David Scott

30.07.24

I was born in Little Thorpe, which no longer exists – or at least, the hospital doesn’t. I then lived in
South Hetton for a year or maybe more than that, so technically, I am from South Hetton. My dad
worked down the pit, and my parents bought a plot of land right on the edge of the A19, where all that
land was near Reg Vardy garage, and Oakerside was across from Old Shotton. It was going really
cheap.

He worked loads of hours, and they built their own house. Whilst they were building it, they moved to
one of the colliery streets in Easington because it was dirt cheap. It had no central heating, and we
lived there for a year. I can remember moving to Peterlee when I was about three. At that point, I think
Oakerside wasn’t developed much. There were lots of fields everywhere, and it doesn’t look like what
it does now. That was 1984 or ‘85. I consider myself from Peterlee as I’m from the area.

They still live in the bungalow they built, which faced out onto what was loads of fields and marshland
at the time. You could see Old Shotton from our house, but now many houses are built there.
I hated my childhood in Peterlee. I’ve got a weird relationship with the town, but I think a lot of people
do. At the time, it felt like there was nothing here. It felt devoid of all the things that were interesting as
a kid and a teenager.

When I moved away, I ended up in Newcastle for 10 years and then to London after that. When I
moved to London, I could look at Peterlee from an outside perspective and see why it was the way it
was. So I think I’ve got a lot more empathy for it now, but I can see there are loads of problems, and it
wasn’t necessarily the fault of the town. But I also think the town is to blame for why it still has some
problems.

As a kid, I didn’t like it. I wanted to get out as quickly as possible, and I never thought I’d end up back
living here for a stint of time. It was intended to be a stopgap before something, but I’m not sure what
that something else is yet.

By the time I was born in the early ‘80s, I think Peterlee was already broken. The vision of what it was
supposed to be when it originally formed; that ship had sort of sailed. Ultimately, the death of what the
town could have been was caused by the pits closing. It didn’t really stand a chance once what
happened. And then I just think it was always on the back foot.

I can remember the ‘90s when the town centre felt quite lively. There was the old ASDA, the SafeWay,
and Woolworths. There were shops and people, and it didn’t feel like what it feels like now. I have
nostalgia for being here as a kid. It was green because there were parks with grass and trees
everywhere. It was different from a lot of places. But I think it’s always felt like a tough place to live.

Maybe it has something to do with the death of the high street, which has been a country-wide
problem. But I think a town centre is the hub of a community, and if that feels thriving and busy, it
translates to the rest of the town. All the shops on the top floor shut, and now there are so many
empty shops downstairs. All the independents have gone, apart from the necessities like the cobbler.

I was talking to my niece, who is eleven, and she said there’s no reason why you would ever come to
Peterlee unless you lived here. I think that’s true because the town centre doesn’t have a draw. I know
a few things have popped up recently, the craft beer place and all the work that’s been going on
culturally, but I would never think…‘Oh, I’ll go for a walk down the town centre.’ There’s no reason to.

How it’s been built with all the estates, there doesn’t feel like a reason to walk to another part of
Peterlee, apart from if you go to the post office. In London, you frequently leave your flat and go for a
walk around. And there’s no reason to do that in Peterlee. Currently, I walk down the Dene quite a lot
because it’s just nice, and that’s where I get my walking fix.

I went to Shotton Hall. There are not many photos of the old school. But I remember with the
Comprehensive, you had the giant main building with the sloped roof, and the other buildings had flat
roofs. It was funny to have a school made up of lots of buildings. I vividly remember the ‘B’ Block,
which was red-coloured but can’t remember the last time I saw it.

Everyone has their own experience, but my experience at Shotton Hall was pretty terrible. There were
a few wrong-ens in Junior School, but in Senior School, there were loads of them. It just felt like
constant aggro. Not that you were involved in it, but something was always going on. And it was like
that every single day. At that point, I don’t know if Shotton Hall had a good reputation. I was there from
‘94 to ‘99.

I think the effects of living in this area and parents losing jobs had already kind of kicked in. Everything
was just a bit of a mess. Shotton Hall brought in people from Haswell, Shotton, and South Hetton, so
anywhere that had a pit that then closed probably would have had an effect.

I’ve got fond memories of Junior School, although they’re hazy. When I was at Comprehensive School,
I knew I needed to get out of Peterlee because it wasn’t where I wanted to be. Most of my friends I’ve
got now are generally from this area, but not many went to Shotton Hall. Others went to St Bede’s or
Wellfield, saying that their experience was similar.

I always remember the six-week holiday being hot. Peterlee in the summer was warm, especially
living near the Dene. There’s definitely an element of nostalgia there.

It always felt to me that there was nothing here. Apparently, it was a thing in the ‘80s to go shopping
every Saturday – my mam and dad used to. I remember being taken to Newcastle and feeling like it
was just a big place with so much going on and lots of different types of people.

Then, I had the opportunity to go to places like Manchester and London. And it just emphasised that
there’s nothing in Peterlee, and it didn’t appeal to me whatsoever. However, when I moved to London,
I started to recognise the vast difference between the people. In London, you’ve got extreme wealth
right next to people with literally nothing. On my way to work in Bermondsey, I’d come out of London
Bridge train station, where there was an immigration office. Every morning, a massive queue of
people would be standing waiting to work through documents or apply for something. Right next to it,
they built a street food market that was advertising £15 CBD cocktails. It didn’t feel right.

I know it’s a cliché to say it, but in Peterlee, there’s nothing. So aspirationally, if you grow up here and
you don’t have the opportunity to see things or go to other places, your view of the world becomes
very insular. Then, the way that you think and your perspective becomes very insular. And my
personal opinion is that when that starts to happen, you see the anti-social behaviour, the
small-minded way of thinking. And I think it’s something that happens over a period of time. But it is a
Catch-22.

