoodie that completely covers the face and has to clear plastic disks for eyes. The village idiot can probably work out that these will be perfect disguises for anyone wishing to commit pretty much any crime, though I'm particularly concerned about violent crime. Rather than legislate against such crass stupidity i think we should encourage more responsible manufacturing by suing manufacturers for damages everytime one of these items is used when a crime is committed. We may not be able to convict the criminal, because of the helpful anonymity provided by the manufacturers, but at least somebody would be paying for the responsibility.
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