IMAGINING BLACKNESS
I would like to recall a taxi ride I took from Mississauga to Oakville, suburbs of Toronto. My Guyanese driver and I, having exhausted all channels of niceties and politeness, decided to put the world to rights there and then. Canada, to me, appears an open, tolerant nation, espousing `official' multi-culturalism, and a positive immigration policy to third-world nations. I therefore posed the question “Has Canada treated you, as a black man, well?” Despite freezing his nuts off each and every winter, he admitted that Canada had been good to him and his family, but then continued to cuss other members of the international black community for, without going into too much detail, giving his “race” a bad name. Immediately, in the front seat of that cab in the most ethnically-diverse city in the world, I became the advocate for all black peoples. I leapt on him like he never expected. “But its all the white man's fault!” I proclaimed, apologising, as I did, for the hundreds of years of colonisation, slavery, discrimination and inequality thrust onto them by the European Imperial powers. “It's a vicious cycle that the white man has put the black man in. White man hates black man, doesn't give him job, food, home; black man ends up impoverished; black man turns to alternative means to survive, often crime; white man hates black man even more” . He shrugged his shoulders, looking at me as if I didn't have a clue. I didn't have a clue. I'm not black, never have been. I can't claim that it is black people that give “us” a bad name. I wouldn't even contemplate it. But here, my seemingly successful black cab-driver was daring to claim that the only enemy the blacks have is themselves.
It was an enlightening taxi ride, but the driver and I departed our separate ways, agreeing, as one does in such circumstances, to disagree. But, I have to admit, my driver did raise some interesting and important questions. These questions have been raised yet again during the last two weeks, in an almost uncanny trail of events.
An article in the London Student (October 27th - November 15th) by Denis Fernando, recently elected NUS Black Students Officer, left me feeling awkward and confused. In it he inexplicitly posed some fundamental questions about the definition of `blackness'. Denis Fernando's article, part of a London Student Anti-racism special, was an explanatory description of the role of a Black Students Officer and how it seeks to redress the imbalance and inequality between Blacks and other students in higher education and on our campuses. While its aim his wholly admirable, the mere existence of a `Black' Students Officer appears inherently problematic. Fernando claims that “The position is voted for black students, by black students, enshrining the principle of black self-organisation”. Already, the position is leaning towards a form of electoral segregation by attempting to define who is, and who is not, `black'. It also totally ignores the ability for non-blacks (whoever they are) to empathise and be moved by black causes by withdrawing their right to elect who they want blacks to be represented by. Why should it be assumed that only those that fall within a group can only ever understand the desires and motivations of that given group?
Fernando does go on to state that the “Black Students Campaign aims to support and represent African, Asian and Caribbean students as well as other students who self-define as black”. Does this mean that because I listen to R `n' B, or because I detest the imperial legacy, or because I recognise that no-one is ever wholly `white' that I can define myself as `black' and thus vote for a Black Students Officer? Clearly not.
A front-page article in the Daily Telegraph on November 24th (not that I particularly live my life by the word of the Telegraph), dared to make the fresh claim that British police “show no race bias in searches”. According to extensive Home Office studies, a white person is more likely to be stopped than his black counterpart and claims that there is no “general pattern of bias”. True or not, it is an attempt by the Home Office to hit back at attempts of victimising the black community. Whilst institutional racism may be a simple fact within the United Kingdom, how much longer are members of the black community going to consider themselves `victims'. Institutional sexism is just as much a part of British society, but women no longer consider themselves the long-suffering underdog of a patriarchal regime. I do not claim to hold an answer to the ongoing sentiment of `victimisation' within the `black' community, and its prolongation may still continue to hold significance. But, how many times must a `white' man say sorry, in order that he need say sorry no more?
Most recently, the stabbing of 10 year-old Damilola Taylor raised much speculation over its cause and its effect on the community. Questions have been asked about the motivation behind the killing, and the suggestion that it was an attack by Caribbean youth on this young Nigerian boy, clearly demonstrates the fragility of identification with the terminology `black' and `blackness'. To assume that there exists a global `black' culture and a homogenous `black' identity is wholly inaccurate. The war in Rwanda was a clear demonstration of this. Even within the British `black' community there exists hostility between those of African and Caribbean origin. Often Africans, who are usually higher-educated, look down on Caribbeans in an almost snobbish fashion, blaming them for the bad reputation of blacks as a whole. Caribbeans blame Africans for the role they played in selling their ancestors off to slave-traders and even, in some cases, assisting with the work of the slave-traders. Even deeper divisions exist between the individual nations of Africa and the Caribbean, too deep, in fact, to portray all the possibilities for conflict on this page here.
The last few weeks have proved to be an eye-opening period for a white country-boy like myself. Being white is perhaps the biggest obstacle to any form of persuasion to the black community that we really might be beginning to understand their struggle and are willing, and wanting, to assist. But there are those within this imagined `black' community who are constantly raising higher fences to ensure that they, and only they, can ultimately be the ones to pull themselves out of the hole dug by their white oppressors.
I have attempted to raise many questions, perhaps too many, in this article about the state of `blackness'. They are simply questions and not, necessarily, to be confused as being rhetorical attempts to indirectly impose my, sometimes warped, opinions. For when one hears of a stabbing of a young boy in Peckham, or the failure of the judiciary to bring those responsible for the murder of Stephen Lawrence to justice, it is not wise to sit idly by and believe that this is the way of the world, the way it has always been, and the way it forever will be. Questions must be raised, passions must be stirred, nothing must be assumed to be black or white.
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