birmingham youth narratives
As Europe’s youngest city, what is Birmingham’s youth culture heritage? How have young people shaped England’s second city, its landscape and society? And what stories do young Brummies want to hear about their city? The Museum of Youth Culture teamed up with We Don’t Settle to consider these questions, culminating in a collection of stories about Brum.
As kindred organisations, we are committed to platforming youth voices in the heritage sector. Bringing together ten young people, we commissioned each of them to collect a story they felt important about the city’s youth heritage. Together they paint a picture of Birmingham’s rich cultural history, from traders on the famous Bullring rag market to the contemporary electronic music and DIY punk scenes. Each story, shaped by both the interviewee and the interviewer, offers an exciting dialogue around our shared heritage.
We Don’t Settle is committed to working with communities of empowered young people who are minoritised by society, systems and structures. We cultivate creativity, embrace cultures, and we live and breathe heritage.
Find out more on their website and Instagram
This project was made possible with funding from the National Lottery Heritage Fund, with thanks from Lottery Players! Part of Amplified Voices.
Special thanks to Amari, Emily, Henry, Iyi, Jess, Lauren, Shaista, Shaniece and Zeina for their brilliant work on this project.
collection of stories
amari interviews nadeem
I’m Amari Yogendran, a freelance writer and photographer based in London. I love to photograph and write about stories that aren’t being recognised in traditional media outlets - overlooked, ordinary people, who form the important corners of the fabric of our society. I was first attracted to this project as an opportunity to tell the story of someone living in Birmingham, a city I've loved since graduating from university there in 2022. Attending University for many, can be a transient experience where students are in their ‘student bubble’ for three to four years before moving on without getting to experience the Brum outside of the bubble, the Brum that I fell in love with in my first year at university in 2017.
For my project, I chose to photograph and interview Nadeem Afthib, a stall vendor and owner of shop Fly Vintage within the infamous Bullring Rag Market. To me this is an extraordinary story of how a fashion-forward, Pakistani stall vendor was born and made in Small Heath in the 1980s. We touch on themes of heritage, family, racism & second hand clothing. I’d love to see more of these ordinary yet extraordinary stories of everyday people that form the fabric of Birmingham.
Emily interviews Bradley
I’m Emily Clare, a spoken word performer and community theatre actor/director, who moved to Birmingham at the age of 18 and found it was the first place I lived that felt like home. I was able to flourish as a creative and in myself in ways I couldn’t before. Due to this, I felt drawn to take part in this project as I was interested in whether the young people of Birmingham felt a sense of belonging in the same way I did when I found home here. I met Bradley through the spoken word scene in Birmingham, and was fascinated and inspired by the unique way he combines comedy with incredibly poignant messages in his poetry. In this interview we discuss Bradleys upbringing, the people around him and the city who shaped him and his poetry, and his experience of being the very welcome ‘oddball’ amongst his peers.
Henry interviews Lexi
I'm Henry, an artist and photographer based in Birmingham. My interest in documenting British subcultures led to me naturally applying to work with the Museum of Youth Culture and We Don't Settle. I decided to interview the lovely Lexi, one half of the radical activist punk band Transistrrr in order to better understand the punk scene and Trans activism in Birmingham. The conversation documents the experience of growing up as part of the punk scene, as well as the power of music as a voice for progress.
My name is Momoyioluwa Olatokun and I am a graphic designer from Nigeria who grew up in the midlands. Art has always been a huge passion of mine as a method of escapism from the repetitive nature of life in the Midlands. Visual and fine art are my main forms of expression ranging from garment creation to painting. Therefore, it was essential to understand how people acquire careers within the creative industry coming from restrictive backgrounds where artistry is unintentionally inhibited as a result of inaccessibility or financial constraint.
Therefore when entering the “Birmingham Youth Narrative” project with the Museum of Youth Culture and We Don't Settle, it was vital to understand how the artist Alice Askew created opportunities for herself growing up in Birmingham. And which inspirations and circumstances led her to become a well established special effects artist, sculptor and creative at such a young age.
Jess interviews Anon
I’m part Chinese and British, I have spent half my life in Hong Kong and the rest in Birmingham. Despite growing up in a post-colonial island, the move to UK/Birmingham was still a huge culture shock for me. And it wasn’t until I started going to raves, did I find a sense of belonging; so this is why I chose to do my project on the music scene based around Digbeth.
