How Barnsley is coming to terms with Tier 3 lockdown – Jayne Dowle

If there is one quality which will keep us going through Tier 3 lockdown in Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham, it’s the ability to raise a cynical eyebrow at the absurdity of life. “Things could be worse,” an older lady of my acquaintance said to me. “We could be Welsh.”

And although 1.4m of us are living under strictures that have curtailed socalising, none of us have experienced before, at least we can still buy a kettle, unlike Wales, where supermarkets have been told to fence off all ‘non-essential’ goods for the next fortnight.

However, it is often said that dark humour masks a deeper hurt. We have to laugh because the alternative, to dwell on the long-term consequences of living under the harshest possible coronavirus restrictions for an indeterminate time is too grim to contemplate.

Since the new rules were announced, I’ve seen friends and relations in despair; those who own and run small businesses, those who employ others, those still looking for work six months after the pandemic began, and the older generation fearful about the prospects for their children and grand-children.

The feeling here is pragmatic – we know the infection-control related reasons why we’re in lockdown – but bitter. There’s a sense that, once again, South Yorkshire has been annexed from other, more prosperous parts of the North, and with no redress.

I know only too well the national judgements made about Barnsley, where I live. It’s been interesting to watch TV crews descend on the town and handle coverage which can so easily descend into easy cliché; former mining town, still home to Tory nemesis Arthur Scargill, full of people with an axe to grind.

They certainly found their poster girl in Maureen Eames, the indomitable 83-year-old from Notton who told reporters that she wouldn’t be ‘fastened in’ her house.

To be fair, the coverage has been pretty balanced, although it would be improved if certain broadcasters could remember that Mr Jarvis is metro mayor of the whole ‘Sheffield City Region’, not just Sheffield.

I digress. The real story rests far from the bright lights in front of our splendid Town Hall. The irony of this location has not been lost on some of us. It was built at substantial cost after the Depression of the 1930s, when many in the town were unemployed and living in poverty.

I’ll leave you to draw your own analogy there. What I can tell you is that a huge number of businesses, shops, pubs, cafes and any number of enterprises will find it unfeasible to trade during Tier 3, let alone afterwards.

It has been tough enough this year already that bankruptcy now looms – so much for Chancellor Rishi Sunak’s airy promise of ‘bounce-back’ loans this summer.

The ‘bounce’ has fizzled out like a burst balloon; personal and business debt hangs heavy and those embracing arms now feel like a harsh cold shoulder.

Mr Jarvis is proud that he’s managed to secure a £41m economic support package from the Government, but everyone I talk to here in Barnsley wants to know how and when this money will be distributed.

And this is the attitude I am most worried about. I never bought that ‘all in this together’ line, even at the start of the pandemic. I was already witnessing the divisions national lockdown was creating, even within families; employees who were furloughed, those supported by employers (typically public services) to work comfortably from home, the self-employed, the so-called ‘gig economy’, and those who were unemployed.

Now, six months on, entirely entrenched, these divisions are being pushed to the limit. This is very different from the miners’ strikes of the 1980s, when communities did unite under a common cause and shops were never ordered to close.

This is something new; nasty, fearful, already worn down by a decade of austerity and polarised by Brexit. The Archbishop of York, together with the Bishops of Leeds and Manchester, is right to warn about devastating social consequences of restrictions, irreversible damage to communities and potential unrest.

If you want to know what life in Tier 3 feels like when the cameras stop rolling, smiling through gritted teeth just about sums it up.

Support The Yorkshire Post and become a subscriber today. Your subscription will help us to continue to bring quality news to the people of Yorkshire. In return, you’ll see fewer ads on site, get free access to our app and receive exclusive members-only offers. Click here to subscribe.