All we are saying, is give kids a chance

A couple of weeks ago I volunteered to help out at Aquinas Sixth Form College with some interview training.

I sat across the table from eight different young people with all their hopes dreams and aspirations laid bare, and tried to give them a first experience of what it’s like to talk about themselves one-to-one with a complete stranger for 15 minutes or so.

These were students who the college has identified as having real potential and suggested to them that they should apply to top universities. 

Let me mention first why I did it.

Young people have had a rough ride. Most of these did their GCSE year in lockdown. They’ve bounced from one challenging time of life into a new educational setting. 

The future is full of volatility and economic uncertainty. Technology is changing so fast that it puts real pressure on what students can learn that will be useful to them.  

As I look back from my comfortable position in midlife, I’ve made a promise to myself to say yes to such requests for help. Each and every offer of a helpful word, or a guiding hand, that I had when I was young, wasn’t always grasped at. But when I did, it was valuable.

You know too that the posh kids at the top private schools will have pushy Dads coming in to talk about careers in the City and corporate life. 

But it’s also because I’m sick to the back teeth with employers complaining about the lack of skills of young people entering the workforce, but doing naff all about addressing it.

Most, if not all, of the students I spoke to had never had a job interview or been grilled by an admissions tutor at a university. But nearly all of them had part-time jobs in shops, pubs and restaurants. A couple had e-commerce microsites selling things they’ve made on platforms like Etsy and eBay. 

I think that’s amazing and is really something to shout about. So is building your resilience by talking to workmates and customers.

Each and every one of us has a story, a view of the world that is entirely unique to us.

I was keen to make them feel comfortable and establish common ground. A bit needy, I know, but I at least wanted to get them talking about what mattered to them.

As a part-time DJ I find that music is such a great unifier, whatever our personal likes.

It’s amazing how often music provides that bridge. One of the students told me her favourite artist at this year’s Parklife Festival was Joy Crookes, who burst onto the scene last year and who we played on our show a few times. I also had the conversation about Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill with the Stranger Things fans. 

Music ignites the passions, sport and literature and films do too. Sharing experiences won’t solve the world’s problems, but if it’s the simple act of listening and understanding the world from someone else’s perspective, then that’s got to be a good thing.

I don't know if it made any difference or not, but if I can leave you with one thought, it's this. Volunteer to help out with this kind of thing. Share your experience. As John Lennon sort of said, all we are saying, is give kids a chance.

(column in the Tameside Reporter and Glossop Chronicle, July 2022)

Francis, Kevin and Rachel

We pack a lot into our little holidays, and we always seem to learn a thing or two.

Full Irish breakfast to start a busy day, comes without baked beans, and soda bread is better than two slices of holy ghost. 

We had a lovely chat to Pat Casey, the manager of the Glendalough Hotel, who enjoyed learning about our visit to the former seat of one of his predecessors, Francis Slefer, Rachel's great grandfather. He showed us around the documents and the hotel diary, the reason why the name lost its Royal in the 1980s. 

Pat also pointed us along the way to the ruins of Derralossary Church, a Protestant chapel, where Francis and his wife Agnes and son Karel are buried. The grave is right next to the family resting place of Erskine Childers, the only President of Ireland to die in office in 1974, and his author and rebel son who wrote The Riddle of the Sands, and was killed by the Black and Tans in the Civil War. 

We took in St Kevin’s Church and read of the story of a blackbird nesting in the outstretched hand of the imprisoned Kevin of Glendalough, immortalised in a Seamus Heaney poem. It's self-sacrifice, doing untold good for others, no matter the personal cost, which on the occasion of the special birthday for the most generous soul I know is remarkably appropriate.

Maybe because I was raised tantalising close to the sea I have a thing for seaside towns, closed down, forgotten, or revived. Bray looks like the latter. Lovely, tidy Bray. The seaside town that refused to shut down. Inevitably, ill-equipped and under-estimating, we cracked on and walked a sharp route to Bray Head Cross on the headland above the town. Maybe I missed something dark, a few streets back from the shore, but I loved Bray and I think it's the town Morecambe could be.

We watched the sunset on a beautiful trip as the sky lit up red over Dublin Airport. 

Happy birthday,  Rachel. I don't think I could love you any more, but I'll keep trying. Keep stretching out that hand.

Big Sleep Out

 

So many of us have had something of an epiphany over recent months. A feeling that we have to think about others, wake up to the terrible circumstances many people find themselves in and do something positive.

Rachel is sleeping out tonight as part of the Big Sleep Out, the major fundraiser her charity, Caritas, is organising, particularly to raise money to continue the amazing work of the Cornerstone Day Centre in Manchester, providing practical help and support for people that are street homeless, sofa-surfing, and those without the security of a permanent home. 

It would be great if you could sponsor Rachel, or donate to the appeal. You can do that here.

Grateful

There are a dozen things I could write about today, at least. 

Having had such a busy weekend, seen people, done more in two days than we had in two years. So it seems appropriate to take a bit of a step back. In the course of the last half hour, scrolling social media as I come around to start a busy Sunday, I’m reminded of one of the 32 habits suggested in Natasha Jones’ book Mandemic, reminding yourself every day to be grateful for what you have, to properly pause and tally up. 

