1975, I’m 9 years old, running through the playground at Gateway School on the Lisson Grove. It’s not my school, we’re there alone on some fun day for kids. I'm running as fast as I can, gripping the handle of the wooden toy pram in which my sister is sitting, laughing. I feel my legs taken from under me. I come down hard, still gripping onto the pram. All my knuckles bar the thumbs and little fingers tear down to the bone as they smash and scrape along the brutal concrete. My knees are next. The pain is indescribable. I can't believe he tripped me up. We're not on the estate, where we live, but he still calls me Paki and laughs. I'm bawling my eyes out, and eventually someone comes and tries to sort it out. Can't be done. The iodine makes me scream. I can't believe the pain. They call my mum. She comes over. She's utterly horrified and can't believe what's happened to me. We go home. I can barely walk. I can't use my hands. The agony is relentless. It will be months before the skin grows back under the slow-forming scars. I still have them at 58. She leaves us at home, then walks over to the neighbour's place, alone, and starts to shout at the mum. "Come and look at what your son did to mine! Come and look! Do you think it is fair?" Eventually, they come. I'm sheepish. I don't want to face this monstrous fucker who has made our lives hell (along with the others) in the year and a half we've been there. The one who knocks on our door and brazenly says to my mum "You're blocking the drains. You all smell of curry". That's it, that's the purpose of his visit. He gets away with it, but not this time. My mum is livid and when his mum sees the state of me, she tells him to say sorry. Then, and this is insane when I think about it, somehow, the mums make us play together once my hands can hold a ball. He's not racist when we play the one time. He's on parole. Then a few weeks later, back to "Paki" and "Curry" and we are bullied by the whole estate for years. I'm beaten up. My sister is beaten up. My brother is beaten up. Our door is smashed. The mobs are outside screaming, breaking windows. A copper comes over during a particularly terrifying episode when we all think we're going to die and says "You're going to have to grin and bear it." Don't you dare tell me about your fucking legitimate concerns. I took nothing from you. I tried to make peace with you. I forgave my abusers. No more. Today I know the generosity of the vast majority of my country, and I know I'm not alone. You're not backtracking out of this one, not this time. You don't get to call me Paki anymore. We are not going to grin and bear it. This time, the copper is coming over and is putting you behind bars and you are going down. Maybe when you come out, you'll be reformed. Maybe you'll be bitter. That's fine. I don't care either way. I'll be living my best life while you think about what you've done. And I'll be doing it with the vast majority of my country, who don't like fash any more than I do. I refuse to be terrorised. I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to lose hope. One day, before it's too late, I hope you realise what it means to make someone feel like they're not welcome in their own home, that they should burn and die. And I hope you feel ashamed. And I hope you feel remorse. And if you do, let's have a cup of tea and let bygones be bygones and get our country back on its feet. Deal?

ICYMI: A new digital theatre "intervention" will put Shakespeare’s text in conversation with the last 14 years of UK government in the run up to the general election (@CITheatre) 👇 thestage.co.uk/news/producti…

SHAKES AGAINST THE MACHINE - a new digital protest theatre piece dir. by @robmyles w/ @CITheatre pitting Shakespeare’s text in direct conversation with the last 14 years of UK govt. Follow #ShakesAgainst for a new video every day until Jul 3rd. Image by Ellen Schaffert

I had to get three trains to the hospital to get my chemo. Which I had to pay for. Six months of more misery than a Morrissey stag do. And I worked every night at the chateau (don't ask). I hope she has a full and speedy recovery, but "lesser mortals" is despicable horseshit.

LONDON: JUNE 24-28, Shakespeare intensive workshop for professional actors, focused on deepening your understanding of text-work, to deliver transformative performances with confidence. £250. eventbrite.com/e/owning-shak…

New @_almosttangible material?! YES PLEASE!

We are thrilled to introduce: the AT Classics Collection! This will be an expanding series; elevated readings of classic literary works, finessed with elements of AT's immersive audio magic, yet pared down to celebrate the simplicity and splendour of the written word.

Forces of nature, every one. X

My first acting job was in one of @TheHopeTheatre’s new writing nights. Years later, I took an overnight bus, through a blizzard, to audition for a full four-week run with a terrific cast. I was SO proud to be there. It was as vital to my acting education as drama school. Gutted.

Robert Burns is available to download wherever audiobooks are sold, and we even have a Kindle edition to read along to as you listen! For more information or links, please visit our website! buff.ly/3HqVsOr

Happy #BurnsNight! Wishing you all a joyful celebration – if you can't be around a table with friends, pop on your headphones and the #ATFamily will bring you along for an immersive ride through these timeless poems from Scotland's national bard. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 💙

IN MEMORIAM | Brigit Forsyth | 1940-2023 A week ago, on Dec 1st, we lost one of our earliest and dearest AT Family members, Brigit Forsyth. The most beautiful and delightful of women it has ever been our collective fortune to know and to work with. (1/6)

So terribly sad to hear of the death of John Byrne, supremely talented playwright and artist, one of Scotland’s most important cultural voices of modern times, and the loveliest of men. I was thrilled in 2017 when he agreed to do the illustration for my First Minister Xmas card. My condolences to his loved ones.

Very sad news about the death of John Byrne, one of Scotland's greatest "lad o' pairts" at 83. I've never forgotten watching "The Slab Boys", "Tutti Frutti" and "Your Cheatin' Heart". And he was a wonderful artist as well. That golden generation from the 60s and 70s is gradually leaving us. Thoughts with his family! pressandjournal.co.uk/fp/pas…

HAMLET NOIR airs this Sunday 29 October at 19.30 GMT on @BBCRadio3. Are you ready? buff.ly/3PH4sma

FANTASTIC #Author visit to school today: #Scottish fantasy writer @CaroLoganBooks of @cranachanbooks gave our S1s a peek into her process, the business behind books, and advice for pupils’ own writing, all pitched perfectly to their age & stage. Perfect. 10/10. No notes!

I CANNOT believe how total the shift is from West of Scotland tenements to Italian hill-town just by adding blue shutters and some cypress trees…this design is genuinely genius. X

One of our favourite spots on Southbank is back: the Shakespeare mural 👏 And we have a giveaway to celebrate! Win a prop skull worth £50 from our shop, which is what artist Jimmy C used to model the skull in the mural 🎨 To enter: 👉Follow us 👉 Retweet 👉 Comment 💀 below!