It's a drizzly day in South East London, and I'm weaving my way through the mazes of Lewisham's council estates, which only seem to amplify the weather. The homogenous grey terraces and flat blocks are grey in both colour and nature. I'm on my way to Catford, and the Excalibur Estate.
In case you're unfamiliar with the Excalibur Estate- where the streets are named after Arthurian legend- it is the largest remaining post-war prefab community in Europe, and the only one left in London. Built in 1948 by German and Italian prisoners of war to rehouse those left homeless by the blitz, the prefabs were designed to last between 10-15 years, but after more than sixty, they're still standing- and so is the community that has grown up around them. Despite six years of tireless campaigning by local residents and English Heritage, the future of Excalibur is looking bleak. The council have approved plans to 'regenerate' the estate- the historical prefabs will be torn down, to make way for yet another block of flats.
Jim and Lorraine Blackender formed the Worried Tenants Group in opposition to the proposed demolition of their community, and kindly invited me into their (beautiful) home. They have been living in their prefab on Excalibur for twenty years, but the last six years have been a whirlwind of bureaucracy, media hype and worry. The thing is, this is more than a bunch of prefab homes, more than an marker of working-class history, more than roof over their heads- this is a thriving community, and the most exceptional phenomenon of neighbourliness remaining in what is our frequently alienated city. There are generations of families living alongside each other. Some residents have been here since the estate was erected. It has such a low crime rate that the police no longer even bother to patrol here, and kids can play safely in the street- parents comforted by the fact that there will always be a pair of friendly eyes to watch over them.
The residents of Excalibur are bound together by the history of the estate, as well as the buildings themselves. The buildings are what make the community- and despite Lewisham councils assurances that it will keep the community together after demolition- Jim and Lorraine know that the reality will be just another council estate with all the distrust, alienation and crime that that brings with it.
"There are waiting lists of people who want to live in a prefab on the estate. In the council flats across the road the waiting list is to get out."
You can read all about the efforts being made to rescue the Excalibur estate at Jim's campaign website as well as in numerous national press articles from the past few years (just Google search).
My project to date has been about investigating communities. Why do we have such successful tight-knit communities out in the sticks (where I'm from) and yet in the cities any sense of human significance is lost? The Excalibur estate shows that communities can and do exist within the city limits, and they're as wonderful if not better than anything you'll find in the countryside.There are people who dedicate their lives to conserving, rescuing, and building communities every day, but their stories and their efforts are disappearing into the mists of time- just like our sense of neighbourliness.
History frames and contextualises our sense of place- our sense of each other. Maybe we're making the wrong kind of history memorable. What if what's available in the history books and museums isn't good enough? Fuck the hard facts of battle dates and grandiose architecture, this is what really matters. This is the kind of history that's relevant.
And if we don't know about it, if we are unaware that there is anything there to preserve, then who is going to do anything about it?
My mission is hence to tell the stories of the communities and individuals who are struggling tirelessly against the individualism and distrust that thrives. They are still here, they do deserve our attention. I'm going to help them get it.