In London, I started to feel uncomfortable. I was angry about the extreme wealth, opportunity, and
things we just don’t have around the North East. But then I thought I was part of the problem because
I’ve left.

When I first went to London, I was just gobsmacked at all the different jobs people had. I didn’t know
they were even jobs. And I thought, if you don’t have all of this around you, you don’t know what’s
available to you. So you might think…‘Well, I’ve got XYZ to pick from, and that’s what I’m going to do
with my life.’ I don’t remember being asked at school what you wanted to do with your career.

Although, I had a moment. Peterlee obviously had ingrained itself more in me than I thought. At
Victoria Park in London, there are villages and flats that have flat roofs, and they’re ‘60s modernist.
Obviously, they were very expensive, but they look like Peterlee. I loved them, but I wasn’t quite sure
why, and I didn’t make that connection initially. Before leaving London, I lived in Stratford for a year. At
first, I thought it was a soulless, new build. But in the end, I loved that you were right next to a
motorway and had a sense of freedom. I could get in a car on the motorway and just leave. And then I
realised it was Peterlee.

My whole experience of being in Peterlee was living in Oakerside. I remember at school, if you lived in
Oakerside, people thought you were posh. I can even remember dinner nannies at school
saying…‘Oh, they’re a posh one; they’re from Oakerside.’

It’s weird to me because my experience of living in Oakerside is different. My parents built their house,
but my dad lost his job at the pit, and their whole life was a money struggle. So even though we had
the house, I remember we didn’t have carpets or a telephone for two years. They worked and worked,
and my dad retrained, but they were never as comfortable as they were when he worked down the pit.
So the house may have been bigger, but we had no carpets. I understand that was definitely a
privilege for me growing up. I didn’t grow up in Sunny Blunts or other areas of Peterlee, so sometimes
I feel like an imposter to Peterlee because I lived close to the A19.

The ‘50s houses that Peterlee is known for, have all been killed aesthetically because of all the roofs.
You get glimpses of them when you walk around now, where some haven’t been changed, but
Oakerside has a weird ‘80s suburban mix, and every house looks different. Some of them look gross
or are strange mansions. If I walk down the Dene or behind the houses and I see them, they look
almost like American films. But I wonder if there are lots of people who’ve just stayed there, like my
parents and never moved because some of them look like they need work. So what was maybe the
posh estate, now looks a little bit weathered. And it’s such a contrast between those houses and the
‘50s houses. It’s a strange town to walk around.

I think that my view on the Pavilion is also one of growing up here. I didn’t really hang around in it. But
every now and again, I would. It probably wasn’t somewhere you would go because you might end up
getting into bother. There were some wrong-ens there. Then, I went away and saw Peterlee through a
different perspective online and in publications. I’m also a fan of the Barbican. I recognise that some
say it’s not very nice, but I like it as a space. I think my view of it now is, what else about Peterlee
could there be that shines a light on it in a positive way? It feels like the Pavilion brings in the art
crowd, which is great because it gets eyes on Peterlee. But it’s not a gallery; it’s a place where people
live. So how do you get eyes on it in a different way that causes something positive to happen?

You can see the narrative effects of East Durham from the successive Governments and how they’ve
handled things, the lack of investment and all the rest of it. But I think outside of London, Manchester,
maybe Birmingham, places where the serious investment is, everywhere looks a bit like Peterlee now.
And Durham, I remember, I went to sixth form in Durham from 1999 to 2001, and it always felt more
like it had stuff happening. As a city, there was investment, and lots of things were open and going on.
But when you go to Durham now, it feels like a town on the brink. And if it didn’t have the Cathedral…

Even when you look at Newcastle, which I’ve always thought is the capital of the North East, and then
compare it to London, Newcastle has also had a lack of investment, so it feels everywhere has
become a bit Peterlee. It got a load of investment in the early 2000s with the Sage (1*), and then you
had the bridge where the apartments were built. But since then, nothing has really happened.

Maybe there’s something in us having aspirations for perceived, nice things like coffee shops. But,
equally, I still gravitate towards things that are a bit crap as well. It’s just the balance. I really love
Seaburn and I’ve never been that fond of Tynemouth. I can appreciate Tynemouth for what it is. But it
doesn’t quite feel for me. Whereas, Seaburn has two or three nice things. But then it still has a bit of
edginess to it, and I like that. Or is that just because of where I’m from? And how I’ve grown up, and
there is always that tension.

In small towns, where there are not many different things that are easily accessible, limiting your
experiences, worldview, and how you see things becomes very easy. Over time, if everybody’s
worldview becomes limited, I think that causes real problems. And I think we sort of see that now.

As a kid, I was always taken to Blackpool Illuminations and Seaburn Lights, so Peterlee Carnival felt
like an extension of those kinds of places – full of energy, lights, smells and sound. My mam and dad
took me every year when I was really little, but once I got a bit older, I’d go with my mates. We’d watch
the showmen build the rides during the week, and then as soon as Thursday came, we’d be there
spending all of our money being spun around. Thursday night always felt a bit edgy – the myth was
that the rides were cheaper as they were testing them, which obviously was nonsense, but it added a
bit of drama to it all. I’ve also got really vivid memories of being in Peterlee at carnival time and seeing
a ride in motion poke out from behind a building, with the lights flashing and a few faint screams,
before disappearing behind the building again. I think it added a bit of magic to the town.
References

(1*) now, The Glasshouse International Centre for Music