I went to the well-attended exhibition organised by the Co-operative Group at Parklands Leisure Centre on Wednesday afternoon. It was the first real opportunity that I had to see the Co-op's proposals, although the descriptions on the bright and attractive display boards raised as many questions as they answered. We are still at the beginning of a proposed development that is on a massive scale and no one can design a town of 15,000 homes in a few weeks.
The young men and women wearing the “Communications Consultant” badges looked eager and keen to help. The first display panel showed a projection of the area considered for development. The fields of Leicestershire were shown in the kind of aerial view that Google displays on its maps. To the left were the suburban villages of Thurnby, Evington and Oadby. To the right Houghton on the Hill, Little Stretton and Great Glen. The area of land held by Co-op and English Partnerships was highlighted and at its centre, the runways of the airfield stood out clearly.
This display was the most popular by far. The residents of east Leicestershire are hardly known for being feisty but here were a huddle of at least a dozen people, pressed in around the map. I was practically jostled. They seemed to all be talking at the same time, gesturing to specific features with fingers pressed into the map or making larger points with a sweeping of hands. The sharply-dressed and courteous Communications Consultant was explaining what was planned, what was not planned and what was not known at this stage.
From this initial display, people wandered around the other boards with grave and doubtful looks. I overheard conversations in which the residents sought and found evidence for their worst fears. “There you go...”, “Look! I told you...” I overheard nothing from the visitors that was appreciative or positive in the slightest.
Then I noticed how narrow a band of people were at this particular event at this particular time. Men and women were in roughly equal numbers, but they were almost all older people and, without exception, white. Perhaps the time of day (Wednesday afternoon) had something to do with this and perhaps younger people and members of other ethnic groups have been equally represented. I do hope so. I was struck by the obvious difference between the young paid advocates and the unimpressed older visitors. Both groups are stakeholders in the Pennbury project – with important gains or losses to contend for.
The visitors to the exhibition were understandably fearful at the loss of green fields in the area and at the prospect of sharing the roads on which they frequently travel with large numbers of other people. And I see why. They have the most to lose and probably the least to gain from Pennbury. Ironically, many of them will live in the area in homes that were built on green fields in the last fifty years. The incremental development of places like Oadby, Thurnby, Great Stretton and Kibworth has seen thousands of houses built in recent decades. It has drawn people who enjoy the unspoilt countryside within easy reach of their affordable homes, good schools for their children, and easy use of their cars. These steadily growing villages have enabled Leicester's expansion without much of a fuss. So it's been possible for our parishioners to refer to Oadby as 'the village' without conceding that it's really a substantial town of 25,000 that is part of the Greater Leicester conurbation.
As Oadby expanded, residents of Knighton and Clarendon Park who noticed what was happening might have felt disappointed at the loss of their nearby fields. And users of the southern ring road and A6 might have worried about the rising traffic that the new residents' cars would bring to their congested routes. But a defining urban characteristic is a surprising capacity for change and growth.
I am delighted that Oadby grew so significantly and that I live and minister in the expanded Oadby, rather than the small village that existed before the War. To wish otherwise would be rather perverse of me. It's a good place to live and investment in community facilities has contributed significantly. In the 1970s the local authority and the Church of England had the imagination to plan a place of worship and combined community centre (St Paul's Church), which has become a focus for faith and life. Regrettably, the expansion of The Grange estate in the last twenty years was not accompanied by similar investments in local amenities.
The chief difference between these incremental developments and the Pennbury proposal is the shock of it all. It was possible to not really notice the new homes going up in Oadby – to overlook a half-dozen new streets here and there, and to miss the passing of another green field every couple of years. But Pennbury is huge, sudden and unmissable.
The national needs for affordable housing and for more sustainable, ecologically sensitive development are hard to dispute. But while the displays and brochures are beautifully designed and full of the kind of positive aspirational statements with which few would disagree, there's just insufficient detail to know how and if, in the long term, Pennbury could be a good thing or a huge mistake. I simply have insufficient information to decide.
But on some things I am more certain.
I have no inside knowledge but it looks to me that there's a very strong chance that Pennbury will be approved, whatever the protests of those who previously bought into the attractions of this area and who have most to lose. I regret that a go-ahead decision will bring much hurt and sorrow. For us as a church, for our new Gartree Mission Partnership, and for me personally, Pennbury is likely to dominate the collective pastoral context for ministry in the coming years. If the proposals are approved, we shall be ministering to a significantly bereaved population, coming to terms with a substantial loss.
But the church's pastoral ministry must be balanced with its prophetic ministry. We must also play a constructive part in ensuring that the vision for Pennbury is not unimaginative and narrowly domestic. If it goes ahead, Pennbury could be a place of isolation, where people are neighbourless in what the Bishop of Leicester has strikingly described as an “eco-ghetto”. But it need not be. The churches and other faith communities must ensure that the developers are challenged with a better vision of civic living, where streets are places of public encounter, where shared identities of place are more decisive than sectarian identities of tribe, where concern for one's neighbour transcends personal fears and greeds. There is plenty in the Christian tradition that informs our investment in community and many of our churches, including St Paul's, are models of successful community-building and positive interaction between diverse groups in our population, including people of other faiths. We have a lot to contribute and a lot of skills, insights and practical experience to share.
At the exhibition I asked to meet one of the Co-op staff, rather than the PR people. After a few minutes an exhausted-looking woman came to meet me. “I've been up for hours.” she said. I sensed that she wasn't looking forward to yet another difficult conversation. But as we talked about both the real concerns and the real possibilities, I saw her interest in the church's contribution to a better plan for Pennbury.
If Pennbury goes ahead, our churches will face two challenges. First will be the challenge of maintaining a pastoral concern for the bereaved and disappointed. Second will be the challenge of the long-term prophetic role which will shape the lives of thousands who are not yet known to us. This is a time for listening and understanding, for praying, for caring and for bold responses to a significant opportunity.
