Recently, I found myself in a warm, bustling room in Spring Lane, balancing a notebook on my knee while eight toddlers played nearby and their mums talked honestly about what it feels like to raise a family in Canterbury.
We ran the session with MyBirth, a local charity group, hosting a breakfast where mums from the area could bring their children and talk informally. For us, it mattered for two reasons.
First, we are still early in our work in Canterbury, and we need to build our understanding from real, everyday experience, not from assumptions. Second, this group connects with two voices we have heard little from so far: people living around Spring Lane, and parents of very young children.
Because of that, the conversation naturally focused on everyday family life in and around Canterbury. Parents spoke as people who use the city regularly, know it well, and clearly care about it. They talked about parks and green spaces they already enjoy, about how much family life is lived out across the city, and about the strong school and educational opportunities, which bring in young people from across Kent and contribute to its youthful, active feel. What came through clearly was that this is already a city with a great deal going for it. The question for us is how South Canterbury can add to that, not compete with it.
That shaped the whole discussion. Rather than treating the workshop as a search for problems, it became a way of understanding what makes places work well for families and where there are opportunities to build on what already exists. Parents spoke positively about spaces such as Toddlers Cove Park and Thanington Rec, and about the value of having places that are free, easy to use, and woven into everyday life. These are not spaces people visit once and forget. They are part of routines: somewhere easy to reach where you can spend the day without much planning.
One of the most interesting moments in the discussion was that, perhaps unexpectedly in a room full of very young children, one of the first themes to emerge was not toddlers but teenagers. Parents were already thinking ahead, and some spoke about older children, nieces and nephews, and the question of what the city offers as children grow up. There was a sense that teenagers generally do not have many spaces of their own. The discussion then turned to how places can feel safe, comfortable and welcoming for teenage girls in particular. That was a useful reminder that when families think about places, they are often thinking long term. A good neighbourhood has to work not just for one age or one life stage, but across childhood, adolescence and family life more broadly.
From there, the conversation moved naturally into the qualities that make public spaces truly work. Parents were not simply asking for more green space in the abstract. They were describing the difference between a space existing and a space feeling safe and welcoming. Visibility, lighting, clear sightlines, good upkeep, and a sense that a place is open and cared for all mattered. Those things may sound straightforward, but they are often what determine whether families actually choose to spend time somewhere.
That became especially clear when we talked about parks. Parents said that if you were designing a park from scratch, the details would matter enormously. Fencing around some play areas, particularly near water, would help them feel less anxious while watching several children at once. Clear sightlines would help children feel freer to run and play while parents and caregivers could sit on a bench, watch and relax. Lighting would extend confidence into darker parts of the day and year. Equipment mattered too, not just for toddlers but for a wider range of ages, with places to climb, move, play and exercise. What came through strongly was that families value parks that are planned from the beginning and thought through as part of the wider area, rather than simply added later as a basic play space.
The examples people gave were helpful. Thanington Rec was mentioned because it brings different things together in one place: space for younger children, room for casual sport, and community resources nearby. It works because different members of a family can all find something there, and because it feels part of daily life rather than a destination that has to be planned in advance. Kearsney Abbey came up in a slightly different way, as a place people enjoy because it combines open space with the kinds of features that make it easy to stay for longer: picnic areas, water play, places to explore, and a general sense that families are meant to spend time there. In both cases, the point was not to copy a particular model, but to understand what makes a space feel complete and enjoyable.
Another theme that emerged was the value of balance in a city like Canterbury. Parents spoke warmly about the city centre and the energy that comes from living in a historic place that draws visitors, students and families alike. At the same time, one member of the group spoke about their daughter, who is autistic, and how busy, tourist-filled streets can sometimes feel overwhelming. The point was not that the city centre should be anything other than what it is, but that there is real value in complementing that energy with calmer, well-lit, easy-to-navigate places nearby: somewhere to pause, reset and breathe.
Walkability was another important thread. A number of the mums talked about organising daily life on foot, often with children alongside them. That makes ordinary things matter more: a cafe, a park, a pharmacy, somewhere to sit, a post box, bins, a route that feels easy and safe. These are not grand ambitions, but they are often what make the difference between a place that works effortlessly and one that does not.
My main takeaway from the MyBirth workshop was not any single suggestion, but the insight it gave into everyday family life in Canterbury. This is already a city with a thriving community and well-used spaces that matter to people. The conversation helped us think more carefully about how South Canterbury can complement what already exists, building on the city's strengths rather than competing with them. It raised useful questions about what makes a place genuinely work for families: how to create spaces that are safe, welcoming and easy to use, how they can sit alongside what the city already offers, and how to provide somewhere people might choose to stay for long stretches of the day, whether to play, for picnics, errands or quieter moments together.