The Living Legacy of London 2012
Super Saturday. 4 August 2012.
It’s a day hardwired into so many of our memories. The day Team GB swept the board with six home gold medals at the London Olympics, including three in 44 minutes, and a day that is often named as one of the top sporting moments in British history.
It’s a night I remember clearly. I was nine months pregnant with my first child and her due date was the next day. I was a walking, talking heady cocktail of emotions and hormones – a bundle of nerves, mixed with a shot of excitement and garnished with a twist of boredom and frustration at being the size of a whale in the middle of a heat wave. I wanted this baby out so the next part of my life could begin but, at the same time, I was thoroughly enjoying the guilt-free excuse to watch non-stop Olympics until she arrived.
My brother came down to stay for the weekend and he, my boyfriend and I sat in our cramped London flat hoovering up any and all sport that came on. At this point, I was ready to try anything to get the baby out so I ordered the spiciest curry I could find on the takeaway menu and as it was uncomfortable for me to sit down for too long, I went to collect it instead of having it delivered.
I’ll always remember the walk back to my flat after I picked it up. It was a hot evening, one of those you get once or twice a year in London, when there’s a special smell in the air and anything seems possible. As I walked down the street, everyone had their windows open and all I could hear was cheering. I reached the front door and walked up the two flights of stairs, all the while hearing shouting from behind the closed doors on each floor. As I turned the key in the lock of our flat, my brother and my boyfriend were on their feet yelling at the tv screen. They were bellowing Mo Farah over the line in the 10,000 metres as if their shared breath could make the difference between him winning or losing. I realised that’s what I’d been hearing on my walk back from the takeaway. Every household in the area had been united in supporting Mo Farah to win.
I often think back to that night, and it seems particularly poignant now, exactly 12 years later and faced with a very different landscape in the UK to the one we had then. Back in 2012, I couldn’t wait to welcome my daughter to a country that celebrated its multi-cultural diversity and which was collectively proud when one of us won a medal at our home Olympics. It didn’t matter what we looked like, this was a country that supported each other, celebrated its victories together and consoled one another in defeat.
Fast forward to 2024 and, as I watch another Olympics, not so very far in distance to the event in London, it strikes me how far and how quickly we’ve moved backwards as a society. Now, instead of glowing national pride in celebration of each other’s achievements, the news is dominated by people burning down libraries and hotels that have been designated a place of safety for vulnerable people. In 2012, I was full of optimism and hope for the life of my daughter and now I feel scared and worried for her future. Is this truly what our country has become?
Britain has been through a lot since 2012. Years of austerity have resulted in near-fatal cuts to the most basic public services, such as the police and the NHS, which, combined with Covid and the cost of living crisis have left many of our most vulnerable communities feeling disempowered, unheard and unseen. It’s no wonder people are angry and frustrated. But blaming ‘immigrants’ is not the answer. They’re not the ones at fault here.
I believe that, at its best, the UK is one of the greatest countries in the world. And its power lies in being a caring, compassionate society that welcomes a multitude of people and recognises the contribution each one can make. I want my kids to grow up in the spirit of London 2012, not in the 2024 spirit of Rotherham, Liverpool, Plymouth or any of the other places where there’s been rioting these past few days. As the Olympics in Paris enter its final week, I’m reflecting on the past 12 years and remembering that gloriously joyful night, on 4 August 2012, when anything seemed possible and years of hard work, dedication and commitment turned into gold. It seems a timely moment to remember the Olympic values of Excellence, Respect and Friendship and to use them as a foundation to bring us together again.
