Monday 21 December 2009
Sunday 20 December 2009
Tuesday 15 December 2009
Sunday 13 December 2009
christmas is coming
• Sorry I’ve been a bit silent, sometimes it’s a choice between doing things, and writing about doing things, and for the last month I’ve been meeting people, working for Lutonians, and formulating ideas about particular challenges. That’s why the blog has suffered, you could call it being blogged down, (sorry again), here’s a summary of some of the past events.
• Terrific news for one Lutonian. Dave Lee came to see me because he had been driven to despair by the Child Support Agency who were trying to claim £7,000 from him for periods of time when he was unemployed, (he had worked for Vauxhall for 23 years and his children are now almost adult). I went with him to the County Court, where Dave broke down, realizing there was nothing more he could do because the judge more in sorrow than in anger said he had no choice but to allow the CSA to put a charge on Dave’s home. Then the CSA immediately sent a threatening letter saying they would force a sale. Which would have been a complete disaster. I suggested one more possibility. Maybe publicity would force the CSA to re-examine their records. Dave agreed. So we alerted the local media, (front page story in the Luton paper, two features on 3 Counties RAdio), and lo and behold! the CSA took another look and realized they were wrong. So they’ve just written to Dave to say there will be no threat to his home now. He sent me a gorgeous bunch of roses. Thank you Dave.
• I attended a fabulous Hindu service, crowded hall, wonderful music, delicious food, and best of all, families celebrating happily together. A real community, and so welcoming. Really moving and impressive, I was so grateful for the invitation. But they told me they desperately need a hall of their own, they can only hold their services at the moment thanks to the Catholic community renting them their hall. It’s so rare to see such religious and cultural commitment, come on Luton Council, find somewhere for them!
• Many school visits, three or four a week, touring classrooms, meeting staff and children and speaking at assemblies. Two results for me, firstly, I could discover the issues facing schools and families in Luton. Secondly, I could spread the message that ChildLine 0800 1111 is free, confidential, for any child with any problem. I didn’t expect to see such contrasts. In some schools, teachers are struggling valiantly with an appalling lack of resources. (One head teacher pointed out the insanity of insisting that all schools have two family workers, even when some don’t need them, and others need a minimum of six). Even in the schools where it was clear the children are being very successfully educated, head teachers told me it’s difficult to attract teachers to Luton. (I’m still mystified by this perceived stigma, I love Luton!). After weeks of school visits, I am struck yet again by the crucial factor in determining children’s future, which is not glamorous school buildings, not money, but motivated loving parents. It’s when children don’t have those role models that we depend on schools to provide them. It’s so crucial for children, especially the ones growing up in violent unloving backgrounds, if we don’t improve schools and pastoral care, how else can we break the cycle of neglect and abuse?
• A new, very difficult problem brought to me in my “surgery” in the Indoor Market, a story of abuse, and incompetent child protection. Unravelling the reasons and the solution will take time and sensitivity, so as not to hurt the child at the centre. Alas, one mistake has had terrible consequences.
• Age Concern visit, very impressed by the services they offer, a brilliant use of dedicated volunteers running their friendship helpline, and other innovative services, like life-coaching for the newly bereaved, a supply of home helps, and reliable handy-men. Having met the staff I now hope to meet some of the members of their lunch-time group.
• Heartening visit to Hibbert Street Alms Houses, where Mick told me fabulous tale of the local publican who looked after her when she had a hip operation, and clearly deserves a Heart of Gold Award, mind you, so does she for treating her neighbours to a terrific Christmas lunch in the Cross Keys. Christmas is the time for children, but lovely to see old people enjoying themselves, and being so generous with so little. Isn’t that always the way!
• This weekend, acting as the presenter of a carol concert in High Town was the high spot of my Christmas so far. Pasque Harmony (ladies in fabulous blue sparkly dresses) were giving a concert with the Priory Choir from Dunstable (angelic in long red gowns) in aid of the Keech Hospice. The Methodist Church in High Town was full, the congregation sang lustily and tunefully, and nobody minded at all they were missing the semi-finals of Strictly and X Factor. Pasque Harmony presented a cheque for £20,000 to Keech, brilliant! Having opened the new unit at Keech, met their staff and patients and their families, I know how precious and valuable that donation is. Most people, I think, don’t realize that nearly all hospices depend entirely on donations to keep going.
• Tonight I’ll continue with my Luton Christmas, celebrating the Christmas Tree Festival in Caddington, and then accepting a cheque on behalf of Marie Curie from the Vauxhall Recreation Club. A perfect way to prepare for the ordeal of next week’s shopping and card sending, which I must get down to, my kitchen table is strewn with unaddressed envelopes and tinsel wrapping.
• What pizza did Good King Wenceslas order? The usual, deep pan, crisp and even. Just thought you’d like to know.
