Few stories encapsulate Manchester’s spirit of resilience and hard work quite like that of Carmine Grimshaw.
From his humble beginnings as a street trader in the Northern Quarter to becoming the Lord Mayor of Manchester, his journey is seriously impressive.
This is the kind of person who should be in politics, and is there for all the right reasons, to help others.
Raised in Ancoats, once a rough and ready working class neighbourhood far removed from the trendy outpost it has become, Carmine experienced firsthand the hardships and changes that shaped the city.
His early career as a sewing machine mechanic was cut short when his employer closed in the 1980s, but rather than faltering, he pivoted, securing a street trading license and becoming a familiar figure among Manchester’s traders.
His advocacy for street traders led to the formation of the Manchester Street Traders Association in 1990, ensuring their voices were heard during the city’s rapid transformation.
His dedication to fair representation extended beyond traders, influencing licensing regulations and public safety initiatives.
In 2012, he stepped into the world of local politics, representing the people of Miles Platting and Newton Heath with the same tenacity that had defined his career.
Now, as Lord Mayor, Carmine carries the legacy of his journey forward, proving that leadership is born not in privilege but in the experiences of those who understand the community’s needs best.

What got you started in your field of work?
My early years were tough, growing up in a working-class Ancoats that was nothing like what it is today. Back then, it was a poor area, and even now, our local young people can’t afford to live in the neighbourhoods they grew up in because of skyrocketing prices.
Coming from a humble background to where I am now, it’s been quite a journey. I’ve been fortunate, but I’ve also worked incredibly hard to get here. Nothing was exactly planned. I fell into opportunities with the help and support of others.
I had my twin brother standing beside me at the civic service, which was really special.
Someone even commented that he looked as excited for me as I was!
That meant a lot. And, funnily enough, I’m a twin, I have twin sons, and now one of my sons has twins—three generations of twins. It’s quite something!
What first sparked your interest in local politics?
It really started with my drive to support people who were being pushed out or overlooked.
That’s why I founded the Manchester Street Traders Association in the 1990s: to ensure that traders didn’t lose their livelihoods. At that time, street trading was undergoing major changes, and I wanted to make sure we had a voice. Later, I chaired the A-5 Off-Licence Forum, working to ensure license holders understood their responsibilities under new legislation.
It was important to educate business owners and bring them into the conversation rather than shutting them out. I’ve always believed that when you include people and guide them rather than dictate to them, they engage better, learn more, and help create safer communities.
One of the people I looked up to most was a man called Mick Loftman. Mick was a local councillor and a good friend. I had known him since I was a boy. He encouraged me to get involved, seeing how much I’d already worked within the community, whether supporting leisure initiatives, leading the off-licence forum, or advocating for street traders. Mick needed someone to stand in the local elections, and he told me, “You’d be great at it.” I trusted his judgment, put my name forward, won the election. Here I am, 13 years later. Sadly, Mick has passed away now, and I miss him terribly. But I hope he’d be proud of where I’ve ended up.
Who were your heroes growing up?
I wouldn’t say I had just one hero, I had loads. My parents, my uncles and aunts, and the people who put their arms around us when we were going wrong, they were my guiding lights.
I’ve always believed in passing on the help, love, and support that we’ve been given in life.
It might sound a bit melancholy, but for me, real heroism is about guidance. The people in my life who stopped me, put a hand on my shoulder, and said, “Carm, if you do that, you’re doing it wrong, you need to go down this road instead,” they saved me from trouble more times than I can count.
As a councillor, I feel we play a similar role. A kind of extra parental figure for the young people in our communities. I think guidance is something that’s missing a bit these days.
Beyond my personal mentors, I’ve always admired the people working in the background to bring peace to the world—the unsung heroes, the ones who don’t seek credit but dedicate their lives to making things better.
That’s what truly inspires me. My friend I mentioned earlier, Mick Loftman, was one of them: a trade unionist, always fighting for others.
My father was another, a strong character, and my mother, though she looked like she could be blown over by the wind, had the heart of a lion.
