I originally posted this to my Facebook page, and I want to revive this blog after so many years. Sorry about the lack of images, I'll get back to that one day.
I’ve been debating if I should write this for a while now, and I’ve decided that enough is enough. This is going to be a rant about my personal experiences, in which I hope the BLM movement achieves something. I don’t expect many people to finish reading this, and I’m not going to get butthurt if you don’t comment.
As you all know, I’m biracial. I mean, it’s pretty obvious, right? I won’t lie and say it has or hasn’t been easy, and by being on social media even more now than ever, it’s made me think about a lot. There’s a lot of things that I ignored in terms of racism, passing them off as passing comments, but I’d be lying if I said none of them affected me.
I was raised in a Catholic home, and went to Catholic schools. I was forever taught to ‘love thy neighbour’ and to ‘turn the other cheek’, but that’s not going to cut it anymore. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know I was different until I went to school. I didn’t know or understand, heck I still don’t understand, why you would hate somebody for the colour of their skin. It’s not something we can change, and it’s not something we choose. Physical attributes of any kind should not be the reason someone is bullied. I’ve been raised to treat others how I want to be treated in return. I try to be a good person, but sometimes it isn’t easy.
I remember one time, near the end of primary school, where I was selected to go to a ‘special class’. I followed the teaching assistant and joined a group of foreign pupils. We were told that as english was not our native language, we would be here to improve it. I was so annoyed, I was born in this country and my school waited until I was around 10 years old to decide if I could speak english or not! Needless to say, I left that school with top grades, so much so that I boasted about it for a while. I vividly remember getting the same grades as the person I regarded as the smartest in my year, and even scoring a higher grade in english due to my handwriting. It wasn’t until university, that I considered this might have been the result of racism. I was one of very few black students, and they decided I needed extra help. I never went back to that ‘special class’ where we played games.
I have had teachers underestimate me so much it’s made me become bitter. Again, in primary school, we were discussing alcoholics and a classmate explained that her uncle was an alcoholic. The teacher calls her brave for speaking up and that it’s hard when someone we love has an addiction. I raise my hand and explain that my older sister married an alcoholic. The teacher looked at me and asked, “Do you even know what an alcoholic is?” Of course I knew! This still makes me angry, and anyone that knows me now, or has worked with me would know how much this pisses me off.
I’m not saying I’m perfect, or if these truly are acts of racism but those are defining features where I felt I wasn’t treated the same as the rest of my class. Memories are fallible, I guess. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t recall there being any black students in my classes in primary school. I know there were three mixed kids in my year (of my complexion anyway), but I do not recall anyone darker than us. We might have had an Indian or Pakistani student, but honestly, this was so long ago and Crawley wasn’t the same as it is now.
I vaguely remember being bullied by some girls in the year above me in primary school. They used to call me ugly all the time, and I don’t think I ever told an adult about it. I was so relieved when I got to year six and didn’t have to see them again. I was also terrified of secondary school (at least the first year), because I thought I would see them again. They would tease me about my hair, so I would ask my mum to change my style. They called me dirty, they called me fat (I was far from it), and I’m sure there was more. This went on for about a year.
Primary school wasn’t all bad though, I learned a lot and some of my teachers were lovely. I wouldn’t want to go back, though.
Secondary school was a bit better. There were more multicultural students and I felt like I belonged a bit more. I had some amazing friends, even if most of us have grown apart now. I guess we did leave 8-10 years ago. But, the comments were different. I was constantly being told what I should be doing as a black person, how I should wear my hair. This is the age where most people experiment and find their interests, learn about their ever evolving style.
“You should have an afro!” Easier said than done. Yes it looks like an afro, but if you’ve seen my hair natural over the past few years, you’ll see that I don’t have the stereotypical halo around my head. My hair just doesn’t do that. I straightened it a lot and ruined my hair. But, I felt insecure with my natural hair, it’s just so… BIG!
