Anne Milton is Minister of State at the Department for Education, and MP for Guildford.
It was whilst making steak and kidney pudding, about 25 years ago, that I uttered the words “I think I would quite like to be an MP”. Where on earth did that come from, for goodness’ sake? I knew no one in political life except a distant cousin, the nearest I had got to politics was an interest in what was in those days called ‘current affairs’ and t I knew nothing about party politics and almost nothing about Parliament.
So what was it that sparked my interest? Looking back, it was that I was irritated that there weren’t enough MPs who were like me and my friends; there weren’t enough women; and it felt as if there weren’t enough MPs who understood the lives of people like me. I wanted to change things, and show that people like me could get elected, and lead the way to make Parliament more representative.
I had trained as a nurse, worked in hospitals – as a district nurse, and in end-of-life care – and had been medical advisor to social housing providers for the previous ten years (all in Hackney and the City of London). Perhaps I knew more about politics than I realised. I had seen it played out on the front line of the NHS, and I had seen at close quarters the fierce battles of the London town halls duing the 1970s and 1080s. And I had passion and determination: it had to be possible for people like me to become an MP and change things.
The hand of fate passed over me later that same week during a shopping trip to Next. An article in their lifestyle magazine, written by a Conservative candidate (who went on to become an MP), began: “If you want to become an MP, the first question to ask yourself is: Do you want it badly enough to devote most of your life to it? If you don’t, far better to abandon the idea now.” I must have skimmed that bit or else I would never had gone any further!
But what that pieve did give me was a step-by-step guide. Devoting “most of my life to it” was not an option. I was incredibly busy: recently divorced, with two young children, about to be pregnant with my third, and I had a part time job. However, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I none the less gave it a go, and what a wonderful distraction it was from school runs, nappies and children (I had a fourth child as well at some point during all this).
The list of things that got done included:
- Join the Party (the Party agent in question nearly fell off his chair when I walked into his office asking to join – in 1992 there weren’t many of us under 40 joining up!)
- Go out canvassing in local elections (bruising if you have never col- called anyone, but in true Bart’s nurse tradition – hey – I could handle anything)
- Then the request (many people get one of these at some point) about whether I would stand for the council due to the death of a councillor (I was saved at the last minute, as my partner’s job meant we had to move house).
The rest came relatively easily, albeit with much learning on the job. I joined the Party in Surrey, and then challenged a local political heavyweight for the role of Deputy Chairman. I still remember reciting my ‘why I would make a good Deputy Chairman’ speech to myself in the car as I drove back from my job in Hackney to Surrey. Yikes – I had never spoken in public in my life, let alone to a Conservative Association who were lovely, but traditional in all their views. I put on a fair showing, many arms round the shoulder afterwards – ‘you know you did terribly well for someone new’.
Next up was finally to stand in the next local elections. I fought a sitting Liberal Dem councillor – and lost, but narrowed the margin significantly. I stood again the following year, and defeated another Lib Dem by 25 votes. I then applied for the candidates list. Phew – progress at last, but the gaps in my political knowledge now became horribly clear to me. I really knew nothing at all about politics and Parliament, and knew no-one on the inside to give me a hand.
Fortunately, my partner generally absorbs far more of the technical details than I ever could, so frantic coaching sessions followed. And hurray – following two days of candidate assessment I passed that hurdle. I spoke at Party Conference that year, and boarded the well-known rollercoaster of applying for seats, in this case for the 2001 general election.
I was always guided by my original motivation that people like me weren’t well represented in Parliamen,t and finding a seat that I had some connection with mattered to me. I was also 44 with four children, so if it was going to happen, it needed to happen soon. I applied for lots of seats, but only marginal and safe ones: it may sound presumptuous, but I was a woman in a rush. My hit rate wasn’t bad. I got interviewed for about half those I applied for, got to second round in about half of those, and got to three finals in so-called safe seats.
I felt I had done well: but in the days of no reliable internet it meant a lot of travelling, – plus searching libraries, reading the letters pages in the local papers, and driving round the streets looking for relevant facts for my speech. But it was fun and I learnt a lot. I will be forever grateful to those people who I still remember writing to me after the unsuccessful interviews encouraging me to carry on. I hope they remember who they are; their words meant so much to me. I didn’t get a seat in the 2001 general election, but worked with a dear friend setting up the Geneva Call Centre in Smith Square. A fantastic experience with some very fond memories of the people I worked with.
Selections for the 2005 general election started in due course and along with them came Guildford, which we had lost in 2001 to the Lib Dems. I had to give it a go: it was only 20 miles from home, and I had honed my skills fighting Lib Dems in the past. I was selected, then won the seat by the skin of my teeth with a majority of 538 (now 17,040)…and the rest is a matter of public record. I still remember a friend of mine leaving a voicemail message that night saying: “Bloody hell you did it (pause) – bloody hell what have you done?”
