Oh, I’m Black?
Hey there!
As this is my first letter and the primary driver behind it being written is some sort of addictive substance — take these next words with a pinch of salt :).
Sometimes you have these memories that reoccur, you know? Really vivid throwbacks to a life defining moment. Mine, ripple. These sort of memories trigger earlier memories and also remind me of the exact moment something shifted in me, whether it was my character or my conviction on certain beliefs.
I just had one of my go-to character building memories again, but something struck me about it that has never struck me before. And, it rippled. No, it totally caused waves in my conscious.
There was an English tomboy girl who I used to call my best friend in primary school. I looked up to her so much. I thought she was cool, confident, unapologetic and also, the first person to ever SEE me. Like, really see me. Wanted to know me for who I was. I absolutely revered her. I was very quiet and insular then. It’s not a time of my life I remember often, but it’s the time I can first remember genuinely feeling like the odd one out/like the “side-kick” or pushover. The memory which centres all these other memories where I have felt weak, powerless and insignificant, is one between myself and this “best-friend”, whom I loved mind you.
We were playing in her front garden. It was in the summer I think too and one of the first times I had ever visited an English persons house. I was struck by the dog at first, the way it freely galloped around and the wild way she would play on the grass around with it. A DOG!? Licking her face, with all its hair and dirtiness. Her freely laughing outside rolling around on the GRASS!? I remember screaming in my head, eyes wide with wonder, thinking “MY MUM WOULD KILL ME!”. I was deeply intrigued though; I couldn’t believe how free she was? Also, it was the first time I actually touched a dog and didn’t deeply fear them, as my mum had drummed the mantra in me that dogs were dangerous and I had seared in my mind the scar from the dog bite on her leg. I was also acutely aware of how different we were in that moment and that I was a black girl and she was a white girl. I’m not sure I really saw the difference in terms of race before, until I was in her front garden, watching her play around with AN ANIMAL? WHAT? *mums Nigerian accent shrilling voice*. Up until that point I only saw our difference in terms of confidence, security and coolness. Like, I really revered her! All my memories of her were of me walking behind her and looking to her for direction, as well as doing everything she asked. Backing her up on every fight. Actually up until this point I didn’t realise that in fact; I was competing with her. It was honestly that intense. Imagine this 7 year old with such a strong furrowed brow just staring at people and figuring out why I was worse and they were better. Prettier, happier and up until I was in my friends’ garden; I guess I didn’t realise they were also freer.
Now all that confusion and mix of emotions birthed the beginning of an anger/frustration. I probably had some other moments where this had happened before, but this is the one I distinctly remember as it changed our whole friendship. Everything in her house I remember started to irritate me as the realisation of how different we were dawned on me. In her room she had a poster of South Park, a programme my church had said was evil. She had a swimming pool, inflatable one, but cool enough, in her back garden. We screamed and laughed around playing with water guns, a toy my mum had thrown away. We were screaming and running all over the place right in the presence of her parents!! I was thrilled, anxious, exhilarated, scared, joyous and increasingly irritated as the day went by. The food they served for dinner — I remember being deeply disappointed. The flashpoint in anger on the day though, was when a [ play fight?] got particularly rough in her garden. I remember the moment she grabbed my cheeks roughly while pinning me down and I think she warned me to never[challenge her?] again. I was super angry at that point and I remember promising myself that I would surpass her and prove to her that I didn’t need her. I could go it alone! LOL
So, after coming back into school on Monday I remember distinctly feeling a few things:
1. She’s a white girl and I’m a black girl. We are very different. Although complicated, because on some level I felt a weird sort of envy? I felt completely removed from her freeness with the dog, but at the same time, I wish I had that same freedom…Maybe just not rolling around on the grass like that!
2. Fuck her, I can beat her and I don’t need her and she’s not that cool anyway. Who enjoys such unseasoned, unflavoursome food?
3. Where are all the other black people and what are they doing? Up until around this time I wasn’t aware of my lack of black friends at all.
4. I am pretty damn strange.
In short, first time I felt difference in terms of race and let’s be honest, a clear cultural difference. Like mummy said, “you’re not English, you’re Nigerian”. Made no sense to me up until that point in my life.
The rest of my time at primary & junior school was spent watching the gap between me and her widen and widen and I believe it even gave way to hate at some point. It also meant more anger and frustration as I became increasingly distinctly aware of being Black, not Funmi.
Also, even though at first I felt this was a stupid thing to start my Britgerian story with. It’s probably, I guess, the origin of my current identity.
Being Britgerian
Funmi
