Who will join me in the revolution?

A career in housing is not the most appealing choice for graduates, especially in local government. It doesn't have the razzmatazz of a job in the City or offer the fulfilment of a post in the charity sector. As I embark on my career, "why did you choose housing?" has been a recurring question.

Speaking to my colleagues, it seems many did not intend to have a long career in this sector, but fell into it by chance and ended up staying. Perhaps this is part of the problem.

I have always had an interest in housing issues, having lived on a council estate for most of my life. Housing affects so many facets of life – your immediate social space can influence the way you live, family and neighbourly relations, your health, community spirit and morale, and so on.

I wanted to get inside the council, to see things from the other side; to find out why overcrowding and badly maintained homes seemed to be acceptable and why it seemed so hard to improve the standard of living. Maybe I thought I could do better – change the world and all that. It's easy to think that when you're on the outside.

Now I've been working in housing for three months, as part of a two-year training programme in local government, and I've been exposed to a variety of experiences and projects.

The range of functions and responsibilities is vast – from day-to day management of council properties and rent collection to client consultation and equality issues. The national graduate development programme gives me a theoretical grounding in the form of a diploma, as well as external training events and an internal mentor for guidance.

Jaded ambition
Although I've enjoyed my experience and learned a great deal about housing and council operations, something has been gnawing away at me. That initial ambition to "change the world" has somewhat been dampened as I have become accustomed to the system and seemingly impenetrable wall of constraints and bureaucracy.

It's a system in which we are frequently unable to meet people's housing needs but, in order to get on with the job, that somehow becomes acceptable. And where those who shout the loudest often get their way. It's nothing that any one person has said or done, nor one person's fault.

Don't get me wrong – I do believe there is scope for change. And change does happen.

New approaches and initiatives are considered and adopted. Arm's-length management organisations, urban renewal schemes, sub-regional housing groups, and schemes such as choice-based lettings are all examples of change. And there are instances of individuals and departments seeking to bring about such change.

My initial ambition to ‘change the world’ has been dampened by the seemingly impenetrable wall of bureaucracy

For instance, a grand regeneration scheme has been planned for my local area in east London. Even though it has been in the planning stage for four years, eventually it should provide an opportunity to organise housing, schools, vital services and social spaces in a way that fosters and develops a real sense of community. And I welcomed the recent news on designs for social housing that included "indoor parks" and common spaces. Although they are not exactly to my taste, such ideas are along the right lines, by providing spaces in which people can get to know each other.

Yet I often feel as if I'm pulled in two directions. I see the frustrations of people from my estate who have worked tirelessly to develop regeneration plans over the past four years, only to be told by council officers that an essential decision has yet to be made, delaying the process again. But as someone on the inside, I know the situation is not necessarily down to ulterior motives but may be the result of slow, bureaucratic decision-making. If this is the case, communication is essential.

Maybe, though, my feeling of unease is a positive thing. It can be beneficial to remain slightly on the outside to retain a sense of the bigger picture.

The bigger picture
As a trainee I have sometimes felt that I've done various projects without really questioning their significance to the overall aims of the council.

This is not just in practical terms, for example aiming for X number of roads to be re-paved in a period of Y months. I mean, what is the essential purpose of housing? Who is the main focus? The residents? The community? It may seem obvious, but such ideals can go astray in council settings.

In everyday work, we become focused on, even bogged down by, legal restrictions, resistance to change from outside and within the council, tradition, budgets, saving money, bureaucracy, office politics, statistics, number crunching. In the face of such constraints there can be a tendency to concentrate on what can't be done, rather than what can be done. A certain level of dynamism, inspiration, oomph, "get up and go", whatever you want to call it, is suppressed. That buzz, that spark, is missing.

"Buzz"? "Spark"? Well, these aren't exactly words you would currently associate with local government. An increase in young people working in the sector may just bring that about.

So, perhaps it comes back to my initial point. Is a job in housing too safe, too secure? It isn't thought of as a popular career choice and there isn't much competition for jobs in the sector. Perhaps the sector doesn't market itself as well as others. There is a lot of potential, waiting to be exploited.