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Maybe It’s Because I’m a Londoner

I realised yesterday that I have spent most of my life in London, from toddlerhood to 16, then from 24 until now. For the first three years of that eight year gap, while I was living in Canada, Scotland, Liverpool, Scotland again, Spain, Bolivia, more Scotland, Liverpool again, Manchester and elsewhere, London remained the family base. And not just London in general, either – specific bits, corralled into the west and slightly north, bordered by the Cromwell Road, Finchley Road, East Acton and Golder’s Green.

Since I returned independently to the city after years away, and after my family had moved elsewhere, I found myself (after a brief stint in a damp house in Putney) living in and drawn to the same sort of areas, the places on the periphery of my childhood – Kilburn Park, Maida Vale, West Hampstead, and now West Kensington. West Central, sort of.

Despite this, yesterday I realised that not only do I still have the bias against South and East London which I have nurtured carefully since childhood, as all west London kids should (it’s practically a curriculum subject) (this bias became especially apparent while driving through Dalston on a bustling Saturday afternoon, and hearing news reports yesterday of crazed knife attack at the very same bus stop where I regularly get on the bus to my friend Frank’s house in Brixton), but I have also somehow acquired a curious and totally unconscious bias towards the north, as well.

Not North London, not Finchley or Hendon – no, no. The North.

If someone is from the north, I immediately subconsciously credited them with a bit more common sense, a bit more nouse, knowing what nouse actually means, and being genuinely sound. Until, of course, they open their mouth, at which point they may well prove themselves to be as cocky and ignorant (or braying and prejudiced) as their southern cousins.

You may do the same with people from Ireland, or Scotland, especially if you’re not actually from there but feel a great affinity to the place, through holidays or relatives or music. You may want the individuals from there to be more shining and glorious than they actually are, and in the process overlook the locals who may well be precisely that.

I have to remind myself that regions aren’t good or bad, people are.

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Category: Language, London, Younger

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This is an individual post, which may not be very recent. For the latest stuff on meish dot org, please visit the main page.

By the way, I'm female. It doesn't have much impact on what I write about, or how I write, but I thought I'd point it out because so many people who link to this site seem to assume I'm male.

The clue's in the name: Meg. Like all those other female Megs.

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What’s all this, then?

This is a personal site, created and curated continuously since early 2000 by Meg Pickard, a creative geek, passionate photographer, anthropologist and web experience /community /social media specialist, who works for The Guardian & lives in London, UK.
 
The site includes a blog - a personal and evolving collection of links, opinions, thoughts, ideas, anecdotes and musings - as well as a variety of other projects. It is also a place to aggregate some of the author's distributed web activity, like photos, links and music.
 
More info about this site and its author.

Important note #1

This is a personal site. The contents and opinions contained within don't necessarily reflect those of my employer, family, or cat. They think for themselves (though mostly about tuna, in at least one case), and so do I.

Important note #2

Since the overwhelming majority of content on this site is historical, it should be regarded in light of the context in which it was originally published, and not as indicative or revealing of current perspectives, preferences or experience.

Important note #3

While I work and spend a lot of time thinking and talking about social media, participatory technologies and community development strategies, the vast majority of content on this site is not about that.

This personal site isn't about anything, except the perpetual unfolding of one person's experience, and the perspectives, observations and opinions that involves and inspires.

You still here?

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