• Terrific news for one Lutonian. Dave Lee came to see me because he had been driven to despair by the Child Support Agency who were trying to claim £7,000 from him for periods of time when he was unemployed, (he had worked for Vauxhall for 23 years and his children are now almost adult). I went with him to the County Court, where Dave broke down, realizing there was nothing more he could do because the judge more in sorrow than in anger said he had no choice but to allow the CSA to put a charge on Dave’s home. Then the CSA immediately sent a threatening letter saying they would force a sale. Which would have been a complete disaster. I suggested one more possibility. Maybe publicity would force the CSA to re-examine their records. Dave agreed. So we alerted the local media, (front page story in the Luton paper, two features on 3 Counties RAdio), and lo and behold! the CSA took another look and realized they were wrong. So they’ve just written to Dave to say there will be no threat to his home now. He sent me a gorgeous bunch of roses. Thank you Dave.
• I attended a fabulous Hindu service, crowded hall, wonderful music, delicious food, and best of all, families celebrating happily together. A real community, and so welcoming. Really moving and impressive, I was so grateful for the invitation. But they told me they desperately need a hall of their own, they can only hold their services at the moment thanks to the Catholic community renting them their hall. It’s so rare to see such religious and cultural commitment, come on Luton Council, find somewhere for them!
• Many school visits, three or four a week, touring classrooms, meeting staff and children and speaking at assemblies. Two results for me, firstly, I could discover the issues facing schools and families in Luton. Secondly, I could spread the message that ChildLine 0800 1111 is free, confidential, for any child with any problem. I didn’t expect to see such contrasts. In some schools, teachers are struggling valiantly with an appalling lack of resources. (One head teacher pointed out the insanity of insisting that all schools have two family workers, even when some don’t need them, and others need a minimum of six). Even in the schools where it was clear the children are being very successfully educated, head teachers told me it’s difficult to attract teachers to Luton. (I’m still mystified by this perceived stigma, I love Luton!). After weeks of school visits, I am struck yet again by the crucial factor in determining children’s future, which is not glamorous school buildings, not money, but motivated loving parents. It’s when children don’t have those role models that we depend on schools to provide them. It’s so crucial for children, especially the ones growing up in violent unloving backgrounds, if we don’t improve schools and pastoral care, how else can we break the cycle of neglect and abuse?
• A new, very difficult problem brought to me in my “surgery” in the Indoor Market, a story of abuse, and incompetent child protection. Unravelling the reasons and the solution will take time and sensitivity, so as not to hurt the child at the centre. Alas, one mistake has had terrible consequences.
• Age Concern visit, very impressed by the services they offer, a brilliant use of dedicated volunteers running their friendship helpline, and other innovative services, like life-coaching for the newly bereaved, a supply of home helps, and reliable handy-men. Having met the staff I now hope to meet some of the members of their lunch-time group.
• Heartening visit to Hibbert Street Alms Houses, where Mick told me fabulous tale of the local publican who looked after her when she had a hip operation, and clearly deserves a Heart of Gold Award, mind you, so does she for treating her neighbours to a terrific Christmas lunch in the Cross Keys. Christmas is the time for children, but lovely to see old people enjoying themselves, and being so generous with so little. Isn’t that always the way!
• This weekend, acting as the presenter of a carol concert in High Town was the high spot of my Christmas so far. Pasque Harmony (ladies in fabulous blue sparkly dresses) were giving a concert with the Priory Choir from Dunstable (angelic in long red gowns) in aid of the Keech Hospice. The Methodist Church in High Town was full, the congregation sang lustily and tunefully, and nobody minded at all they were missing the semi-finals of Strictly and X Factor. Pasque Harmony presented a cheque for £20,000 to Keech, brilliant! Having opened the new unit at Keech, met their staff and patients and their families, I know how precious and valuable that donation is. Most people, I think, don’t realize that nearly all hospices depend entirely on donations to keep going.
• Tonight I’ll continue with my Luton Christmas, celebrating the Christmas Tree Festival in Caddington, and then accepting a cheque on behalf of Marie Curie from the Vauxhall Recreation Club. A perfect way to prepare for the ordeal of next week’s shopping and card sending, which I must get down to, my kitchen table is strewn with unaddressed envelopes and tinsel wrapping.
• What pizza did Good King Wenceslas order? The usual, deep pan, crisp and even. Just thought you’d like to know.
Sunday 1 November 2009
A momentous two weeks
A MOMENTOUS TWO WEEKS
Monday October 19th we launched our new advice centre, a snug little office in Units 74/76 in the Indoor Market in Market Hall in the centre of Luton. A very bright way to start a Monday morning, it’s decorated in a vivid but tasteful combination of orange and purple, “Purple for passion, orange for Luton” I told the man with a microphone when he asked why those colours. And it’s how I feel. Passionate about Luton. I find that difficult to explain, but then passion is always hard to pin down. I genuinely love that gallant, underestimated, tough, warm town. Every time I start driving the half hour up the M1 I feel excitement and anticipation. And certainly I felt that when I cut the purple ribbon and opened the doors of my new office.
The walls, ceiling and doors have been beautifully fitted and painted, and the windows fitted by well-wishers who work in the market. It’s cosy because I’ve furnished it with sofa and chairs from my medical student son’s room, (I’ll ask his permission later). The sofa has been well used already. There’s been a steady stream of Lutonians with concerns and problems they want me to know about, and help them with. Difficulties with schools. A dangerous road where a child was almost killed. No parking for residents. Worrying development plans. No jobs for an older worker. What to do about parents with dementia. And a dad being persecuted by the Child Support Agency. ( I know the devastating effect the CSA has achieved in the past, so I went with the dad to the County Court last week, a harrowing experience for him, no matter how much the staff and the judge try to keep it human and friendly.) Some of the issues clearly deserve a wider audience, so I begin to plan with the team ways of alerting the local media.
