A Conversation with Mayor Margaret Greer

Some people are born into silence. Others are born into song.

From the moment Margaret Greer could speak, she wasn’t simply watching the world — she was shaping it. Not with noise or fanfare, but with presence. With grace. With a deep understanding that she was meant to be part of something larger than herself.

“I don’t know if I ever saw myself in public life,” she reflects, pausing with the kind of honesty that doesn’t try to impress. “But I always knew… I needed to do something.”

Her story begins not in council chambers, but in Hackney. In a Caribbean household built on faith, family, and resilience — where Sunday dinners were sacred and little Margaret was often the centre of attention.

“I was the entertainer,” she laughs. “Not to say ‘look at me,’ but to bring others joy. I’d dress up, sing, dance… I wanted people to feel good when they came through our doors.”

That joy was real. So was the world beyond it.

She remembers being no older than eight, playing in a park when a white girl called her “Kizzy” — again and again. At first, she thought the girl had made a mistake.

“I kept saying, ‘My name is Margaret.’ But she wouldn’t stop. Then she called my brother Kunta Kinte. I didn’t even understand what that meant at the time — but I knew it didn’t feel right.”
Later, her mother explained the reference. “Roots” had just aired. The characters were enslaved Africans. The message hit home hard.

“That was the first time I realised I was being looked at differently. Not just as a child — but as a Black child.”
It wouldn’t be the last. At nine, a teacher told her she’d never amount to anything — that she’d be nothing. She said her name with venom and paired it with a slur. Her only “offence”? Wanting to stand in a different lunch queue with her friends.

“That stuck with me,” she says. “But it didn’t break me. I wasn’t trying to prove her wrong — I wanted to prove to myself that I could be something.”
Even then, Margaret understood the price of reaction. One angry word and she knew her mother would be called to the school. So she stayed quiet — not out of fear, but out of strategy. She was already learning how to choose her battles.

But quiet was never her nature. She became a captain — of the netball team, the athletics squad, the Rounders league. She ran the 100m, 200m, 400m — even trained for the heptathlon. Not for medals. For leadership.

At 12, she attended her first protest — following the suspicious death of Colin Roach at Stoke Newington Police Station.

“We were marching and chanting, ‘Who killed Colin Roach?’ My cousins and I had to be there. And when some boys got into an argument, I jumped in and said, ‘This isn’t what we’re here for.’”
That moment changed her.

“That’s when I realised I had a voice. One that could bring calm. Bring people back to the reason we showed up in the first place.”
She considered policing once — did work experience at Hendon — but quickly realised that her service to community would look different.

“I wanted to build trust, not enforce authority. It wasn’t for me.”
Instead, she became a trade unionist. A social worker. A guide. A listener. A builder of bridges.

“Let Them See Themselves in Me”

Today, as the ceremonial Mayor of Enfield, Margaret Greer doesn’t walk into rooms to be seen. She walks in so others — especially young people — can see themselves.

“I just want them to enjoy their youth,” she says. “When I hear kids say they carry weapons to protect themselves — it breaks me. That tells me we’ve failed to keep them safe.”

Her message is clear: Your life matters. You don’t need to be what fear has made you. There is another path.

She recalls visiting Feltham Youth Offenders’ Institution. “So many boys — just waiting. On remand, or already sentenced. That’s not where our children should be.”
So she speaks truth to power — not from behind a podium, but face to face. In schools. In community centres. In homes. And in her own story.

“I was called ‘dunce’ in school because I couldn’t read fast. I was bullied. Only later did I realise I had dyslexia. But my mum and aunties — they wouldn’t let me fall behind. They got me extra lessons.”
She didn’t take the academic route others expect. She carved her own.

“I’ve got a diploma in social work. No PhD. But I found my strength — in projects, in people, in community.”

When asked what her theme song would be — the music that plays when she walks into a room — she doesn’t hesitate: “Be Positive. That’s what I try to bring — light, warmth, energy.”

Still, she admits, being a Black woman in leadership means often being misread before she’s even said hello. “People say, ‘Oh, you’re not like I imagined.’ And I think — what exactly did you imagine?”
But she doesn’t linger on that. She sees it as a moment of transformation — for them.

“I want people to realise: I’m not here to fit your idea. I’m here to be my authentic self.”
And authenticity, for Mayor Greer, means connection. It means celebrating milestones with 100-year-olds. It means giving speeches in churches and care homes, at summer fairs and in school halls. It means creating space for others to belong.

“This job’s surreal — the mayoral car, the parking, the titles. But I keep my feet on the ground. This role isn’t about power. It’s about giving back.”

Legacy, Community, and Representation

When asked how she wants to be remembered, her answer is simple: “I hope people say I was kind. That I saw them. That I made them feel seen.”
Being the first Black woman of Caribbean heritage to wear the mayoral chain in Enfield isn’t just ceremonial — it’s personal.

“Back in Montserrat, they say I’m a bit of a star,” she grins. “There very proud — so when one of us achieves, it matters to all of us.”
That’s why she invites young people into the council chambers.“This is your chamber. Your space. You belong here.”

Her vision of representation goes deeper than image. It’s about integrity. It’s about showing up with purpose and presence, so others can walk through the same doors — without feeling like imposters.

“You don’t need to have it all figured out. But do your research. Walk in prepared. Walk out proud.”

And while her term is just 12 months, the impact she intends to leave is built to last.“I’ll leave the role,” she says, “but not the responsibility. I’ll always be Margaret. And if the community calls me — I’ll still come.”

Final Word

Margaret Greer didn’t chase this title. It found her — the way purpose often finds those who lead with humility.

She’s not here to play politics. She’s here to honour legacy. To hold space. To reflect light. To remind Enfield — and all who cross her path — that kindness, authenticity, and courage still matter.

“Titles fade,” she says. “But authenticity? That stays.”

Upcoming Events with Mayor Greer

Keep an eye on the Mayor’s Office page and local listings for updates.

All are welcome. These are your spaces, too.

• ️Friday 19th September – Circle of Light: Interfaith Celebration
• ️Friday 3rd October – Enfield Black Heritage Hub: Windrush Tribute
  Dugdale Centre, 5–10pm
• ️Sunday 16th November – Thanksgiving Service
• (Trinity Methodist Church – TBC)