My day in Parliament

On Thursday 9th December students from Liverpool went down to London to lobby MPs to vote against the rise in tuition fees.

I walked around Westminster waiting for the coach from Liverpool to arrive. I’ve been to protests before but this was something else. Police vans were nose to tail all the way along the Embankment , Bridge Street and Parliament Square. Most of them were filled with police, many of whom rested their heads on the windows, asleep. Hundreds of police lined the fences of the Houses of Parliament. BBC and ITN news vans sat outside Port Cullis House, journalists and cameramen leant against them drinking coffee from polystyrene cups and smoking cigarettes. Commuters stopped to take photos. A crowd collected at the gates of Downing Street, not protestors.
The were no protestors yet. But everyone was waiting.

When the Liverpool group arrived, we queued at Port Cullis House with Councillor Nick Small. Other students were starting to arrive. We went through security and metal detectors, had photos of our faces taken.
A man came to collect us and we followed him down an escalator which went under the road. We came out in to daylight and were now looking at the backs of the police surrounding the fence.

Inside Parliament it was obvious that other students had already started lobbying MPs. There were pairs of students and MPs everywhere; sat on windowsills, huddled in corners. We passed one student standing on a staircase a few steps above an older man in a black suit. He was speaking loudly and passionately about the fears he had for his little brother who will be carrying around a £40k debt at 21.

The group was led up to a room where we waited for the five Liverpool MPs and watched the debate in the House of Commons on a screen in the corner. Some people stood, some leant against walls; the room was full.
Stephen Twigg came in first and students asked how likely it was that the vote would be in our favour (he said it was unlikely but we should still fight) and how best should we lobby MPs (talk from personal experience). One man who was then studying for his Phd told an inspirational story of his success at university despite the odds being stacked against him. He said that EMA and Aim Higher has been crucial for getting him there and that he wouldn’t have even considered Higher Education if fees were £9,000.

Luciana Berger, Steve Rotheram and Maria Eagle soon joined us. The group discussed the Tory cuts in general; one man asked the MPs ‘if you get in next time, will you put all this right?’

Once the discussion had come to an end the MPs went back to the House of Commons. We went down to the Central Lobby and filled in Green Cards to call the MPs from our parents’ constituency out.

The Lobby was packed full of duffle coats and rucksacks; every so often a name would be called over the speaker and student and MP would pair off and disappear down a corridor. Some MPs appeared out of the House of Commons and looked pleased to meet with their constituents, many recognised the student, others looked less happy and as though this wasn’t the first time today they had been lobbied.

Despite having received confirmation from my parents’ MP that morning that he would be voting against the rise I didn’t want to miss out on hearing other Liverpool students speaking to their MPS. I also wanted to bag a guest ticket up in to the viewing gallery which you could only get from an MP!

We had been waiting for twenty minutes when a small woman in a red suit started asking people to move on it they weren’t waiting to speak to anyone. She said that if we didn’t leave now we ran the risk of being locked in because the violence outside was so bad. I was quite happy to be locked in Parliament. A lot of people left at this point. We had no idea what was going on outside. As we’d walked around we hadn’t passed any windows that looked out on to the street. I tried to find out information through Twitter but it was difficult to get a picture of what was happening. Once we had obtained tickets and gone up to the viewing gallery we had our phones taken off us so for the next three hours we had no contact with anyone outside. On the way through security to get in to the viewing gallery I had an embarrassing moment when I was asked to empty my pockets and pulled out a pile of dog biscuits and poo bags. The biscuits were confiscated.

We watched the debate for three hours. When you’ve been used to watching Prime Minister’s Questions on the TV in your pyjamas and freely swearing at George Osbourne it’s difficult to stay quiet when Nick Clegg tells you trebling fees will actually encourage people to go to university.

Towards 5 o’clock more MPs trickled in and so many students were clamouring to get in to the viewing gallery that security let a couple stand at the back. George Osbourne looked up at us, Nick Clegg looked at his feet almost the entire time. We caught a glimpse of Gordon Brown walking behind Ed Miliband.

As MPs filed out to vote, students in the viewing gallery tried to guess who would vote what from conversations they had had during the day. It was a strange fifteen minutes. The positivity that had filled Parliament throughout the day with young people desperately trying to make a difference and change minds, the few Lib Dems who had begun the day seemingly on the fence and the ongoing protests outside all added up to make us think that maybe this was in our grasp. When tens of thousands of people come from all over the country to say no to something how could a couple of hundred people vote in favour?

When they announced we’d lost the Tories cheered, the viewing gallery was silent and we immediately stood up and left.

Police lined the stair case all the way down to the lobby and security told us to stay away from the protests. On the way in to the toilets there were wide screen TVs on the wall which showed a boy throwing a petrol bomb, a group of people in balaclavas using a piece of fence as a shield, police charging horses into a group of teenagers. These were the same police that had been sleeping in vans that morning.

We got outside, it was dark and very quiet. I expected chanting, burning placards, windows being smashed in. Police vans had been purposefully placed to make us turn left. I looked right. A sea of thousands of people caged in Parliament Square. The lights of phones flashed. The news was spreading.

We walked up along Millbank and turned left at Lambeth Bridge. Helicopters roared above and the road was filled with sirens, speeding police vans and police on horses. We passed a group of a dozen students huddled in a circle around a man who was addressing them.

‘We fought peacefully but we lost and I just want to thank you for all of your support.’

The Liverpool group turned right on the Albert Embankment to get the coach and I turned left to get the tube. As I turned on to Westminster Bridge a teenage boy approached me swaying and swearing. He fell against the side of the bridge and threw up over the side. You would have thought he was drunk if the blood wasn’t dripping from his head on to his t-shirt.