White Hart Lane

Tottenham was my home. It was the council house on Nursery Street my mum was raised in by her grandparents. The same roof she would later raise my sister and I under. It was where I could hear a goal in the spurs ground from the living room window, before seeing it on live TV. It was where I went trick or treating on Halloween and where our family car was stolen and destroyed after a joyride. It was where my great-granddad, Stan, would get away with taking a three-year-old me into the bookies, because they knew and liked him so much. Tottenham is also where he spent his final moments. Like all these memories, Tottenham is a neighbourhood of complexity. Areas of poverty are surrounded by prosperity. Council homes are next door to million-dollar penthouse apartments. Food banks and £7 craft pints are on the same street. The presence of the new billion-dollar football stadium and the eyes that it brings to the area cannot be understated. This development has caused a dramatic increase in high-rise building projects and ‘new money’ residents. The periphery of this glass colosseum, however, does not reflect this economic change. Instead, the blocks of flats, locally named ‘Love Lane’, and the neighbouring high street are completely overshadowed by the stadium with no so-called trickle-down effect, but rather a clear divide. Many longtime members of the community now also fear the loss of their homes and businesses. It is this community that I have chosen to focus on.