Never Knowingly NIMBY-ed here


Crouch End is rapidly becoming the home of personal and political insurrection.

The clock has just turned Post Brexit. 450 worried remainers and the odd leaver throng the town hall to hear Catherine West MP suggest what may and what may not be done next week. The police are in attendance to assure there is no Jo Cox here but also to pronounce on what can be done on race hate crime. Incidents have been reported here and in Muswell Hill. Name calling. The new classic; “We voted leave – what you still doing here?” We decide to go to the Unity protest in Parliament Square. 50,000 people saying Woe. Bean models a leaflet

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Tick tock. Weeks pass. A Don’t Sell Our Green protest has been called outside the Town Hall. Froth and Ferment. I’m not so sure about this one. My punk sensibilities deride the hippies who come sit on the grass when the sun shines; my animal sensitivity is enhanced when I see snotty kids chasing pigeons that I normally wouldn’t have any time for and besides you know you’re average native Crouch Ender; well, they do raise the smell of NIMBYism and I’ve never knowlingly NIMBY-ed here.

That said it is grass, there are trees, we all know about the water table and what happens when paving over gets paved over. And why build a Piazza? Don’t we have enough coffee opportunities already. So, I’m undecided. Good thing, bad thing, couldn’t care less thing. But hats off to the organisers, a hurrah for the campaigners. Always speak up, always speak out. Here’s some campaigners. Here’s some style. Sometimes a photo can look risible.
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And now to Bean’s campaign. Next door is to be demolished and to be replaced by a block of flats. Should I fuss myself with this one. In days gone by when next door on the other side of our block was proposed as a homeless hostel. I stood against the campaigners who were saying no. It was class nimbyism at its worse. Nasty stereotypes of homeless people dived and dagged in the ether. I guess this demonstrates my approach to NIMBYism. If its for a community, a marginalised group. I won’t NIMBY. I won’t side with the outraged gobshite of Tunbridge Wells fame. They’ve got what they want and they’re not so special.

Whereas the block development. Well, its still hard for me not to have some sympathy for people who want to develop their homes, sell up and move on; loaded. But look at the map. This is a conservation area. Its a green thing we live in. Conservation has to mean something. Ecological preservation man. I’ve been flying flags on facebook lately. CND, Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth next. These associations used to mean something to me. I’ve sat in the streets for this. I’ve saluted Swampy. It really doesn’t bother me that another block of flats is going up. It bothers me that the trees are coming down. It bothers me that the reasons for the siting of the conservation area, ie, the protection of Victorian buildings from demolition, is to be unlocked, dismantled and broken down. So, I salute Beanie. I salute her energy. I salute her leaflets (partly write them), her passion for petition and I was so glad to accidentally introduce her to the Chair of Planning. The revolution may not be televised, but I can hear the voices of the active and I say Go Buddy Go Buddy Go Go Go.

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1 Comment »

  1. […] post below, ‘Never Knowingly Nimby-ed Here‘ is about the struggle to decide whether or not to get involved in taking action, the […]

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