What I had done of course was to become an MP. I now had the incredible honour and privilege of representing the people of Guildford, and a chance to show that people like me could become MPs and change the face of Parliament. Busy – yes. Good weeks and bad weeks – yes. A flexible and adaptable working life, for sure – it can work well around children. But, most importantly, it’s the best job in the world. I have met some incredible people from all walks of life inside and outside Parliament and, slowly but surely, we are changing things for the better.
Anne Milton is Minister of State at the Department for Education, and MP for Guildford.
It was whilst making steak and kidney pudding, about 25 years ago, that I uttered the words “I think I would quite like to be an MP”. Where on earth did that come from, for goodness’ sake? I knew no one in political life except a distant cousin, the nearest I had got to politics was an interest in what was in those days called ‘current affairs’ and t I knew nothing about party politics and almost nothing about Parliament.
So what was it that sparked my interest? Looking back, it was that I was irritated that there weren’t enough MPs who were like me and my friends; there weren’t enough women; and it felt as if there weren’t enough MPs who understood the lives of people like me. I wanted to change things, and show that people like me could get elected, and lead the way to make Parliament more representative.
I had trained as a nurse, worked in hospitals – as a district nurse, and in end-of-life care – and had been medical advisor to social housing providers for the previous ten years (all in Hackney and the City of London). Perhaps I knew more about politics than I realised. I had seen it played out on the front line of the NHS, and I had seen at close quarters the fierce battles of the London town halls duing the 1970s and 1080s. And I had passion and determination: it had to be possible for people like me to become an MP and change things.
The hand of fate passed over me later that same week during a shopping trip to Next. An article in their lifestyle magazine, written by a Conservative candidate (who went on to become an MP), began: “If you want to become an MP, the first question to ask yourself is: Do you want it badly enough to devote most of your life to it? If you don’t, far better to abandon the idea now.” I must have skimmed that bit or else I would never had gone any further!
But what that pieve did give me was a step-by-step guide. Devoting “most of my life to it” was not an option. I was incredibly busy: recently divorced, with two young children, about to be pregnant with my third, and I had a part time job. However, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I none the less gave it a go, and what a wonderful distraction it was from school runs, nappies and children (I had a fourth child as well at some point during all this).
The list of things that got done included:
The rest came relatively easily, albeit with much learning on the job. I joined the Party in Surrey, and then challenged a local political heavyweight for the role of Deputy Chairman. I still remember reciting my ‘why I would make a good Deputy Chairman’ speech to myself in the car as I drove back from my job in Hackney to Surrey. Yikes – I had never spoken in public in my life, let alone to a Conservative Association who were lovely, but traditional in all their views. I put on a fair showing, many arms round the shoulder afterwards – ‘you know you did terribly well for someone new’.
Next up was finally to stand in the next local elections. I fought a sitting Liberal Dem councillor – and lost, but narrowed the margin significantly. I stood again the following year, and defeated another Lib Dem by 25 votes. I then applied for the candidates list. Phew – progress at last, but the gaps in my political knowledge now became horribly clear to me. I really knew nothing at all about politics and Parliament, and knew no-one on the inside to give me a hand.
Fortunately, my partner generally absorbs far more of the technical details than I ever could, so frantic coaching sessions followed. And hurray – following two days of candidate assessment I passed that hurdle. I spoke at Party Conference that year, and boarded the well-known rollercoaster of applying for seats, in this case for the 2001 general election.
I was always guided by my original motivation that people like me weren’t well represented in Parliamen,t and finding a seat that I had some connection with mattered to me. I was also 44 with four children, so if it was going to happen, it needed to happen soon. I applied for lots of seats, but only marginal and safe ones: it may sound presumptuous, but I was a woman in a rush. My hit rate wasn’t bad. I got interviewed for about half those I applied for, got to second round in about half of those, and got to three finals in so-called safe seats.
I felt I had done well: but in the days of no reliable internet it meant a lot of travelling, – plus searching libraries, reading the letters pages in the local papers, and driving round the streets looking for relevant facts for my speech. But it was fun and I learnt a lot. I will be forever grateful to those people who I still remember writing to me after the unsuccessful interviews encouraging me to carry on. I hope they remember who they are; their words meant so much to me. I didn’t get a seat in the 2001 general election, but worked with a dear friend setting up the Geneva Call Centre in Smith Square. A fantastic experience with some very fond memories of the people I worked with.
Selections for the 2005 general election started in due course and along with them came Guildford, which we had lost in 2001 to the Lib Dems. I had to give it a go: it was only 20 miles from home, and I had honed my skills fighting Lib Dems in the past. I was selected, then won the seat by the skin of my teeth with a majority of 538 (now 17,040)…and the rest is a matter of public record. I still remember a friend of mine leaving a voicemail message that night saying: “Bloody hell you did it (pause) – bloody hell what have you done?”
What I had done of course was to become an MP. I now had the incredible honour and privilege of representing the people of Guildford, and a chance to show that people like me could become MPs and change the face of Parliament. Busy – yes. Good weeks and bad weeks – yes. A flexible and adaptable working life, for sure – it can work well around children. But, most importantly, it’s the best job in the world. I have met some incredible people from all walks of life inside and outside Parliament and, slowly but surely, we are changing things for the better.