Chapter 03: The Said and The Personal The Person

The nerves started to kick in just as I got off the bus just across the road from the estate. Although I was prepared and organised myself for the day ahead, I could not help but feel anxious knowing that I am going to undertake a more direct and personal approach to the case study; a completely different perspective, not just relying on the information that I have been gathering through a digital medium or through books. I remember the air being very cold, but the sky was blue and clear; The pavement was wet. The leaves were damp. I did not know what to expect. I did not know where to start, but I walked and walked anyway. As I walked through the East side of the Estate and seeing the west side of Brockwell Park to my right, I looked up, and to my left was a large photograph of a child that faced the park that is hang up on the side of one of the houses as shown in figure #. Confused; then I almost instantly realised the message that was being conveyed.

As I continued walking through the grounds a little further, I started to notice more and more of these portraits that is displayed in different locations of the estate. Then I remembered and recalled something that I have encountered once before; a similar narrative that has been done before at Robin Hood Gardens post-demolition and at Haggerston Estate in Hackney in an attempt to defend and save the estate by putting up portraits of the residents on the boarded-up windows of their respective homes. The photographs, as I came to understand after seeing them in person, were taken by Mark Aitken, a photographer and resident of Cressingham Gardens Estate who named the collection ‘Sanctum Ephemeral’.

The photographs gave those who have see them, indirect, but intimate access to the humanity that lives in those homes (Urban, 2017). As I gathered the confidence and thought of ways to respectfully approach those that live within the estate without being intrusive, I noticed a few dwellings that had flyers and posters that were up in the windowsill of some of the houses with the words ‘Save Cressingham’ written on them; a campaign slogan that have recurring use throughout the decade-long fight. Those posters encouraged me, and eventually decided that homes with those posters would be a good start to the conversation. As I approached one of the houses walking to the front door, a lady has just put the kettle on in her kitchen that was facing the front door as she noticed me; I waved.

Anne, a resident activist of Scarlett Manor Way at Cressingham Gardens Estate who jokingly laughed about just making a turmeric lemon drink as she welcomed me into her home that day. After briefly explaining my intentions to her for paying her and the estate a visit, she said that by visiting the estate in person, even with the aim of simply walking around the estate, I had already done the best thing a person can do to gain a deeper and better understanding of the site; an undertaking that the local council and its members has failed to even consider, while they continuously and obliviously question why the residents of the estate would go to great lengths to save it (Cooper, 2022). This has been a recurring subject that, not only Anne has highlighted throughout the interview, but also through my initial research as to how the people of Cressingham has been seriously misinformed and overlooked when it comes to the involvement in the matter. Anne has lived in the estate for 9 years coming from Stevenage, she made it very clear that, during the process of her moving into the flat that she currently resides in, she was not formally informed as to the plans for the estate prior to her decision to move; not directly from the council anyway. A year before Anne moved in to Cressingham Gardens, Lambeth Council has provided five options or proposals concerning the future of the estate (as mentioned in Chapter 02); for over a decade, there has been a common occurrence that the council seemingly wanted to reassure the residents of the estate that they will take their stances, voices, and decisions into consideration when the council has clearly already made up their minds right from the start. The fact that most of their attempts to involve the people were all just for show and publicity. A view that Anne felt very strongly about (Cooper, 2022).

Anne also expressed her deep concern for what happens when homes in the estate are left empty and derelict, and the many ways that these situations have been taken advantage of by the wrong people. Anne explained to me that when word goes out that there is an empty flat in the estate, either because a family has moved out or a resident has passed away, there have been multiple instances where unwarranted parties have occurred until early morning. On top of that, Anne also expressed her concern for drug use in and around the area, sometimes even on the street that she currently resides in, where certain homes are left unattended and vacant. She believed that it is caused by ‘managed decline’ and emphasised the similarities of what is currently happening to the NHS (Cooper, 2022).

The poor management of these properties have had a serious impact on the standards of living, not only of the houses that has been left derelict, but residents who now have to deal with the repercussions of poor administration and governance. Another recurring subject that residents of Cressingham Gardens constantly bring up is very poor maintenance of the estate. Eileen O’Keefe, a resident of Cressingham Gardens states that there has been very little investment in the area from the beginning. She, and other residents alike, have complained to the council about specific issues such as the wooden windows that were the original windows since the estate’s completion. She highlighted how in the first 15 years; they have only been painted once over rotting wood (O’Keefe, 2016). Also, when they do complain to the council about such concerns, they don’t get the help and consultation that they require and would often take a while to actually tackle the problem. On top of that, when they do eventually do something about it, the issue is further amplified and is already far worse than before because of the time wasted from waiting (O’Keefe, 2016).