I chose a music producer with an Irish/Italian background because what makes Birmingham so magical is the ‘super diverse’ citizens. It emphasises despite our differences, there are common things in life which bring us a sense of joy, and happiness and make up parts of our multifaceted identities. The rave scene offered me a sense of freedom and permission to rebel, and creatively express myself. I am currently coming towards the end of my training as a therapist, identity work and how we find a sense of connection and belonging under oppressive colonial structures has become a huge focus and passion of mine – this is why I gravitated towards this project with We Don’t Settle/ MOYC.
Lauren interviews Dek One
I’m Lauren, a curious and culturally driven young person from Swansea. I moved to Birmingham when I was 18 for University, excited to explore the city’s rich cultural sites and stories. Naturally, I was delighted when I came across this opportunity – to really delve into a story of youth culture in a big city, and the freedom to explore any avenue I wished.
The week before I began the project, I went to see the fantastic exhibition ‘Acid Jazz and Other Illicit Grooves’ in Birmingham’s ‘Centrala’ space, as it toured around the country. In the following Q&A, I was enchanted by the history of acid jazz in Birmingham. I heard from people who lived through the era, and reminisced about the awesome, culturally-fused club nights at which they danced for hours.
After this inspiration, I set out to interview someone who lived through this era – and experienced the nights I’d heard so much about. Coincidentally, while on my search, I came across the wonderful, crate-digging and music loving DJ DEK ONE. We began chatting and I knew he was the person I wanted to recount these nights for me, so we set up our interview. We chatted for hours about music, culture, fashion, art and everything in between – exploring the spaces which connect us across the city. Our interview looked at the way that life experiences and interests of our youth shape the rest of our lives, as well as how these connect us to unlikely allies.
Shaista interviews David
Art - in all its forms - has helped me find a deeper connection to the world. I’ve always found words particularly powerful, seemingly finding myself gravitating to biographical pieces. There’s something grounding in telling your story in your own words. Naturally, the Birmingham Youth Narratives project appealed.
Birmingham’s landscape is incredibly eclectic - with pockets of the city boasting scenic green landscapes, and neighbouring areas a stone's throw away concrete and built-up. I’ve always wondered how growing up in a particular area can contribute identity formation and characterisations of “home”.
I interviewed David Baldwin, a Cinema Producer for the much-loved Midlands Arts Centre in Birmingham. In our conversation, David explores the deep impact his neighbourhood had on his life choices and well-being growing up, as well as his career trajectory. The interview also touches upon generational attitudes and lived experience of mental health.
Shaniece interviews Jemima
I’m Shaniece, a poet and spoken word artist in the midlands whose poetry looks to give voice to those less heard in society. My work as a poet and spoken word artist who looks to tell stories through the written and spoken word inspired me to join the ‘Birmingham Youth Narratives’ project with Museum of Youth Culture and We Don’t Settle. As part of the project I interviewed Birmingham born spoken word artist Jemima Hughes whose poetry emphasises mental health awareness and covers taboo subjects such as sexual violence, mental illness, and suicide. The interview discusses Jemima’s upbringing and childhood in outer-city Birmingham and explores the way in which the Birmingham poetry scene offered Jemima a space to feel heard and at home.
Zeina interviews Julia
Born and raised in Birmingham, I’ve always been an avid storyteller. I loved being surrounded by such a wide array of people, from all walks of life. I’m fascinated by how people think and what events in someone's life caused them to become the person they are today. I was drawn to the project for this exact reason.
When I did this interview, I wanted to focus on identity. What traits and experiences you choose to define yourself by. You know? What’s important to you? Are you more connected to your hometown or the place you’ve lived in longer? This was how I came to interview Julia. An advocate and HR advisor with a background in acting, who spent years in London before returning to the place she grew up. I was curious about how things had changed for her and what was different about her childhood compared to kids now.
transcript
Zeina: Let’s start with growing up in Birmingham. What’s different now, when you see kids walking around?
Julia: Okay, so, the main difference to when I grew up, cause I was born in 1972, so we’re talking late seventies early eighties. When I was little, but big enough to ride my bike, I was out all day. I was down the Dingles and parks and we’d come back in to eat. But now what I see is children being ferried around in cars and I don’t see children sort of wading through the River Cole, which I did, or trying to find little insects. So I think… I think my childhood was a lot free-er although I didn’t have half as much as what kids today seem to have. Now; I grew up poor, we weren’t rich at all. Everything was by hook or by crook, one way or another, but we managed. We got hand me down dresses from the neighbours round the corner. I’ve got my older sister’s hand me downs, but they’d come from the two girls round the corner. But we were happy, do you know what I mean? I didn’t know I didn’t have stuff. It didn’t occur to me that I don’t have anything massive, I mean I was very jealous of my friend Debbie who had the full Cindy house and all the various Cindy’s to go with it; I had a Cindy from a jumble sale. But again, it didn’t really occur.
