To Be Black or To Be British? That is my Question.
For many, the adjectives ‘black’ and ‘British’ are a beautiful merge between home and the aspirational ‘motherland’, for others the terms are deemed contradictory. For me? The confusing grapple between a country I’ve never visited and the country that a small number of people believe I should not be in.
The questions that surround what makes an individual ‘British’ is arguably far more complex than the passport one holds. It encompasses a feeling, an attitude and an understanding of who has held the title before. As a third-generation Black British woman, hearing stories about the experiences of my maternal grandparents, there is an overwhelming feeling of pride and joy at their choice to move here. This is owed to their community of fellow British Ghanaians in West London in the mid-1960s.
Community. Through all the struggle and anger they faced, community is the beating heart of the Black British experience. It is the strength of these communities that contributed to the recovery of post-war Britain.
To be young is a different experience entirely, the memories of the overbearing racism of the 80s and 90s are now simply anecdotal in the form of passing comments by my parents’ recollections. Many of that generation are often surprised to hear that I cannot recall an experience of overt racism. This does not go to say it does not exist, but I understand that luck is heightened by my childhood immersed in the diversity and multiculturalism of London, where I grew up seeing those who looked just like me and doing what I hoped to do.
Whilst at times it feels like we’ve come so far, as I write this, Kemi Badanoch has just been elected as the first-ever black leader of a Westminster party, 515 years after the first recorded Black person in Britain. Whilst my politics may not necessarily align with hers, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride for how big a leap this is in regard to representation.
The rich history of Black Britons has not been highlighted anywhere near enough, with the English curriculum doing little to negate that. The large number of Black migrants in the 1500s for example, the great-grandmother of Queen Victoria, Queen Charlotte and the large import of slaves into Liverpool in the 1730s largely go unnoticed.
So, what is it exactly to be Black and British in 2024?
To be Black and British is to be forced to accept the lack of respect bestowed upon the Windrush generation, having been stripped of their legal rights and in some cases, facing deportation to a ‘home country’ they don’t remember. How do you find peace in a country where the government fails to respect your contribution to society?
To be Black and British is to grapple with two contrasting cultures and expectations of how to talk, walk and behave, and being judged and questioned regardless of how you choose to do so.
Yet, to be Black and British is to share that nuance of culture with others.
To be Black and British is to listen to the stories of our parents and grandparents whose anecdotes are filled with love, aspiration and hope for our futures, and I for one, am proud to be both.
Educational Resources that reflect my Black British experience:
Black and British: A Forgotten History - David Olusoga
A New Life by Sharlene Monique
The Artwork of James Barnor
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