Like so many parts of London, one can amble along a leafy, quiet avenue, cruising past expensive cars and nice houses. Large plants and six-by-four-foot red paintings in the window, happy families dining together. School satchels and obedient dogs resting in the hallway, only to then turn a corner into desolate, depressing, under-developed and perhaps drink and drug riddled areas within seconds. The lazy tagging supporting a bus stop or tower block stairway and lift. The empty local chicken boxes and beer cans furnish the gutter. The smell of Skunkweed protruding from a dark alley. In sotto voce the blatant advertising of various supplies and wares of dealers.
The polarisation of one street to the next can be incredible. Within seconds a mood and political view can change. Some people protest, some fight, some kick back and watch, and some are oblivious.
It’s tough identifying which Brixton street falls into which of these sense of belongings.
The estates, the buildings, the streets, the parks, the schools, the libraries and the people all make a community and, in Brixton’s case, a very colourful and multicultural one.
It’s difficult working out who’s actually looking out for whom. Ulterior motives are ripe round here.
Having lived in South London for almost fifteen years. I've seen it change, some areas more dramatically than others.
Railton Road is a good place to start. Linking Herne Hill to Brixton in one road, it has through the years seen much of what has made Brixton the place it is today. From squatters to riots, political unease to the Black Panther movement, gay activism to race identity problems, radical bookshops to Pentecostal churches. All of which are not necessarily connected, but as a whole are the binding of our neighbourhood. The joining and creation of a diverse community; history made.
It's dark, it’s bright.
It's soul destroying, it’s refreshing.
It's home, it’s abroad.
It's black, it’s white.
It's mine, and it’s yours!