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Laurie Penny: it was no cup of tea inside the Whitehall police kettle

Police violence against children.

It's the coldest day of the year, and I've just spent seven hours being kettled in Westminster. That sounds jolly, doesn't it? It sounds a bit like I went and had a lovely cup of tea with the Queen, rather than being trapped into a freezing pen of frightened teenagers and watching baton-wielding police kidney-punching children, six months into a government that ran an election campaign on a platform of fairness. So before we go any further, let's remind ourselves precisely what kettling is, and what it's for.

Take a protest, one whose premise is uncomfortable for the administration -- say, yesterday's protest, with thousands of teenagers from all over London walking out of lessons and marching spontaneously on Westminster to voice their anger at government cuts to education funding that will prevent thousands from attending college and university. Toss in hundreds of police officers with riot shields, batons, dogs, armoured horses and meat wagons, then block the protesters into an area of open space with no toilets, food or shelter, for hours. If anyone tries to leave, shout at them and hit them with sticks. It doesn't sound like much, but it's effective.

I didn't understand quite how bad things had become in this country until I saw armoured cops being deployed against schoolchildren in the middle of Whitehall. These young people joined the protest to defend their right to learn, but in the kettle they are quickly coming to realise that their civil liberties are of less consequence to this government than they had ever imagined The term "kettle" is rather apt, given that penning already-outraged people into a small space tends to make tempers boil and give the police an excuse to turn up the heat, and it doesn't take long for that to happen. When they understand that are being prevented from marching to parliament by three lines of cops and a wall of riot vans, the kids at the front of the protest begin to moan. "It's ridiculous that they won't let us march," says Melissa, 15, who has never been in trouble before. "We can't even vote yet, we should be allowed to have our say."

The chant goes up: "What do we want? The right to protest!" At first, the cops give curt answers to the kids demanding to know why they can't get through. Then they all seem to get some sort of signal, because suddenly the polite copper in front of me is screaming in my face, shoving me hard in the back of the head, raising his baton, and the protesters around me are yelling and running back. Some of them have started to shake down a set of iron railings to get out, and the cops storm forward, pushing us right through those railings, leaving twenty of us sprawling in the rubble of road works with cracked knees. When they realised that they are trapped, the young protesters panic. The crush of bodies is suddenly painful -- my scarf is ripped away from me and I can hear my friend Clare calling for her son -- and as I watch the second line of police advance, with horses following behind them, as a surge of teenagers carry a rack of iron railings towards the riot guard and howl to be released, I realise they're not going to stop and the monkey instinct kicks in. I scramble up a set of traffic lights, just in time to see a member of the Metropolitan police grab a young protester by the neck and hurl him back into the crowd.

Behind me, some kids have started to smash up a conveniently empty old police van that's been abandoned in the middle of the road. "Let us out!" they chant. "Let us out!" A 13-year old girl starts to hyperventilate, tears squeezing in raw trails over her frightened face, unable to tear her face away from the fight -- I put a hand on her back and hurry her away from the police line. Her name is Alice and she is from a private school. "Just because I won't be affected by the EMA cuts doesn't mean I don't care about the government lying," she says, "but I want to go home now. I have to find my friend."

As darkness falls and we realise we're not going anywhere, the protesters start to light fires to keep warm. First, they burn their placards, the words "Rich parents for all!" going up in flames, with a speed and efficiency gleaned from recent CV-boosting outdoor camping activities. Then, as the temperature drops below freezing, they start looking for anything else to burn, notebooks and snack wrappers -- although one young man in an anarchist scarf steps in to stop me tossing an awful historical novel onto the pyre. "You can't burn books," he says, "we're not Nazis."

As I look around at this burned-out children's crusade, I start to wonder where the hell the student activists are. Whatever the news says, this is emphatically not a rabble led by a gang of determined troublemakers out to smash things for fun. In fact, we could do with a few more seasoned radicals here, because they tend to know what to do at demonstrations when things get out of hand. I find myself disappointed in the principled anarchists and student activists I know, who aren't here because they've decided that the best way to make their presence felt is by occupying their own lecture halls. I realise that these school pupils are the only ones who really understand what's going on: even people my age, the students and graduates who got in just before the fee hike, are still clinging to the last scraps of that dream of a better future, still a little bit afraid to make a fuss. These teenagers, on the other hand, know that it's all nonsense. They sat their school exams during the worst recession in living memory, and they aren't taken by the promise of jobs, of education, of full lives and safe places to live. They understand that those things are now reserved for the rich, and the white heat of their rage is a comfort even behind the police lines in this sub-zero chill.

