To be a young black British adult, living under the white gaze and trying to navigate life, you start to build walls. Some walls we build to protect ourselves from previous life experiences, and others are built out of caution given by our elders. Either way, it’s not something we wanted; it’s something that becomes. 

We become spectators in our own lives, falling into narratives spoken over us for years. We walk through life ready to shrug off or laugh about ignorant comments and start to believe that ‘it’s just the way it is’.  

Being half Ghanaian and half Bajan, I’ve always had a very interesting relationship with race and what it means to me. Though I’m not mixed race, I am often faced with a surprise when I describe my heritage. When I say where I’m from it is followed by questions of which parent is from where, and people retelling stories of when they went to either country on a holiday. I don’t perceive either as an issue. I have even found myself doing the same to others. What does make me chuckle (not in a funny way, but in that raised eyebrows, ‘if you say so’ kind of way) are the comments I get on my looks. Often, if I get a compliment on my hair, face or anything else people immediately associate it with my Bajan heritage. Of course, this is the side of my identity which, societally, has been made more commercial, more palatable to the white eye, like many other Caribbean islands in comparison to African countries which are marketed as primitive and poor which is not the case. 

Don’t get me wrong, I, like most, absolutely love black culture and where we come from. The music, the food, the memories, the shared experiences. We as black people are united in our upbringing and culture and I certainly wouldn’t change any of that. However, we play the game and do the dance to become successful in society, becoming numb to the fact that the people playing the music only care about the fruits of our labour and not the labourers – us.  

We are living through a time where everyone is ‘trying to learn’ about racism and the nuances associated with blackness. We are taught that racism must be overt for it to count like saying the N-word, spitting in someone’s face or obvious segregation. But it’s not – racism is not getting the promotion you are due because you ‘don’t fit the brand’, it’s being watched in the shop when you walk around, it’s the thought in the back of your mind to touch our hair or comment on how well-spoken we are. It all stems from the shock that we are like everyone else. As if we are still having to prove ourselves?! 

To those who are white, I would urge you to not just stop at the point of learning where you know not to act on impulse - to touch us or ask why it’s only racist to a black person and not someone who’s white. Instead, as a black person who is the subject of your privileged gaze, I challenge you to understand why you think that way. That is where the real learning begins.  

To those who are black, I would encourage you to not feel the pressure to answer for all black people, only speak from your experience. Remove the pressure to be the best all the time. I love #BlackGirlMagic as much as the next person, but it is key to remember superheroes don’t exist how they are shown in the movies. So, take that weight off your shoulders. We are not magical, we are human! 

Myself having both white and black family, both white and black friends, I am constantly humbled by the conversations we all have and the learning that we undertake every time we are together. From the jokes about me having my eggs very well done in comparison to their – what I would call raw, but they call runny – eggs. To the more serious conversations on racial bias, or how nervous I get visiting their new homes outside of London, knowing very well my experience as a Black person will be very different.  

Irrespective of how we get to these conversations, being together allows for new learning and new growth. I don’t fight every battle, I don’t answer every question, but I keep and encourage us all to consistently learn and stand up for what matters, even when you hear a situation that you can’t relate to… why? 

Because being black isn’t black and white, and every single one of us would do well to remember that.