And I walked everywhere, like I walked to school. I grew up 15 minutes from here but I left at 19 for London and didn’t come back for 22 years. So I’m in the same place but I’ve done a big loop. But, I think kids today are a lot more restricted than I was.
Zeina: More access but not as much time, or the freedom to explore that.
Julia: Exactly, we had a lot more autonomy. It wasn't ‘It’s so much more dangerous now’. It’s not. When I was 11/12/13, you would run through the part of the Dingles you had to go through, ‘The Gulley’, to get home from school, cause you knew the Dingles had ‘Flashers’. Only this year now recognised as an actual sexual crime. Back then it was just ‘Oh they’re Flashers’. So, there was danger back then… but we had more freedom. And I don’t know whether there’s more danger now.
Zeina: More awareness perhaps.
Julia: Yeah. Lot’s of things would happen in the day, near you that you would never have known about. Whereas now you know about it. My secondary school was a 2 mile walk, and you’d pick up friends along the way. A lot more freedom in the seventies. That’s the main difference. And you could live in your own bubble, you found out by talking to somebody.
When I lived in London for 25 years, you didn’t look at people, you didn’t talk to people. You know, the whole etiquette of, you don’t even catch someone’s eye on the tube. As well as not standing to the right on the escalator.
Zeina: What was different about being in London versus Birmingham?
Julia: London you're always running to stand still, unless you’re very very rich or have a very very very well paying job. And you can’t see sky, you can’t see the horizon. When I came back to Birmingham it was almost like I could breathe, like there was space. And there's sky and there’s green and people are friendlier. So that was nice.
And I’d be on the tube and everybody looked grey. Going to work, standing with my nose stuck under somebody else's armpit but if you looked around, everybody looked tired, everybody looked drab, everybody looked ‘grey’. And, I was looking at everybody and they, like me, were going to work and I thought, ‘You all look ill. We don’t look well!’ So, yeah, I think London is a city that, unless you grow up there, if you move there you will possibly move away because it constantly renews. It’s fabulous in your twenties. And it is, there’s lots of things to do but it wears you out over time. And then you move out and it’s good because the new ones come behind you. It’s a very transient city. I think if you were born there you’ve got tentacles into the community. In London you could go out on a Friday night and come back on a Monday morning, going from place to place.
Zeina: What is the difference between hobbies you had as a young person to what people do now?
Julia: When I was about 7 or 8 I started dancing. I started with Latin and ballroom and if only I’d carried on because you know Strictly is big now and I can only just about waltz. I got sidelined into disco dancing and, oh, so embarrassing. I thought disco dancing was it, it’d be around forever so I stopped the Latin and ballroom. Now…so there were various events in disco dancing and I went to classes every week on a Saturday and then you’d be off on a coach somewhere on a Sunday for a competition. Terribly embarrassing, we did all this for little plastic trophies that stood on blocks of marble, cost a fortune to do this and that’s what you did it for. You can see why it didn’t last, look at the sequins.
When I was 15 I got asked by my doubles partner, Sue, her older sister to be in her theatre company’s production of ‘Cabaret’ the musical. Because Sue’s sister had been running a theatre company since she was 16 and she needed dancers. So me and Sue said ‘Oh okay, we’ll be dancers in your Kit Kat Club for you’; and I really enjoyed it. Sue just did the dancing but I really liked it. Which led to a newspaper article with a photo of me in costume in Chamberlain Square and we sang all the ‘Kit Kat Club’ songs from the play to crowds that gathered. At the time I thought, ‘Oh it’s because we’re so good’ whereas now I look at it and go ‘Well it’s because we’re ‘Kit Kat girls’ and we’re all in suspenders, fishnets, camis and high heels’. There was also a review of it in a different newspaper.
After Cabaret, I carried on doing loads of shows, Grease for example. I actually got mentioned in this review, I was very proud of myself. I did shows at the Midlands Arts Centre (the MAC), at first it was called ‘PD Theatre Company’ which then became ‘Stage 2’. I did that for about 2 or 3 years and then I got a place at drama school which is what took me to London. I didn’t end up being an actor, I’m okay on the stage but it turns out I’m camera shy. 20 years earlier, I would have been fine because there were still repertory theatres around. But I had 3 years of fun, which not a lot of people can say about their degree. I spent 3 years in whalebone corsets for period pieces, I learnt how to stage fight with sword and dagger. My teacher said I looked a bit like I was dancing, others looked a bit more deadly but I still passed. So I had a great 3 years. I don’t know whether kids do things like this anymore. I was so focused on ‘Stage 2’, I was always rehearsing a show, or doing a show, or promoting a show, or preparing for the next show. It was very structured.
