I don’t get out much. Nobody does these days. So, I jumped at the opportunity to take my daughter back from Hull to Manchester to resume her university course. That was part of the excuse. Collecting our daughter before the Easter break my wife had the misfortune to have another car run into ours which, while still driveable is necessitating several thousand pounds worth of repair. The upside is we have a brand-new state of the art car to use for a few weeks and I am making the best of it. With a setting called ‘Pilot assist’ this thing, literally, drives itself. It slows down to a stop to accommodate the speed of cars in front and maintains its place in the lane on the motorway, including turning corners, all without the need to do anything. You simply keep a loose grip of the steering wheel to remind it you are still there. But, back to the point.
Hull is a very White city, but becoming less so, with a very small population from non-White British ethnic groups. These mainly law-abiding abiding groups, especially the South Asians, are a bonus to the city. I have paid tribute previously to the local Indian and continental stores which was almost the only place early in the pandemic where you could shop without being barked at for not obeying a one-way system and they remained fully stocked throughout. A local newsagent run by a South Asian family likewise provided service with a smile, even in the toughest times. As a mark of local gratitude, while I was picking up the Sunday newspapers one morning, a local restaurateur arrived laden with bags of hot food, for the shopkeeper and his family. The man was completely overwhelmed and tearful. My route out of the city takes me along a main road with many food shops and only one of these, a chain, is UK-owned. The remainder are owned by people from a wide range of ethnic groups, and everyone seems happy with this. The residents of Hull are aware that the alternative would be a street of derelict shops; indeed, many of them were derelict when I arrived in Hull 22 years ago. The street is now colourful and lively, the quality of the fruit and vegetables leaves Waitrose standing and the main thing I appreciate is that the street is safe. I walk this regularly from my house to the station in the very early morning, returning late in the evening. It used to be a bit of a no-man’s land. Now it seems to be the street that never sleeps.
A couple of hours later I arrived on the outskirts of Manchester entering past Heaton Park and through Cheetham. Unlike Hull, ethnic minority groups are more prominent. The journey took us through a predominantly Jewish area with synagogues which is close to an area with a more Arabic, South Asian and other Muslim groups as evidenced by the mosques, markets and shops. At one point I saw two young Hassidic Jewish men, obvious from their style of dress, striding confidently through a mainly Muslim area and all were rubbing shoulders (yes, literally!) with local common or garden Mancunians. There is no apparent tension, simply a lot of people trying to make a living and being allowed to get on with it. I am not saying that the changing ethnic, cultural and religious profile of the UK is without its problems. If I feel uncomfortable at times among my native Scots because I do not share their enthusiasm for independence and am considered an outsider due to my prolonged residence in England, I can imagine how it feels and gets acted out for people who may not only think differently but also look different.
I visit the USA regularly and I am always struck, for example, in cities like the capital Washington DC where, to drive through, is literally like driving across a chess board as you alternate between predominantly Black and then predominantly White areas. There is no apparent logic to this, the areas alternate in all directions away from the centre of the city. But these are, effectively, segregated areas where folk seem to keep themselves to themselves and outsiders are not especially welcome. I know, I have gone running across the city—at some points faster than others. Of course, we have areas with predominant ethnic groups in the UK. Forty years ago, I lived near Brixton and walked and cycled the length of Railton Road, focus of the infamous riots, almost daily. I never felt threatened in any way. I will undoubtedly be accused of speaking from a position of ‘White privilege’ or not looking hard enough but, racist Britain – I don’t think so.
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