Rubbish behaviour

I don't think there is anything much more annoying, despite being relatively harmless, than littering.

It achieves absolutely nothing, it creates extra work for people and it just looks horrible. There is a litter problem on my street, thanks to a little cut-through at the end of the cul-de-sac to a big field and a less-than-inviting housing estate.

Leeds City Council, in its infinite wisdom, has failed to put any kind of litter bin within about 500 metres of the field, which is not very far from a row of shops including several take-aways. Not that it would probably make a great deal of difference, but it would at least show some willingness on the council's part to try to reduce littering.

The trouble is, it's just not cool to put your litter in a bin. A number of school kids cutting through to the David young Community Academy make this perfectly clear. Without wishing to tar them all with the same brush, it's not uncommon to see them chucking bits of food wrappers and drinks cartons onto the street. It's enormously frustrating - particularly as a lot of the rubbish seems to end up in various front gardens, including mine.

I'm not saying all the pupils drop rubbish, and I'm not saying it's only pupils who do it. But I have seen it happen and, nine times out of ten, it's kids in the easily-recognisable black uniform and green tie.

So yesterday morning, as I watched three girls aged no older than 14 dropping bits of paper along the street, I must admit I slightly lost my rag. Not in a screaming-and-shouting way, but in the way that prompted me to do something I probably wouldn't have if I had been in a better mood.

I asked them to pick it up.

Very politely, as I leaned out of the window, I pointed out they had dropped some litter and asked them to pick it up again. The three girls looked up at me, but didn't react. So I repeated myself - "I've just seen you dropping that, could you pick it up please?" - which only prompted one of them to ask, "Which one of us?" Feeling the balance of power shift against me, I said I didn't care which one, as long as it got picked up. They stared back at me for a few seconds before walking off, leaving the paper on the floor.

After watching them leave the street, I reflected that perhaps I had created more of a problem than I had solved. Drawing attention to oneself is probably never a good idea - I envisaged returning home that evening to an egg-covered house.

Luckily, nine hours later, my house was much as I had left it. But I had resolved to do something a little more constructive. I wrote to the headteahcer - or principal, or manager, or Fuhrer, or whatever they're calling the people in charge of these academies - to highlight the problem. I'm not expecting her to be able to do much, as identifying three girls out of a school of several hundred would be a bit of a challenge. But I'd like an acknowledgement of the fact that, when in school uniform, the behaviour of the pupils will be taken by the public as a representation of that school's standards.

At the same time, I've also written to the ward councillors to ask what they can suggest to combat the littering problem in the street. I don't know if any of it will make a difference, but at least next time I'm picking crisp packets out of my borders I can say I tried.