The Musings of a Town Councillor

Tag: writing

  • From Pub Chat to Council Politics…

    Eighteen months before the election, it all began, a handful of us huddled in the Art Room in Redruth, plotting change.. We’d all read the inspirational Flatpack Democracy and wondered… could we do the same here, to our council in our little patch of the world?

    A section of a Google map of Redruth, showing the art room. The council offices literally sit underneath the word Redruth, on Alma Place.
    A section of a Google map of Redruth, showing the art room. The council offices literally sit underneath the word Redruth, on Alma Place.

    We met a few times. Although it was clear people wanted change, it was also clear that no one, including me, was quite ready to throw their hat into the ring. Despite reading the book, no one really understood what it would actually involve, or the level of commitment.

    “It was clear everyone there knew the town, but mostly their own little corner of it, and being so similar, it was hard to see how they truly represented the wider community”

    As one of the two ethnics in the room, who regularly worked and drank in the local pubs, I was concerned that everyone there was a certain “type” of person. I wondered whether their representation would be any more representative than what we already had. There was also a lot of fear about upsetting some of the current incumbents. It is hard… but as they say, you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

    Then it all fizzled out…

    Fast forward, and the elections were looming. There had been some changes at the council, some of which, from the outside, people questioned. We met again, this time in the pub where I work. The pub locals wondered whether any of the people looking to run for the council were actually residents of Redruth, as they’d never seen them before. Some of the incumbent councillors, who had been invited, spent a surprising amount of time and energy explaining how much work it was to be a councillor, in a rather unencouraging way. And then there was the presence of a member of the council staff, which felt unusual… almost like they were there to keep an eye on things. I’m still not entirely sure what that was about.

    “We were plotting change, while I ducked back and forth to the bar, pulling pints and putting my two pence in — hoping no one would come in and want a drink.”

    By the end of the night, six hands had gone up. It eventually became four, and that’s when things really started to get interesting…

  • Finding My Tribe in Redruth (and Dodging Mankinis Along the Way)

    So, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Ellie, I’m 46, and I’ve lived in Redruth for about six years. I moved here just before Covid hit and, to be honest, at first I didn’t love it.

    During the pandemic, living in Cornwall, my Facebook feed was full of stories about unwelcome visitors – including Gordon Ramsay. Being new to town and mixed race, which wasn’t very common here at the time, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I worried about leaving my flat (which had no natural light at all) in case someone accused me of being on holiday rather than actually living here. It never happened, of course… but you get the idea.

    Post Covid…

    When lockdown finally lifted, we began exploring. I was lucky: two of my close friends had moved to town around the same time, along with someone I only vaguely knew who would later become one of my besties. At first, Redruth didn’t exactly welcome us with open arms – we travelled in a pack and were met with curiosity, and sometimes trepidation. But we stuck at it. Within six months, the stares stopped, people became friendlier, and we began to feel part of the Redruth community.

    Redruth felt different from other places I’d lived. Truro was busy by day but dead by night, nowhere to really connect or find “your people.” Newquay was the opposite: lively to the point of chaos for at least half the year. (I still tell the story of my son and me encountering a man in a mankini and gimp mask at 10am on a Sunday morning.)

    Here in Redruth, once you’re in, you’re basically in. You will never be a “local” in some people’s eyes, unless your parents were born here, but you can walk down the street and see familiar faces. Your “tribe” can include people with very different views from your own. You’re no longer stuck in a Facebook echo chamber; you get to know people as whole human beings, not just by the things they disagree with.

    But the longer I lived here, the more I realised that not everyone experienced it that way. Redruth can be quite siloed, people often stick to their own areas and circles. And let’s be honest: Camborne and Redruth have never had the best reputation in Cornwall.

    Nothing was straightforward…

    That made the idea of “making Redruth better” feel complicated. I worried about gentrification, and I felt strongly that whatever happened here, it had to protect the things that make Redruth unique and special.

    And that is what drove me to join the Town Council.