No matter what, she was there to support us.
What is your proudest achievement so far?
Without a doubt, my biggest achievement in life is having my children. Being a father, getting married, raising a family, those are my most meaningful personal accomplishments.
From a political perspective, I’d say becoming chair of licensing was a standout moment for me. Licensing is something I’m passionate about, and being able to shape policy in a way that supports communities and businesses is incredibly rewarding.
But ultimately, being on the council allows me to help people in a way I wouldn’t otherwise be able to. It gives me the avenues to offer real support, and that’s what drives me.
I have three children and three grandchildren, family is everything to me. And in politics, I think of my constituents like an extended family too.
Being a councillor takes over your life in ways people don’t always realise.
It’s supposed to be a part-time post, but if you do it properly, it never really is. You get calls on Saturday mornings, Sunday afternoons, all hours of the day, and you answer them because that’s what being a public servant is all about.
You don’t always get the results you hope for, but sometimes even getting 50% of what a person needs can change their life.
That’s why I do what I do.

What does your typical day involve?
My days are full-on. Every evening, I go through my schedule for the following day, making sure I’m prepared for everything I need to attend or sort out.
Take today, for example: I’ve got three meetings lined up, and I’ve already been out handling commitments earlier this morning. I’m usually up between six and half-past, out on the road by eight, and arriving at the Town Hall by half-past eight or nine. Once I get into the office, I review my speeches again. I always go over them the night before, but I refresh them in the morning because I want to get things right.
I’m not just representing myself, I’m representing the city and the people of Manchester. That means making sure I speak with precision and care.
A passing comment, said in good humour, could be misinterpreted. I want to ensure every word reflects the dignity of the role and the community I serve.
It’s a responsibility that brings me so much joy. You can probably see it on my face!
What is the best advice you have been given or can give?
I’ve been given a lot of advice over the years, but one phrase that has always stuck with me is something my auntie used to say: “Sweets eaten are soon forgotten.”
It’s an old proverb, meaning that once the pleasure of something fades, the giver can often be overlooked. It reminds me of the fleeting nature of gratitude, but also the importance of doing things for others without expecting anything in return.
When I first became a councillor, I wasn’t used to the criticism that can come with the job. I put my heart into helping people, working tirelessly to solve problems, but sometimes, no matter how much you give, people don’t see the full picture. My auntie would remind me, “You’ve done your best. Don’t get upset if people forget what you did for them.”
That advice has kept me grounded ever since.
If things hadn’t worked out, what else could you have seen yourself doing?
I’d probably have ended up in something creative, maybe crafts or arts in some way. I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands, and after selling the business with my brother, I thought a lot about what was next. Who knows? Maybe I would have opened another shop, something tied to craftsmanship.
I actually took a jewellery course once, just to explore something different. I could see myself having pursued that further, perhaps even turning it into a business. But the truth is, once you get tied up in politics, even local politics, it takes over your life. Everything else becomes secondary because you’re constantly working to support people.
Some days, it feels like you’re banging your head against a wall, trying to make progress. Other days, you see the results of your efforts and feel on top of the world. That’s just the nature of public service.
I’ve always been someone who finds more joy in giving than receiving. If someone hands me a gift, I’m terrible at accepting it—but if I can help someone, even in the smallest way, that’s what truly makes me happy.
For me, that’s just being a decent human being. That’s what we should all strive for.
Tell us one thing about yourself people might be surprised to hear…
I’ve been writing poetry for many years, but when I was growing up in Ancoats, it wasn’t something you’d talk about. Back then, it was a rough and ready place, and poetry wasn’t exactly seen as something to shout about.
As I got older and met different people, especially through the Street Traders Association and the Northern Quarter Steering Committee, I became more open about it. I ended up writing a few articles for Northern Quarter Magazine, and during those conversations, Liam Curtin, an artist, and Wendy Jones encouraged me to pursue poetry properly. That kind of encouragement was something I’d never had before.
