Here we go again. Another day, another study churning stats to spit out a depressing rundown of the worst places to live in the UK. But this time it’s not some dubious research to plug a new mortgage company. No, it’s rather less light-hearted than that. On today’s agenda: where is the worst place to be a girl?
My heart sank when I read the result: my beloved hometown of Middlesbrough. The town where we have chosen to bring up our own girl, who this week we sent into a Middlesbrough school for the first time.
The State of Girls’ Rights in the UK is a report from Plan International UK, a charity looking to improve the outlook for girls around the world, in collaboration with the University of Hull. Admirably it looks to shine a light on inequalities for girls living in the UK.
But what about the girls who live in the “worst place”, Middlesbrough? Is it fair to dictate such a complex and subjective experience, based solely on statistics? Is this an empowering message for the young women of this town – or one that will damage self-esteem and only act to dampen aspirations?
I’d be foolish to suggest that we in Middlesbrough and Teesside – like many places – are not without social problems. The researchers compared all local authority areas in England and Wales on five markers, including childhood poverty levels, life expectancy, teenage conception rates, GCSE results and the percentage of girls aged under 18 not in employment, education or training. Although the town’s mayor, Dave Budd, told the Gazette, a local newspaper, that the figures have now improved and the ones used in the report were outdated. Still, like those statistics for Blackpool and Manchester – second and third on the “worst” list respectively – it all made for sombre reading.
I do hope this sets sirens going in some government offices and gets them scrabbling to send help up the M1 where it’s most needed. But I doubt it will.
What I would humbly suggest is that pride in your town counts for a lot and shaming the “worst place to be a girl” isn’t exactly going to encourage or inspire anyone – least of all those girls who need help most.
As a child growing up in Middlesbrough, I had hopes and dreams that in the main I’ve been lucky enough to achieve, supported by the people of my town: family, friends, teachers, doctors, bosses and colleagues. My husband’s experience has been similar and we had no reason to leave behind our home town in search for our happy-ever-after elsewhere. When deciding on where to bring up our children, it was here we chose rather than fell into. Living in Leeds, studying in Sunderland and working in Newcastle for many years – it was always where I came back to.
We also know that we are blessed with many things in this town: world-class medical centres such as James Cook University hospital, and award-winning (and ever evolving) educational facilities such as Teesside University and the glittering Middlesbrough College campus on the Middlehaven site – which, with any luck, is soon to welcome a multimillion-pound ski centre, a first for the region.
People like to think of Middlesbrough as some smog-infested industrial wasteland – but we have so much beauty. Much of the country can’t hold a torch to our place at the gateway of the breathtaking North York Moors or our stunning coastline, Saltburn included. And who can forget our newly promoted Premier League football team, which has restored so much pride to the people of Middlesbrough? In short there’s a lot for our girls to be positive about.
I hope that the impact of this study will be more than merely highlighting the best and worst places to grow up female, and it can mobilise change for all of our girls in the UK, closing the gap between those who have the most and the least. But it’s words that my grandmother – a Middlesbrough mum of 10 – had hanging on her wall that I will lean on more than those depressing statistics.
“Give your children just two things – one is roots and the other is wings.” Wherever our daughter chooses to live, I hope she is always as proud of her home town as I am.