Several of my visitors tell me quite frankly that they have come to try and discover what I stand for, and if I can really make a difference. The word “trust” comes up over and over again. That is what the MP’s have sacrificed. A treasure beyond price, the basis of our democracy. And yet some MP’s still, in the phrase our papers love, “don’t get it.”
Right on cue a friend rings. “Did you know the anagram of your name, Esther Louise Rantzen, is “Trust, not sleaze, in here”? Obviously destiny was hovering around me at my christening. Luton was calling even then.
Between my surgeries, (I haven’t yet mentioned to my medical student son that I’m holding surgeries, too) I’ve made some significant visits. To Bedfordshire University, to meet the visionary Vice Chancellor Professor Les Ebdon. He has great plans to extend and improve the campus, and we explore the idea of my chairing some debates on general issues of special interest to Lutonians, housing and the green belt, diversity, employment in the future, democracy, and so on. I also ask if I can meet the social work students. I am struck by the vitality of the place, with its coffee bar at the entrance so the students immediately join a community, rather than the straggling anonymity of many traditional university buildings.
Then to the Keech Hospice for local terminally ill adults and children, again, paradoxically, a happy place, filled with dedicated staff who use all their skills to make precious last days as comfortable as possible. I know from my own experience, and from making the tv programme, “How to have a Good Death”, how important those last memories are. I am to open a new development in the hospice, to present a Christmas concert, and this Saturday to attend a special fund-raising concert organized by the Pasque Harmony Choir in the Grove Theatre, Dunstable.
Lunch with Martin Bell, ex independent MP, this week is useful and thought-provoking. I tell him I am thinking of asking for donations to cover the cost of the campaign from anyone who believes that an independent candidate would be a worthwhile investment in the next Parliament, but nothing over £50. He tells me that Obama was mainly funded by small donations. The comparison is intimidating, but reassuring. So I have begun to negotiate with Paypal, to set up a non-profit account, any funds left over to go to ChildLine. Martin says, “You don’t need a policy, you know, because you will not be in government. What you need is a set of principles. Your job will be to ask the difficult questions, to be the grit in the oyster. If we had had a group of independent MP’s in Parliament, we would never have gone to war in Iraq.”
My principles are, of course, to put Luton at the top of my agenda, and to fight Luton’s corner nationally. And when it comes to tough decisions at home or abroad, to apply the principle of informed choice to every issue, (if we had all the information, we would surely not have invaded Iraq), And always to be transparent, honest, and to work as hard as I can for the vulnerable, children, the elderly and disabled people. But as I may have to answer tough questions as well as ask them in the next few months, I begin mentally to practice. Not to be slick and over-political, but just to get my point over in the required 15 seconds, to satisfy the media’s notorious attention deficiency disorder.
On Saturday, the concert in aid of the Keech hospices was inspiring and beautiful. (I envy Dunstable its comfortable theatre, seating 700. Why hasn't Luton got one?) The ladies of Pasque Harmony look good and sound just as good, and they clearly enjoyed teaming up with the magnificent Morriston Orpheus Male Voice Choir, who were as invigorating and Welsh as lava bread, and glamorous in their white tuxedos. I sat next to the Mayor of Luton, very charming, as always, and down the row from Kelvin Hopkins and his wife, the MP for Luton North, one of the outstanding “saints” who didn’t claim a penny for a second home.
After the concert, one elegant lady in the audience said “You do very well on Three Counties Radio, Esther. You certainly know how to handle Stephen.” What good news, and very heartening for the months ahead. Perhaps I have more experience of tough questions than I realized!
Monday October 19th we launched our new advice centre, a snug little office in Units 74/76 in the Indoor Market in Market Hall in the centre of Luton. A very bright way to start a Monday morning, it’s decorated in a vivid but tasteful combination of orange and purple, “Purple for passion, orange for Luton” I told the man with a microphone when he asked why those colours. And it’s how I feel. Passionate about Luton. I find that difficult to explain, but then passion is always hard to pin down. I genuinely love that gallant, underestimated, tough, warm town. Every time I start driving the half hour up the M1 I feel excitement and anticipation. And certainly I felt that when I cut the purple ribbon and opened the doors of my new office.
The walls, ceiling and doors have been beautifully fitted and painted, and the windows fitted by well-wishers who work in the market. It’s cosy because I’ve furnished it with sofa and chairs from my medical student son’s room, (I’ll ask his permission later). The sofa has been well used already. There’s been a steady stream of Lutonians with concerns and problems they want me to know about, and help them with. Difficulties with schools. A dangerous road where a child was almost killed. No parking for residents. Worrying development plans. No jobs for an older worker. What to do about parents with dementia. And a dad being persecuted by the Child Support Agency. ( I know the devastating effect the CSA has achieved in the past, so I went with the dad to the County Court last week, a harrowing experience for him, no matter how much the staff and the judge try to keep it human and friendly.) Some of the issues clearly deserve a wider audience, so I begin to plan with the team ways of alerting the local media.
