In January 2018, Sunderland social worker Steph Capewell gave birth to her daughter Amelia who, tragically, survived for just 12 minutes. It was, she says, “the most devastating experience”.
In hospital she met another new mother who hadn’t even known she was pregnant. The young woman had nothing; no clothes for her baby, no equipment and no help. Capewell gave her the belongings she had accumulated for Amelia.
A gesture made out of compassion at a time of almost unbearable grief for Capewell has since morphed into a charity – Love, Amelia – that donates baby equipment to young mothers living in poverty across England’s north east. In the past year alone, it has supported 6,000 children of families in need.
“These are not just statistics or numbers on a page. They represent real children, real families, and real lives,” said Capewell. “Eradicating child poverty must be a top and ongoing priority for whoever forms the next government.”
Except it isn’t. The Conservative party has made five pledges to voters ahead of the UK’s July 4th general election, while Labour has published six pledges and a separate list of five main “missions” for government. The lists hit hot-button topics such as immigration, but don’t even mention fighting poverty.
Yet in areas such as the north east, far from the Westminster bubble, the debilitating effects of widespread poverty are obvious and entrenched. Research last week for the End Child Poverty Coalition showed that at least one quarter of children live in poverty in 90 per cent of constituencies in the north east. In the region overall the average is one in three, while in hotspots such as Newcastle Central, it is above 40 per cent of children.
Campaigners say such poverty is “unacceptable” and demand the next government lifts Britain’s two-child benefits cap, brought in by the Tories to limit state payouts for third and subsequent children. Even Labour insists it cannot afford to end the cap, which would cost £1.8 billion (€2.1 billion) but lift 300,000 children out of poverty.
The Tyne and Wear region incorporates the proud, football-mad cities of Newcastle and Sunderland, as well as the large towns of Gateshead and South Shields, one of the poorest in Britain. Newcastle’s poverty is concentrated in pockets dotted around the city such as Arthur’s Hill and Kenton. Often, these areas of deprivation lie not far from the elegant boulevards of the city centre including Grainger Town with its classy Theatre Royal and achingly hip indoors market.
Across the river Tyne in Gateshead, the signs that local families are struggling are more overt in the commercial centre. It is awash with pawnshops and outlets such as Cash Converters. In the windows of one shop, H&T Pawnbroking, plenty of pawned jewellery was for sale last week. It included two chunky men’s rings engraved with the word “Mum”.
Kirsty Spencer works for the local Barnardo’s charity, which runs the Pause programme. This supports vulnerable mothers who repeatedly are engaged with child services and have multiple kids taken away. Their poverty is often compounded by abuse, addiction and trauma issues.
Funding for services is a “massive” problem, says Spencer. Pause previously supported 40 vulnerable women across four local authority areas in the region. Now it supports 17 women across six local authority areas. Yet staff numbers for Pause and also Stepwell, an associated Barnardo’s programme, have shrunk from 12 to just three.
“This is the smallest we’ve ever been,” says Spencer, who adds it is a “postcode lottery” for mothers who need help. Services are required now more than ever yet they have never been more squeezed.
Most of the women Spencer helps are in Sunderland, half an hour away on the Tyne and Wear Metro. Poverty levels here are even more acutely obvious than in Gateshead.
Last week, an international food festival brought a splash to colour to Sunderland’s run-down city centre. Yet signs of homelessness and street drinking were clearly visible all around Market Square. At 3pm on Friday as the food festival brought crowds to one end of High Street West, Sunderland Community Soup Kitchen drew homeless men to the other end.
Inside the Bridges Shopping Centre, a bedraggled and clearly intoxicated man approached the counter of Esquire’s coffee house and politely asked the manager if she did “anything for the homeless”. She gave him some kind words, a latte and a sandwich and advised him where to get more help. A 15-minute walk out of town, the signs of deprivation in Hendon were almost overwhelming among its boarded-up houses.
There are proven links between poverty and other social issues such as crime. Last week the anti-violence Knife Angel, a huge travelling metal sculpture made out of 100,000 seized blades, was on display in Sunderland. A woman in a fluorescent bib herded a giddy gang of local schoolchildren around it.
It was Tanya Brown, whose 18-year-old son Connor was stabbed to death in Sunderland in 2019.
She explained to The Irish Times that the trust her family set up in Connor’s name now campaigns to warn children, especially those from poverty-ridden areas, of the dangers of knives.
“The worst has already happened to me,” she said. “I can’t help my son. But I can help these kids here.”
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