In Conversation: Frankie Baldry, Plymouth Young City Laureate 2024-2025

When Frankie Baldry applied for the Plymouth Young City Laureate position, it wasn’t part of a grand plan. In fact, it was an act of procrastination. "I was putting off doing my A-Level English coursework when I saw the advert," she laughs. "I thought, I can sit here and write some fun poetry instead of doing actual work, so I submitted my form maybe five minutes before the deadline. Then I went, oh well, that was fun, better get back to coursework!"

Months later, she received an email that changed everything. "I got the position, and that’s when it hit me—this is really cool. From that point on, I threw myself into it."

Frankie’s role as Plymouth Young City Laureate has been about more than just writing poetry. It’s about uplifting young voices and representing the city at various events. "It’s given me the chance to see Plymouth in a completely new way," she says. "I grew up here, and I’ve been guilty of taking it for granted. But when you leave for uni open days and people say, ‘Where’s that?’, ‘It’s just a quick stop on the way to Cornwall’, or ‘Oh yeah, my so-and-so has a second home in Cornwall,’ you realise how proud you are of where you’re from."

Finding Art Beneath the Surface

One of the most eye-opening aspects of her laureateship has been discovering Plymouth’s thriving cultural scene. "Plymouth has so much going on in terms of art, culture, poetry, and music," she says. "You just have to look for it. It’s there, under the surface, and once you start digging, you realize how much creativity is bubbling away. All of a sudden I was introduced to so many people and so many ideas and so many events going on that I almost felt a little bit silly for not acknowledging or engaging with it at all beforehand. I kind of felt like I'd been missing out my whole life, which was a lovely surprise"

That newfound perspective has shaped her own creative journey. "I wasn’t someone who wrote loads of poetry before this," she admits. "Before I got the role, I’d probably written three poems I’d be happy to share - many that I wouldn’t want anyone to see. Now, I see poetry everywhere—in the everyday, in passing conversations, in how we navigate the world."

A Platform for Change

Beyond the personal impact, the role has also provided Frankie with opportunities to create meaningful projects. One of the standout moments of her laureateship has been co-founding The Megaphone, a zine that serves as a creative response to everyday misogyny.

"It started as a small project my friends and I were going to print on the school printer budget," she recalls. "Then we realised—this is too good for that! We secured a grant from Plymouth Octopus, got it printed professionally, and had a live event launch at the Barbican Theatre B-Bar. We’re now working on our second edition, themed around ‘home.’ Since many of us are leaving home soon, we wanted to capture what that means from different perspectives—including friends from Hungary, Finland, and across the UK."

That ability to collaborate and create spaces for young voices has been the most rewarding aspect of the role. "It’s all about sharing—sharing stories, sharing experiences, sharing creativity."

Poetry in the Everyday

Frankie’s journey has also changed how she views the city. "I just see Plymouth as a wholly more beautiful place now," she says. "It’s got its flaws but there’s poetry everywhere if you pay attention."

One moment stands out. "I was walking home one day when an old man stopped me. He was sitting on a bench looking out over the city, and he said, ‘Plymouth’s the only place where you can see sound.’ I thought—that’s a poem. That line stayed with me, and I turned it into a whole piece I wrote for the city at Christmas. People really connected with it, but no one believes me that this guy just randomly said it!”

Asked if she had a favourite poem she said: “I really liked my poem called Eddystone, A Love Letter to Plymouth. That was my submission piece. It's based on the whole idea of it is the fact that when people do cliche lighthouse imagery, it's always about going towards a lighthouse - a metaphor for love or a relationship. But you’re meant to avoid lighthouses. Lighthouses are showing you where the jagged rocks are. You should be going away from the lighthouses. So I kind of worked that into a metaphor about how we can kind of push each other away, but the fact that the Plymouth Lighthouse, Smeaton's Tower on The Hoe that's there to be drawn towards, that's not protecting you from anything that doesn't need to push you away. And that was built by taking apart and rebuilding the old lighthouse that was to warm people away from the jagged rocks. And I just loved that poem. I still love that poem. I think I'll love that poem forever.”

The Power of Poetry

Frankie has always loved writing, but poetry wasn’t something she consciously pursued before this role. “When I people call me a poet I still feel overwhelmed. I was the kid who’d rather stay inside writing than go out to play," she says. "I’ve had incredible teachers along the way who really nurtured that love. That’s so important—having that one moment where you go, ‘Yeah, this is for me.’"

As for themes she keeps returning to? "Stars. Always stars," she says. "I did an astronomy GCSE when I was 15—one of the nerdiest, most fun things I’ve done. The thing that gets me is when you look at a star, you’re seeing it as it was, not as it is. Light takes time to travel, so you’re looking into the past. And the elements in our bodies? Formed in supernovas. We are literally made of stardust. I can’t not write about that."

Writing in Transit

When it comes to her creative process, Frankie has one golden rule: writing on trains. "I love it," she says. "Headphones in, no signal—so I have the perfect excuse not to do anything more productive. I just write."

She emphasises that poetry doesn’t have to be grand or complicated. "It’s not just for people who can write in perfect iambic pentameter. You can write about your walk home from the park, and it matters. That’s something I want to share, especially with young people. Poetry is life, and life is poetry. And no, I don’t mean that in a grand, pretentious way!"

What’s next?

As her time as Plymouth Young City Laureate comes to an end and a place at University beckons, Frankie is excited to see who will step into the role next. "If you’re even slightly thinking about applying—just do it!" she says. “Know that your voice matters. I applied to avoid coursework, and it turned into something amazing. You don’t need to have loads of experience or a notebook full of poems. You just need a love for words and a curiosity about the world."

For those hesitant, she has some words of encouragement. "The best part about this role is the unexpected. You never know what opportunities will come your way, what people you’ll meet, or what strange, wonderful things you’ll write. If you love Plymouth, if you love writing—even just a little—this role could be for you. Take the leap. You won’t regret it."

If you’d like to apply to be the next Plymouth Young City Laureate, then you can find out more here and start your own incredible journey with words.