How city tours can help tackle homelessness

.An Invisible Cities tour in Edinburgh. Image: Luke Bennett.

We love local recommendations about city destinations; that secretive cafe hidden down an alleyway, or a stunning park a stones throw away from the city centre. Tours run by locals allow us to see a city through the eyes of those who live and breathe it.  

This is the philosophy of Invisible Cities, a social enterprise that trains homeless people to become walking tour guides. It believes that those who have spent the most time on a city’s streets are the best people to tell its stories.

By providing mentoring and training with professional guides and storytellers, workshops on public speaking and first aid, Invisible Cities is helping people to get back on their feet.

In York, the training process for Invisible Cities is in full swing. Tours on a variety of subjects, including the city’s railway heritage and its famous snickelways and alleyways, are set to begin in June. Here tour guides practice with volunteers and make use of individual mentors helping them to research their tours.

In addition to providing homeless people with employment, Invisible Cities also invest in projects designed to help the wider homeless community. The organisation delivered Christmas presents to 150 homeless people in Scotland in 2018, and has also donated to the Street Barber in Edinburgh, which provides free haircuts and shaves to homeless men.

An Invisible Cities tour in Edinburgh. Image: Luke Bennett.

Paul is one of the beneficiaries of Invisible Cities. His Edinburgh-based tour, Leith: The Trainspotting Generation has been running since January 2018. “Doing the research for my tours was amazing – and has piqued an interest in gaining full-time employment in this field… I have recently attended interviews with eight production companies, including the BBC.” After talking with a representative from Edinburgh City of Literature, a UNESCO trust, Paul has decided to write a book. 


Invisible Cities tours also provide an indication of places in the UK that have high numbers of homeless people. In York, figures released by the Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government revealed that the number of homeless people living on the streets rose by 61 per cent in 2018, three times the average for the Yorkshire and Humber area.

Kenny Lieske, director of Good Organisation, an Invisible Cities partner in York, explained that “a quarter of all the homeless people who died in the region in 2017 died in York, equating to 11 deaths in a single year, which is one of the reasons we were so keen to team up with Invisible Cities to launch a practical project to support local homeless people.”

York’s high homelessness figures sit in stark contrast to its booming tourism industry. Over seven million people visit the city each year, with tourism contributing £600 million annually to its local economy.

Cities including Oxford, Bristol and Cardiff have registered interest in the project, and the organisation has plans to launch in a city outside of the UK in the next few years. As the UK witnesses rising levels of homelessness, Invisible Cities is providing a unique model to tackle an increasingly common urban crisis.

 
 
 
 

Why aren’t working class people living in cities also “left behind”?

The metropolitan elite. Image: Getty.

If you have hammer, everything’s a nail. The hammer for much of Britain’s political class and commentators is Brexit, which is meant to explain everything from social mobility to the north-south divide to attitudes to immigration to public transport investment.

However, a huge amount is lost in this sort of analysis. One particular casualty is our understanding of working-class communities. This is particularly striking in the presentation of London as being a Remain stronghold inhabited by metropolitan elites.

In fact, the reality is that working class communities, especially in cities, have been just as “left behind” as those elsewhere in the UK. Even 72 people dying in the Grenfell Tower tragedy, a preventable fire which happened within sight of Parliament, hasn’t dislodged the dominant narrative of London as a leafy cosmopolitan elite bubble.

The lazy and reductive “London is cosmopolitan elite” narrative extends well beyond the far right. This shorthand gathers into one category people who have a second home in Provence, and outsourced gig economy workers who live in Hackney. By flattening such diversity into catch-all terms, we erase the existence of working class Londoners, ethnic minorities and migrants.

The facts are stark – London has some of the highest poverty, highest pollution, and largest working class community in all of the UK. Seven of the top 11 local authorities in terms of child poverty are in London, while the capital records the highest level of air pollution in the country.

Yet the statistics are airily dismissed because a majority London residents voted Remain in the EU referendum – and remainers, of course, are all elite, especially if they live in London. By such magic thinking, three in four black people in Britain become elite because they voted to remain in the EU, a point that should perhaps give pause to even the doughtiest proponent of the everything-is-Brexit theory.

Despite our national obsession about class, Britain already had an impoverished understanding and narrative on the topic even before Brexit. Why aren’t the ethnic minority and migrant people who live in tower blocks and experience disproportionate levels of child poverty (rising to 59 per cent for Bangladeshi children) viewed as working class? Why aren’t those living in cities, or who die in preventable fires also “left behind”?

One answer is it doesn’t suit a narrative that wants to make everything about Brexit, and that only addresses class when the context is Brexit. Another is that recognising that many ethnic minorities are also working-class is not helpful when your aim is to prosecute a different argument: that Britain needs “tougher” immigration policies.

At its most extreme, this argument ties into the longstanding narrative that only white people can be British or live in Britain. Of course, this is a narrative that divides working class communities and blames ethnic minorities and migrants for all of society’s ills.

It also has a direct policy effect. It is easier to justify cuts to public services if expenditure on those services is associated with “undeserving scroungers” who don’t really count as fellow citizens.

Recent research published by the Runnymede Trust and the Centre for Labour and Social Studies shows the wider effects of this narrative. The report’s title “We Are Ghosts” are the words of Henry, a working-class Londoner in his ‘60s living in Southwark and capture a wider sense of precariousness, neglect and lack of voice in the face of London’s ongoing gentrification.

Henry happens to be white – but his experience of injustice and prejudice is shared by people of colour interviewed for the same research. Where people engaged with public services, especially housing, policing and social care, they felt treated with indignity and indifference.

Decades of blaming the poor and migrant has led to a punitive culture within our public services which affects all working-class people, white or otherwise, as they see their voices and needs  being routinely ignored.

This is one reason why we need more locally devolved services: to strengthen working class, BME and migrant voices. Terms like “co-production” may sound thinktanky, but the aim is a democratic one: to ensure that those most affected by a service – such as housing services – or decision actually have a say in how that service is delivered.

Devolution isn’t just about putting more power in local rather than national government; it’s also about devolving power more directly to people, through community organisations and charities that are often better placed to represent and understand local needs and experiences.

The British working class has been multi-ethnic for centuries. Working class communities aren’t the same everywhere but they do experience the shared conditions of lack of resources, and lack of voice or power.

By always foregrounding Brexit when we talk about class, we not only miss these shared conditions among working class people across the UK, but deflect from the solutions that might actually address them.

If we’re serious about actually tackling race and class inequalities and prejudice, we need to put down the Brexit – or any other – hammer. Instead we need to change how we think and talk about race and class, invest more in the safety net, and redesign public services to provide those using them with greater dignity, voice and power.

Dr Omar Khan is director of the Runnymede Trust