Being Black (and) British
Part 2: “It’s a London T’ing”
Most of my Black family live in the US or the Caribbean. Those in my generation or above are either immigrants or born to immigrants from Jamaica. They became Black Americans (some of them) over time.
Some of them married African-Americans, and their children have grown up as Americans with a Caribbean heritage. They pass as African-Americans, though. I don’t think people care much about whether they are culturally African-American, or not.
I see my cousins and many other people like them as Black Americans. They are Black people with American nationality. Ethnically and culturally, they are Black Caribbean or Black African or Black Latinx, etc. There are also African-Americans who are Black people who have pretty much been in the US since slavery. While they are also Black Americans, they’re more specifically African-American. It’s a distinct Black culture.
I’m the youngest child of my paternal generation, I think. Only one of my first cousins was born in America. She’s about five years older than me. The rest were all “sent for” by our grandmother once she emigrated to New York throughout the 1980s and 1990s. My dad has already been in the UK for twenty years at that point.
My immigrant cousins didn’t have a positive experience in school — especially the females. They were bullied by African-American girls in school and later as women in the workplace. Most of my US-based family work in Healthcare: largely female, racially diverse workforces until you reach the higher levels of management.
They mocked their accents, their clothes, and their culture. In fact, those African-American women often applied the Angry Black Stereotype to those immigrant women. They portrayed them as uncouth, aggressive, and incompetent.
That’s the negative — but there’s also the neutral stuff. I’ve been to America many times, but I’d never eaten soul food until my last trip. Why? Because my American family are Jamaicans and they eat Caribbean food at home.
I’m constantly surprised when I watch US programs about animals on Discovery or the like because of the numerous Black people who work as vets or as Animal Welfare Officers. In Caribbean (and African) culture, animals aren’t really seen as pets in the same way as they are in the US or Europe. It’s difficult to even buy dog food in some Black countries. I know one Black (but not British) vet in the UK, and he’s scared of most animals!
I’m explaining all of this because it goes some way to why I’ve always seen African-American culture as really quite distinct from Caribbean culture. It also goes some way to explain how different it is being Black British or just Black in Britain. Also, why I (and many others like me) only really identified with being Black British when I am around Black people who are not British.
Like many British people of Black heritage, I think my main connection with a Black British identity came through the music, film, and television aimed at this first to third-generation audience. It was here where we would hear our colloquial urban language littered with words from across our varied backgrounds. Our TV shows and films would feature social issues with which we are more familiar and the very British racism we experience.
This is the Black British culture we have which is a direct parallel to African-American culture, just with ours occurring much sooner after our mass move to this country. But it’s still very different. We won’t ever have a “Black British Vernacular” as such because it likely won’t be labelled “Black British”. It will reflect the fact that although the way we tend to speak in the larger cities and particularly London has a definite Caribbean “twang”, it’s actually influenced by immigration from many non-EU countries.
This is one of the things that separate some of our racial issues from US racial issues. Although we of course, have prolific racism in the UK, some of our feelings about subjects like cultural appropriation differ from the general opinions of Black people in the US. We don’t have the same history.
An example I just thought of is watermelon. In Europe, it’s a Mediterranean thing — we don’t have the same racial connotations with watermelon as the US. It’s through American media that I learned that it was “a thing” white people used to stereotype and degrade Black people. It’s quite possible to grow up in Britain and be totally unaware that there is even this association. Therefore, British people (Black or otherwise) might say something offensive without even understanding that history.
Notting Hill Carnival is a Caribbean event that started in the 60s as a response to racial prejudice. It’s now one of the most popular carnivals in the world. In recent years, British singer Adele was heavily criticised for posting a picture of herself where she wore a Jamaica flag bikini and had her hair in Bantu knots in celebration of the carnival. This has always been the norm for Notting Hill Carnival. It’s not like a “must”, but it certainly wouldn’t cause a batted eyelid.
It’s a day when Britain decides to immerse itself in a celebration of Black Caribbean culture. Everyone eats the food, dances to the music, and many wear Carnival clothes. It’s absolutely true that I can’t imagine white Americans doing something similar at some sort of Hip Hop Festival, but that’s because of our different histories.
It’s important to understand these differences in the Black diaspora because there are times when our unification is vital. African-Americans have a huge voice due to their large numbers and the fact they are situated in the global West. Failing to understand how racial identity and racism vary across the globe creates a sense of distance and even conflict between us. This essentially weakens us as a united people.
There are Black Americans who are very knowledgeable about racial issues within America and particularly the nuances of internalized racism. They can speak extensively about how Black people prop up the systems of white supremacy that ultimately oppress them. But the problem is sometimes they try to generalise these issues outside of the US, where they aren’t quite transferable. And then they accuse the Black people in those countries of being ignorant when they challenge their views.
The truth is that Black people in Britain are more likely to have a connection with a Black country than an African-American person. Interestingly, the linguistics/accent coach who worked on the Black Panther films mentioned the difference between Daniel Kaluuya's and Leticia Wright’s London accents. Daniel’s parents are from Uganda, whereas Leticia’s parents are from Guyana, where she also emigrated from as a child. And as a Londoner, I can hear that. I can hear that she is from a Caribbean background and that he is African despite both of them essentially having British accents.
Black Millennials in Britain, at most, are third-generation immigrants, and that gives us a perspective on being Black in the West that African-American people lack. It’s not a bigger or more detailed picture, but it’s a different one. While Black people are not Indigenous to the Caribbean, as they were also displaced from Africa, they managed to create a non-Western culture within countries that were predominantly non-white, if not majority Black.
African-American people often assume in Britain, we are more removed from Black culture than they are, and that’s why we don’t understand why something is racist. As I’ve said, we arguably have closer access to Black culture within Black countries. It’s different rather than absent. And I wouldn’t say there is necessarily less prejudice either; it just takes a different form.
That’s another thing people like to say, like Samuel L. Jackson, when he said that British people don’t experience racism as African-Americans have, and therefore, shouldn’t be cast in African-American roles. Kaluuya, who Jackson was talking about, is a dark-skinned Black guy of Ugandan descent, only a little younger than me. Kaluuya would have experienced prejudice for being African and dark-skinned, as well as general anti-Black racism.
Yes, when we were younger, it was thought it was “better” to be Caribbean because it was seen as more attractive (read Western) than it was to be African. Sort of like having “good hair” or “light skin.” The only thing to worry about him bringing to the role would be a convincing accent. I’d say the same if he was going to play a Scottish character.
Transatlantic slavery isn’t a compulsory module in the UK curriculum; however, they do teach it in many schools. Of course, they play down the true horrors of colonisation and the British Empire, but we do learn about America after we left and particularly post-slavery and into the Civil Rights Movement. It’s part of how we learn to view ourselves as superior to Americans because we never had segregation or Slavery in quite the same explicit way.
We learn about segregation in America and apartheid in South Africa. We learn about how we “helped” in the Middle East post World War 2 by establishing the State of Israel. We learn a little about the hardship that’s caused.
Nevertheless, my point is that we learn a fair bit about history and racism in the USA, whereas Americans don’t seem to know much about the history of the Black population in Britain. It’s not something covered in schools. Kaluuya would definitely know more about the plight of an African-American than Jackson knows about the everyday life of a Black person in Britain.
We aren’t better Black people than any other Black people, but we do have our own history, culture, and trauma that separates us from the rest of the Black diaspora and particularly, African-Americans. Embracing these differences instead of shunning them is how we move forward as a global community.
