Politics

Yesterday I went on what I am faintly ashamed to admit was my first ever political demonstration, protesting the government's plan to cut free ESOL classes for asylum seekers. There were about three hundred of us gathered in the square at the Centre for Life a little before 11am, including parents with children in pushchairs, and officials in wooly hats and Palestinian scarves handing out placards with images of George Bush and The World's Number One Terrorist on the back, now hidden by tape and wrapped round bits of plywood. As we set off along Clayton Street, towards the shopping streets and match-day traffic, a group of Christians were kneeling in prayer against stem cell research on the pavement. We marched to the Monument, led by refugees on drums and a woman with a megaphone, chanting You say: Integration, We say: Education and 2-4-6-8, what do we appreciate? ESOL to the utter bemusement of passers-by. At the Monument itself we packed together in a crescent shape for half an hour of speeches that almost nobody could hear. The two students on the steps canvassing for the Conservatives sat in silence throughout.

More people arrived as we squeezed past the early afternoon shoppers on Northumberland Street, competing for attention with Hare Krishnas and shopfronts and dancing bands, before coming to a halt outside the Civic Centre. A man dressed in blue jeans and a football scarf went inside to hand in a petition. There was a moment of anti-climax and then we headed off to the pub.