Several of my visitors tell me quite frankly that they have come to try and discover what I stand for, and if I can really make a difference. The word “trust” comes up over and over again. That is what the MP’s have sacrificed. A treasure beyond price, the basis of our democracy. And yet some MP’s still, in the phrase our papers love, “don’t get it.”
Right on cue a friend rings. “Did you know the anagram of your name, Esther Louise Rantzen, is “Trust, not sleaze, in here”? Obviously destiny was hovering around me at my christening. Luton was calling even then.
Between my surgeries, (I haven’t yet mentioned to my medical student son that I’m holding surgeries, too) I’ve made some significant visits. To Bedfordshire University, to meet the visionary Vice Chancellor Professor Les Ebdon. He has great plans to extend and improve the campus, and we explore the idea of my chairing some debates on general issues of special interest to Lutonians, housing and the green belt, diversity, employment in the future, democracy, and so on. I also ask if I can meet the social work students. I am struck by the vitality of the place, with its coffee bar at the entrance so the students immediately join a community, rather than the straggling anonymity of many traditional university buildings.
Then to the Keech Hospice for local terminally ill adults and children, again, paradoxically, a happy place, filled with dedicated staff who use all their skills to make precious last days as comfortable as possible. I know from my own experience, and from making the tv programme, “How to have a Good Death”, how important those last memories are. I am to open a new development in the hospice, to present a Christmas concert, and this Saturday to attend a special fund-raising concert organized by the Pasque Harmony Choir in the Grove Theatre, Dunstable.
Lunch with Martin Bell, ex independent MP, this week is useful and thought-provoking. I tell him I am thinking of asking for donations to cover the cost of the campaign from anyone who believes that an independent candidate would be a worthwhile investment in the next Parliament, but nothing over £50. He tells me that Obama was mainly funded by small donations. The comparison is intimidating, but reassuring. So I have begun to negotiate with Paypal, to set up a non-profit account, any funds left over to go to ChildLine. Martin says, “You don’t need a policy, you know, because you will not be in government. What you need is a set of principles. Your job will be to ask the difficult questions, to be the grit in the oyster. If we had had a group of independent MP’s in Parliament, we would never have gone to war in Iraq.”
My principles are, of course, to put Luton at the top of my agenda, and to fight Luton’s corner nationally. And when it comes to tough decisions at home or abroad, to apply the principle of informed choice to every issue, (if we had all the information, we would surely not have invaded Iraq), And always to be transparent, honest, and to work as hard as I can for the vulnerable, children, the elderly and disabled people. But as I may have to answer tough questions as well as ask them in the next few months, I begin mentally to practice. Not to be slick and over-political, but just to get my point over in the required 15 seconds, to satisfy the media’s notorious attention deficiency disorder.
On Saturday, the concert in aid of the Keech hospices was inspiring and beautiful. (I envy Dunstable its comfortable theatre, seating 700. Why hasn't Luton got one?) The ladies of Pasque Harmony look good and sound just as good, and they clearly enjoyed teaming up with the magnificent Morriston Orpheus Male Voice Choir, who were as invigorating and Welsh as lava bread, and glamorous in their white tuxedos. I sat next to the Mayor of Luton, very charming, as always, and down the row from Kelvin Hopkins and his wife, the MP for Luton North, one of the outstanding “saints” who didn’t claim a penny for a second home.
After the concert, one elegant lady in the audience said “You do very well on Three Counties Radio, Esther. You certainly know how to handle Stephen.” What good news, and very heartening for the months ahead. Perhaps I have more experience of tough questions than I realized!
Sunday 18 October 2009
more friendly (and otherwise!) encounters in Luton South
Sunday night.
A busy day on Thursday, visiting Easyjet, (very impressive), and Moorlands School, (adorable pupils who have invented a worry table for pupils with concerns they want to share, a great idea), and Jenny Moody's Women's Aid Refuge, (tragic that such a project needs to exist). On Friday I spent the morning at the Mind AGM, discussing the stigma still attached to mental illness. And then last night I joined the celebrations for Diwali, the Hindu and Sikh Festival of Light, in the Auction House. I had a dilemma, what to wear? I couldn't find anything festive enough in my wardrobe, so in the end I decided on boring black and white, a mistake because when I got there I found myself surrounded by ladies and little girls wearing the most beautiful silk saris in brilliant colours, red, gold, green, purple. I was a sad e moth in a crowd of butterflies. And what a wonderful atmosphere! Lovely children everywhere, the most delicious food, glamorous dancers who would put the Strictly team to shame, and all raising money for a very good cause, the Marie Curie charity who support cancer patients and their families.
I was given a seat at a most distinguished table, with at least three former mayors, and the current mayor of Luton, and acutally sitting next to Lord (Bill) Mackenzie, once the Leader of Luton council. Lord M was clearly conflicted, he's a charming man who wanted to welcome me to Luton but couldn't endorse my intervention because, of course, I am from a different, (Independent), tribe. The same conflict was dealt with rather more rudely by one of the ex-mayors, who when I asked what the essential qualifications are for a good mayor said, pointedly, "Local. He must be local". "Rather than competent?" I asked, equally pointedly. But it was too pleasant an evening to be combatative. If I'd had my wits about me I would have pointed out that I only live down the road, was born a Berko, and love Luton. But the gorgeous hot spicy food which was exploding like fireworks in my mouth distracted me, and I thought of it too late.
