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'Nigger’ to her neighbours, and those who thrust National
Front (NF) hate mail through her door. ‘Black cunt’ to the kids
pushing lighted paper and matches into the window of her two-year-old
daughter’s bedroom.
She won’t crack in front of me. And I don’t tell her that the
current NF leadership have offered to meet with me. But she does care,
when it comes to her kids. ‘No one’s going to ’urt my kids.
No one.’
She’s had bricks through the windows, eggs thrown against the walls.
Been called a ‘black bastard’ by mothers of other kids, when
she collects her boy from school and seen her boy and girl called ‘little
black bastards’ by those same women. ‘I’ll put ‘em
six feet under if that little black fucker comes near me!’ screams
one mum. A mother, not a tattooed neo-nazi.
I’m reminded of the scenes at the Holy Cross Primary school in Northern
Ireland, when Catholic kids have to endure a wall of hatred and need police
protection to walk through a Protestant estate. The sheer hate and fear
rippling through the faces truly terrify me, because I’ve been and
seen places where this can lead.
‘I even had a bloke come up to me on a bus,’ Julie says, ‘who
said he was going to rape me. That was after they’d already tried
to run me down on a motorbike.’
‘I just hate those people now,’ she says, not even looking me
in the eye. ‘What else can you say about them? About a whole place
– my entire estate – when this goes on? With me kids crying
all the time, getting beaten up. When even a little white girl can come
up to me, at me own door, and call me a ‘black bastard’. Where
do you think she learns that, eh?’
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