Tuesday, 26 February 2008

And I thought we were a civilised bunch


With the recent sentencing of Steve Wright, aka the Suffolk Strangler, debate has once more been ignited on the issue of the death penalty.

With grieving parents calling for the reintroduction of captial punishment (abolished in 1965) to cater for the likes of serial killer Wright, the public has once more been asked to take sides.

I have always been against capital punishment, and find it hard to believe that a country such as America - claiming to espouse democracy and human rights - can justify continuing to use capital punishment.

Image my horror then, when I found myself in the middle of a university debate in which I was one of only two people in a room of 15, who was against it's reintroduction in Britain.

I just couldn't understand it. What had happened to the liberal student stereotype - it must have jumped straight out of the first floor window.

I had found myself debating with fellow colleagues who shared the same views as the BNP! And worse than that, as I picked up some newspapers for the tube journey home, there were numerous articles discussing the financial merits of capital punishment.

Financial merits!? Can we really justify killing people in order to save the taxpayer a few pounds a year, and to ease pressure on our ailing prison system?

The Home Office has released figures suggesting that on average it costs £37,500 per year to keep someone incarcerated. Can this really be the cost of a human life?

The Sun then ran a poll in which a staggering 99% of its readers voted in favour of capital punishment.

I personally find it hypocritical that as a nation we can even consider convicting someone of murder and punish them by death. Surely by this act we too are lowering ourselves to their level.

I just hope that the media act responsibly with this sensitive issue and don't hype the public into a frenzied fear where the death penalty appears the only way to make Britain's streets safe.

Sunday, 3 February 2008

Article: Life on foreign streets


Slumped on a bench outside Hackney Central station, Feliks Janiszewski thumbs the scrumpled pages of yesterday’s abandoned newspaper. Pulling his thick-knit grey hat down further over his unkempt hair, he braces himself against the February chill. This time last week Feliks had a roof over his head and a hot meal in his stomach – but not tonight. The bench that cradles him now has done so for the past week and has been the closest he has come to shelter. “This is it,” he says humbly, “this is my home.”

Even if he may feel it, Feliks is not alone. The 27-year old Pole who moved to London from Krakow in 2006 is just one of the 1590 Eastern European migrants who are thought to sleep rough on the capital’s streets every night, making up 35 per cent of London’s homeless.

Although homeless for over a year, sanctuary from the hazards of street life used to be available for Feliks. Every evening he would attend the specifically Eastern European homeless shelter run by the charity Thames Reach, in Hackney. But last week the centre, based in a Methodist Church on Mare Street, was forced to close due to chronic funding shortages. Gone were the English lessons, the hot meals, the advice on employment and healthcare, and most importantly the bed for a night – Feliks now has nothing as he sits on his bench, his hopes and aspirations fading.

Martin Harris, who managed the shelter, said: “As a charity donations have been thin on the ground recently, whilst the numbers requiring our services have increased. We also run non-specialised homeless shelters in the area, and feel that we had no choice but to focus our funds on these, rather than favouring one specific group.”

Evidently saddened by having to turn away “clients” who really depended on him, Mr. Harris said: “Small voluntary organisations, such as Thames Reach, are increasingly feeling the financial burden of migrant homelessness – a problem that stems from government policy failures.”

He described how the government was only too willing to welcome the flood of migrants with one hand in order to boost the British economy, but swept away any semblance of a safety net for times of hardship with the other. “It seems that if A8 nationals [those from countries that joined the EU in 2004] fall into trouble after six months the government just wishes them good luck,” he said.

Unable to claim job seeker’s allowances and housing benefits during their first year in Britain, many Eastern European migrants find themselves unemployed and homeless with little option but to rely on homeless charities for help.

“These people really need help,” said Mr. Harris, “but the resources just won’t stretch far enough to cater for them adequately.”

Figures published by Broadway, a national homeless charity, indicate the significant increase in demand on homeless resources. For winter 2006/7 their shelters in London catered for 1580 people, whereas this winter that figure rose to 2017, with 200 people having to be turned away.

But Hackney Council remains insistent that despite cutbacks and increased demands, services are still readily available for Eastern European homeless migrants.

Councillor Nargis Khan, the Hackney cabinet member for community services, said: “Sadly the Thames Reach service was not financially viable, but there are plenty of services out there for homeless people, funded by the council and other charities, so no-one will be without support.”

Those already on the streets, however, are quick to refute such statements.

