As festivals like this grow, the language that once described the work gets taken up by institutions and funding bodies far removed from the actual effort.

Words like diversity, participation, inclusion, community and solidarity get turned into criteria and tick boxes, things to be measured and reported rather than practised. They stop describing anything real. And the festival that inspired them gets cited as evidence of a thriving community by the very institutions that had nothing to do with building it. I want to be clear: this festival was never trying to hit a diversity target. It started because people were being attacked in the street.

The question we keep returning to is this: what kinds of artistic practice help create a shared world in which more people can appear, act, speak, disagree, remember and be recognised?

The conditions that a festival creates – being visible, on the street, together, part of something that says you belong here – can generate things that outlast the event itself. Networks form. Organisations get founded. People who were isolated, find each other.