Life can be hard, things pile up, challenges seem insurmountable. Many people suffer the Sunday Scaries; worrying about the week ahead before the weekend is even over. 

A friend seeing our posts from an incredible Richard Hawley concert last night makes a beautiful complimentary comment about us that is humbling and sad, especially from someone I hold in such high regard. But we all wear a mask to some extent, projecting the best version of ourselves. 

The last thing I’d ever want to do is flaunt a perfectionist profile that forced a comparison. But here’s the point: more than anything I feel grateful today. For all of it. It doesn’t feel right for me to list what that is, but I’d just love for everyone to take time today to just be grateful, to give thanks, to embrace it, channel it, don’t backdate it. I will if you will.

And at a time when I've never felt as disconnected from faith and truth and God, I'll go to church to use that hour to try and give thanks.

 And thank you, whoever you are, for reading this.

The footballification of politics and scandal

Sorry, not sorry

Usually, when an organisation launches an enquiry, it is to have an independent person reach a just and fair conclusion about something that has gone wrong. In a just and fair world, those who are investigated and found to have trangressed, misbehaved and simply made a mistake, are supposed to take responsibility for that. This of course was designed to provide accountability and trigger change in an imperfect world.

Let's just have a think about what's been happening. Well, you all see the news and frankly I haven't the words any more. People seem to disregard these simple and thoughtful attempts to regulate our society as a trigger to double down. 

I haven't read it yet, but I believe the writer and broadcaster James O'Brien is developing this theory in his new book: 

We’re completely immersed in the “footballification” of politics. Actions are judged not by an objective assessment of their content but by the perceived allegiances of protagonists. We tackle it by publicly owning our mistakes, praising opposing ‘teams’ & criticising our own. 

So, call me a dreary centrist if you like, but Priti Patel, Cardinal Vincent Nichols and Jeremy Corbyn need to own their errors, show some contrition, and their supporters need to think of the consequences of on people affected by their failures of leadership, not doubling down. There's something worse about a non-apology apology. "I'm sorry if you were offended by my unintentional bullying of you" or frankly,  "I oppose anti-semitism and all forms of racism", is the left wing version of "don't all lives matter?"

Down with this sort of thing. Careful now.

If you can be anything, be kind

 

I'm giving over today's blog for a straight up appeal for my wife Rachel's incredible work for people experiencing homelessness and everything that entails. 

TV's John Thomson has voiced the video for the Caritas Advent Appeal, urging people to give at a time when the services are not only stretched, but finding it harder to raise funds while churches are closed and so many people are feeling the pinch.

Homelessness is so much more than sleeping rough or on a park bench.

When we think about homelessness, our thoughts often turn to those poor souls sleeping rough in a shop doorway or on a park bench. Of course, sadly we all know that the problem is so much greater than that.  There are countless people ‘sofa surfing’ – the term given to those relying on friends, family and even casual acquaintances to put them up for a night.  

And then there is the shocking statistic of ‘hidden homelessness’ affecting families, highlighted recently:  

A child is made homeless every 8 minutes in Britain*. A staggering 135,000 children are living in temporary accommodation - bed and breakfasts and hostels - totally unsuitable for family life. *Source: Shelter December 2019 

The short film made for the appeal features Nikki, Quinton and Rochelle telling their unique stories of homelessness.  Thanks to the love and support from Caritas support workers and volunteers, they’ve transformed their lives and are looking forward with hope to a brighter future.

Due to the pandemic, the film will be shared digitally and uses the hashtag #MiracleofKindness, a direct reference to Pope Francis’ most recent encyclical, Fratelli Tutti in which he calls for kindness to be recovered because it is a ‘star shining in the darkness.’

*To give £10 Text the words BEKIND to 70460 

Fundraising has been almost impossible this year. But the need for these services is greater than ever.  We hope these personal stories of hope will leave an impression that calls for action and shines a light into the darkness.

Gift Aid allows us to claim 25% on your gift without it costing you a penny extra.  If you are a UK tax payer, please gift aid donations.  

To give £10, text the words BEKIND to 70460.  *Texts cost £10 plus one standard message. You will occasionally hear updates about the impact donations have made to the lives of those we support. Text BEKINDNOINFO to give £10 if you do not wish to hear from us.

How we pray

When I did my blog earlier in the month about why I'm still a Catholic (albeit a crap one), it got me thinking. It attracted a few questions as well. What's different about how I conduct my life? How is this blog, for example, a projection of Christian faith?

Today at church, the Gospel readings were about prayer and how to do it.

In a nutshell, it's this: Praise God, seek forgiveness, ask for what you need, then for good measure, offer thanks for all you have. Reading back through these daily thoughts over the last month, in their own way each one is a prayer. A musing, a doubt, a confession of weakness, an expression of human frailty and a plea for help and guidance.