I understand why my mum kept me in these things because my dad died when I was 13. And doing the dancing and amateur theatre stuff… I think it took a lot of pressure off my mum because I was out of the house a lot. After he died we were all a bit shell shocked. At the time it was too much to think about, so something as regimented as that just pulled you through. So I think that’s why I did it. None of my school friends knew my dance & theatre friends. It was a completely separate world and you could be who you wanted to be. I wasn’t very popular in school, I just kept my head down.
But I did a lot of jobs. I think 11 was when I had my first job. I was pattern cutting for one of my mum’s friends and you had to cut them so correctly cause they were gonna go off to places and be used to manufacture clothing. So I did that at 11 just to make a little bit of money and then I did paper rounds. Then, as soon as I turned 16, I got a job at ‘Druckers’ bakery. Get to work on a Saturday at 6am, work until about 9am, get a 15 minute break then you’d work until 12pm. Small cakes before the break then black forest gateau after. I still can’t really go near a black forest gateau to this day. I’ve made so many of them. But I’ve always worked, always busy. As soon as I was 18, I worked in a pub, because you could make more money. So I didn’t really have time to socialise outside my own organised activities as it were. I was doing GCSEs then A Levels, working and doing theatre so…I was busy.
I mean, I know covid has had a huge effect. But, like, I know my nephews and the 16 year old basically stays in his bedroom, which I know is a teenage boy thing. But his entire world is online and he doesn’t go outside. Now, he is a red head so he does burn the moment the sun comes out, you know there is some reason for that but he probably knows more people that he talks to through his headset than I ever did. But the relationships I had, I mean doing these shows was amazing. I look back on them with such fond and happy memories and I’m thinking, well, will he look back in 20 years time…I mean I’ve kept these photos and articles because they bring back lovely memories. I wonder if he’ll look back 20 years from now and remember the names of the people?
Even though it was awful that my dad died, which is obviously horrible…but other than that (laughter) which is the only way I can say it. I found my own things. I think I found the dancing and I found the theatre but thankfully my mum supported it cause god, she did have to drive me everywhere. Everywhere. And she always came to the shows, you know? So I think kids have it a bit worse today. I think they don’t have access to live experiences, and that’s partly because of the pandemic. The whole ‘living online’ has been accelerated during the pandemic. But it would be awful if we lost it along the way. Especially when you’re younger because that’s when you can try things and have a go at something. And if it’s not you then it’s not you, okay try something else. It’s the freedom to have a go, be awful, be okay, be great, whatever. Doesn’t matter. And I think, me doing all this, does take you out of just focusing on education because I think that limits you. I think you need life experience. If you can get it.
Now you do my degree, theatre? Useless. I had all my tuition fees paid because drama school was expensive. I also had a maintenance grant. Not a big one! But I was lucky, because now if you’re thinking about university, you have to think ‘What subject am I gonna do, that guarantees me a job of a certain value that can pay off the debt. So now, the thought of education for education’s sake. To learn and discover about yourself. Gone. So now we do live in a Great Britain where everything’s for business so you better study something that can generate money. But let us move away from politics. Yeah, there’s a lot being lost. I’m making it sound like my childhood was some beautiful time. But we all do that. Looking back it’s always easy.
Zeina: Maybe a little more fun. Because you weren’t expected to think about things as much.
Julia: Yeah, you just worry about what was important at the time. Now there’s far too much pressure. There’s too many tests as kids go through school. All you’re learning is how to take a test. We all have advantages and disadvantages based on what we were taught at the time. And it changes. And mistakes were made. My sister was taught to spell everything phonetically before properly which meant she’s never been able to spell anything in her entire life. Because she had to learn a system before the real system. Which then confused her, and that didn’t last long but it all has an effect. We have to think, ‘Is it worth knowing all your times tables? Does it bring anything other than knowing the answer? Is there any more value?’ And there might be, I’m not an educator. Trigonometry? Did loads of it. Algebra? Loads of it. Could I explain compound interest to you? No.
Zeina: While we’re on the subject of school, what’s different now versus then?
