‘It’s Sellafield or nothing’: what life is like growing up i...

It is a rainy Thursday in Whitehaven on the north-west coast of England, but the seafront is buzzing with activity. This Saturday is Harbour Fest, a day of music, performance and activities. An array of colourful street food vendors are already setting up.

It’s unusual to see such excitement on the seafront, says 18-year-old Lacey Ritson. Growing up, Lacey and her friends would gravitate to picturesque Saint Bees along the coast or the nearby Lake District if they wanted to spend time by the water. And sometimes, she says, “we’d sit by the river and look at people, guessing who worked at Sellafield – like, ‘they’ve got a nice car – they’re from Sellafield’”.

Sellafield, Europe’s largest nuclear site, looms large in Whitehaven at the centre of Britain’s “nuclear coast”. While it has not generated energy since 2003, decommissioning is expected to take until at least 2125. Between Sellafield Ltd and its wider supply chain, the site employs about 60,000 workers, more than 80% from Cumbria.

The result is that everybody “either works at Sellafield or knows people who do”, says Lacey, whose mum, aunt and cousins all work on the site. Whitehaven’s young people have their own group speak: “Sellafield traffic” for the tailbacks on surrounding roads at home time each weekday; “Sellafield payday” as shorthand in hospitality for a busy weekend. Teenagers talk casually about “going into nuclear”.

The nuclear sector’s influence is also felt economically: each year, Sellafield Ltd, its supply chain and the Nuclear Decommissioning Authority (NDA), which owns the site, provide millions of pounds worth of funding for local projects, from the redevelopment of Whitehaven’s former bus station to the creation of a new digital and gaming hub, and the cleanup of local rivers. This summer, the main stage at Pride was sponsored by engineering firm Mott MacDonald.

“I’d say round here you are helped a lot more than other coastal towns just because of Sellafield and the companies that supply them,” Lacey says.

Just over half of the population of Whitehaven (and neighbouring town Workington) are in work, a figure slightly below the England average, but there are notably more in apprenticeships than the country average.

For those who want to work at the nuclear plant, the career path can be lucrative, with apprentices earning up to about £30,000 at Sellafield Ltd. But those who want something different can find themselves feeling cut off.

At Soundwave, a music charity in Whitehaven town centre, 15-year-old Cole McAvoy is one of those forging a different path. He also attends art sessions at the LGBTQ+ cafe Colours, run by Proud and Diverse Cumbria whose sponsors include Morgan Sindall and engineering consultancy firm Arup. But he feels there is little else in Whitehaven for creative young people.

“We had a career day at school with people from different workplaces and 99% of them were from Sellafield. It kind of makes you feel like there’s just Sellafield or nothing,” he says.

Over the next year, the Against the Tide project from the Guardian’s Seascape team will be reporting on the lives of young people in coastal communities across England and Wales.

Young people in many of England's coastal towns are disproportionately likely to face poverty, poor housing, lower educational attainment and employment opportunities than their peers in equivalent inland areas. In the most deprived coastal towns they can be left to struggle with crumbling and stripped-back public services and transport that limit their life choices.

For the next 12 months, accompanied by the documentary photographer Polly Braden, we will travel up and down the country to port towns, seaside resorts and former fishing villages to ask 16- to 25-year-olds to tell us about their lives and how they feel about the places they live.

By putting their voices at the front and centre of our reporting, we want to examine what kind of changes they need to build the futures they want for themselves.

Cole McAvoy, 15 Photograph: Polly Braden/The Guardian

“As soon as you get into GCSEs it feels as if they’re pushing you to do triple science and engineering. Those subjects go on trips, they’ve got all this equipment, but if you study art you’re just in a tiny classroom and the teachers and students are bringing in the equipment themselves.”

There is also a high turnover in school staff, Cole says, with many teachers leaving for higher-paying careers in the nuclear sector.

In the town centre, at the Whitehaven Foyer, which provides temporary accommodation for young people, Sellafield is far from residents’ minds, despite Arup renting office space here. Many of those living here are care-experienced or have experienced poor mental health; the number of young people in care and the number of mental health hospital admissions in the area are higher here than nationally.

This town would fall apart without Sellafield … other communities mirror ours but they just don’t have this level of investment
Emma Williamson, Cumberland council

James, 19, has a Jobcentre appointment this afternoon but isn’t optimistic; he has been trying unsuccessfully to get construction work for months in order to support his partner and two-year-old son. Mason, 17, is due to begin a college course next week but hasn’t been able to get the art supplies he needs, because he can’t afford the train fare to Carlisle. “Nuclear isn’t really a thing for us,” he says. “We’re just thinking about how we’re going to get money for what we need.”

Emma Williamson, deputy leader of Cumberland council, and portfolio holder for children’s services, says that, for her, the nuclear sector’s impact is clear. “This town would fall apart without Sellafield,” she says. “I go to other communities that mirror ours but they just don’t have this level of investment.”

But, she says, that doesn’t make it a solution for everybody. “We know that for those that are going to achieve, the opportunities are there,” she says. “But we need to be picking up all our young people and making sure there is a place for all kinds of jobs and opportunities.”

Last month, the government announced that parts of South Whitehaven would receive £20m of investment over the next decade from its Pride in Place programme for “overlooked” communities. A residents’ survey about how the money should be spent has already highlighted the need for better youth facilities and opportunities for young people, says Williamson.

Suzanne Wilson, a research fellow at the University of Lancashire who works with communities in Whitehaven, says that despite the town’s connection to a leading employer, many of its young people face a lot of the same issues as they do in more deprived coastal places. “We are quite remote and public transport is unreliable,” she says. “And that affects what opportunities feel accessible to them.”

She previously worked alongside the council on the university’s Connected Communities project, in which a group of girls from Whitehaven carried out their own community research and projects, including setting up a dementia cafe when they found that older people were more likely to experience loneliness. “It showed the passion and empathy young people have for their local community, and how important it is to recognise their insight, skill and compassion and work with them to create opportunities.”

Despite its sizable impact on their lives, Sellafield remains mysterious and inaccessible to many of Whitehaven’s young people, most of whom have never visited. One told of her excitement about an upcoming apprenticeship on site, but withdrew her contribution when she began work and was told she could not be quoted for confidentiality reasons. (The company’s press office told the Guardian that they ask colleagues to inform them before any media engagement and prefer to review quotes before publication.)

Jamie Reed, director of socio-economics at the NDA, was unable to meet the Guardian and local young people. In response to questions about whether all of Whitehaven’s young people were benefiting equally from Sellafield’s impact, Reed wrote in a statement: “One of our areas of focus is investing in developing Stem skills in young people so we have a pipeline of talent, but it’s important to us that we fund a diverse range of projects.

“Across West Cumbria and the UK these include projects which provide mental health support, tackle issues around poverty and social inclusion, support innovation in the supply chain, and improve and protect the environment.”

For Lacey, who attended Energy Coast University Technical College, which is funded in part by the NDA and heavily invested in by the construction firm Morgan Sindall, a career in nuclear was always a consideration. And yet, she says, “I didn’t want to go and work there just because it’s what so many other people do.” Instead, she will soon begin an architecture degree at Newcastle University, one of only two peers going into higher education, most of the rest applying for nuclear apprenticeships.

At home, as she packs her belongings ready to leave, Lacey is contemplative. “I’ve never really thought much before about how Sellafield affects people, because it’s just something that has always been there,” she says, shrugging. “It’s just part of growing up in Whitehaven.”

Callout

The Against the Tide series is a collaboration between the Guardian and the documentary photographer Polly Braden