I ended up performing at The Green Room, which used to host open mic nights near where St. Mary’s Hospital stood, across from the Ritz, where I was born, funnily enough! I joined a poetry group called Write Out Loud, where they’d send out themes to write on, and then you’d perform at open mic events. The first time I performed, I took some friends with me, and they were more nervous than I was! But once I got up there and read my piece, it went really well, and it gave me a confidence I hadn’t felt before.
Even now, I don’t really shout about it. Most councillors didn’t know I wrote poetry until I recited one at an event the other week! I suppose it’s something I kept private for a long time, but as I’ve gone through life, I’ve become more gregarious. Now, I see every day as a bonus.
It’s just something I picked up. I like war poetry. Not because I’m gloomy, but because I admire the way it’s put together. I write the way I speak, so I appreciate poetry that feels natural and honest.
During lockdown, I got involved in food distribution, making sure surplus stock from Greene King went to those who needed it instead of being wasted. A friend connected me with GMB Union, and soon we were delivering food across Greater Manchester—some even went to Fans Supporting Food Banks over in Liverpool.
Through all this, I connected with a young poet, Anthony J. Parker, over Twitter. We started messaging back and forth, exchanging verses. Before we knew it, we’d written a poetry book called Locked in Love during lockdown. We didn’t sell many copies, but whatever we made, we donated to charity.
A few months ago, I discovered that Neil McKinney, who leads Manchester’s libraries, had put a copy of our book in the collection—which was a really lovely surprise.
I don’t know if all this is just me doing random things or if it’s what people do. But I do my own thing, and it brings me joy—that’s what matters.
Red or Blue?
Well, as Lord Mayor, I want both Manchester teams to do well—but if I’m honest, I’m a City fan! That said, I support anything that puts Manchester on the map, so I always want to see both teams succeed.
I remember the days when players used to be out and about in town, and you could stop and have a chat with them. United and City players were much more accessible then, but times have changed. You can’t get near them now!
If you could change one thing about Manchester, what would it be?
Truthfully, Manchester has always been fantastic to me. I’ve seen the city evolve over the years—especially during my time on the Northern Quarter Steering Committee, when we were working on regeneration.
I remember the old markets in the Northern Quarter, back when Cooper Street and the surrounding area were bustling with traders. That was where everyone got their fruit and vegetables, just like Covent Garden in London. Then, in the mid-70s, the market moved to the New Smithfield site, and the area started to change.
If I had to choose one thing to improve, though, it would be housing—specifically, ensuring it remains affordable for local people. I see the areas I grew up in and know that young people today are being priced out of the housing market. If anything, I’d like to keep our communities together.
To be fair, the council is making progress, we’re building more affordable homes, both to rent and buy. But I’d like to see even more of that.
That said, I wouldn’t change anything about Manchester’s people. We’ve got the best people in the world. I always joke with friends who move to London and say, “What are you doing in the second city?” Obviously, I mean it in jest—but Manchester will always be number one in my eyes.
We’re an open, welcoming city, and that’s something that’s been passed down through generations. In Manchester, people help each other—because that’s just who we are.
And finally, what do you love most about Manchester?
The people and the communities are what make Manchester special. No matter where you go, that sense of connection is always there. Take the Northern Quarter, for example—it hasn’t always been the thriving hub it is today, but it has come back to life.
We made that happen through sheer determination—yes, a bit of investment helped, but it was the passion of local people and businesses that truly pushed those projects forward. Twenty-five years ago, it was an ex-market area, and nobody wanted to go there.
You know The Millstone, don’t you? I remember going in when it was practically empty: we even used the back room for Street Traders Association meetings. Back then, there were only two or three people in there on an afternoon. Now? It’s absolutely buzzing at any time of the day.
Jed, the landlord, has really made something special there.
If someone unfamiliar with Manchester walked into The Millstone, they’d get the perfect snapshot of the city.
You’ve got locals, visitors, stag parties—all mixing together effortlessly. It works so well, and the atmosphere is incredible.
You can find out more about the new Lord Mayor of Manchester by clicking here