Shrubby! My hair had a name. I didn’t like it but my friends did, so I didn’t complain. Looking back, I should have put a stop to it, but I didn’t. My self esteem took a dive and there’s so many things I would tell myself if I could. I think my dad saw the situation for what it was, but didn’t say anything.
This was also the age where I noticed that security would always follow me around a shop. They still do, and I think I now look suspicious because I’m constantly looking out for them watching me. Why do they do this? I’ve never stolen from a shop before (ok, there was an incident with the self scanner one time, the weight thing accepted it and I didn’t notice that I didn’t pay for something until I got home and checked the receipt), and I don’t plan to start now. I double check the self scanners now, I’m too paranoid it will happen again and I’ll get caught. And what happens if I get caught? Will I be another statistic? Will they record me as British, or black? We all know I can’t pass for being white. Will I get a heavier fine/sentence just because of my colour?
Have you ever gone to a party or an event and found that you’re the odd one out? I have, almost every time. I’ve been to an *almost* all white wedding. That was surreal. I’ve also been to several black parties, courtesy of my father. Again, I felt so out of place! Unless I go to an event that happens to be multicultural, I feel like a fish out of water. I’ve never felt like I belong in society. I’m constantly trying to fit in, but I don't.
I’ve always thought that I would belong in Ghana. That if England won’t accept me, then Ghana will. But, that’s the thing, they think I’m white. Our dad had to convince museums that we are, in fact, Ghanaian, because they charge more for entry if you do not originate from that country. Not only that, but because we are a lot paler in comparison, they call us white. I thought it was hilarious at the time, but upon reflection, where do I belong? It doesn’t help that I can’t speak the language. I think I’m having an existential crisis due to current events, and I know I’m not the only one affected.
As an adult, there are so many passing comments that need to be addressed. Have you ever looked at someone and thought, “They’re pretty/beautiful/handsome,” but the thought didn’t end there? The thought continues “...for a black girl/woman/boy/guy/man”? I’m not calling you out for being racist, yet. If you have these thoughts but do not say them aloud AND make the effort to not treat/view this person any differently, thank you for not letting these thoughts dictate your actions. But if you say this out loud, reevaluate your life. Please. Seriously, we don’t need this in our lives. We have enough issues with colourism, we do not need your racist comments on top of this.
“I’ve never been with a black person before.” Do you want a gold star? Brownie points? Why would you say this to anyone?! You’re not breaking barriers, we do not think highly of you, it just reminds us how ingrained racism is in our country.
“You don’t like watermelon??” That’s a stereotype, not reality.
“Black people can’t swim.” It’s an ingrained fear from the slave trade. Just like every nationality, some people just do not learn how to swim. Ironically, my dad can’t swim but still helped teach me.
“Oh, you can dance? I thought all black people could sing?” I wish I could sing! But no, though you may think this is a throwaway comment, it falls into stereotyping a person and placing value on perceptions instead of on the individual. If we can’t live up to your expectionation and you mention something like this, how do you think it affects our self-worth?
“There’s no such thing as white privilege. I don’t get favourable [insert situation/topic here].” White privilege is real, but it may not be what you think. If you are treated as a human being, that is privilege. There are many of us out there who don’t get to experience this because we’re so used to not being treated fairly. I could write or link a whole post here, but honestly, just Google it and you’ll find loads of people have covered this already.
The BlackLivesMatter movement is important for us. I know it doesn’t address a lot of personal experiences, but if we can have the black community accepted as equals, then there’s hope of accepting the mixed communities.
In the words of my sister, “We really do be living through a pandemic and a revolution.” We really are in unprecedented times, but history has taught us that those who were oppressed, win during revolutions. At least, I hope this remains true. History was written by the victors, afterall.
Here are some things I’ve seen on twitter, that may show the differences in how people are talked about. This first one is about twins, you may remember when they were born. Just listen to how the news anchor describes them both.
https://twitter.com/EttyTweets/status/1268844020559753216
https://twitter.com/courtneylj_/status/1267650732519538688
https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=280961433033143