And when we pray to ask for what we need, and for others. I don't ask for a Jaguar car, by the way, or anything material, but do I really need that Sunspel white t-shirt? or another book I might not read? But take the last two posts. Our really upsetting experience with the criminal justice system, something that we also thought isn't something nice people like us should ever have to deal with, has been a massive test for us. Humbling, terrifying, but strengthening too. Dealing with feelings of anger, vengeance, hatred, but we've tried to channel it, to make our experience have meaning. To act positively to what negative experience has taught us. Similarly, the exercise regime I wrote about yesterday, I wrestled with that all day and today and I've come to some firm conclusions about what I do and for who.

So, for Sunday, thank you for all my friends, my family, everyone who has been so kind to us, for everyone who takes the trouble to read these self-indulgent and rambling posts. Thank you. And please forgive my vanity, venality and that I can be quick to judge and condemn. And as for that Rovers away kit, lead us not into temptation...

Amen.

The men who went to the moon

There is something so magnetic about the original astronauts. As kids we followed all the space missions avidly. I was only 3 when the first mission to put a man on the moon was completed 50 years ago today, but we all wanted to know much more about it. Somehow it seemed to symbolise boundless optimism in a world of conflict. I remember very well the Apollo-Soyuz mission with the Soviet Union to link up in space. 

It was a great privilege to meet Buzz Aldrin in 1995 at the MIPCOM television market in Cannes. He'd been flown in by MTM, a Hollywood studio, to promote a new series called The Cape, which he wasn't even in, but was about NASA.

There wasn't a great deal he imparted, in truth. He was happy to pose for pictures and say how pleased he was to be there. I wish I'd made more of the opportunity. It's difficult to find the words other than 'thank you' for being such an inspiration. He's had an eventful life, not always a happy one, struggling with drink and depression. But even at 89 he remains a fascinating, lucid and thoughtful man as this interview with National Geographic shows. He gets called the second man to walk on the moon. I think of him of the first man to take Communion on the moon. There's an exhibition at Lichfield Cathedral celebrating this.

In 2003 I also met Neil Armstrong. He was the keynote speaker at the North West Business Convention at Tatton Park alongside Peter Mandelson and Sven Goran Ericksson, amongst others. The event lost money and didn't quite live up to its billing. I suspect that Neil Armstrong had two prices for public speaking. One for $20k to talk about the moon landings, and one for $10k to give a lecture on the history of flight. The organisers clearly plumped for the second and the delegates were left disappointed.

Anyway, I know what you're all thinking. What's with the hair? It wasn't through the shock of meeting Buzz, but it did seem like a good idea at the time.

Why I'm still a Catholic

OK, so I'm blogging every day this month. So far I've ticked off a couple of common themes. That was easy. Rose Hill station, a tap in. A musical eulogy, round the keeper and into an empty net. Family life, a hard working team effort.

And yet there's something I do every week that I rarely talk about. Church. Faith. To be more precise, the Catholic Church, which I properly joined in 2007 and has been a part of me for a good chunk of my life. In the theme cloud along the side of this blog you'll see that I blog about Catholic stuff as much as I do about London, radio and food. And nothing like as much as I do about Blackburn Rovers, Manchester and the Labour party.

Part of it is a lack of confidence in what I believe, how I don't really live up to what it should be to be a practising Catholic, or have a thorough understanding of how to live an authentic Christian life, albeit an imperfect one. Though I do get that is the absolute cornerstone of our faith. It isn't about being perfect, it's not a zero sum game, it's who we are as flawed unique humans. And that a spirit in us all, an inner voice that says that you matter, you have value, you are loved. That's what made us. That's God.

I've even deflected personal responsibility for this piece of content, by making it subsidiary to something far slicker, a video from Alpha (top), a course I went on and took part in a couple of years ago. Alpha really changed how I thought about the whole religious experience, about what the essential message of Jesus Christ was and how it is as relevant today as it's always been. An idea that for all the horrors of the world, the response of kindness, humility, forgiveness and a readiness to confront injustice, we can create this on earth - God's kingdom as He intended - and it is an idea that Jesus died for. For us.

And also how it's above all else a social enterprise, a shared and collective experience of people gathered together in the name of Jesus. I actively, enthusiastically love that. There is something special about a parish. The gathering together of people of all shapes, sizes, ages, backgrounds and with all their burdens. Many of us might work in diverse workplaces, follow our sports teams with a mixed crowd, but where else do you get to look someone in the eye, having shared a ritual of such profundity, such power, such mystery, then say 'peace be with you'?  And that the same thing is happening all over the world in our universal church at roughly the same time, give or take. Or as Frank Cottrell Boyce put it - "each parish has the potential to be a neighbourhood utopia." That, for me, is a little bit of the Holy Spirit.

I'm sorry this is a bit crap. It's neither profound, nor answers the question I set.

Let me try and answer it another way. What if I wasn't still a Catholic? And what if I'm wrong?

Seriously, what will any of us have lost by taking these beautiful words of inspiration every week and to try and live our lives accordingly? What's the worst that can happen? I get to dodge the terrible car parking skills of my fellow church goers, I no longer have to endure the occasional dirge of a hymn I don't know, and drift off through a homily I can't follow because I'm not clever enough? It's imperfect, it's church, but I know I'd be far far poorer and less fulfilled if I didn't have it. That's why I'm still a Catholic.

