Kat: Examining my Mixed Identity during Black Lives Matter.
A few weeks ago, I called out to Instagram in search of mixed race people — particularly those with Black heritage — to share how the current wave of BLM has affected them. In the first guest post in this series, Kat reflects on her identity as a mixed person, how people have always assumed she has a white parent, and witnessing the statue of Edward Colston being taken down at the Bristol BLM march.
Who knew 2020 would be the year of change and history? Although we are living through a devastating global pandemic, we are also witnessing the biggest, most widespread and powerful civil rights movement in the world.
Black people have been oppressed, experienced institutional racism and have been killed unjustly for centuries. Previously, I feel that it has been easy for people, especially white people, not to pay attention due to privilege and the lack of Black history taught in the curriculum. However, with the rise of social media, all of these racist incidents amongst other injustices are being filmed and posted online. In the words of Will Smith:
“Racism is not getting worse. It’s getting filmed.”
I attended my first Black Lives Matter march in Bristol in 2016, sparked by the sad deaths of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling in the USA. As a mixed race person, I felt sadness, anger, disappointment... and the need to do something. A thousand of us marched through the city, starting at the Malcolm X Centre in St. Paul’s, through the city centre, then ending up at College Green.
At the time it felt like such a powerful moment and I really felt hopeful for the future. However, fast forward to 2020, the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd — among too many others — has caused much more global distress. As videos of the deaths surfaced online, protesters all over the world demanded justice for Black lives.
Watching George Floyd’s death was one of the most painful and harrowing videos I have ever watched. It caused grief and confusion amongst friends and family. I have been reaching out to my Black and brown friends, as they have to me, so that we can support each other. I also felt guilty that, even though I had been doing things like protesting and signing petitions, I wasn’t doing enough. It was a huge reminder that I have benefited from privilege myself.
The conversations we are having now are important and often uncomfortable, but they need to take place.
I’m mixed race; my skin has a medium-brown tone to it in summer, and becomes lighter towards the winter. My Mum is of British/Indian heritage and my Dad is Namibian. I have always been proud of my skin and being a mixed race/Black person. However, in my experience, I have found that people have often assumed I have a white parent. Growing up, people would make remarks like:
“There is something white about your face...”
“Where is the white part of you from?”
“Your Mum’s English, right?”
Although I am not exactly ‘white passing,’ I’ve had the privilege of being able to choose as and when I have to think about race. Sadly, it’s become clear to me that this is due to colourism, and not experiencing racism to the degree of darker-skinned mixed or Black people. They don’t have the choice or option to switch off.
On 14th June 2020, I attended the Black Lives Matter march in Bristol with some friends. I felt nervous about it—because of the chance of a spike in Covid-19 cases—but I made sure I had my mask and hand sanitiser at the ready. This time, there were roughly 10,000 people in attendance.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced. There were inspiring talks on College Green, and you could hear echos of applause in every direction. I saw the statue of Edward Colston, a 17th Century slave trader, pulled down. We made history that day and I felt proud of my city and proud to be Black.
This movement has made me realise many things. Although I am the first to pull people up on racial slurs, correct and challenge people on what they say, that is not enough. I’m making sure I read as much as possible, as I am also still learning. I must continue signing petitions, donating to Black charities, having thoughtful conversations about race, and listening to others.
I am also doing some voluntary work with a women’s charity in Bristol, and getting involved in charities that support Black and ethnic minority communities. I’m setting up a support group for mixed-race people in my circle, to provide a safe space to discuss issues that cannot comfortably be discussed with white friends. I think it is important to speak to people who can relate to how you feel, to know you are not alone in how you feel affected.
The last thing I will say, for white or non-Black allies who are looking to do better: even though I (or other mixed people) sometimes choose to educate others about race, it’s not my role, nor my responsibility (and nor is it the place of a Black person) to do so. It is really essential that people educate themselves first that so they can join this conversation from an informed position. It’s also okay if you say or do something wrong, as long as you are happy to be corrected — this how we all learn.
I would deem these three books as essential reading. Why I Am No Longer Talking To White People About Race by Renni Eddo-Lodge is a book I received from my sister when it was first published in June 2017. As you can see, it’s been very well read and it’s such an important book, especially for anyone under the impression that the UK is not racist.
Natives: Race and Class In The Ruins Of Empire by Akala is a very powerful book. I had actually gone to see him in discussion last year and he is such an articulate, intelligent person and there is a lot of untold history in this book.
The third book Black, Listed: Black British Culture Explored by Jefferey Boakye is a book I am still finishing and I’ve enjoyed every second of it. He has explored literally every term that is related to Black people and Blackness, and I feel as if I am learning the most from this book and it is so relatable on so many levels.