Tomorrow is a big day! At 11 am we open our new advice and information centre in the Indoor Market, Luton. (You can write to me at Unit 74/76, or come and see me there by appointment. I will even have a phone there, 01582 418874.) This is entirely due to the help and support from the market itself, the wonderful David Gibbs and his team from Town and Country Markets, and Jodie of Slamsigns. Also the fantastic support from Tim, Clive and Richard who know the constituency so well, and are educating and guiding me. What a team! Their welcome more than compensates for the brusqueness of the ex-mayor.
The website, esther4luton.com is coming along. I am briefly outlining on it the basic principles by which I will work, with transparency and integrity being the priority. We will be developing the site, and making it interactive, as the weeks go by. Coincidentally, ChildLine tomorrow launches its on-line counselling service for the first time, a huge adventure for all of us who want children in distress or danger to reach the help they need.
So, if you see me around the constituency, (and at the moment I am in Luton South almost every day), give me a wave. Luton is the warmest,most generous, most underestimated town I know!
A busy day on Thursday, visiting Easyjet, (very impressive), and Moorlands School, (adorable pupils who have invented a worry table for pupils with concerns they want to share, a great idea), and Jenny Moody's Women's Aid Refuge, (tragic that such a project needs to exist). On Friday I spent the morning at the Mind AGM, discussing the stigma still attached to mental illness. And then last night I joined the celebrations for Diwali, the Hindu and Sikh Festival of Light, in the Auction House. I had a dilemma, what to wear? I couldn't find anything festive enough in my wardrobe, so in the end I decided on boring black and white, a mistake because when I got there I found myself surrounded by ladies and little girls wearing the most beautiful silk saris in brilliant colours, red, gold, green, purple. I was a sad e moth in a crowd of butterflies. And what a wonderful atmosphere! Lovely children everywhere, the most delicious food, glamorous dancers who would put the Strictly team to shame, and all raising money for a very good cause, the Marie Curie charity who support cancer patients and their families.
I was given a seat at a most distinguished table, with at least three former mayors, and the current mayor of Luton, and acutally sitting next to Lord (Bill) Mackenzie, once the Leader of Luton council. Lord M was clearly conflicted, he's a charming man who wanted to welcome me to Luton but couldn't endorse my intervention because, of course, I am from a different, (Independent), tribe. The same conflict was dealt with rather more rudely by one of the ex-mayors, who when I asked what the essential qualifications are for a good mayor said, pointedly, "Local. He must be local". "Rather than competent?" I asked, equally pointedly. But it was too pleasant an evening to be combatative. If I'd had my wits about me I would have pointed out that I only live down the road, was born a Berko, and love Luton. But the gorgeous hot spicy food which was exploding like fireworks in my mouth distracted me, and I thought of it too late.
Tomorrow is a big day! At 11 am we open our new advice and information centre in the Indoor Market, Luton. (You can write to me at Unit 74/76, or come and see me there by appointment. I will even have a phone there, 01582 418874.) This is entirely due to the help and support from the market itself, the wonderful David Gibbs and his team from Town and Country Markets, and Jodie of Slamsigns. Also the fantastic support from Tim, Clive and Richard who know the constituency so well, and are educating and guiding me. What a team! Their welcome more than compensates for the brusqueness of the ex-mayor.
The website, esther4luton.com is coming along. I am briefly outlining on it the basic principles by which I will work, with transparency and integrity being the priority. We will be developing the site, and making it interactive, as the weeks go by. Coincidentally, ChildLine tomorrow launches its on-line counselling service for the first time, a huge adventure for all of us who want children in distress or danger to reach the help they need.
So, if you see me around the constituency, (and at the moment I am in Luton South almost every day), give me a wave. Luton is the warmest,most generous, most underestimated town I know!
Tuesday 13 October 2009
A bruising encounter in Slip End
The last meeting, the evening in Caddington School, alarmed me. Not because the protest meeting was so passionate - that's good. It's heartening that so many people feel deeply involved in the future of their village, and that they want to influence decisions. But because I was unconvinced that they were being told all the facts. Local politician Richard Stay is eloquent, almost too eloquent. He knows the result he wishes to achieve, and the words he uses are designed to stir up strong feelings, for instance, anyone who might dare to agree with the proposed development was described as "rolling over." Anyone who disagrees with Mr Stay is described as "bonkers". When someone says something he disapproves of, he grimaces, rolls his eyes and shakes his head. An email I received from someone who was present described the atmosphere as "rabble rousing." The Caddingtonites were not of course rabble, but they were certainly roused.
