Wrightson’s not wrong.

The headlines about Bradford are often brutal. In recent months, news stories have declared it Britain’s gloomiest city (because it has the least sunshine) and the second most miserable place to live.

Type the words “Why is Bradford so….?” into a search engine and see what happens. The odds are you will probably get the following autofill options – “bad”, “dangerous” and “poor”.

And it’s not just the opinions of people outside the city. Dr Paul Sullivan of Bradford University has carried out research into the stigma. His hometown is Ireland’s Cork, a place where its comedians make fun of its high opinion of itself. Bradford, he discovered, was rather different.

“What surprised me was… the almost lack of civic pride.

“Even reading the local newspaper, some of the headlines can be very upbeat, and beneath it are just loads of comments that, ‘This is a disaster, it’ll just never work, Bradford is doomed’.”

But Dr Sullivan is a fan.

“I love the city. I fell in love with Bradford straight away. I love the city centre, the beautiful countryside. And it was really quite a surprise to me to see that level of negativity.”

Much of it, he believes, is rooted in an external and almost “ideological hostility” to the city’s ethnic diversity.

“I think there’s a reluctance to admit that Bradford can succeed. A desire for Bradford to fail.”

However, in the face of this antagonism, something is, he feels, developing.

In his recent interviews with residents, “there was a real sense of pride, in their sense of belonging”.

It was a topic Ahad and Wrightson also raised. Diversity has become utterly unremarkable.

“I’m Bangladeshi and English. My wife’s Pakistani and Indian, and you sort of don’t have to explain here,” says Ahad.

“Like 100%,” Wrightson adds. “I’m mixed heritage, my mum’s Indian, my dad’s English. And growing up, it wasn’t a big deal.”

City of Culture has for many become a moment to look beyond the problems and champion what’s growing out of its diversity.