The jeers, sneers and insults that wait just around every corner

Two boys clash in a school corridor. One gets the better of the other. The other uses a weapon: '****ing Paki.'

That hurts but, at 12 Alex has learned not to let it show, at least, not when anyone's looking.

Mum Ann has heard it all before. Alex has come in for abuse since out in a pram. Growing up Anglo-Arab in Herefordshire it went with the territory.

She's heard how a section of the Hereford United home crowd pitch racial chants at Alex when he was a ball boy - on World Racism Day.

She's heard him say he doesn't want to be 'brown' and she doesn't understand his life.

But if Alex doesn't show hurt, he won't take it. The school corridor clash was just another stand - until the apology arrived.

Hussein doesn't expect apologies, nor does he get any. He's a taxi driver, running radio calls into the early hours - a tough enough living in Hereford without the taunts.

They see his name badge and start with 'Saddam'. The alternatives are less imaginative.

For two years he's taken the obscenities and the assaults. Then someone hurled a petrol bomb at his house, setting his taxi alight. How - and what - does Hussein tell his children?

In Neville Meredith the likes of Alex and Hussein have someone to look up to - literally. Neville fills the cramped second floor office in St Owen Street that comes with being the county's Race Equality Officer.

Raised 'mixed race white working class' in the West Country, Neville has been where Alex and Hussein have been, Neville knows.

Neville was not much older than Alex when he decided enough was enough, as three white schoolgirls abused a black bus conductor.

His eyes narrow at what he heard that day. Now he wants to hear more of the same, but reported through a scheme launched by The Herefordshire Partnership in the first real attempt to examine the extent of racism in the county.

Menace

Verbal harassment and intimidation, petty attacks intensifying over time, an air of menace smothering the spirit - no-one has assessed this crime, where 'minorities' make up a mere 2.4 per cent of population, because no one has had to.

The Macpherson report - arising out of the Stephen Lawrence inquiry - drew the line, saying only if authorities knew what was going on could they do something about it.

Comparing the number of incidents recorded to Herefordshire's ethnic minority makes the best start. Backed by a poster campaign, report forms are going to council offices, Info in Herefordshire outlets and CABs.

If the scheme serves a purpose it has to 'humanise' the victims, shed light on the psychological impact of what is often thoughtless, enable those on the receiving end to 'take control'.

Stuart Dove has heard how that control can spiral away .

Successful, professional and black, Stuart is a role model at his anti-racism workshop and he is a realist. When he says he's encountered 'very little' intolerance over his 20 years in Hereford - most spent as head of Barrs Court special school - it's tempered by an awareness of the difference another name, circumstances or a pronounced accent might make.

But some of the stories he heard shocked him.

With his background in education Stuart can treat allegations of a racist culture in county schools with considerable caution.

Yet at his groups are parents - and pupils - whose experiences have convinced them such a culture exists. And if the belief exists, says Stuart, a problem exists.

He speaks of 'good work' being done by schools to move racism - as a source of arguments and fights - beyond being a discipline issue.

There's a new emphasis on exploring equality and diversity through RE and citizenship .

Peter Baines tells a story of 'class' struggle, about a girl who through school had to steel herself against being found out; unable to acknowledge what she was, fearing what that might mean - pushes and punches in the playground, teasing, shunning...

When her class had a talk on gypsies she heard something to break her silence. She shared her secret with the speaker. She was a gipsy.

It's 20 years since a county councillor could publicly call for 'tinkers' to be 'blown up'. Another 10 since local radio caught a landlord refusing gypsies entry to his pub.

Peter would like to think things are improving. His role with Hereford Travellers Support Group suggests it's slow.

Romany gipsies are the county's oldest ethnic presence, having contributed to local culture from the 1500s. Irish travellers arrived a relatively recent century ago.

Gipsy

In theory the age-old prejudice that's part of travelling plight should ease with their entitlement - as distinct ethnic minorities - to the protection of the Race Relations Act.

Apply theory to those gipsy children still fearful of a tough time at school. Apply theory to 'the lads' who come to the lay-bys at night lobbing stones.

If time and circumstance have diluted the difference between gipsies, travellers and 'settled' society then the new moral imperative, says Peter, lies in authorities looking 'beyond caravans' to examine the 'real and present' issues they face: secure accommodation, education and medical care, acceptance and respect as minority cultures.

There is, he says, a lead to be taken from the police whose attitude has shifted significantly 'for the better'.

Something to hearten Phil Edwards, a sergeant with the Community Safety Unit (CSU), Phil is tasked with assessing the extent of hate crime - categorised as either racist or homophobic - in the county.

He has about four racism-related referrals a month. The 'great unknown' is how these will rise with the new system.

And it will be tough to convince victims like Esat who believes things are getting worse. He is a Turk who's lived in Hereford for 14 years having married a local woman.

Esat wore an England football shirt to work, a foreman told him to take it off - it 'wasn't his to wear'.

He's lost count of the times he's been told to '**** off back to your own country.'

Alex asserting his Anglo-Arab identity and telling any aggressors to 'get a map'; Hussein enduring the hate of the night so his children can define dignity; Stuart Dove showing youngsters that 'respect' is more than a street thing; the schoolgirl who says she's a gipsy; Sgt Edwards going out to see what's there and make others aware; the heartfelt apology for harsh words in the heat of the moment.

When Neville Meredith says he believes in Herefordshire and where it is headed this is what gives him reason to.

There will be tests to that faith over coming months. But converts too of that he's sure.

The footballer's story

"They're quick these African boys" - it was meant as a compliment and former Hereford United right-back Matt Clarke allows himself a wry smile. African? He grew up in West Bromwich to Jamaican parents and backed a 'Baggies' side that, in the '80s sported such black stars as Laurie Cunningham, Cyrille Regis and Brendon Batson - pioneers on the pitch who could play too. Matt would like to think a little of their example inspired those surging overlapping runs that made him such a hit with the Meadow End.He never had a problem with the Meadow, nor any other part of Edgar Street.

The same, he says, cannot be said of visiting black players - abuse he's heard an admittedly small section of the crowd aim at them hurts him too. They might not throw bananas any more, he says, but some crowds have yet to get beyond monkey chants. On the pitch, only twice in his time with United, has Matt heard words from another player that went beyond the expected 'wind up'.