Since Covid has made Staycations a necessity for most of us, why not visit Barrow-in-Furness. We have a unique cultural, historical, archaeological and ecological heritage. But you don’t want to know about that. What is the real Barrow like? Join me for a tour of the SEVEN WONDERS OF BARROW-IN-FURNESS!
The greatest wonder of Barrow-in-Furness is the people. Hammered by years of levelling down, and an easy target for the poverty porn reporting that passes for journalism in much of the press, Barrovians are a proud and friendly people. I love living here.
Of course, we have problems. A change in government defence policy in the 1990s saw 10,000 lose their jobs. Moreover, their children missed out on training and apprenticeships. Large areas of the town are still scarred by this act of economic sabotage. And when the policy changed and the money came back, a skill shortage in the town meant that Boom Town Barrow benefited outside contractors and local landlords with property to convert.
But there is hope in a town that welcomes refugees and saw off Tommy Robinson’s attempt to exploit our problems to support his racist agenda.
And in recent weeks I have stood on RMT and CWU picket lines, a reminder of the strong tradition of trade union organisation that will do more for levelling up than any government promises. Community and solidarity will see us through. Alongside our natural assets – the coast, the nature reserves, the Lakeland views and the local industrial heritage – that spirit is the real beauty of Barrow-in-Furness.
When the S*n did a hatchet job on our town it trashed our young people with claims of feral gangs and people afraid to use our public park. I visit the park nearly every day to walk my dog. Yesterday was no different. There were groups of young people doing terrible things like showing off to impress the girls or sitting in circles engaged in earnest conversation. Some were cycling, skateboarding, playing football. One ‘gang’ were feeding the ducks, others were fishing. Then a group approached a woman on her own … they adored the puppy she was walking and asked if they could pet it.
What got me most about the newspaper story was that it was blind to the complicity of the Murdoch press in fostering the political and economic dogmas that have blighted our urban landscapes, while it fervently abuses and undermines any attempt at resistance. I responded with this poem.
A tabloid trashed our town in a series on Broke Britain. We have been levelled down by years of miss and hitting. The paper has a name, in Liverpool unspoken, and it deserves some blame because we have been broken Winds rattle empty streets while many shops are boarded, No longer thronged by busy feet, their goods are unafforded. But all is not despair. The picket line's returning. Resistance is still there, fed by anger burning. The people may be broke. Our spirit is unbroken. And casting off despairing cloak, let freedom's cry be spoken.