Smaller children and a pregnant woman huddle closer to the fires. Everyone is stiff and hungry, and our phones are beginning to lose signal: the scene is Dante-esque, billows of smoke and firelight making it unclear where the noises of crying and chanting and the whine of helicopters are coming from.

This is the most important part of a kettle, when it's gone on for too long and you're cold and frightened and just want to go home. Trap people in the open with no water or toilets or space to sit down and it takes a shockingly short time to reduce ordinary kids to a state of primitive physical need. This is savage enough when it's done on a warm summer day to people who thought to bring blankets, food and first aid. It's unspeakably cruel when it's done on the coldest night of the year, in sub-zero temperatures, to minors, some of whom don't even have a jumper on.

Some of them have fainted and need medical attention, some need the loo. They won't let us out. That's the point of a kettle. They want to make you uncomfortable and then desperate, putting your route back to warmth and safety in the gift of the agents of the state. They decide when you can get back to civilisation. They decide when the old people can get warm, when the diabetics can get their insulin, when the kid having a panic attack can go home to her mum. It's a way of making you feel small and scared and helpless, a way for the state's agents to make you feel that you are nothing without them, making you forget that a state is supposed to survive by mandate of the people, and not the other way around.

Strangers draw together around the makeshift campfires in this strange new warzone right at the heart of London. A schoolgirl tosses her homework diary to feed the dying flames. "I don't even know you, but I love you," says another girl, and they hug each other for warmth. "Hands up who's getting a bollocking from their parents right now?" says a kid in a hoodie, and we all giggle.

He's got a point. This morning, the parents and teachers of Britain woke up angry, in the sure and certain knowledge that the administration they barely elected is quite prepared to hurt their children if they don't do as they are told.

It's not looking good for this government. This spontaneous, leaderless demonstration, this children's crusade, was only the second riot in two weeks, and now that the mums and dads of Britain are involved, the coalition may quickly begin to lose the argument on why slashing the state down to its most profitable parts and abandoning children, young people, the disabled and the unemployed to the cruel wheel of the market is absolutely necessary.

Let the government worry about the mums and dads, though -- I'm worried about the kids.

I'm worried about the young people I saw yesterday, sticking it out in the cold, looking after one another, brave and resolute. I'm worried about those school pupils who threw themselves in front of the police van to protect it from damage, the children who tried to stop other children from turning a peaceful protest into an angry mob -- and succeeded. I'm worried that today, those children feel like they've done something wrong, when they are, in fact, the only people in the country so far who've had the guts to stand up for what's right.

The point of a police kettle is to make you feel small and scared, to strike at the childish part of every person that's frightened of getting in trouble. You and I know, however, that we're already in trouble. All we get to decide is what kind of trouble we want to be in. Yesterday, the children of Britain made their decision, and we should be bloody proud of them today.

Read Laurie Penny's account of the original student protests, where dozens of students attacked the Conservative party's HQ here. You can follow her on Twitter here.

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

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Collaboration is the key to coalfields regeneration

When the last shift ended at Kellingley Colliery, North Yorkshire, in December 2015, it marked the end of deep coal mining in Britain. Since the early 1980s, over 250,000 jobs were lost in the industry and whilst regeneration efforts over the last 30 years have reclaimed sites, creating new housing and the infrastructure for new businesses and jobs, the scale of these losses was huge, and deep-seated social and economic problems remain.

The Coalfields Regeneration Trust was established in 1999. When we launched our first grant programme we were overwhelmed by the demand, however, this was simply a reflection of the need out there in the coalfields. Our name resonated with people who were incredibly proud of their communities and the contribution made by the coal industry to Britain’s prosperity.

Our independence meant we could be more flexible and responsive, and this helped us direct resources into communities where other funders struggled. Over the last 17 years our programmes have evolved and we have achieved some fantastic results for the 2,000,000 people who have benefited from our support. We have also gained a better understanding of the underlying issues that still impact on the quality of life in the coalfields. There are 5,500,000 million people living in Britain’s former mining communities and many do not enjoy the opportunities afforded in non-coalfield communities. While this inequity exists, we still have a job to do.