I had said at the meeting that I was sorry the developers themselves were not there, to answer questions. After the meeting one of them got in touch with me, and I went to try and find out more. Looking at the actual plans in detail was very interesting. Mr Stay had said the plan was to "concrete over" eight hundred acres. It turns out that at least half that area would remain green, devoted to woodland, fields, and allotments. There would be a great deal of provision for disabled people and the elderly, there would be a health centre and the famous twenty thousand seater all-weather stadium, and quarter-mile green buffer zones to protect Caddington and Slip End, specifically to protect their character as villages. But there would indeed be 5,500 new houses. A dramatic change to the local landscape.
A couple of days later, last Friday, I went to the second protest meeting in Slip End, to see if the developers would be there this time. (I had a delicious fish-cake beforehand in the Frog and Rhubarb, thoroughly recommended. Good thing, as it turned out). The village hall was hot and packed to capacity. Mr Stay was on the platform again, flanked by parish councillors from Slip End and Caddington who remained fairly silent while Mr Stay paced the stage like a Roman warrior defending the troops in a heroic siege. This time he described the green buffer zones around the villages as "hedges", and declared that he was utterly opposed to the plans "on principle."
When my turn to speak came, I said what about the principle of informed choice? Were they sure they had been given all the information they needed? Would they like me to chair a debate between those who propose the development, and those who oppose it, so that everyone could hear the arguments both ways, and ask questions? Mr Stay was rolling his eyes. He was still in warrior mood. He declared he could see no reason for any more information, he promised the villagers a vigorous fight, an expensive fight, and one that would make "a lot of noise." He is obviously looking forward to the battle, and relished the idea. And in a final vote, the meeting agreed with him.
I retired to the Frog and Rhubarb to think things through. Obviously I would have preferred the villagers to have the opportunity to discuss their concerns directly with the developers. They might even persuade the developer to withdraw the plans, which would save the villagers a lot of money, and Mr Stay a lot of pacing and eye-rolling.
Personally I love the green belts we have preserved around our towns and cities, including the one around Luton. Like everyone there, I would far prefer good housing should be placed on brown field sites. I also know that Luton is gasping for more space. I was given a copy of the core strategy, which will outline the choices. Plenty to think about.
For me, the bad news was the amount of heat and anger aroused at the two meetings, when the villagers desperately need cool heads, logical thinking, cold hard facts and clear evidence on their side. The good news was that I had a chance to meet the Caddingtonites and Slip Enders. I'd love to return for an evening just to talk to local people, to hear their views on a range of other local issues, if they'll have me. Whatever they tell me, I promise not to call them bonkers.
I had said at the meeting that I was sorry the developers themselves were not there, to answer questions. After the meeting one of them got in touch with me, and I went to try and find out more. Looking at the actual plans in detail was very interesting. Mr Stay had said the plan was to "concrete over" eight hundred acres. It turns out that at least half that area would remain green, devoted to woodland, fields, and allotments. There would be a great deal of provision for disabled people and the elderly, there would be a health centre and the famous twenty thousand seater all-weather stadium, and quarter-mile green buffer zones to protect Caddington and Slip End, specifically to protect their character as villages. But there would indeed be 5,500 new houses. A dramatic change to the local landscape.
A couple of days later, last Friday, I went to the second protest meeting in Slip End, to see if the developers would be there this time. (I had a delicious fish-cake beforehand in the Frog and Rhubarb, thoroughly recommended. Good thing, as it turned out). The village hall was hot and packed to capacity. Mr Stay was on the platform again, flanked by parish councillors from Slip End and Caddington who remained fairly silent while Mr Stay paced the stage like a Roman warrior defending the troops in a heroic siege. This time he described the green buffer zones around the villages as "hedges", and declared that he was utterly opposed to the plans "on principle."
When my turn to speak came, I said what about the principle of informed choice? Were they sure they had been given all the information they needed? Would they like me to chair a debate between those who propose the development, and those who oppose it, so that everyone could hear the arguments both ways, and ask questions? Mr Stay was rolling his eyes. He was still in warrior mood. He declared he could see no reason for any more information, he promised the villagers a vigorous fight, an expensive fight, and one that would make "a lot of noise." He is obviously looking forward to the battle, and relished the idea. And in a final vote, the meeting agreed with him.
I retired to the Frog and Rhubarb to think things through. Obviously I would have preferred the villagers to have the opportunity to discuss their concerns directly with the developers. They might even persuade the developer to withdraw the plans, which would save the villagers a lot of money, and Mr Stay a lot of pacing and eye-rolling.
Personally I love the green belts we have preserved around our towns and cities, including the one around Luton. Like everyone there, I would far prefer good housing should be placed on brown field sites. I also know that Luton is gasping for more space. I was given a copy of the core strategy, which will outline the choices. Plenty to think about.
For me, the bad news was the amount of heat and anger aroused at the two meetings, when the villagers desperately need cool heads, logical thinking, cold hard facts and clear evidence on their side. The good news was that I had a chance to meet the Caddingtonites and Slip Enders. I'd love to return for an evening just to talk to local people, to hear their views on a range of other local issues, if they'll have me. Whatever they tell me, I promise not to call them bonkers.
