Many years ago, I lived in social housing in London before my family saved up to buy our first property. Those years have been on my mind as, like many others, I have listened intently to the heartbreaking stories of those who lived and died in Grenfell Tower, as the public inquiry finally has got under way.
I understand acutely the pain of those speaking out about their loss. Sitting in a public inquiry day after day, talking about your own grief while the world watches, is a very difficult thing to do. I know it really took its toll on me.
But these people are doing something essential – they are finally putting the names, faces, hopes and dreams to the 72 victims who, until now, have otherwise been a number. For that bravery and truth, we are all grateful.
In return, I believe we owe these families a proper debate about what must change. They have harnessed their anger and used it to push for an inquiry to take place. And then they have pushed again to make it more representative of the community.
It was the same for me when I was fighting for justice for my son, Stephen, after he was murdered. My anger became my motivation; it kept me driving forwards for years.
But there is another striking parallel between the Grenfell inquiry and that of my son – race and class play an undeniable part.
We like to think that we have moved on since Stephen was killed, and that race is no longer an issue, but of course it is. It is the elephant in the room inside the inquiry, and playing out via the Windrush scandal outside the inquiry.
Many of the people in Grenfell Tower were immigrants or refugees whom the authorities thought they could ignore. In fact, even worse than ignoring them, it felt to me that because of their race and background these tenants were met with an attitude from authorities of “you should be grateful that you have somewhere to live at all, so stop making a fuss”.
This institutional indifference meant they had no right to safety and no right to be heard.
Very few people in positions of power understand what this experience is like. I doubt they have ever had to live in poor housing or know what it is like to feel invisible, like no one cares.
And while the public inquiry will look just at Grenfell, I don’t believe that institutional indifference is limited to that community. It’s the same indifference that too often sees dismissive landlords protected by a system that allows them to ignore social tenants’ fears and concerns.
We owe it to all those affected to have a proper debate about changing this. That’s why I’m so glad to be part of the housing charity Shelter’s Big Conversation on social housing. The commission is looking nationally at what has gone wrong and how we can fix it, right across the country.
We all need to face facts. The stigma associated with being a social tenant is still very much alive and well and it’s the main reason such tenants end up being ignored.
The perpetual myth is that everyone in social housing is uneducated and in low-paid jobs. But as we have heard so far in the inquiry, Grenfell was home to a diverse mix of people, from NHS staff to artists and architects.
Not only is the myth not true but even if it were, it doesn’t mean that these people deserve to be ignored or less safe than others.
And yet social housing and those who live in it don’t have to be treated this way. If social tenants’ concerns were listened to and their housing made safe and decent, social housing could be the foundation for the strongest of British communities, as my experience proves.
It’s clear that change is needed to make social housing this strong again, but that won’t happen if we rely on the government alone. The commission I’m serving on, with the housing charity Shelter, is going to try to make sure change happens.
Not only will it be an exercise in listening to these tenants, but it will take seriously their thoughts and draw up recommendations that will then be shared with our political leaders.
We can’t know yet just what the commission will conclude but we know what we are trying to change.
We need to get rid of indifference and replace it with the requirement to listen. Landlords must become genuinely accountable to their tenants, whatever their race and background.
We need to challenge the stigma that surrounds social housing especially in our media and in our communities.
We need to look again at the basic deal that those who need social housing are offered. A social home should be a home and an opportunity to get on – as I did – yet somehow we have lost sight of that.
We owe this to all those who have suffered for the failures we see today. Together, I believe we can bring about change.
• Baroness Lawrence is a commissioner of Shelter’s Big Conversation into social housing