I grew up very multicultural town in South London called Croydon. Now people can say what they want about croydon and they do! (SHOUTOUT TO MY CROYDON MASSIVE!!).
BLACK HISTORY MONTH was an event that thankfully during early school that we celebrated, however through the years it has disappeared from media, which fucking is pretty disgraceful. To be honest we should be celebrate black cultural every day.
There was undying feeling that I was different. I remember my first encounter when I realised I was not considered the norm, I was in primary school when ...
My mum had decided to do something a little different with my hair (I guess she just bored of doing the same old cainrows),so gave me a traditional Acholi hairstyle. I went to school not really bothered by the way it looked. In fact I was more intrigued. I remember that day so clearly: as I was in the playground another kid in my class came up to me and just stared at my barnet for a while, then proceeded to ask "Why is your hair like that?". The curiosity of children can be something of such beauty and sometimes plan right rude, but I literally just stared back at the kid because I didn't know what to say. I ran over to the mirror to see my reflection and began prodding my hair, then an overwhelming sense of dread filled my body. I went home that day and begged my mum to take them "out" lying that they hurt too much.
Black boots MISSGUIDED (sale) £15
Silk dress, PRIMARK £11/ M&S (sale) trousers £8
As diverse as my surroundings were as kid, going through puberty, suddenly discovering boys were alive, the stress of GCSEs and trying to 'fit' in at school was a already a lot for a 14/ 15 year old girl. Once I hit the later years of secondary school. I really wasn't happy with who I was. As a reflection of my diverse town, my secondary school was filled with people from different backgrounds - mainly students of West African descent and Eastern European origin.
Like any teenager, I was consumed with social media, magazines and the latest trends. However I would only see white women on the covers with no imperfections in sight!
I didn't want to be a black girl, because I didn't see that black was beautiful. My coffee-coloured skin (which I believed was unattractive): my big lips, the way my hair was super curly and wouldn't lay straight, my big noise. Several different incidents took place at my five years in my high school life. Mostly comments from my own peers about my appearance. Little did they know how deep those remarks cut me.
To add fuel to the fire, I also had the interests that were unlike those of my fellow classmates. Another reason to label me as peculiar. My teenage years were a time where I would solely listen to rock and indie music, "white people music". My likes conflicted with my classmates that left me to feeling just that like: left out. I did not speak like others, I was labeled a 'coconut', 'bounty'. If only someone told me that liking different genres or music and having interests that wasn't in line with everyone else, it did not make me less black. Without the help of my close knit group of friends. I doubt I would have made it through those five years.
After leaving high school I went to a predominantly white sixth form and I felt lost. I had similar negative comments about the way I spoke (however, in a different light) were etched in my brain and added to the connotation that I was different and not in a good light. With no young black girls like myself in the media. I was desperate for someone to relate to.
I feel that young people do not understand the impact that their words have on one another. If we were all alike, wouldn't the world be a dull place to live?!
At university, I found that racism was still evident, but subtly. Which I think is were society is right now, everything is done quietly.
Black is BEAUTIFUL.
I also went to a dominantly white university. I was confronted with comments all over again. Being called "predator" for wearing braids, "gorilla", telling me I was to dark for the photo and saying the "N" word around me, that sort of thing. Not knowing how to deal with these comments and how blatant and in your face they were. I just awkwardly laughed and looked for an exit.
Different is beautiful. Black is BEAUTIFUL. Black women are empowered and have the world at their feet. That is something I have only learnt in my last few years on this Earth. If anyone is to say different they are talking shit! My features that were put in such a negative light before, I show them off with such pride now. A rich culture and race that I will continue to celebrate in its' entirety and educate others around me that believe otherwise.
xox
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