Friday 2 October 2009
Caddington Village School
October 2 2009
The Caddington Village School was packed with concerned villagers, desperately worried about plans for a major new development on 800 acres of green fields. Anyone who thinks voters are apathetic and no longer care about politics, should see the concern and commitment of people who feel their homes and the environment they love are threatened by planners. As a journalist myself, I became anxious because it was clear that nobody was there at the meeting to offer a different point of view. We needed to know how far the attractions of the new plans, (allotments, green spaces, a new stadium, more jobs, a new high street and so on) were simply “unaffordable bells and whistles” as Richard Stay (Conservative Councillor) described them. He was very much in charge of the meeting and vehemently against the development. I have always believed in informed choice. As I said at the meeting, it is better to hear the arguments on both sides. This not only helps us to come to an objective decision but also enables us to hear the other side’s arguments and muster our own ammunition against them. Sadly the meeting at Caddington was entirely devoid of any contribution from those who support the new development. Richard accused me of not having voted for or against the plans. With so little hard information and with emotions running so high, I have decided to do some research of my own.
My greatest shock was to see that not only was the MP missing, (as she is off sick, that is hardly surprising and indeed nobody seemed to have expected her to attend) but Luton’s Labour Party had not sent any representative either. It is utterly wrong that Luton South should have no voice in government or parliament on a crucial issue like this.
I was delighted by the warmth of my welcome at the meeting – it must be very tough to feel outgunned and outnumbered when a community is so comparatively small but let no one underestimate the strength and fervour of Caddington village feelings. I look forward to attending the meeting at Slip End on October 9. I hope there will be some representatives from the developers and Luton’s Labour Party there. Otherwise there is a real risk that passions can be whipped up by politicians with their own agenda.
The Caddington Village School was packed with concerned villagers, desperately worried about plans for a major new development on 800 acres of green fields. Anyone who thinks voters are apathetic and no longer care about politics, should see the concern and commitment of people who feel their homes and the environment they love are threatened by planners. As a journalist myself, I became anxious because it was clear that nobody was there at the meeting to offer a different point of view. We needed to know how far the attractions of the new plans, (allotments, green spaces, a new stadium, more jobs, a new high street and so on) were simply “unaffordable bells and whistles” as Richard Stay (Conservative Councillor) described them. He was very much in charge of the meeting and vehemently against the development. I have always believed in informed choice. As I said at the meeting, it is better to hear the arguments on both sides. This not only helps us to come to an objective decision but also enables us to hear the other side’s arguments and muster our own ammunition against them. Sadly the meeting at Caddington was entirely devoid of any contribution from those who support the new development. Richard accused me of not having voted for or against the plans. With so little hard information and with emotions running so high, I have decided to do some research of my own.
My greatest shock was to see that not only was the MP missing, (as she is off sick, that is hardly surprising and indeed nobody seemed to have expected her to attend) but Luton’s Labour Party had not sent any representative either. It is utterly wrong that Luton South should have no voice in government or parliament on a crucial issue like this.
I was delighted by the warmth of my welcome at the meeting – it must be very tough to feel outgunned and outnumbered when a community is so comparatively small but let no one underestimate the strength and fervour of Caddington village feelings. I look forward to attending the meeting at Slip End on October 9. I hope there will be some representatives from the developers and Luton’s Labour Party there. Otherwise there is a real risk that passions can be whipped up by politicians with their own agenda.
Monday 28 September 2009
September 28th
Now that I have recovered from my daughter Rebecca's wedding, (which rolled in and out of our lives like a gorgeous tank, crushing and obliterating every other thought in our heads), I can return to Luton with a clear brain. I still have one bunch of hydrangeas in my home to remind me of that fabulous autumn day, but alas the roses from the bouquets have crumpled and fallen. Memories of the lovely ceremony flash in and out of my mind unexpectedly, I don't want them to fade, but I know that, like those roses, they surely will.
Luckily Luton fills the vaccuum left by that all-consuming family event, and continues to entrance. Last Saturday was fascinating. I flew back from a ChildLine fund-raising event in Edinburgh, so I missed the morning, but even so, the first International Food Festival in St George's Square was a feast of spices, breads, sauces, dozens of different ways to cook chicken, and little cakes, Polish, Caribbean, African, and everyone sat in the afternoon sunshine filling their faces and watching the dancersl. Arlene, Craig, Len, Bruno and Alesha would have loved them. Not that I've ever seen the Strictly dancers fill their faces with food, those costumes would cling to any extra ounce. Eeven the men wear lycra that hugs them mercilessly, I wonder they can walk, let alone rumba.
I wasn't watching Strictly last Saturday evening, addict though I am. I was presenting prizes to the winners of the tennis tournament in the Vauxhall Recreation Club, held in aid of the Marie Curie charity. Such a wonderful cause, working as it does to ensure cancer patients have a quality of life and a freedom from pain. The club is a precious resource for Lutonians, with indoor and outdoor courts so that maybe, one day, a Lutonian will win Wimbledon. Why not? Marilyn Murray, one of the coaches, is a bundle of talent. She took up tennis when her injured knees meant that she had to give up netball at the age of forty - so it goes to show, doesn't it, that not only can an old dog (sorry, Marilyn, I don't mean you) learn new tricks, but she can excell! Her family have promised to show me Luton after dark - I can't wait.
