Lizzie Beck
I’m not from these parts. Neither am I DFL, AFB, EDL or WTF. I didn’t actually choose to come here either, I was moved here for reasons that if revealed would result in assassination (of whom I don’t know).
It was nighttime when I first saw this town. From a hill above what I now know is the old town I looked down onto a higgledly piggedly collection of houses, warmly lit, leaning on each other for support and lights sparkling into the blackness of the sea. I saw a breathtaking expanse of sky, unpolluted by light and filled with stars, some shooting, some falling.
What a beautiful beautiful place this is.
As both homeless and a journalist I accidentally landed perfectly centred in the dichotomy that I now realise is at the heart of Hastings.
My only prior knowledge of this town was a battle and an insurance company, neither of which seem to be advertised very heavily locally. (I purport more effort should go into at least one of them.)
Then real life begins. I’m not only witnessing gentrification versus poverty, I’m living it and perhaps I should see myself as lucky to have my particular sentry post. Naturally it doesn’t always feel this way.
Living in emergency temporary accommodation for four years is stressful. I left a situation in which I was powerless and entered another, though obviously one not so immediately harmful.
Having loved this town from night one, having written about the issues Hastings faces and having lived at the bleaker end of society, I have a deep passion to find resolution to what is without doubt a housing crisis in its infancy, and a town in danger of disintegrating before our eyes. Morally at least. I have also begun to believe that finger pointing was a useful start but we now need to sit down at the same table before this town becomes a place that no one recognises. A gentrified ghost town. A film set of a pretty coastal destination, beautiful facades propped up temporarily until the money shot is in the can and the vans move on.
The government can be criticised for many things but no-one can ignore the fact that they have excelled in introducing crises into our lives. Food, heat, housing, homelessness, addiction, mental and physical health, pollution, the climate, the police, the justice system, employment, crime, transport, care for the elderly, corruption and COVID. It would be remiss of us not to give them that. Can you remember when we called these things ‘the basics’? We had the nerve to think they were our fundamental rights?
So what to do? If, as we are told (and I believe correctly for once) that this is a crisis then emergency measures need to be taken. Remember during the well-managed COVID pandemic we could only have a ration of bog roll? How about we start with limiting how many properties you can buy? (Sorry lads I know that’s tough but if you could just manage with one or two properties until we get back on our feet that would be great. Thanks.)
Three years ago circumstance led me to having to sleep outside during winter. It is understandable that I feel extraordinary relief and gratitude to have a solid roof over my head now. But this gratitude makes me vulnerable. Like most ETA tenants I live in fear of eviction, tolerate sub par living conditions and corrupt and intimidating landlords. The weight of the roof I am temporarily provided with rests heavily on my shoulders. ‘So the landlord doesn’t provide me with heating – at least I’m not sleeping outside. So the landlord lets himself in unannounced – at least I’m not outside’. But the day to day unsanctioned and illegal behaviour of my landlord runs parallel with the sanctioned daylight robbery he commits with the council. Extortionate costs to house me: I don’t blame HBC anymore, they too need help.
The current situation can’t be fixed. It’s time for a new one. While the government play fast and loose with the definition of ‘affordable’ housing and rape the land for new builds, work on what we have. Cap the ETA costs, fill the empty properties before even considering redefining green belt and destroying the countryside. Question hard the second home owners, stop the Air Bnbs.
After all, this is a crisis. Hastings is a working town. House its residents before beginning to pretend that another gallery/restaurant/Airbnb will transform the economy. It’s already beautiful here, another craft beer tavern will do nothing to improve life for those who are so seriously suffering.
We need to impose our own lockdown. Stand still, take stock, and move forward cautiously with great thought. No more superficial improvement. Without the people it’s a parody.
Hastings is a beautiful beautiful town. Look after it.