I left Sunderland when I was 18 because I thought it had nothing to offer me.
I didn’t fit in. I felt disengaged. All I wanted was to head off to university somewhere far, far away from the petty squabbles and trivialities of life at school. I wanted to see the world, to travel to exotic cultures. So I did.
Well, to Sheffield anyway.
A decade later, with a husband in tow and kids on the horizon, I found myself moving back to Sunderland. And I have to admit to being pretty apprehensive about it at the time. Would I feel trapped and claustrophobic the way I had in my teens? Would our children want to spread their wings and move away at the earliest opportunity, as I had?
These fears plagued my decision to move, but a sneer from a work colleague soon opened my eyes to how much had changed in my home town. “You’re moving to Sunderland!” she exclaimed, “Why would anyone want to do that?”.
As a Mackem working in Newcastle, I’d grown used to these prejudices, which seemed to flare up most frequently in the run up to derby games (but were peculiarly absent from any post-derby work banter in recent years). Like most Mackems however, I have an inner mechanism which switches to ultra-defensive at the merest slight made against our city by an outsider. As the red and white mist descended, I rebutted her prejudices with a proud defence of all that is great about Sunderland. And thus began a renewed love affair with my city.
Five years on from moving back, I have a one year old son who I’m proud to say was born in the city. The experience of bringing up a baby in Sunderland has not only brought out the best of the city in my eyes, it’s also reminded me of what I loved about it all along.
I discovered Sunderland’s independent café scene through a sleep deprived haze. As a parent of a young baby, I
needed coffee, and so it seemed did a whole load of other new mams. No surprise there. Between nappy changes and feeds, we bonded over cappuccinos and cake. My son got his first taste of café culture in independent coffee shops where you could also buy vinyl or catch a gig, and cafes where you could get some of the finest vegan fare on the planet. I hope he’ll grow up to think this is normal, that every high street in the UK should be peppered with cafes with heart and personality.
As my son has got older, the city’s cultural offer has been our saviour. Sunderland has so much to offer, and ther
e is much more on the horizon. If we’re not enjoying some live music with Tiny Tweeties or perfecting a tree pose at Kalma Baby Yoga, then we’ll be tracking down dinosaurs in the Museum and Winter Gardens, marvelling at ‘Propellers of the City’ in Keel Square, taking walks on one
of our beautiful beaches or identifying birds at WWT Washington. The current developments at the old fire station are eagerly awaited, and not just for the amazingly positive impact the developments will have on the city, but for the interest and passion it will ignite in our children.
I’ll be honest. We’ve avoided talking about football in our house since my son was born. He’s in the unenviable position of coming from a mixed-club home, in that my husband is a life-long Newcastle supporter (who happens to love living in Sunderland, by the way). We’re leaving our boy to make his own decision when the time is right but it’s hard not be partisan in a city that loves and nurtures sport so much.
Aside from world-class facilities like the Aquatic Centre (where my son has been taking swimming lessons since he was just a few months old), sport is at the heart of the city and its culture. As a (slow) runner myself, this is most evident to me in the range of running clubs and events Sunderland has to offer. My son has already taken part in his first parkrun (from the comfort of his pushchair) and he’s a regular spectator at Great Run Local in Mowbray Park. Events like the Sunderland 10k and half marathon are also putting Sunderland on the sporting map, attracting top class runners from across the world and inspiring the next generation of athletes.
So why is it important for Sunderland to be named City of Culture? For my son, and for all our kids. They are our city’s future. Let’s keep this momentum going and make them part of it. Let’s make them want to do things differently. Let’s make them proud of their city. Let’s make them want to stay.
— Anna Scott is a freelance copywriter. She lives in Sunderland with her husband and 18 month old son.