On Monday I was in the Leaside Hotel meeting some trusted supporters and planning our future together. They were talking about their hopes and fears for the town. Our discussion led us into difficult territory. Luton is a microcosm of the whole country, with the problems that beset the whole of Britain. If we can find solutions, that would be hopeful for everyone. After having spent happy hours enjoying the diversity of Luton, which must be one of its great strengths, it's so sad that a football match had to be cancelled, for fear of violence. I need to know more. Who is instigating the violence? Why? It's always self-defeating.
I'm returning to Luton almost every day this week. Not everyone knows that. Stephen, the 3 Counties breakfast shock jock rebuked me a couple of mornings ago, "You're not here, Esther!". Yes I am Stephen. And what's more soon I'll have an office in the indoor market, so you can come and take coffee with me there, and, as Michael Winner says, Calm down dear!
Now that I have recovered from my daughter Rebecca's wedding, (which rolled in and out of our lives like a gorgeous tank, crushing and obliterating every other thought in our heads), I can return to Luton with a clear brain. I still have one bunch of hydrangeas in my home to remind me of that fabulous autumn day, but alas the roses from the bouquets have crumpled and fallen. Memories of the lovely ceremony flash in and out of my mind unexpectedly, I don't want them to fade, but I know that, like those roses, they surely will.
Luckily Luton fills the vaccuum left by that all-consuming family event, and continues to entrance. Last Saturday was fascinating. I flew back from a ChildLine fund-raising event in Edinburgh, so I missed the morning, but even so, the first International Food Festival in St George's Square was a feast of spices, breads, sauces, dozens of different ways to cook chicken, and little cakes, Polish, Caribbean, African, and everyone sat in the afternoon sunshine filling their faces and watching the dancersl. Arlene, Craig, Len, Bruno and Alesha would have loved them. Not that I've ever seen the Strictly dancers fill their faces with food, those costumes would cling to any extra ounce. Eeven the men wear lycra that hugs them mercilessly, I wonder they can walk, let alone rumba.
I wasn't watching Strictly last Saturday evening, addict though I am. I was presenting prizes to the winners of the tennis tournament in the Vauxhall Recreation Club, held in aid of the Marie Curie charity. Such a wonderful cause, working as it does to ensure cancer patients have a quality of life and a freedom from pain. The club is a precious resource for Lutonians, with indoor and outdoor courts so that maybe, one day, a Lutonian will win Wimbledon. Why not? Marilyn Murray, one of the coaches, is a bundle of talent. She took up tennis when her injured knees meant that she had to give up netball at the age of forty - so it goes to show, doesn't it, that not only can an old dog (sorry, Marilyn, I don't mean you) learn new tricks, but she can excell! Her family have promised to show me Luton after dark - I can't wait.
On Monday I was in the Leaside Hotel meeting some trusted supporters and planning our future together. They were talking about their hopes and fears for the town. Our discussion led us into difficult territory. Luton is a microcosm of the whole country, with the problems that beset the whole of Britain. If we can find solutions, that would be hopeful for everyone. After having spent happy hours enjoying the diversity of Luton, which must be one of its great strengths, it's so sad that a football match had to be cancelled, for fear of violence. I need to know more. Who is instigating the violence? Why? It's always self-defeating.
I'm returning to Luton almost every day this week. Not everyone knows that. Stephen, the 3 Counties breakfast shock jock rebuked me a couple of mornings ago, "You're not here, Esther!". Yes I am Stephen. And what's more soon I'll have an office in the indoor market, so you can come and take coffee with me there, and, as Michael Winner says, Calm down dear!
Wednesday 19 August 2009
August 18th 2009 - around Luton South in an afternoon
August 18th 2009 -
E
Opening
Each visit had taught me more, but in my he
Wh
Would the show-business connections make me altogether suspect?
Plunging b
Unlike Florence I s
I wondered where they manufactured the houses in
Driving past the University and on through the student areas, we passed Mr Moon's the newsagent's shop. Standing by the door I recognized Mrs Patel, whose husband Jashbhai, one of the town's most popular figures, was brutally stabbed to death there, on a Sunday morning in June. We stopped and I ran to meet her, a steady, clever, courageous woman, determined to carry on, because as she told me her late husband had so much faith in her. I saw her grandchildren with their huge lustrous dark eyes taking in her grief, but not understanding it. I took her hand. So much to say to her, of admiration, and sorrow, but I couldn't find adequate words. She needs help to fit out the shop, I'm sure Luton will rush to support her.
The tour was almost at an end. We circled, as everyone does, there is no escape from it, the notorious concrete car park, which has become a desparing symbol of the mistakes in the past, now condemned, an eye-sore. My guide explained that The H
My guide admitted that although she loves Luton, when she w
We finished the tour with strong cups of te
So what kind of patchwork did my kind guide piece together for me? She showed me a whole new pattern, with bright colours, vastly different textures, exciting, warm. Yes, there is tragedy here, and hardship. But so much vitality, and endurance, and potential. I can't wait for my next visit.
Sunday 16 August 2009
a concert dedicated to love, miracle babies and a happy ending
August 16th -
The perfect Sund
I p
He l
I c
Person
Ch
On the w
Frid
Also on Frid
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
