Water Fountains and Helicopters
I went training alone at Barn Elms athletics track one evening last week, and arrived to find a dozen or so teenage boys (decked out in the archetypal 'chav' regalia of hooded top, tracksuit trouser and fake jewellery) holding court in one corner of the track. Two of them had mopeds, and were riding them around the track, helmetless, when I ducked under the fence to begin my session.
My hackles were up as I jogged towards the posse on my warm-up lap, and I was already cooking up retorts to the abuse that was bound to be hurled and spat my way as I passed them in a vest and skimpy shorts. But none came, and the boys kept themselves to themselves.
After a few more laps in the evening sun, and a great deal more sweat, one of the boys approached on a mountain bike that was too small for him. I braced myself. "'Ere, mate", he said, taking a hand off the bars and angling the peak his baseball cap to block out the glare, "are we gettin' in the way of you runnin'? Just say if we are, and we'll 'ead somewhere else." I smiled spontaneously, thinking of the space I had as a kid, growing up in the countryside. My brother and I had a whole valley, almost to ourselves. "Of course not."
And then, a few minutes later, something utterly surreal happened. A police helicopter swooped low over the nearby trees and circled twice around the boys twice, so slowly that it was almost hovering, before scudding off towards the horizon. I blinked in disbelief, then ran on.
I was done after an hour and sat by the edge of the track with a towel and a drinks bottle. A different kid in a hoodie came up on a scooter. "Mate, is there a water fountain near here?" There wasn't, of course, and the tragedy of the situation struck me instantly. England (and perhaps the world) could do with a few more water fountains, and a few less police helicopters.
— Filed under Rumination, Schools/Education