I was going to change the world. I wish I’d chosen a different career instead

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JANE EYLES

JANE K EYLES, CIOH MSc/DIPLOMA IN HOUSING, PGCE (PCE)

JANE IS BASED IN BRIGHTON AND HAS MOSTLY WORKED IN THE SOUTH EAST, PRIMARILY IN LONDON. SHE HAS WORKED IN HOUSING SINCE 1990, HAS LIVED EXPERIENCE AS A SOCIAL HOUSING TENANT AND BEEN AN HOUSING ASSOCIATION BOARD MEMBER. SHE IS AN EXPERIENCED HOUSING CONSULTANT AND TRAINER SINCE 2023, BRINGING A WEALTH OF EXPERIENCE TO THIS ROLE, SPECIALISING IN RESIDENT-LED SCRUTINY SINCE ITS INCEPTION.

SHE HAS FACILITATED A NUMBER OF TRAINING SESSIONS FOR RESIDENTS AND HOUSING STAFF OVER 20 YEARS, MENTORING RESIDENT BOARD MEMBERS AND REPRESENTATIVES.

IN ADDITION TO CONSULTANCY, JANE HAS HELD A NUMBER OF POSITIONS FOR HOUSING ORGANISATIONS, AS WELL AS HEAD OF HOUSING AT BRIGHTON HOUSING TRUST, HEAD OF ENGAGEMENT AT GENESIS HA, LB CAMDEN AND HEXAGON HA.

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I became a 17 year-old lone parent in the 1980s. The biggest issue for us was housing, and it was tough. A spell in one of Brighton’s seediest bed and breakfast places taught me to duck every time the alcoholic above dropped his empties on my ceiling.

I was so appalled that there was such a shortage of housing that I did A-levels at night school and did an undergraduate degree in Housing. I left university with a decent degree and decided that I would go into the housing sector in an entry level job that paid less than my student grant or welfare benefits (there were no top-up benefits in those days). 

I was going to change the world.

What I always brought to the job was empathy amongst government disinterest in housing. I’d been let that uncleaned, dirty and shabby flat with no services.

Changing the world in a small district council posed challenges, but I worked hard. I changed jobs every two years, climbing the ladder and amassing incredible experience.

What I always brought to the job was empathy amongst government disinterest in housing. I’d been let that uncleaned, dirty and shabby flat with no services. All of those landlords I worked for did a fairly decent job; but I was always aware of ‘That Culture’.

Us and them

That Culture was in every landlord organisation that I have worked in; the one where there were always at least a handful of officers who outwardly criticised and blamed tenants, and a workforce that generally thought tenants were ‘different’.

In my first job as a trainee I read historical files where notes showed that people were given a transfer if they were ‘well presented’ and ‘kept a tidy home‘.  I was so relieved that it was all historical.

In my second job officers would call tenants ‘scum’ for a ‘laugh’. They would criticise how many children tenants had, whether they worked or not, their parenting skills, their ability to tidy up, their loneliness coming into the office, whether they opened the windows, whether they closed their windows, whether they over or under-reported repairs.

I never joined in. Each time I was through my probationary period, I challenged softly and occasionally with vigour.  I was occasionally labelled a ‘disruptor’. I became a Board member and was described by my peers as ‘insisting on customer focus’.

I did Anne Power’s MSc in Housing at the London School of Economics, and was one of her favourites. I pushed back on some of her criticisms of social housing – I’d worked in leafy Surrey and coastal Sussex. Not all social housing was in metropolitan tower blocks! She converted me to resident engagement, and the career progressed. 

But That Culture was in both of my MSc placements – a housing development team who barely spoke to housing management staff, and couldn’t even imagine what it was like to want to see your children while cooking tea, and a London Borough who had a moratoria on non emergency repairs and rolled their eyes every time a tenant came in to report one.

‘Good at empathy’

And so, it continued. There were times when it was a little better, and times when it wasn’t. I turned freelance, helping social landlords get better at listening and empathising with residents, and coaching residents on how to be heard. 

I always left them better than they were when I got there, and I’m proud. In two organisations I set up strong rehousing offers with the local domestic abuse organisations. 

In all positions I went out and about with those I was managing, and modelled good behaviour such as empathy, support and understanding with tenants, because we are all people and customer service demands it. I had no rescue complex and felt that those who did were part of That Culture.

So, after 33 years I’ve worked in depth with over 100 tenants groups, all of whom gave something to the community; all of which attempted to improve the running of landlord organisations. I’ve seen social landlords who tick boxes, who mean well, some who listen well but don’t do anything, and a tiny number that get it right. 

Staff are running around like headless chickens, working too many hours staving off the crisis with no time for listening or empathy. 

Meaningful regulation (before it was cut) resulted in more attention to listening to residents – but both rent caps resulted in cuts in this area. I also noticed that every CEO supported residents, until they challenged their own personal views and projects.

When Grenfell happened, I was not surprised. I was, of course, appalled and upset, and it grieved me. I even facilitated a couple of sessions with government ministers and survivors without pay. This was my big chance to change the world.

The White Paper echoed what tenants round the country had said in some ways, and I hope that new regulation works. The obsession with league tables concerns me, however, as changing “That Culture” is not about a set of data; it’s about trust.

One recent housing organisation I worked with has been facing challenges in terms of finance and regulation, and its answer has been to slash resident engagement budgets and staff. It immediately investigated (but met opposition to) reducing the number of resident board members. 

It regularly passed years long unresolved complaints to me to answer as apparently I was ‘good at empathy’. Staff there are running around like headless chickens, working too many hours staving off the crisis with no time for listening or empathy. 

At the last meeting I attended, the Head of Capital works said: “I know we aren’t allowed by the Housing Ombudsman to say this anymore, but damp is nearly always the tenants’ fault; they even sometimes tape the vents up.”

I reflected on my 33 years, and wished I’d chosen a different career instead.