Clare’s life in Wythenshawe spans more than four decades. Four different council houses. Three children.

Her whole life has been spent in this council estate on the southern edge of Manchester.

“I grew up here; went to school here; worked here for a while. My kids were born and baptised here.”

Wythenshawe in the 1970s Wythenshawe in the 1970s

Clare’s house is a three-bedroom terrace that’s typical for her part of Wythenshawe - layered by red bricks and a black tiled roof. A small chimney pokes out halfway along the roof, with a little black satellite perched on top. Spliced into the red bricks are white PVC windows. There’s some ivy on the front of the house.

The front garden is big enough for her to park her red Citroen and keep two black bins. Neatly trimmed, lush green bushes line the side of her house.

The 42-year-old moved there after her husband suddenly died of a brain haemorrhage in 2009.

“I met my Derek in 1997 - just three months after I had my first kid. He grew up in Salford but eventually moved onto the estate.

“We met at the Wythenshawe Civic Centre. He asked me for a drink.

“He was a black, Jamaican man; just lovely. In the 90s, you didn’t get a lot of mixed couples round here. It was very white back then, but we were on the same wavelength,” she says.

Clare's late husband Derek died suddenly in 2009 Clare's late husband Derek died suddenly in 2009

“Derek doted on the kids. He loved them to pieces. He was just 42 when he died. It was really sudden.

“I had to move. I just couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the home he once lived in. It was a horrible time for me and the kids.”

After deciding she wanted to stay in Wythenshawe, Clare did a council house swap.

Clare’s street is full of red-brick semis just like hers - only the colours of the front doors break the symmetry.

Wythenshawe retains plenty of greenery. Many houses look out onto large green open spaces. It’s in the spirit of the garden city movement that built Wythenshawe in the countryside nearly 100 years ago. But the vision that built it has dissipated over the years.

“I can’t recall a time in my life when people didn’t look down on us because of where we live. Was there ever such a time?” says Clare.

Even though she has come across old photos and stories of Wythenshawe, it’s almost incomprehensible to Clare that her estate could have ever been seen as a desirable place to live in by people from outside the area.

“If you’re from here, you love Wythenshawe heart and soul, but people from outside see us as scum. Even the cab drivers don’t like dropping people off here.

“Even as a kid, growing up around here was looked down upon,” says Clare.

The media plays a part in creating a negative image of council house tenants, Joanne believes.

“There is always good and bad wherever you live. There are a lot of good people around here too – people just don’t get to see it.”

Months before the Duchess of Cambridge visited a primary school in Wythenshawe in 2013, the playground of the school was vandalised and set alight. It received widespread media coverage.

“There was nothing positive being shown of our area when the duchess visited,” claims Joanne. “The papers made out as if she was coming to visit hell.

“The media gives people the impression that none of us work and that we are all scroungers. Most people in Wythenshawe work. Even some single parents do.

“Women round here are tough and hard working. People don’t hear about that.”

1970: Welshpool Close, Wythenshawe 1970: Welshpool Close, Wythenshawe

Clare shares Joanne’s view.

“The stigma of council housing has been there for years and years. I’ve even had colleagues in the past make digs about where I come from; or sometimes it’s a subtle look that you pick up.”

While Clare is undoubtedly proud of her home, she admits that at times, she feels the pervasive attitude that regards living on an estate like hers as negative; something that’s a bit shameful and unaspirational.

But despite this, she seems resilient.

“At the end of the day - I work. What other people think doesn’t bother me.”