Simplicity, humility, charity, service and unity - thank you Harrytown Catholic High School

We’ve just got home from an emotional evening at Stockport Town Hall. Seeing our youngest lad get two gongs at the Harrytown Catholic High School Awards Evening was just fantastic, especially as one was for music. A couple of years ago he started getting interested in making his own music. We tried lessons, a crap guitar, but it was a proper MIDI keyboard and a download of FL Studio that propelled him to new heights. The sounds that come from our garage are like something else, like Giorgio Moroder has moved in for the night to do some electronic jamming with Kendrick Lamar. He’s had to work hard to catch up with the kids in his music GCSE class who have much better parents than he has, and have been mastering instruments and scales all their lives. So that was just brilliant.

But it was something else as well. Living round here as long as we have, knowing the families, knowing the twists and turns of their lives, the heartbreaks and the challenges, gives you a  glimpse of the importance of those moments for kids enjoying that walk of pride across the stage. Rachel taught some of them and has first hand experience of their journey. And I don’t know why but the kids with names ending in scu and ski get me every time. You know, coming over here, making friends, learning a language, putting up with bullying and the nasty stink of Brexit, coming to OUR COUNTRY, and achieving. I love it when I see them succeed.

Then there’s more still. Running a school in this climate is so hard. I was a governor of Harrytown for a while, and today isn’t the time to dwell on why that wasn’t an entirely happy experience. But I couldn’t be more delighted that the school has this week been awarded GOOD status again by OFSTED, proving that the improvement measures they required last time have been met. The head, the staff, the governors, the kids will have all made an enormous effort to get that kite mark of progress. Yes, it’s really important. Yes, it matters. But something deeper, more uplifting and joyous occurred tonight for so many families and for our community.

I think it deserves a prayer, the school prayer.

Heavenly Father, we gather together as one community in your name.

Give us the courage to live our shared vision that Christ is among us, at the centre of all we do.

Pour down your Spirit on Harrytown Catholic High School.

Renew in us the simplicity to recognise your presence at the heart of each person and the humility to put others first.

Touch our lives with your love so that we can share each day with each other and wide world in charity and service.

Unite us to live in the same spirit that moved Jesus to give his life for others so that ‘all may have life and live it to the full.’

We make this prayer through Jesus Christ, your Son.

Amen.

A Life in Thirty-Five Boxes – Dave Haslam book event

Me and Joe really enjoyed Dave Haslam’s launch of his first mini-book last night, a series which he has dubbed ‘Art Decades’. The first mini-book in the ‘Art Decades’ series will be ‘A Life in Thirty-Five Boxes: How I Survived Selling My Record Collection’.

Partly I think it's because I always love listening to Dave when he tells stories. I've probably heard him in this kind of setting more than I've heard him DJ now, which is a testament to his own successful second act - I won't prolong that metaphor, too many have. We also heard about some of the slightly surprising things collected by his guest panellists; poet Tony Walsh, musician/artist Naomi Kashiwagi, and DJ/producer Mark Rae, including a crazy story about a trip to Chernobyl.

The blurb for the event explained how the core of ‘A Life in Thirty-Five Boxes’ is an exploration of our impulse to collect - particularly our emotional attachment to vinyl - and the notion that every record collection reflects our life story. Dave tracks how his own collection built up, how others have fed their obsessive collecting, including the man who tracks down multiple versions of Light My Fire by Jose Feliciano. It takes us all the way to the moment Dave decides to sell all his vinyl to DJ Seth Troxler, and waves goodbye to thirty-five boxes of records as they’re loaded into the back of a van.

He talks a lot about giving up the inheritance his vinyl collection represented - he was going to pass it to his children - but feared the tragedy of it scattering and breaking up. It reminded me of the parable of the rich man getting in to the kingdom of heaven, and it being harder than a camel passing through the eye of a needle. I have always taken that to be less of a denunciation of wealth, more of a statement that you can't take any of it with you, so give it back with love.

As is often the case, the Q+A flushed out some important points. Not least, the triumph of nostalgic revisionism. Dave touched on it in a challenging essay he wrote in 2015, here:

"The city authorities habitually give a nod to Factory Records, but I’m not sure they quite get important parts of the Factory story. The Hacienda wasn’t a disco version of the Trafford Centre. The Factory label, the club, those around and involved – from musicians to video makers – produced culture. It wasn’t an exercise in consuming but creating. In addition, like Shelagh Delaney, not only were they forced into action by despair at the cultural provision of the time, Factory operated outside the margins. One of the richest chapters of Manchester’s cultural history began when the lads who went on to form Joy Division began to meet up in a makeshift rehearsal room above the Black Swan Pub, near Weaste Bus Depot.

"This self-organised, independent activity still happens of course; actors, crews, artists, printmakers, musicians, freelancers hiring pub functions rooms, meeting wherever and whenever, trying to bring ideas to life. Isn’t it time these people were celebrated and encouraged?"

Since then I feel the city has become even more of a shallow memorial to the misunderstood past of Madchester. I like to think Dave's writing and his new publishing model is a subtle nod to how to use our past to tick on to the future, but as we walked out there was a poster for another Hacienda night (at Gorilla).