The key challenges

The greatest challenge is the fact that there are only 50 jobs per 100 workingage people in the coalfields. when you compare this figure to London (79), and the South-East (68), it doesn’t take much to recognise that there is a major problem here. The key factor is the number of businesses; the coalfields have significantly fewer businesses than non-coalfield communities. Unless this fundamental problem is addressed at scale, we will continue to see high levels of unemployment in our communities.

We also need to raise skill levels, or at least align skills to the local labour market. There are significant numbers of people who don’t have a qualification or are low skilled and this is a major barrier to competing for jobs. If new jobs are created we want our communities to be able to access them. For many people, it means an introduction to learning again and to do this they need to be engaged. It takes time to develop these relationships and build this confidence in people and the resources to make this happen are often lacking.

We also have a real issue with health in our communities. We have significant numbers of people experiencing long-term health problems that limit their day-to-day lives. It’s a major barrier for some people in accessing a training course or attending a job club but there are often low-cost solutions, such as ‘social prescribing’, that can make a real difference to the health of a person.

What the Trust can offer the coalfields

Right now we’re delivering an ambitious range of activities across England, Scotland and Wales. Everything from safeguarding community assets, developing community plans, engaging people through sport, helping people into work, supporting community organisations and creating new industrial space. I can’t remember a more exciting time in terms of how we want to work with our communities and we’ve got some fantastic partnerships with the private, public and voluntary sectors in the mix to help us. All our future activities will be geared to address our strategic themes of employment, skills and health and we will continue to collaborate to leverage additional resources into the coalfields.

We know we could do more and welcome the continued support of the Scottish and Welsh governments. We do, however, have a new and compelling proposition. Our aim is to create a £40 million investment fund for the coalfields, and we are inviting the English government to become a partner with us and contribute £30 million to match our commitment of £10 million. This will enable us to build 400,000 square feet of new industrial and commercial space, creating 1,000 jobs. Over 25 years this will generate £50 million in income, which we will invest in social impact projects generating £500 million in wellbeing value. We see this as a real legacy project for a generation to come.

We know this might seem an ambitious proposition in the current climate, but it’s a truly enterprising approach. Collaboration is at the heart of this and is the essential ingredient for all our future work. Without it we will not achieve the results we want for our communities.

About The Coalfields Regeneration Trust

The Coalfields Regeneration Trust is dedicated to supporting and improving the quality of life for the 5.5 million people living in the former mining communities of Britain. We have worked at the heart of many of these communities since 1999 and have a track record of delivering targeted programmes that have reached over two million people helping many thousands; back into work; to develop new skills and participate in activities that have improved their health.

There is compelling evidence that recognises the significant challenges that still remain and shows how coalfield communities lag behind national averages on multiple indices of deprivation. Our enterprising and innovative responses will address these challenges but we need the support of government and regional stakeholders to help us achieve the scale of impact required.

Employment
The employment rate in the largest UK coalfields is consistently lower than the rest of the country. On average, 14 per cent of adults in the coalfields are out of work on benefits, which is 40 per cent higher than the national average and double that of south-east England. The Coalfields Regeneration Trust has helped more than 25,500 people into work and created or safeguarded more than 5,500 jobs.

Skills

The proportion of the working-age population with low or no qualifications in the English coalfields is roughly 60 per cent higher than in London and 40 per cent higher than in south-east England. Thanks to the programmes The Coalfields Regeneration Trust has
supported, 1.3m people are now more highly skilled.

Health

A worrying 11.7 per cent of people living in the coalfields report long-term health problems, compared to 8.6 per cent nationally. Incapacity benefit is claimed by 8.4 per cent of adults of working age in the coalfields, which is 35 per cent higher than the national average and almost double south-east England. The Coalfields Regeneration Trust has invested in projects that have improved the health of over 250,000 people

The proportion of
the working-age
population with low or
no qualifications in the
English coalfields is roughly 60 per
Employment
The employment rate
in the largest UK
coalfields is consistently
lower than the rest of
the country.
On average, 14 per cent of adults
in the coalfields are out of work on
benefits, which is 40 per cent higher
than the national average and double
that of south-east England.
The Coalfields Regeneration Trust has
helped more than 25,500 people into
work and created or safeguarded more
than 5,500 jobs.

For more information, visit www.coalfields-regen.org.uk