I AM TIRED…

I AM TIRED….

I am tired of being tired. I am tired in a way that pervades all that I am. At a time when hundreds of thousands have died from Covid, a pandemic that is killing black people at a disproportionate rate, we are forced to watch as the pandemic of racism takes BLACK lives all around the world.

I was recently told by a white English man that England is not America and we should be ‘grateful for how far the country has come since the 50s’. I was not born in the 1950s, but as a child at school in the early 90s (40 years after the proclaimed long way that the country has come) I was called a baboon and a monkey by my peers. Was asked if I really lived in the jungle and faced physical violence simply because of the colour of my skin. Time has passed but we have not come a long way. Just this month, we saw a plane fly a ‘white lives matter’ banner over a football stadium mid-match.

SOURCE: Google

So I will not listen to someone who has not experienced racism, tell me how great and fair England is and so much better than America. Racism cannot be quantified or excused by comparing countries. Racism is not a multiple choice question. I do not want to hear your excuses for why you think your racism is ok or justified, I am too tired of that.

SOURCE: Google

SOURCE: Racism Scale

I am tired of having to bare witness to the countless lives lost as a direct result of racism. On the 10th June 2020 the guardian asked Want to make the UK less racist? And provided their suggestions of twenty positive ways to bring about lasting change. 

I am tired of seeing so many black people killed because their lives are not given the value and protection that they deserve. 

SOURCE: Twitter

Each one hurts just as much as the last. It’s endless. The wound deep and forever open. Our blood spilled and running is never enough for them, but for me one drop spilled is too much! The necessity of having to film each brutality just to prove this barbarity is happening because our words are not sufficient, leaves these tragic images etched on my mind.

I AM TIRED.…

For every day adds to the pain. Earlier this week I was asked how I manage to get up each day and keep fighting. This person wanted to know how I do it. I am just as tired as the next person. It is exhausting to have to fight a daily battle whether you choose to or not. It gets to me, and I don’t know how to stop that, or if I would, should I could. I am just as affected by all the news headlines and the negativity that has permeated much of 2020. If the news isn’t reporting another disproportionate death of another black or ethnic minority person due to Covid, then the headlines are encumbered with the heavy load of deaths related to police violence and brutality. The UK is not spared from these prejudices or headlines. I awoke to news that two Met officers were arrested over selfies they took and circulated with the corpses of two black female murder victims. I am not sure why these officers are being afforded the protection of anonymity when any other adult suspected criminal in the UK is not afforded the same.

SOURCE: Guardian Newspaper

I AM WEARY….

This all gets to me. I won’t ever pretend that it doesn’t. I am as human as anyone else.

I am weary from a life time of having to deal with this. To me, we have not come a long way. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Ignoring it will not make it go away. It is not beneficial to “sit back and watch, to see if the government makes changes”. We “watched” as institutional racism in the Metropolitan police force resulted in it taking 19 years for a conviction in the case of the murder of Stephen Lawrence. We have “watched” as the Windrush scandal occurred and still carries on. We “watched” as the Grenfell fire burned for 60 hours, claiming countless lives, and watch still as the government makes paltry excuses and gives empty promises. We have “watched” as the government transparently reports some of the equality or more accurately inequality statistics. We see that watching in history has done nothing for us. No one suggested watching World War 2 to see what happens, instead allies were sought to help end it. You are racist to suggest that Black people should “sit back and watch” as we are killed and disproportionately targeted in all areas of life. Maligned, racially abused, and KILLED because of the colour of our skin.

I am tired. I am weary. BUT I AM NOT GIVING UP. I ask that you do not either, let’s make a difference together. I do not have the solution for such a multifaceted problem. I believe that education is a necessary tool in helping to eradicate racism, and because of that I launched a petition. I hope that you will support me in clicking the link below and not only signing the petition but sharing it too!

Make black history a compulsory part of the national curriculum for all ages

CLICK THE LINK ABOVE AND SIGN THE PETITION

PSA – In the words of Jay-Z…..Allow me to reintroduce myself!

I honestly didn’t want to come into a new day dealing with the arguments of yesterday, but it seems that many have missed the motivation behind my parliament petition. So here we go. 

At no point have I said that I am relying on my ‘oppressor’ to teach me what it is to be black, or to love myself and my blackness in its entirety. 