Julia: Well we were very ‘of the 80s’. Which meant…well now I hear if you go into the toilets at a secondary school there are people vaping. We were smoking. So that’s an improvement? Kids shouldn’t vape. But, I don’t know. I mean, we had time to learn. I loved English, great teachers. Had a fabulous French teacher. And we weren’t tested as much. Yes there was the same thing in Geography of: ‘Why do I need to know the Great Rift Valley?’. You know. There were a lot of things that haven’t turned out to be applicable to my life but I enjoyed school. School was just what you did. We were just - I mean there was a lot of inter-school bullying, threats. Getting the bus home, which I did in my 4th year (aged 14-15). But it was dangerous to be at that bus stop because some of the kids from other schools might have decided they were gonna come beat up kids from mine that day. So I think there was more violence. Yeah. I mean, my sister, who’s only 18 months older than me, had a board rubber thrown at her head. Now that would be an ‘I’ll see you in court’. It just wouldn’t happen. I think…I don’t know, it’s weird. I think we were more alive but it was all a bit more rough around the edges I suppose. Things are a lot more controlled now. It was less stressful, maybe. We certainly didn’t live in a time like now when people are more polarised for their opinions. It’s become fractious to have a debate. People don’t debate anymore. One person goes ‘I think this’ and the other goes ‘Well I think this’ and that’s it. Conversation has all gotten a bit more antagonistic now.
Zeina: Less violent but more hostile? They’re quicker to anger now but less likely to punch you in the face.
Julia: Yes. Back when I was in school, my friend Sue was at Handsworth Grammar and they got stuck in their school during the 1980s riots. She couldn’t get out. Couldn’t get out of the school, let alone back to her home. And I remember walking down the street during the late 70s, early 80s. It was the time of punk and they looked scary. They probably weren’t.
Now everyone looks modernised. Everybody seems the same. People were more obvious. But there was a lot more racism. A lot more overt racism anyway and the sexism was overt. I remember walking to my friend’s house. Lots of times you’d be walking down the street as a teenage girl and a car would slow next to you to say ‘How much?’. By the time I was 16, I was getting pretty pissed off by this. By this time I was in my full goth phase, so I had this long hippy skirt with a biker jacket, all in black and you’d just think, I remember turning around and going ‘Do I look like a hooker?’. You had to deal with that everyday. Building sites? Honestly, the abuse that you had to tolerate in my youth. And I don’t think everyone has changed. I think the people who said those things before still think those things, they just don’t say them. Whether it’s racism or misogyny or whatever. I think it’s gone underground which, to me, is in some ways worrying because now they’re festering online. In groups going ‘No one likes me and it’s all a woman’s fault’, ignoring the fact that they don’t get out of their basement or do anything to make themself interesting. It’s always someone else's fault. They’d be out on the street, hurling abuse when I was a kid. Now they do nasty things online. So I don’t think attitudes have…well I’d like to think some attitudes have changed.
Zeina: Some people have just stopped saying it.
Julia: Or not, as my mother had always called black people ‘Coloured’ her entire life. Could not get her to correct herself because, when she grew up, that’s what you said. And she was very right wing. I think she was very disappointed that she gave birth to a liberal. My mother was very right wing. Very conservative. Very racist. Very judgemental. A conversation for her was giving you her opinion. She never changed. So I think I was always a bit of a shock to her. She didn’t like it when I called her a fascist, which I did on occasion. But, you know, she was born in 1941 so she was around for the Blitz. There are generational gaps that I don’t think can be breached because your life experience and theirs is so drastically different. This’ll freak you out. My grandmother was born in 1896 so my mum had very Victorian values because her mother had been around in Victorian times. Quite literally! So a lot of my mum’s attitudes were very entrenched in a different century from her’s. My mum’s sister was 16 years older than her so when I was born, my cousins already had jobs. I think with older people, you don’t know their entire life story, you don’t know where their life has taken them and I think not engaging in certain conversations is far preferable to arguing if what they think is so reprehensible in the modern age. Pick your battles. As long as someone isn’t so horrendously awful (I wouldn’t have anything to do with them if they were). It’s a different age, a different generation and they grew up with a completely different experience. You know, they’re your family and they’re not always going to be there so find the nice things that you do enjoy hearing about from them. Again…and again. But different experiences, both of my Nans were old when I met them. They were little old ladies. Now people have grandmother’s who are 50! We need to always remember to give people room for their experiences and appreciate that that might be why they are coming at things like that. Unless you’re gonna add something to the argument that’s never been said before, you might as well not say anything because you’ll just go round in circles. You can’t change anybody. You can only change yourself. The phrase I always use is ‘I’ve nothing to add’. And I just say it quietly in my head, because it gives me permission to not say anything. But that’s negotiating.
I’m glad that people are being made to think about this more because you can only change yourself. And I generally move away from the people I do not want to engage with. Be safe, that’s all that matters. I could have been more conservative, with the parents I had, but being in these amateur theatre companies gave me more information. I became more politically aware after that.