5am Ann Anthony gets out of bed. She’s got a heavy cold and it’s freezing and dark outside. But she’s used to the early starts. She heads to the bus-stop, and arrives at the university in good time to start her shift.
6.30am Ann’s morning shift involves cleaning the Phoenix building, a state-of-the-art building which houses the university’s Institute of Digital Innovation. Here students, postgraduate researchers and businesses develop digital media and technology, including animation, computer generated design and virtual reality – there’s even a green screen studio. It’s like a little slice of Silicon Valley in the heart of Middlesbrough.
But they haven’t developed any cleaning robots or self-hoovering carpets yet, so it’s down to the team of four cleaners, including Ann, to keep the place spick and span. Normally each of them takes one of the four floors, but this morning one is off sick, so Ann and the other ladies agree to divide her work between them.
“We look out for each other,” says Ann. They’ve been working together for nearly seven years and they get on well. At 61, Ann is the oldest cleaner on this team. At home she’s the mother of four and grandmother of 11, and at work she’s treated a bit like everyone’s mother.
She feels sorry for the younger women. As she did when she was younger, most of them have at least one and sometimes two other jobs, maybe working as dinner nannies, or taking other cleaning jobs. “I see it with my family too – it’s hard now, they struggle all the time, they’re only just making ends meet. Having a holiday is difficult, the electricity and the gas is so expensive.”
The university is a good employer, and the vice chancellor has gone on record as saying that the cleaners are essential to providing a safe and clean environment for the students. He is set to announce that the university will pay the living wage. But even so, below-inflation pay awards have meant that in the last five years pay has fallen by up to 15% for Ann and her colleagues.
7.30am It’s time for a 10-minute break. The four women head to their cleaning room for a quick cup of tea. Ann is also the UNISON rep and, as there is a strike planned for the following Thursday, she is making sure that everyone knows what’s happening.
“We’ve got to make a stand,” she says. “I don’t like to boss people, all you can do is put the points across. I talk to them as if I was just having a cup of tea.
7.40am There’s more hoovering, mopping and dusting to do, plus toilets to clean. The building is beginning to fill now and Ann has a friendly little chat with everyone – cleaners, students and lecturers alike. Many of them are on first-name terms with her.
“We get every nationality you can think of, a wide range of students, and there are the businesses here as well. I speak to them all. It doesn’t cost you anything to say good morning. I treat people as I would like to be treated.”
She’s been working for the university for 14 years, until six years ago in the 10-storey Middlesbrough Tower. In the Phoenix building she knows everyone by name, and one of the department directors even invited her to his leaving do.
8.15am Ann and the other cleaners are called to a health and safety meeting, which take place about every six months, this time to be briefed on a colour-coding cleaning system that ensures there’s no cross-contamination: red cloths for toilets, green for the kitchens, blue for the offices.
9.30am Ann takes off her overall and heads out of the building for the bus home. On the way, she picks up some groceries. Her husband had a knee replacement operation two months ago and is not yet fully mobile. He suffers from chronic arthritis, having worked outside all his life.
10.45am Ann arrives home with the shopping. She and her husband live at number 30. Her son is at number 3 in the same street, a daughter lives at number 28 and another at number 34. There are grandchildren and children popping in constantly – which is lovely, but means that life is not exactly restful. Her youngest grandson is three and, as Ann says, “He’s a bit of a handful.”
The couple have always supported their family as much as they can. Last year Ann had a difficult year: within a month her husband, his mother, Ann’s sister, her brother and her grand-daughter were all hospitalised for different reasons. She was helping to run her brother’s finances, as well as looking after her husband, supporting her daughter with childcare and running her own home single-handed. “It sounds silly, but coming into work gave me a bit of normality,” she admits.
1pm Lunch time. Time for a sandwich and a cup of tea.
3.10pm Ann’s teenage grandson, Bradley, pops in to say hello on his way home from school. Since the death of his father in a car accident eight years ago, he sees his grandfather as a second dad.
3.20pm Ann is back at the bus-stop, on her way to her second shift of the day. “I don’t mind the early mornings, but I am getting to the age where I don’t want to go out at teatime,” she laughs. “But I don’t really have a choice.”
4pm Her evening shift is in the Stephenson Building, which houses the School of Science and Engineering. She starts with the toilets and corridors.
6pm As the academic staff go home, Ann can get into their offices to clean. She’s not showing any signs of slowing down.
7pm The day’s work is done, and Ann heads quickly out to the darkened bus-stop. She’s looking forward to sitting down for a well-earned rest and cup of tea. No doubt there will be a few more visits from various children and grandchildren before the evening is over.
“I’ll be comatose by 10,” she laughs. “And then it starts all over again.”
Clare Bayley
This article first appeared in the Spring 2014 issue of U magazine
