It was only a white t-shirt (pictured below). “I [heart] MCR” emblazoned on it. Translated to mean, “I Love Manchester”. I was dashing between two late afternoon appointments when it caught my attention yesterday. There it was, in that listless souvenir shop window at the Manchester Town Hall.
It made me question my “love-hate” relationship with Manchester.
“Love”, in that Manchester has been a home away from home during the past four odd years that I have resided here. A period during which my career has developed. A place where I have met many great personalities. A city where I have experienced many great moments with my wife, and countless more with family and friends who have visited us here. A city that has grown in confidence right before my very eyes, and made me feel like I have been growing with it. A city that, for all intents and purposes, I love.
“Hate”, in that I still feel like an outsider in Manchester. It is a city still struggling to embrace just how cosmopolitan it has become. A city that has outgrown the mind-set of many of its natives. A city where it is not uncommon to draw cold stares when I walk into certain establishments. A city with pockets of deprivation in the shadows of its ever-mushrooming buildings.
So it was more than just the white t-shirt I saw in that shop window. Instead, I saw a mirror. A mirror reflecting a city struggling to find itself and its soul. A mirror reflecting an African, navigating the contradictions of a growing English city.