Are Sundays cheat days in Lent?

Apparently, they are not. My social media abstinence is holding. It is definitely giving me time and space to think, pray and read a lot more. But I am breaking it a little on Sunday just to update the blog, which has a trigger to Twitter. 

I've given up social media for Lent

Six years ago I gave up alcohol for Lent. I never started again. Last year I forsook crisps, but I've now cut down on potato based snacks for health reasons. I could claim to be giving up impulse buys of clothes and books, but I'm skint. So this year I'm giving up Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Pinterest, MySpace and LinkedIn. To be honest I only really use the first two, and I'm not even sure that MySpace exists anymore. I probably have to carry on with Blogger, but only on Sundays.

But Lent isn't just about giving up and sacrificing things we like, it has to be about what you do extra. I haven't quite figured that bit out yet. It's a time for prayer and reflection, for searching, for resisting temptation and doing good.

Earlier today I posted a blog about health and fitness, which was a strong reason why I won't be fasting as my fairly strict diet takes precedent. I've also been on a long personal journey where I've been looking for guidance and help to stop feeling angry about others. It's something I've struggled with all my life, effectively drinking poison in the hope that it will hurt those I'm angry about. Guess what? It doesn't work. As I sit here now, there are situations where I would previously have seethed at those I've clashed with, gossiped about so-called rivals. No more. Maybe it's been a renewed focus, a health scare, or maybe it's something else. When you choose to look you can bear witness to the inspiring behaviour of people you least expect, people who are capable of such remarkable forgiveness and charity to those who may not deserve it. In my life too I've got the example of my wonderful mother who has reserves of love, loyalty and self-sacrifice that leave me speechless and in awe.

See you on Easter Sunday.

My mate #25 Michael Merrick

I was delighted to hear my mate Michael Merrick on Radio 4's Four Thought recently. It was in so many ways so typical of him. Searingly honest, humbly self-examining and so very modest for what it left out.

So, I thought I'd add him to the "my mate" series on this blog, where I randomly shuffle my address book and talk about my friends, how we met and what I like about them.

Michael tells the story on the programme of how he graduated and thought of himself as above his family, and then how that has spoken to him about the idea of social mobility. It's always slightly incongruous to listen to a friend talk about the previous version of themselves. Especially as the Michael I know would never do that, he has such genuine love and admiration for the treasures of family and community. Rightly, the piece has been praised for the honesty and depth of thought that has gone into his own journey and how he reflects on social mobility and how kids leave their homes to 'better themselves'.

Michael and I met on Twitter. We had a shared interest in Catholic education, Catholic social teaching, Labour and Lancaster. I'd been impressed by his work for Philip Blond on his inspiring and ambitious book Red Tory. When we eventually met in real life, I'm pleased to say our friendship took on an upward tick. Though it was politics and faith that brought us together, there's so much more about this amazing man that I have grown to admire.

His advice to me as I stepped into politics was exemplary. Starting with why? But linking it to our duty and our salvation. He pulled off a remarkable conference in Manchester that drew together a wide range of voices and thinkers for a tradition he and I wanted to co-create - to place community, work and family into the political value system. We've both since moved away from Labour, and share similar frustrations that Maurice Glasman's Blue Labour seems to be going nowhere. We voted on different sides in the EU referendum and probably disagree on a few other things too. But my admiration for his solid insolence and defiance will never waver.

But what I was driving towards is how much Michael left out in this most recent exercise in soul searching. In his generous sharing of his life journey he didn't mention that he had been a professional footballer with Norwich City, nor that he has been a philosophy teacher in a High School, but is now part of a leadership team as deputy head in a Catholic community primary school.  That school has this week just received a "good" rating by OFSTED for the first time since 2001. I don't know the other people involved, I'm sure they have all played their part. But what I do know from the man I've seen; the clever, gentle, inspiring man, is that he has been involved in something very special. If I was a parent in Carlisle, I'd be fighting to get my children educated by him.

In the midst of this tribute I've also not touched on Michael's family. He has a lot of children and is a devoted husband. Or his humour, or his quest for truth...

Life takes you in different directions from time to time. I'm just very proud this week to doff my cap and say my prayers of thanks that I can count Michael Merrick a friend.

First World Problems put into context in Shrewsbury

The impressive stained glass window at Shrewsbury's small but stunning Catholic cathedral depicts the desperate and gory history of England's Catholic martyrs. Tortured, executed and persecuted for their faith. Being able to take that in and then order a cup of herbal tea and a freshly baked cake in a beautifully appointed cafe underneath speaks to the progress towards civilisation we have made.

It's also a reminder that we live in a society where we do what we want, say what we want and live within rules, for the most part. Our discourse dwells endlessly on our divided and fractured society. Social science focuses relentlessly on breakdown, schism and threats to the social order. I'm frankly amazed at how it actually holds together for the good most of the time. My anger and frustration at the sight of broken lives sleeping in doorways is not that society can't prevent this, but that the solutions are so remarkably within our grasp.

