Connecting with Birmingham: A Personal Journey

10 years after moving away, we went for a family visit to Birmingham. How did it make me feel?

Birmingham has been in the news recently. Black Sabbath were awarded the freedom of the city in June 2025. Back to the Beginning was the name of the star-studded farewell concert held at Villa Park the following month. Ozzy Osbourne, their lead-singer, was from Aston, just two years older and living a few streets away from my dad. His mum and my grandfather (alongside most of Aston) both worked at the Lucas factory in Aston.

I talk about my special connection to Birmingham in my book. I was born there and lived and worked there as an adult. I remember returning to visit this mysterious city with my parents as a child, going there for Villa matches and my parents’ dismay at my decision to move back to the dark and dangerous place.

Birmingham is one of the first “super diverse” cities in the UK. According to the Birmingham City Observatory, over half of its residents from ethnic minorities. And young too, with half the residents under 35. Just being on the edge of the bustling flow of shoppers on New Street reminded me that in the village I live in, or even on the streets of Oxfordshire market towns, I am usually in a minority of one. But hey, I’m used to being the only one. But in Birmingham, I don’t feel different. I’m surrounded by so much diversity that I just felt like just another person.

Amongst the snack food pop-ups in the Bullring was a vendor of colourful cubes to appeal to sweet-toothed shoppers from Indian backgrounds. The staff of shops represented every background, I felt any one of them would be happy to have a genuine conversation with me. Even the security officers seemed friendly and at ease. With an overall crime rate in 2025 of 102 crimes per 1,000 people, Birmingham is one of the most dangerous cities in the UK.  When you feel at home somewhere, maybe you overlook the jagged edges.

As the sky suddenly darkened and the first spots of rain flew through the wind, I remembered the wildly changeable weather, the unusual biting cold and strong wind. The kind of wind that rips your umbrella out of your hand! Birmingham sits on the Birmingham Plateau, which ranges from 150 to 300 meters above sea level. This higher elevation and the effects of its many tall buildings help make it so cold and windy. Birmingham is also twinned with Chicago, known as The Windy City.

Even in the 10 years since my last visit, change has been constant. The bus stop at the top of Edmund Street where I waited for my bus every evening now boasts a perspex shelter. I suddenly remembered many nights with my back pressed up against the adjacent buildings to shelter from the driving rain as I waited for my bus. I felt things had moved on without me. Is this what progress feels like?

Some of the buildings I knew had gone and had been replaced, trams had returned to some of the city streets after an absence of 72 years. Chamberlain House where I used to work had been demolished in just 2 days in 2018. It was a sterile and soulless modern building that I am convinced that its air conditioning contributed to my seemingly continuous throat infections. It’s replacement looks equally soulless. The other, Louisa Ryland House is still there. An amalgam of three buildings  built in 1879, it is a grade 2 listed building today. You can still see the office window on the first floor that I used to watch people and traffic climb the hill outside. When we went halfway down Newhall street to see it, Helen asked “How ever did you get up this big hill?” “I pushed myself” I replied grimly, “Every. Single. Day.” I made a huge physical effort make Birmingham my home; that has bound us together forever.

Outside the library was a large flat area being used by people on wheels. There were not many people about, a few teenage girls practicing a dance routine in one corner, a street-skater with dreadlocks whizzed past, backwards. People sharing outdoor spaces for exercise and entertainment reminded me of Central Park in New York. I couldn’t resist. “Who wants to see me go on there?” I asked my family, not expecting an answer. Amidst the groans, I joined for a couple of lazy figure of eights. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur moving very quickly towards me. Before I could react, the young rollerblader shot past me, missing me by inches. In that instant I knew that this wasn’t a threat or an attempt to intimidate me, but a playful display of welcome. I Looked up at him and grinned widely, showing I appreciated his move. He grinned back.

We visited Black Sabbath bridge, laden with floral tributes and saw the purple bunting that still decorated the pedestrianised city centre streets as Ozzy’s coffin passed through a few days before. It proudly announced that Sabbath were Brum’s own. Like Birmingham is not just a place, but a concept. Similar to how Aston Villa fans used to sing about Jack Grealish being “one of our own”, people can belong to these massive structures forever.

I don’t know if my kids heard me constantly pointing out where I used to work or where I used to get the bus or train from, but I hope they felt my feeling of belonging, my happiness at being around familiar places. Of coming home.

Richard C Brown MBE – August 2025