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Going to college in Southampton after Brixton was a real wake up. There are loads of stories about Southampton but most weekends I seemed to be back in London and traveling down on the coach every Monday Morning. I even went back there, after I got chucked out. I guess this would see me walking down the street past the hospital, eating a raw onion.

This bit is about is about leaving Brixton and going off to a Uni run by the only (at that time) female black NUS President in the country and my adventures – before getting chucked out.

Running a Community Centre

Having gone along on the off-chance and ended up as Secretary, a couple of weeks in,  as far as the regulars were concerned, the novelty  was wearing off. I was being, dare I say it, resented.

Nevertheless, I thought if I expostulated comprehensively and in much detail on what was necessary they would think the better of me and take me into their fold.

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When it came, the torrent of abuse was lethal in a true South London ‘f-ing and blinding’ way. Luckily there is a documentary about my time at the community centre called Phoenix Nights.

Radical

Running a community centre (even in your spare time, as I once did) you occasionally get funny calls out of the blue. So perhaps it should be no surprise that the anti-terrorism cops give a knock and asked if a “radical” group have tried to book a Saturday at our place.

Saturday nights used to be (generally) our Portuguese night – which they take dead seriously in a Portuguese beer and Portuguese custard tart sort of way. (The definition of An Argument is an empty room with someone Portuguese in it – you’ve never met a group of people more disputationous – love ‘em though I do). In our illustrious history the one group that has always been there, if constantly falling out with itself, has been the Portuguese. I don’t care how ‘radical’ you are, you really wouldn’t want to mess with a Portuguese event.

So where was it likely to be? I suggested a couple of places but guessed it probably be at the old school – which in fact it turned out to be.

I always wished I’d gone (I was double-booked) and said: You must be doing something right if the cops are ringing me up and asking me Where you’re going to be. I do Community and I know this community really well. You speak very well (if they did). For all your words, and I’m sure they are very fine words, you have absolutely no traction in the local community. People here want a quiet life. Maybe succeed at something and taking the kudos but that’s about it.

When we go out for a bevvy we plant our daughter with our Muslim neighbours. We wouldn’t do something like that if we didn’t trust them implicitly. And we’d do the same if they were Jewish or of no faith. It’s whether they are good people or not, not what religion (or not) they are into.