I got to know how to get around the country by train at a remarkably young age, taking summer holidays by buying British Rail runabout tickets that took me from Wales to the Scottish border, just because we could. I'm also reminded now quite how much of our country I want to see, either revisit or see for the first time. Either way it's a journey of discovery. At different stages of life you view places as through a lens. I first wandered the streets of Shrewsbury as a teenager, bored with the frankly pointless collection of train numbers on Crewe station, so I jumped on a train to Shrewsbury and looked around the town. I was on the hunt for record shops, probably, and somewhere to eat. I certainly didn't go to the Cathedral.

Shrewsbury is a lovely place for a day out. If you've come to this blog to read about the football match I went to, then can I politely direct you here, where Old Blackburnian, who we sat next to at the New Meadow, summarised it perfectly.

The New Meadow is another new ground chalked off. I make it the 151st ground I've watched football on, I'm still on 80 out of the Punk 92 as I went to the previous ground, Gay Meadow a few times, and it marks my 73rd of the current 92. Doing the 92 isn't just a way of chalking off identikit grounds, but a way of rediscovering this land.

Choose peace and hope, an evening with the Mizens

Amidst all the hate, the naked racism and division throughout our society, Rachel and I were fortunate to take our seats in a public meeting last night to hear a strong message of love and hope from Barry and Margaret Mizen.
Eight years ago they lost their son Jimmy in a brutal attack in south London just a day after his 16th birthday.
Ever since they have dedicated their lives to promoting peace and love, driven by their strong Christian faith, through the For Jimmy charity.
At a time when my confidence in our politics has never been so low it was a reminder that there are many ways to change the world. And never has it felt more important to embrace that message of love, forgiveness, peace and hope. 

The 2015 reading pile - how did we do?

I've always had a pile of books I've hoped to get through. It's rare that I've ever finished every one, but here's the pile from the second half of 2015.

Fiction

I absolutely loved all three novels on the list which I read on holiday in Croatia back in August. My mate Dave Chadwick's historical novel Liberty Bazaar was my favourite of a strong three and the full review from August is here.

Dave Eggers' The Circle is a terrifying dystopian journey into the cult like world of Silicon Valley. Every time I've shared a moment on Facebook or Twitter, or even this blog about what books I've read I've thought about the twisted purpose behind the "free" Internet model we've all signed up for.

Anyone familiar with Roddy Doyle's writing will be both amused and moved by The Guts, a sometimes tragic return to the lives of the characters in his earlier masterpiece The Commitments. Cancer, post-crash Dublin, family strain. But still very funny.

Collections

The Blue Labour collection was published before the disastrous General Election and where ideas of community and Labour's traditions were trashed by a collective unwillingness to face up to the challenge of a Summer of hard truths. Same goes for Hope Dies Last, an inspiring collection of stories of community organising recommended by John McTernan. The Talk Like TED collection was good too, but I've only dipped in and out, to be honest.

Manchester 

The two books on Manchester are both by writers I know well - Phil Griffin and Jonathan Schofield. They present the city I love through very different lenses and with a different intended outcome. Nevertheless they both really capture the quirks and optimism really well.

The rest

I enjoyed Paul Vallely's biography of Pope Francis and something I kept returning to as the Holy Father continued his transformative mission throughout the Church. It was a good accompaniment to Terry Eagleton's superb revisiting of the Gospels and the view of Christ the radical.

I rediscovered Charlie Brooker's TVGoHome in the attic and enjoyed the old TV listings, Daily Mail Island and Nathan Barley - a real loo read.

A confession

There were loads that made it on after the photo was taken, including at least three Jack Reacher books by the prolific Lee Child, these are properly addictive. I didn't get round to to Rob Parsons Heart of Success or Michael Sandel's What Money Can't Buy. I honestly wasn't in the right place or frame of mind for either. I think I am now, so I'll give both another go when I get stuck into the new job.

Wipe our mouths and move on - life's too short

I've been reminded this week of the importance of embracing peace in our lives.

Feuds, rivalries, hostilities and resentments can eat us up. They provide a cruel spectacle for outsiders looking in, they can also be distracting and all-consuming. Sometimes we can be driven by a sense of justice and fairness, that our determination to right a wrong grows and grows. But all that really grows is negativity and bitterness.

I've witnessed this week a humbling and brave act of reconciliation, dwarfed though by the enormity of the life of a departed friend. Funerals tend to focus our minds on what is truly important, to reinforce our sense of humility.

Forgiveness is an important part of faith. It's right there in the Lord's Prayer - forgive those who trespass against us. Our friend Father Edmund Montgomery, former priest of our parish, describes purgatory as like a waiting room where you can't leave until you've made good all those feuds, conflicts and arguments.

You don't even have to be religious to see the sense of this. Even a stark utilitarian assessment of it tells us that we can have achieved so much more, but for the distraction of settling scores.

To me the greatest reconciliation is within our own hearts. We say to our kids, "come on, make friends, play nicely". I think about the people I've fallen out with and that's clearly impossible. You can't go back to what you used to have and in a busy and changing world it's important to recognise that what was once working, maybe now doesn't. Saying sorry can help, but it's become rather devalued once you attach the caveats of "if you were offended". No, maybe it's better to just wipe our mouths and move on.

