Riots in Britain

As buildings burn and windows shatter, it isn’t time to ask polite questions.

UK Home Secretary Theresa May was reported this week as ruling out the use of water cannons to control rioters because “the way we police in Britain is through the consent of communities”. Possibly even a home secretary might think that when people are ­jumping from the windows of burning buildings, making 20,000 emergency calls to police in a single night, and being beaten up by thugs smashing their way into random homes, “consent” might be taken as implied.

What did May need before she would consider policing methods that might have worked? A public education programme, community consultation and questionnaires filled in on paper made from trees harvested from sustainable forests? Did she want to set up a working group to discover whether the more effective tactic for quelling the disturbance would be water cannons, or recalling Parliament (Britain opted for recalling Parliament)?

The riots have been utterly appalling, opportunistic thuggery. One youth on the street was quoted in the  as saying there weren’t any jobs in the area and if there were, they only paid the minimum wage. One of his mates said the police showed young blacks no respect. The idea that anything actually has to be earned – respect, let alone a wage – seemed an alien concept. Economic deprivation and social alienation may indeed have had a role to play in what happened, but intimidation, violence, dishonesty and anarchy have had bigger roles. As I looked at those shocking images of London burning, I could hear in my head my father sighing with regret and saying, “Ah, the sights you see when you haven’t got a gun.” Or a water cannon, perhaps.

Before our Japanese boys came to stay, which is the first time my family has hosted foreign homestay students, I thought the idea of being a homestay “parent” was a little contrived. After all, how could I pretend to be the mother of 14-year-old boys I had never met, with whom I shared no language and who made communication with my own teenagers seem like a gabfest? But as it turned out, I could not, even if I had been the boys’ real mother, have felt more proud of them when halfway through their two-week stay they started speaking English. I think they always could, because they had been learning it at school in Japan and were having Esol lessons at school here. However, I suspect the combination of our accents and the speed at which we spoke intimidated them when they arrived and made them feel unable to communicate.

When their first faltering attempts did not meet with success, it doubtless made them dispirited and reluctant to try again. But gradually, word by single word, they started using more English until we noticed that sitting at the table one day, Taka said to his brother, “What time do we leave”, and Yori answered instantly, “Six o’clock.”

Witnessing this was like watching a child take his or her first steps, and knowing that from here on there would be no going back; that they had acquired a skill and confidence we hoped would stay with them their whole lives. It’s been a great experience having them at home, even though communication was always difficult. Google Translator is the traveller’s friend, I have discovered.

I’m appalled at how much lemonade the boys drank while they were here, but at least, because I am not their mother, I won’t be paying their dental bills.

Did they enjoy their time? I hope so. From the fact that their clothes were spread from one end of the house to the other I took it they were relaxed, although perhaps, looking around them, they were simply trying to fit in with cultural norms.

They’ve left now – tired, I suspect; happy, I hope; with good memories and their tooth enamel intact.

The furore over the price of an All Black jersey is perplexing when you consider this most basic question: who’d want one? I guess I’m just not the target market – confirmed by my going to the test match against South Africa two weeks ago and not even realising the All Blacks were wearing a new jersey.