Day 33 Part 2 - Barton Hill

(continued from Part One)

At St Luke's Church I met up with Wendy and we sat under the porch out of the drizzle. I had spent six months in the community as an Urban Theology Project. We'd also worshipped here for eighteen months ten years ago. "I asked around," Wendy said, "but nobody remembered you."

I laughed. How funny that this place had been so formative and special for me but that I was unremembered. I loved the asymmetry of it. It's good to be humbled periodically.

Wendy and I walked around the estate, she showing me what had changed. "The place is different now." she said.

Ten years ago the very first Somali immigrants were being housed here, now they are a majority of the residents in the tower blocks and low-rise flats. There have been big physical changes too. The estate had pioneered the "New Deal for Communities" programme. £50 million over ten years amounted to £10,000 for every man, woman and child. Apart from the new school, there's a health centre, children's playground, and lots of steel fences and security cameras. But there was a calmness and a greater sense of peace about the place than I remembered. Apparently a lot of the money was spent on employing local people and I'm glad that it wasn't simply non-resident professionals who benefitted.

Wendy and I walked and talked as we went through Lawrence Hill and into the city centre. The new Cabot Circus shopping centre was busy - how different from the French bank holidays I experienced, where even Ikea closed for the day.

I walked through Broadmead, along the Quay and up Park Street, remembering the very first time we came here as a family. That first move away from Wolverhampton was such a big one for us all.

Up Whiteladies Road and Blackboy Hill to the Downs, where we came as a family to watch the solar eclipse. I'd walked here often, many times during the period of silence which followed David Runcorn's Wednesday morning spirituality lectures.

(Continued in Part Three)