Civic pride

I have a wonderful little brother called Thomas, who is seven years old and attends Goostrey Primary School (left). Schools have become very important places in modern society; alongside pubs, they're the only true local "community" centres, now that church attendances have dropped. Goostrey School is currently celebrating its 150th anniversary. All the children have been involved in creating an exhibition on Goostrey's history. Today, I went to have a look.

I thought I knew quite a lot about my village. I am particularly proud to have been the person to create the Goostrey wikipedia article. How mistaken I was. There were displays on all sorts of aspects of village life, from the Victorian period to evacuees in the war to the importance of Jodrell Bank Observatory. The centre-piece was two 3D maps of Goostrey, showing the village in 1856 and again in 2006. You can see here how much it changed (below right).

Among other things, I learnt that the local viaduct was built by 150 men living in a shanty town; that the current church dates from 1798; and that, in 1959 (?), a man heroically snatched two babies from an oncoming train (his commemorative silver clock was on display).

Yet the most impressive thing about it was how the "community" suddenly coalesced in this insignificant school hall. I turned up at 2pm when the exhibition started, but already the Rev. Otley was present with a small group of elderly residents, accompanied by His Honour the Mayor of Congleton ("just call me Andy"). There was one display about Mrs Kettle, owner of a much-loved bits-and-bobs shop in Goostrey. Other parents and relatives soon turned up.

Later I was talking to my mother about whether "British identity" is threatened by internationalism and immigration. She thought it was, but I argued that actually identities become strongest when they are under threat. Goostrey is the same. There isn't really a "village community" any more. The old farming community has been swamped with rich commuters and pensioners who come and go. But as soon as village life starts to disintegrate, people panic and the identity is given new, enduring life. Last year the Rose Day celebrations became a huge event, and a scarecrow competition was held that is becoming a new tradition. There have been initiatives to improve the park and oppose a gas plant. And now, this celebration of 150 years of village life.

In a way, this new identity is artificial. The community is forced. People move to Goostrey aged 35 looking for a rural idyll, and when it looks to be disappearing they have to create it themselves. But today I developed a new affection for it. Who cares how communities are created, as long as we have them. People now start online "communities" based on their interests. Universities are becoming more important "communities" for the young adult. Is British identity under threat? No - as in Goostrey, British identity is just beginning.