I'm in the privileged position of looking back at an extraordinary year in my life, truly bizarre, but also looking to the future of a new challenge and purpose with hope and great expectation. Thank you all for your support, friendship and occasional comments on these Friday missives. I look forward to renewing our conversation in January.

Peace be with you this Christmas.

Judge, Jury and Executioner - this week and the search for purpose

Come on, be honest. We're all guilty of piling up books we dip into, but probably don't get round to reading properly. I think I've found a solution - using a library, so the return deadline forces you. I've done it this week with Mission by Michael Hayman, which I loaned from the RSA Library, always a delightful pit stop on a trip to London.

It's made me think a great deal about purpose. How businesses need to embrace that zeal of political campaigning in order to achieve a sense of destiny, mission and a very clear reason to exist. The examples he cites include Uber, Netflix and Airbnb, but we shouldn't fall into the trap of narrowing such an approach to disruptive tech businesses, but almost anything. It's going to get very noisy out there.

I was introduced to Michael last year by our mutual friend Martin Vander Weyer of the Spectator. I hope to see more of what he has achieved and test out his ideas for campaigning business.

Judge

With this in mind I spent Monday judging the Northern Marketing Awards. There were some really genius creative ideas, but I was as impressed by entries for mean clients with meagre budgets as I was by the consumer campaigns backed up by major advertising spend.

I have a personal policy of never saying no to the BBC. It's a great honour to be asked onto TV or radio to share your views and the experience never feels wasted. I also think about the programme I'm going on and what it is seeking to achieve. I have always preferred radio to TV, but did a two hour stint on That's Manchester's Late Night Live programme this week. I've had a long term interest in new TV channels, having been involved in the launch of a new station two whole decades ago. This felt eerily familiar, the difference now though is that YouTube has changed the rules of distribution.

Jury

We held a storming debate at Manchester Central Library last night. The motion before the house was "This is the age of political easy answers" which inevitably came in for some stick. The speakers - Tristram Hunt, Douglas Carswell, Seamus Milne and Vanda Murray - were all brilliant. As was the chair, Francesca Gains, the head of politics at the University of Manchester.

I believe Discuss could be immense. There has never been a greater appetite for ideas and meaning. So far, we produce these monthly debates, but we have dared ourselves to dream and think bigger.

I've also been throwing myself into my core business this week, creating compelling content for businesses and brands. I'm fortunate that the people and organisations I work for have such great stories to tell and whether it's helping businesses get investment or helping people take control of their financial future, the common link is that I can contribute to their success by bringing people together and exploring new ideas.

Executioner?

After the result of the Labour leadership election it's been a strange week. I was deeply disappointed at the victory for Jeremy Corbyn, but it's done now. I've struggled to find much positive to say, but I was impressed by both Corbyn and David Cameron at Prime Minister's Questions. It won't last, but the weekly ritual represents so much that is wrong with public life. There is an opportunity to change it, which opens up politics to start happening in places other than the floor of the house.

Finally, I've been asked by our local priest, Father Michael Gannon, to join the management committee of the new St Christopher Centre which is being built next to our church. Our group met to make some early decisions this week, but Father Michael is crystal clear on what he wants to happen and what the centre needs to be, not a sports hall, not just any other space, but somehwere special for us to do important work - starting with the aim to be able to serve Christmas dinner to over 100 otherwise lonely and isolated parishioners on Christmas Day. Everything else is detail. How's that for a purpose?

Our local campaign for Labour in Hazel Grove - it's about you

At the manifesto launch, members junior and senior, 14-94

When I rejoined the Labour Party last year it was very much with the General Election of 2015 in mind, but as a member of the campaign team. Expectations in the constituency were incredibly low. But I had started to look at how we filled the void in ideas and campaign strategy and thought how we could set a number of different targets and objectives for the existing candidate - building the party, energising the membership and taking a different approach to how Labour does community campaigning.

At the 2014 conference I came across some great ideas. Liz Kendall talked about imaginative public service reform, I went to a really inspiring talk by Maurice Glasman on community campaigning and facing up to the UKIP challenge.

Fired up by this we convened a street stall in the centre of Marple the following Saturday, where the intention was to start a conversation with the public. To ask, rather than tell. Listen, rather than speak. As Maurice said, the average amount of time it takes a Labour activist to interrupt someone in the flow of telling them something that is important to them is about 8 seconds. The time where an intervention is in any way useful, is about 30 seconds.

Anyway, the candidate never turned up and it later transpired that she'd quit the party altogether over a dispute I never understood that had nothing to do with politics. I worried though about what might happen next. It was likely a new candidate could be parachuted in from outside with no local knowledge, with the clock ticking towards May 2015. At the same time an Ashcroft poll had us in a poor FOURTH place behind UKIP.

We were in danger of losing valuable time. So, given I'd factored in the time to give my all for the campaign for Labour for this election, it didn't take me long to think about putting my name forward and on December the 6th, just five months from polling day, I was selected.

Now, I'm not going to take you through a blow by blow account of what happened in our campaign, but that long introduction provides an important context for how this came about and how I came to be candidate and how my ideas for the campaign developed.

