Black History Month – My Experiences
Words By Ebonie G.
Hello October! How quickly you have come back round again! So has the time we all know called Black History Month.
So some say what’s the point? Why isn’t there a white history month? Why is it a whole month?
To be honest, I didn’t even know it was a thing until about 6 years ago. Coming from Kent there wasn’t anything of the sort! Whilst living in Southampton, I started going to the African Caribbean Society at University, which would actually party all the time not just October, but as the years went on I realised that the WHOLE of Southampton would be having events, festivals, concerts and even opening ceremonies! Obviously being black and a musician I took part in a lot of these events, and I have to say, it was great to celebrate my heritage and the journey of the African Diaspora which has played a huge part in what I’m able to do as a young black female today.
My experience of being black is a complex and detailed one.
Being born in Kent as practically an only child living at home with parents of an age gap of roughly 50 years, I found myself influenced mostly by the media around me. This was mostly popular culture with groups like S Club 7, Spice Girls, Britney Spears – all things that do not contain ‘soul’ whatsoever! lol Even though my parents would play old classic reggae and mo-town, I became more interested in jumping up and down to Backstreet Boys. (Don’t act like you didn’t too lol). All my friends were the same, we enjoyed ourselves learning the macarena and had a great time in doing so.
My first recall of racism was in infant school when two boys, one white and one asian ganged up on me and started calling me names. I remember feeling targeted and their words hurt even though some didn’t make sense. The Asian boy called me a ‘Paki’ *eyes rolling – how ironic. Luckily I had friends who would contradict these bullies, stand up for me and love me through it all. I didn’t see or understand the difference between us. To me, I was the same. It made me become aware of my colour and I started to hate the fact that I was different.
As a child you just want to fit in and not have to explain why your hair is curly or why the colour of your palm is white but the rest of you is black. I wanted to be white because that is all I could see. In films, the white actor was always the main role with a black actor as the sidekick. The black actor was always the first to die. There was no range or diversity in what a black person would be portrayed as. In history we learnt about King Henry the 8th, The Tudors, Elizabethans and Vikings but none of it I could identify with. There was one video we watched bout slavery which was more like a horror film than an educational programme and it upset me to see that MY only link to some sort of history was slavery.
© Galleria Nazionale di Arte Antica, Rome.
It’s only when I reached the age of about 12 when I realised my preferences started to vary from what my friends’ were. I began getting into more RnB with artists like Boyz II Men, Eternal, Brandy and even rap artists like LL Cool J, Busta Rhymes and Missy Elliot. Soon after, it was more apparent that I was different to most of my friends.
As time went on more black families started moving from London to our area. I found people who had similar interests and my journey into black culture flourished. Films like ‘Roots’ helped fill in the gaps I never learnt in history at school and music from artists like Destiny’s Child, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Angie Stone, Lauryn Hill and Musiq Soul Child satisfied my thirst for headbopping beats, soulful melodies and infectious groove patterns. I found who I was and loved ME again. It was then ok to be black, in fact your cool factor went up if you were black AND of Jamaican heritage. Luckily for me I was both lol. Black faces became more prominent on screen with shows like ‘Desmonds’ and I was no longer alone and different. I was a part of a culture, which was vibrant, fun, exotic and loved.
In November of 2009 I was luckily enough to go to Jamaica for the first time and see where my mother grew up. With its humble setting, dirt track roads and man-made tin shack houses, it was a far cry from the luscious hotels and beaches I always see in the holiday brochures. This was the REAL Jamaica. It made me think of the courage both of my parents had to pluck up in order to leave all they knew to start a new and better life for their family in a completely different country of what must have seemed like a completely different world.
Mom tells me of all the racism she endured when she came here, but through it all she still smiles. They came to this country to work hard and even though my Mom is 75 she is STILL working hard. I am so proud of them. Whilst there, I met my Dad’s side of the family for the first time. This experience I will never forget. I’ve never had a lot of family around me so seeing about 7 different people who look SO similar to me all welcoming me in and hugging me was the most overwhelming thing in the world. It was like looking into the mirror with some of them. The family I always dreamed about meeting. I felt like I was home.
I can gladly say that I stand here today as a well rounded person. I celebrate Black History Month because I am celebrating the likes of people like Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela and Abraham Lincoln who dedicated their lives to fighting for the fair and equal world we live in today. Everyone whether black or white, deserves to live fearlessly, ambitiously and fully.
God doesn’t see colour, he sees people who he loves dearly and if God sees no fault in you then why should you?
‘No longer will I hide away because of the colour of my skin
No longer are the demons conflicting from within
People fought and paid the price, so that I’d be free
So I will be proud of black and continue to love me’
Ebonie G. 2014
