What It Means To Be Black

The term ‘to be black’, means different things to different people. For some, it means remembering our history as slaves and acknowledging the progress we have made. For others it means that you have rhythm and can shake a leg. But for most, it simply means, the colour of your skin. When I was growing up I knew I was black. I was the only black child in my class, one of only six black children in my year and the only other black person in my school was a teacher, Mr Richards. On my road, there were black families but not so many, that we did not know each other and even then, the families were scattered far and wide. Still, being black had never been an issue for me and I progressed through school and life, without any issues relating to my colour.

As I got older, I realised that there was a whole world out there aimed at black people. There was black literature, black films, black hair shops and even all-black events. These were things that I was aware of, but with exception to the black hair shops, did not part-take in. I was happy being myself, not the black me, just me.

As naive as I wanted to remain, it was not to be and last week, my cousin phoned me asking my opinion of black people that hold all-black events. The question stopped me in my tracks right away. Should black people have black only events? We discussed this for many moments until I realised that I had the perfect article. We said goodbye and I started my research.

I have friends of many ages, races and cultures, so T-Mobile had their work cut out for them as I started calling. They threw all sorts of questions back at me ‘What is black?’; ‘In England or anywhere?’; ‘Do you mean events to which only black people are invited?’ I felt overwhelmed and answered as best I could, but reiterated my question, ‘Do you think that black people should have black-only events?’.

The first person I asked had a strong answer:

‘Yes, we need to understand ourselves. Black people need to meet role models like themselves and have people to look up to in order to see success and know that this is where we come from and what we can aspire to.’ Monika Gittens
Of course, the question of the Music Of Black Origin (MOBO) awards came up and as expected, many were confused as to the context or real purpose of the awards.

‘You could question what music of black origin is. Elvis’ music could be seen as music of black origin. I mean, doesn’t our perception of what black is, have to do with what the slave masters told us it is? Mixed race people are considered black if their hair is curly, but if they have dead straight hair and blue eyes, aren’t they considered more white?’ Paul Boldeau, Black Professional
I realised that the discussion of what black actually was, could blow the context of the article apart, so I stated that black, in this context, meant people of West-Indian or African descent.
My friends were as passionate as I was about the question I posed and before long I had a headache. However, that did not stop my quest for the right answer. Many recalled slavery and civil rights:

‘No, having black events for black people should not happen any more. How can people call themselves civil rights leaders if they only deal with black peoples civil rights? ‘ Jenard Dyer, young black student
Paul and Jenard made valid points, but I knew that I had to get a broad range of answers, so I spoke to others:

‘If black people have black events, it’s being as discriminatory as white people holding white-only events. Equality is not equality if they have the black only events.’ Aaron Sokell, white vocalist
I got to the stage where most people were against the black-only events and I was beginning to think this article may just be too easy. What about the Asians and the Chinese, don’t they have events for their own cultures? Was that wrong too? Were my friends just against black-only events because they assumed the black people we spoke of were English-speaking? Would it have made a difference if I had been asking about Hispanic events instead?

I continued to call. My phone bill was getting higher, but my call list was getting shorter and I was finally getting a range of responses, all different but all perfectly valid.

‘If they want them, black people should be able to have them. There are Asian only clubs in Leicester Square. I was walking down the road with my Chinese friend the other day and someone offered her a flyer but wouldn’t give me one because I am not Chinese. I wasn’t offended...’ Kayleigh Lewis, white student
‘Yes, they should have black only events. They should all be in the same place so that they can be monitored’ Bill, Asian Prison Officer
I wondered whether Kayleigh’s viewpoint would change with age and whether Bill’s opinion was bourn out of experience. How much did our experiences affect our answer to this question?
With all the answers I had acquired, I was no closer to coming up with a definitive answer. I had gotten the perspective of people of all races, colours and cultures.

It then dawned on me, maybe that was my problem. I was looking for an answer. Perhaps there was no answer. Wasn’t it all about perspectives?

I sat at my desk. I had stopped typing. As I read through all of the quotes people had given me, I asked myself, what did I think? I realised that before I started to get the opinions of others, I thought I had the answer. I was sure that there was no way that black-only events should be tolerated, and while my fundamental view had not changed, my eyes had been opened to the perspective of others. How could I possibly judge Bill or Monika for being pro all-black events, when I had not walked in their shoes?

I powered down my laptop. I would sleep on it. Maybe, I would change my mind tomorrow.