At Stockport College with first time voters

I have had limited experience of political campaigning, but if this campaign was going to be about anything it was party building and gathering the talents. I had 5 months to convince 10,000 Liberal Democrat voters that voting the same way would get them a Conservative government. So, I loaded up my iPod, plugged in my headphones and started delivering leaflets and knocking on doors right across the constituency.

The Jam
It was pretty clear that we would get limited support from the national or regional Labour machine, we weren't in any way, shape or form a target seat. Tony Blair didn't send me £1,000. We went to candidate briefings where our members were encouraged to get on a bus to Crewe. All the top Tories and Liberal Democrats visited Hazel Grove, or in the case of Nick Clegg, he launched the campaign in a pub car park in Hyde, in the wrong constituency. And while the Liberals could pump out a leaflet every other day and pay some company to deliver them, we had to do it all ourselves. To be fair, we got great support from the Stockport Local Campaign Forum in our target wards and I was chuffed at the support from Jonathan Reynolds MP and his team when he came over to meet environmental campaigners locally. But we needed to recruit a volunteer army locally and from beyond our regular pool.

Oasis
Our greatest strength was going to be our people and their talents. I had to embrace our outlier status, not resent it. If the rest of the party wasn't looking, we had a chance to do something different and "off message". What I lacked in campaign experience, I needed to make up in using what else we had in our locker. My business, branding, communication and consultative skills. Bizarrely, I'd been engaged on a detailed project looking at the future for a professional institute. I'd become marinaded in the literature of the future, how technology was changing work and how services are delivered, how the age of social media requires MORE contact, not less, how mainstream media and bloggers have parity of influence. I engaged with bloggers wherever I could, going to them, not inviting them to come to me.
In David Rowbottom, an English teacher, we had a superb copywriter. I had offers of help from friends, notably Ami Guest and Ade Newell from True North who worked with me on a campaign brand (see video below). We went relentlessly positive - offering a vision of the future for families, offering hope, not distrust and we also avoided personal attacks and presented our case as rooted and authentic. We came up with "It's about you" as our theme.


Michael Taylor Campaign Case study film from True North on Vimeo.

Squeeze
What I hadn't bargained for was the extent of the relentless Liberal Democrat squeeze on our vote and a determined effort to discourage our voters and push tactical voting. The Lib Dems fought Hazel Grove like it was a by-election, pumping out mountains of leaflets pushing the (dubious) local credentials of their candidate, stretching their credibility with a confected personal history. Their bar charts pushed the line that "Labour can't win here" - a drumbeat that a Labour vote was a wasted vote. We were told to expect a dirty trick and it came with a few weeks to go when a deliberately misleading letter from the previous Labour candidate, a so-called lifelong "Labour" supporter, that she "now" was backing the LibDems (a week later she announced she had joined them, proving it was a calculated stunt, probably dating back to that non-appearance at our street stall after conference, rather than the last minute heartfelt plea it was dressed up as). Bizarrely, hilariously, it had the opposite effect - our members were upset at this betrayal, loyal voters were angered and yet more volunteers came forward. True, some people contacted us in shock, thinking it was Labour giving up the campaign, not picking up on the detail. Instead we came out fighting and refuted it, but it was a dreadful distraction and something I truly hope the Liberals realise marked a low water mark in political campaigning.

The Clash
I did 7 public debates with rival candidates, many more events with members of the public and made our four regular weekend street stalls the centrepiece of the campaign, launching our short campaign by speaking on my Dad's upturned milk crate on Market Street, Marple on a wet Saturday in March.

After the Romiley Churches Together hustings

The debates were a new experience for me, but I relished it and seemed to do OK, getting decent reviews and recruiting new members to the campaign. I was determined to be honest and authentic, answering questions directly and tackling the other candidates on the record of their parties and what they were claiming. Two of them were Churches Together hustings and I knew that I would face questions that would highlight my stance on moral and ethical issues that I could either waffle around, or be straight about where I differ from mainstream opinion.
On the whole it was civil rather than cerebral, the Tory candidate lent me his pen when mine ran out, and I gave the Green candidate a lift home (in my Prius, he approved), but it is what politics should be about and I welcomed the chance.
If I have one regret at my conduct it was playing to the gallery and being rude to the UKIP candidate when I knew he was on the rack at a teacher's hustings.

Small Faces
I was determined to get young people involved in the campaign and put their talents to good use - but it's a lot to ask an 18 year old to knock on doors and get told to sod off. This is an area we still need to work on. Politics is a contact sport, but there are so many ways of engaging we could do much better at in the future. I was delighted, for instance, that Joe Barratt offered to help and produced this little film of us talking through the issues.

Kinks

Our fantastic team, after canvassing in Offerton

We started from zero and made it to the end with our heads held high, increasing our vote by 50 per cent, mostly at the expense of the Liberal Democrats, but we probably shipped half as many again to UKIP. We fought a good campaign. We were rough around the edges at times, a bit ragged in some of our data gathering techniques, but there isn't a single one of us who could have done more and none of us don't think we've grown and learned more about ourselves in the process. And the greatest thing about it was that we're going to build on this for the future as good friends and comrades.

Next: how we oppose.