I post I saw after launching my Parliament petition

So in the words of Jay Z, allow me to reintroduce myself…..

I am a first generation Black British citizen, one of five children, fourth born to skilled migrant and wind rush parents.

I was born, raised and educated in Hertfordshire on a council estate where I was a member of the ONLY Black family in the area and in the minority. A bicycle ride through town as a child was often met with by at least one member of the public giving me the finger across the throat signal. 

The only times in my childhood and youth that I got to experience not being in the minority was when I was solely with my immediate family, greater family, spending summers in Dominica/ Grenada, or once a year at Notting Hill Carnival before it lost its essence and became what it is today. 

I grew up the darkest member of my family, something that outsiders loved to remind me of on a daily basis. Questioning if all my siblings were 100% related to me and suggesting that perhaps I had a different mum or dad and I just wasn’t yet aware.

The last official photo of me without a racism scar on my face

I went to a primary school where on the first day I was called a liar and told that I couldn’t read, write my name or tie my own shoelaces etc. Resulting in my refusal to go back. 

I was one Black child in a classroom with 27 other students, all white. My first few years of education left me with a stab wound to the face for for the colour of my skin and the knowledge that my peers saw me as no better then an animal, akin to a baboon. My roots and confidence in myself are so strong that no wind can sway or pull me down. 

The strength, pride and love that my parents instilled in me did not change the ignorance of the majority that I was surrounded by. Even the strongest armour returns from battle with chinks. I want black history to be taught in schools to educate those who may not get the education at home, but to also ensure that we are nipping racism at the bud. Those 27 children have grown up to be adults in society, some may very well still be holding onto the prejudices that saw me bullied by them as a child. Becoming the very adults that govern this country. 

It is very easy to think solely of yourselves, but this selfish nature will not see any changes come. If my petition sees just ONE child not have to go through what I did in the education system then I can be happy with the changes I have inspired. 

I moved to London aged 18 and was met with a new host of prejudice. I became aware of the tensions and aggravations amongst the black population and diaspora happening elsewhere in the UK. I was suddenly teased for being ‘too white’, not something I ever imagined I would encounter in life. I got labelled a bounty and a coconut, and had questions thrown at me like ‘How was afternoon tea with the Queen?’ This was a whole new barrier that I was forced to break without knowing what were the best tools to do so. I have been to Jamaica and other islands in the Caribbean that are not my own. I have seen the slave plantations with my own eyes and walked through them with my own feet. I have travelled to Ghana and bore witness to the slave castles and passed through the door of no return. A journey that many of my ancestors must also have taken. I ask questions whenever I do not know the answer to something and try to read up and learn whenever and wherever possible. This is for me. There is no pleasing some people and ultimately I have long realised that nothing I do will ever be enough.

Despite all of the above, one of the biggest lessons instilled in me as child, to treat everyone as equal, still stands. The experiences of my childhood and youth didn’t magically disappear once I became an adult. Remember those children grow up. They become the very adults who are your bosses, managers, supervisors and colleagues in the workplace. Mid 20s I was told by a white middle-classed manager, who disliked that I treated him no different to the gardener and the cleaning staff etc that life is not fair. He couldn’t understand why everyone from receptionists to SVPs would stop and talk to me at my desk or why I wouldn’t give him deference for his position. My response to him? “I am Black, Young (they originally dismissed me for the position because of my youth) and Female I don’t need anyone in this life to tell me that its not fair, least of all you.”

We always hear how strong black women are. And I agree, there is a strength within us that nothing can break. I look to Doreen Lawrence and Sybrina Fulton et al for not breaking when the world took their sons. But that is a further strength born by a pain that I don’t want to experience before I take action. Let me speak NOW!

So to the black people who came at me full force, this is for you. And to the people that told me I am not black enough, there are no levels to this. Your words do not make you a winner or give you a prize. 

I have a voice and I have a gift, so nothing you say to me will stop me from using it. I won’t argue with any of you on this matter again. I said what I said and i’ll say it again! I don’t want to send a child of mine into the same education system that I experienced and it saddens me that some of you do. 

Now I am going to go enjoy this beautiful morning, as I promised my mother she wasn’t going to wake up to any more surprises from me.