For Feliks, rakishly thin and with the hardship of living on London’s streets clearly etched onto his pale skin, every other door he has tried has been closed. “A take away owner up the road gives me his leftovers when he shuts down, but that is the closest I have come to help. All the shelters have turned me down because they are already full,” he said.

In feeling desolate and vulnerable he is, again, not alone.

Devyn Sawicki, 32, also relied on the services offered by Thames Reach, but has since been denied shelter at night and has suffered at the hands of another funding cutback – the reduction in the number of translators employed at homeless centres.

Thames Reach, Crisis, and the Christopher Addison House – the largest homeless centre in Hackney – have all admitted having to significantly reduce the number of Eastern European translators they employ over the past six months due to a chronic shortage of funds. Crisis have been significantly effected and no longer employ any of the three translators who used to work at their non-specific homeless centre on Clapton Road.

A spokesman for the homeless charity said: “It is a situation which deeply concerns us, but without the money we have little option.”

The combined effect of these cutbacks is having a crippling effect on the Eastern European migrants struggling to get to their feet on British soils.

With Feliks translating, Devyn explained: “I need help with English, and job applications are a nightmare without translators. At [the Eastern European homeless shelter] we received English lessons and assistance with forms but now that has all stopped. I feel that people like me are being abandoned and our needs set aside because we do not have a British passport.”

Furthermore stretched resources are sparking international feuds within London’s street communities, with Eastern European migrants becoming increasingly ostracised.

Devyn revealed the bruises that he still carries following a run-in, four nights previously, with two British men as they wrestled outside a shelter for the right to a bed for the night. “I feel bad being forced to go to general shelters because it makes British homeless people angry”, he says pulling his red sweater down to recover his battle wounds. “They feel we are taking beds from under them and food from their mouths, but we have no choice. They are becoming like animals, territorial.”

For people like Feliks and Devyn the situation is already critical. With no access to shelter – and therefore no fixed address – and no help with grappling the English language, both are unlikely to be able to secure any permanent form of work. On top of that, they are increasingly facing racial hatred every time they try to seek much needed help.

And the problem looks set to get worse. Hackney may be the first London borough to be visibly facing this crisis, and certainly the only one to be admitting it, but it is unlikely to be the last. Martin Harris, from Thames Reach revealed that the charity “may have to cutback on other specific centres and services across London, over the next year if funding does not pick up.” He further admitted to knowing about other homeless charities that would be feeling a similar strain and considering the same options, but could not reveal their identities.

Conditions for many A8 nationals are already so bad that charities such as the Barka Foundation have started to pay for desperate Poles to fly home. But for those who remain life could be tough. With economic conditions looking set to deteriorate, homeless shelters across London will continue to feel the strain and A8 nationals will feel the brunt.

“Having lured these migrants to British shores with the offer of riches, the government now needs to take responsibility and come to their aid”, said Mr. Harris. For Feliks, slumped on his bench and rubbing his hands against the cold, assistance cannot come soon enough.

Language barriers

Interviewing has always been the aspect of journalism that fascinates me. It's the ability to meet someone for the first time, develop a relationship with them and get them to open up to you.

I have had a fair bit of practice at this now, and have had to overcome some difficult interviewees and awkward situations, but I would like to believe that I can usually get the information I need. But as I conducted an interview this weekend a whole new hurdle was thrown into the mix - langauge barriers.

As part of another Home Affairs assignment I went to Hackney to interview a homeless Polish immigrant.

I met Devyn on his own. As I sat down next to him and started to introduce myself I suddenly became aware that he barely spoke a word of English. Together our conversation stumbled around in a half-mix of Polish and English until his friend Feliks arrived, whose English was near perfect. The rest of the interview was then conducted more fluidly with Feliks as the translator.

But realistically, how did I know that Feliks was translating accurately? Did he have his own agenda?

As journalists we are so dependent on the English language, and from my work experience placements on newspaper across the country I don't think I have ever come across permanent translators.

Are journalists then restricted to only interviewing those with good English, unless a translator can be found in time? If that is the case then potentially a huge proportion of our communities have lost their voice in the media.

Without Feliks I would not have been able to conduct the interview that day, and if I was working to a tight deadline the absence of a translator would have made the story collapse.

But furthermore it must be questioned - how accurate can journalism be when translators have to be relied upon? So much can depend on a certain turn of phrase, or the exact word used by someone. When a sentence is simplified or altered ever so slightly, nuances can be lost.