Culture and Inclusion – How New Policies Can Unintentionally Shut People Out

Our Poverty Proofing Culture team work to support culture venues be more inclusive and accessible to everyone, allowing equal opportunities for children and young people to thrive. This blog piece, by guest writer Susan, highlights one mum’s experience of feeling excluded from a culture venue. When any new policies are bought in, often it’s those on low income who feel the effects the most – even if the new rules are not specifically about costs. We’re working to ensure every space feels accessible and inclusive to anyone visiting, helping to shift the culture of culture settings. 

The arts, culture and heritage sector have historically struggled to engage people from “non-traditional” audiences; people on low incomes and from working class communities feeling these experiences are “not for them”. Some brilliant work has been done in recent years to identify and remove barriers and widen participation and accessibility of venues and opportunities. But is there a risk that, when the ‘next big thing’ comes along, all this progress will be lost?

Step forward Martyn’s Law. A new law that requires public venues and events to improve their security and implement proportionate security measures.

This vitally important new piece of legislation should keep people safer at major events and venues. It received royal assent in the spring, but with a minimum two-year implementation period, and statutory guidance yet to be published.

Nonetheless some organisations are keen to get ahead of the game. But hasty implementation could easily lead to them alienating the very audiences venues are trying to include.

Engagement with people less inclined to access cultural venues consistently shows it is not just cost that prevents participation, but the “culture” of culture itself – the fear of not knowing the rules or how to behave, of facing stigma and disapproval of staff. This was precisely my recent experience at a venue in the North East.

In implementing Martyn’s Law, the venue in question has deemed a particular category of bag an inherent security risk and subject them to an outright ban. Naturally this is the exact type of bag I use on a day-to-day basis, for completely practical reasons, to carry all the bits and pieces I invariably need when out and about with my gaggle of small children.

But here is the problem – I had absolutely no idea that this policy had been brought in, despite weekly visits to the building over the last year, receiving countless emails and following their social media. Moreover, the zealous implementation of the new policy wasn’t at a sold-out, high-profile event, but a Sunday afternoon kids showcase, the audience mostly made up of frazzled parents who had spent the last hour and a half waiting around, in the heat, trying to keep small children contained, over lunchtime.

My experience was horrible. I was completely blindsided when security told me I wasn’t allowed in because of my bag, initially totally confused before rapidly spiralling into blind panic. I didn’t know where the cloakroom was. I didn’t even know there was one. The show was about to start. Did I have time to get back before they closed the doors? I didn’t have pockets. Where would I put my things? The tickets were on my phone. Where would I put my phone? I was going to miss the show. I felt like a bad person. A bad parent.

For the venue I was a problem to be managed. Ultimately another security person appeared and took my bag. I was allowed to watch the show but couldn’t concentrate, adrenaline racing, fight or flight in overdrive, panicking about whether I would get my things back, my mind playing through every possible scenario of what might happen if I didn’t. I felt publicly humiliated, shamed, embarrassed and stigmatised – and came away feeling that ultimately this space is not for “people like me”, with my chaotic young family and the bag I use to carry all their things in.

Martyn’s Law implementation will be important in the coming months. And there will be other legislation and policy in the future that will require a response. So how do venues not lose sight of best practice around inclusion while implementing new policies?

All policies should be formed through a pro-inclusion lens, considering all audiences, not just traditional ones, and how proposed measures might impact them: do proposed solutions reflect unconscious bias? Proportionality needs to be at the heart of this.

Communication should be front and centre. A policy buried in the annals of a website and oblique email reference in tiny font is too easy to miss. It should be clear, bold, direct information – on the homepage, highlighted in emails, profiled on social media.

And staff need to be trained not just to enforce policy but to treat people as humans, offering as much help, reassurance and kindness as they can so when mistakes are made, solutions can be found without shame or embarrassment.

Getting these things right matters, and I sincerely hope the rollout of Martyn’s Law – or any other future policy doesn’t result in the arts and culture sector going backwards in terms of inclusive practice because something else is now flavour of the month.