Thus Spake Leicester
Thus Spake Leicester
By Kenton Hall
When I moved to Leicester, nearly a decade ago, I had little idea what to expect. This was partially to do with the fact that I moved here, more or less, accidentally. I can’t go into too much detail, but it involved a bottle of absinthe, a pair of Albino CIA agents and a secret code hidden within the poems of Pam Ayres. Or something like that, anyway. I definitely remember the absinthe.
My existence, up until that point, had been fairly rootless – never staying in one place for very long. Mind you, I’m Canadian. I come from a country where, often, if you move into the house next door, you’re talking a trek of 200 miles in a covered wagon.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that until I adopted this city as my home, I had very little experience of the kind of community represented by Leicester Speaks. In the 10 years I have lived here, however, I had built up a picture – mirrored in most cities of Leicester’s size and fighting weight – of a disparate collection of cliques orbiting each other with a hint of suspicion and a soupcon of “ne’er the twain”.
So, the events that I and others attended over the course of the week – held as part of Local Democracy Week – were a definite eye-opener. It is easy to be cynical about these kind of forced collisions – however well-intentioned. Human nature is such that we are often quite happy to remain within our own walls – whether they be built by beliefs, culture, gender or political opinion.
Also, Leicester does, occasionally, give off an impression of apathy and insecurity. This is a deeply personal impression, of course, but I have heard it echoed on more than one occasion. It has often felt, working in the artistic community for instance, more taxing than it ought to be to motivate the good people of this city to invest their hearts in local affairs or events. Much like my home country, there is a sense of constant comparison being made with more obviously famous neighbours, leading to a wearisome air of self-deprecation about the place.
Yet, as with all sweeping statements, it was proved false by the actuality.
This is largely down to – as most things of worth prove to be – the passion and drive of individuals, one force that remains constant regardless of geography. What I learned, in the broadest sense, is that there are an enormous amount of people in this city who do care, who aren’t apathetic, who realise that this is a city which has accomplished much and is capable of so much more.
With some groups – the Leicester Council of Faiths, Citizen’s Eye, the LeicestHerday Trust – the motivation lies in making this a better place to be, to live, to co-exist with each other in increased peace and harmony, whilst also addressing the specific needs of their members. Others had a more philosophical bent – dealing with big subjects like Identity and Happiness.
And, of course, as was proper and fitting for an event flying under the banner of “Leicester Speaks” there were plenty of opportunities for the entire citizenry to get involved, with Speaker’s Corner events around the city. 60 seconds were on offer for anyone to speak on the matters that concern them, whether it be a specific complaint, idea or celebration or more general concerns.
And people spoke. Leicester spoke. They spoke many different languages, with many different accents and on many different subjects. But what came out of this was not a catalogue of our differences, but an overwhelming sense of our similarities, the universal truth at the heart of our collective self. We are all just living – trying in our own ways to figure out this rickety rollercoaster ride of consciousness.
What makes Leicester truly special – and this is the overriding lesson I will take away from Leicester Speaks – is this:
There are people here.
Let’s keep them talking.
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