Although it is hard to say and unfair to assume that it is a manipulative, strategic approach to the matter. Whether it is a subconscious ploy or not, it should not be taken lightly. This idea of local authorities’ lack of attention to areas that need it the most, has been a recurring issue when it comes to social housing. From Robin Hood Gardens to Aylesbury Estate, these areas have been subject to scapegoating into the narrative of ‘disrepair’ and ‘crime’; which, in most cases, are far from the actual truth. And it is no surprise that there are similarities to what is currently happing to Cressingham Gardens Estate to this day. Because of multiple instances where their uncertainties of constantly questioning the people that randomly reside in empty homes, Anne, and most of her neighbours, have constantly felt unsafe when these things happen; and rightly so. Anne also explained how it is not necessarily healthy mentally to be flooded with these questions and uncertainly of the future. Not just because of random people that reside near her home, but the fate of the estate as a whole. The mental well-being of being in the estate has definitely declined of the years, due to factors not of their own making whatsoever (Cooper, 2022).

After mentioning Michael, a resident whom I have encountered multiple times through research and watching interviews that I could find online about Cressingham Gardens and the fight; Anne mentioned how he recently just passed away. Michael O’Keefe was a resident who have lived in the estate for more than 40 years and Anne highlighted how he was a big part of the movement. The figure below is a photograph of Mr. O’Keefe taken by Mike Aitken as part of his photographic collection of Cressingham Gardens called ‘Sanctum Ephemeral’. I encountered that photograph after leaving Anne’s home and felt a sudden sadness upon seeing it knowing what I had just found out. With that said, Anne voiced how with people passing away who once lived in the estate, or simply moving on, then creates a double dilemma. As sad it is when someone leaves their home, this then results in another vacant place that wrong people can and will take advantage of like I have mentioned before (Cooper, 2022).

On a slightly positive note, Anne was an absolute pleasure to have had a conversation with. Upon asking her for her personal experiences living in the estate since moving in back in 2013, she reminisced about just how much she loves her current home, her block, and the neighbourhood. Contrary to general stereotypes about council housing and just from walking around the estate,

I felt a deep sense of community and belonging. Almost every single person I encountered has politely smiled or greeted me. Anne mentioned how she left that the idea of not being able to trust your neighbours with your keys when you need someone to quickly go get you some medicine when you are ill for example, are under-threat of being ripped away from them. A melancholy feeling suddenly hit me when Anne disclosed how the home she currently lives in in the estate will very much be her last home, but she reassured me that she meant that in a positive way which further emphasises her deep connection to her home. As a result, the very idea of being uprooted and moved elsewhere saddened Anne. She then spoke to me about how incredibly open the community is, and that she’s always experienced a sense of safety. I have just caught her the day before she flies off on holiday, and she said that before I came, she was about to do her Christmas cards for the neighbourhood and further explain that, not only was she doing it to say thank you, but also because her neighbours can easily tell when a fellow neighbour is out of the house. A stark contrast to where she used to live back in Stevenage, she outlined (Cooper, 2022). Having grown up in the Philippines for my early childhood years, I felt such deep connection to what Anne had told me, about feeling a sense of safety and trust with your neighbours.

We would even go as far as exchanging food across the street and my parents asking close neighbours to look after me and my brother when my parents had plans to go out. These things, in my opinion, are what makes Cressingham Gardens worth saving, along with other estates of a similar nature. It’s not always about the building fabric and the physical building, it is about what people do with the space and homes and community that they have built over time; memories they have made.

Additionally, Anne highlighted just how diverse her street alone was; with an openly gay man called Shaun at the end of the street, a Muslim family and residents with Afro-Caribbean heritage. Some residents, Anne informed me, have lived at Cressingham Gardens since 1978 when the estate was officially opened. Living in the estate for that long most definitely increases the desire to want to stay, especially those who have passed on their homes to their children (Cooper, 2022)

Anne is one whose voice speaks for most people who feel, and whose views are parallel to hers, especially her fellow neighbours. She kindly gave me with a book that she has published herself titled “306: Living Under the Shadows of Regeneration”. The book perfectly encapsulates the idea of collective memory and is a testament to the voices of the residents and their tenacity, “despite being driven to contemplate choices not of their own making” (Cooper, 2017).

I have picked out a few lines from the book written by other residents of Cressingham Gardens that, I feel, needs to be heard.

We both saw the estate as our own corner of Paradise

There’s a strong Carribean culture, with other cultures mixed into it

...seeing all the grees spaces and thinking: just lovely.

I’ve always cherished it. People say this is lovely place I can say... YES, IT’S MINE!