I’m proud to be from Bolton. There were days in the past when I never thought I’d say that. Because when I was growing up, in the 1980s, I used to hate Bolton. It wasn’t the most accepting or nurturing place for a sensitive, creative, gay child like me. I became convinced that in order to become the person I was meant to be, I had to get out.
Manchester became my escape, my salvation. As a city with a much bigger population, it seemed to welcome minorities. It had a thriving arts and music scene and was a hub for the national media. Crucially, for a bullied and lost queer teen like me, it had the Gay Village.
To the dismay of my proudly Lancastrian parents, I started to tell people I was from Greater Manchester, the county to which Bolton belonged after the boundaries were redrawn in 1974, a few months before I was born.
So I fully understand why the University of Bolton has applied to change its name to the University of Greater Manchester. Because I too had a rebrand. And, like its graduates – whose prospects, the vice-chancellor argues, are adversely affected by prejudice towards the town – I’ve encountered cultural snobbery.
When I took up a place at Cambridge University, I already felt like the odd one out because of my state school education, so would bristle when people commented on my strong accent or asked me to repeat certain words, like “fair hair”, “baby” and “Coke”.
At Cambridge I was often treated like a curiosity, or a cute pet who could perform a trick. Sometimes it was more sinister: one tutor would make me read my work aloud so my peers would laugh. I still lie awake at night plotting my revenge. Joking apart, fighting this prejudice could be exhausting.
When I moved to London, initially to work in TV, then journalism, the snobbery continued. But I noticed that people tended to like me, without me having to try very hard. I soon realised this was only because they were fitting me into the pre-existing idea they had of someone from a northern town like Bolton. “What, you went to Cambridge?” they’d sometimes let slip. Or “you’re actually really clever”, that “actually” revealing more about them than it did about me.
When I made my debut on screen as Channel 4 News’ culture editor, viewer responses were positive, commenting that I was warm, had a strong character and seemed approachable. “I’m just from Bolton,” I’d joke to my boss. Again, I didn’t have to try very hard.
Still, it took me a while to embrace my home town. The scars ran deep. I was lucky enough to travel extensively with my media career. I encountered some great places to live but also some terrible places. This made me re-evaluate my feelings about Bolton. One thing I learned was that most parts of the world weren’t very accepting of gay people in the 80s – and many still aren’t. The thing that made me most want to get out of Bolton was true of pretty much every small town in the UK. It’s just that, before the online revolution, I couldn’t see this.
Now I love going home, to marvel at the beauty of Le Mans Crescent and the Lancashire moors. To hear words like “mithering” for “pestering”, or chip “barm”, rather than “butty”. And to eat my mum’s potato pie or corned beef hash, with plenty of red cabbage. At my wedding last December, I insisted on serving a selection of regional favourites: Carr’s pasties, lancashire cheese and Bank Top Brewery’s Flat Cap ale, all of it transported down from Bolton.
I explored my relationship with my home town in my first novel, The Madonna of Bolton. It’s the story of a young gay boy clinging on to Madonna and her music to help him survive a tough childhood. When promoting the book and discussing my background, I discovered there was a widespread warmth towards Bolton. Most people I’ve met have positive perceptions of the town. Yes, these can sometimes still be patronising. Often people look down on people from Bolton as somehow simple-minded or less sophisticated than people from Manchester. But I’d argue that this is outweighed by the associations with friendliness, a down-to-earth spirit and a strong sense of community. As I often joke to my publisher, coming from Bolton does half my marketing for me.
That’s why I was thrilled to go back to my home town for the first ever Bolton Pride, in 2015, when I stood on the steps of the town hall and made an emotional speech celebrating how much more accepting it’s become of queer people. That’s why, in 2021, I was thrilled to accept an honorary doctorate from the University of Bolton. And that’s why I no longer tell anyone I’m from Greater Manchester, but from Bolton, Lancashire.
So I’d plead with the vice-chancellor of Bolton University not to change its name. But to keep fighting for the reputation of a town that’s very special. A town I’m proud to call home.
Matt Cain is the author of the novels Becoming Ted, The Madonna of Bolton and The Secret Life of Albert Entwistle. He was formerly editor-in-chief of Attitude and culture editor of Channel 4 News
