Black Lives Matter Now. Or Will They In Our Generation?

Summary

The article reflects on the author's experience growing up in a racially prejudiced environment in rural England during the 1970s and the pervasive, underlying racism that still exists in society, emphasizing the need for the Black Lives Matter movement and the eradication of racism.

Abstract

The author recounts their childhood in a predominantly white area of England, where encounters with people of color were rare and often met with fear or condescension, as exemplified by their mother's reaction to seeing a black person for the first time. Despite societal changes, the author points out that the UK still grapples with systemic racism, as evidenced by the popularity of racist television shows in the past and the persistence of racist attitudes post-Brexit. The article criticizes the casual racism prevalent in the author's family and community, and highlights the irony of their Jewish father's anti-Arab sentiments, unaware of his own Arab heritage. The death of George Floyd serves as a catalyst for the author's reflection on the necessity of the Black Lives Matter movement and the hope for a future where race does not define a person's opportunities or identity

Growing Up With Benignly Racist Parents Who Didn’t Know Better But Should Have

Growing up in a farming family in a pretty rural corner of England we didn’t really see any people of colour at all. The UK in the 70s was a pretty racist place and dare I say it, still is underneath the surface. My own Mother who was born in 1932 used to delight in telling me that she had never seen a black man until she was eleven years old. And so shocked was she at the colour of his skin that she was frightened of him and probably ran away.

The scandal of the local rural community at the time when I was growing up came through a lady called Rabena. Rabena was white and adopted a baby. How lovely and noble of her. The baby was black and would grin and gurgle from the comfort of a very old fashioned pram. The year was probably about 1975. Mum and Dad would mutter about how wonderful she was to take a black baby on but even as a child I couldn't help but notice their attitude that it was always OK if it was other people doing it and not their own families and friends. People of colour obviously existed in the world but they didn’t really want them existing in their world.

And God forbid any child of theirs bought a person of colour home as a potential sexual partner. Just not on, no half-caste babies for our family and god forbid as my Mother used to say the dreaded “throwback” of a black baby born generations later due to the mixed union of those that had come before.

The excuse of “ah but they were men and women of a different time and era” rings rather hollow in my mind. No-one says that about the Nazi’s who herded six million Jews, Roma, Homosexuals and disabled folk to the gas chamber. And the different time and era are no getting out clause at all.

Looking back now, the British television of the time was more than offensive. A dreadful show called the “Black and White Minstrels” was very popular. This appalling offering involved a lot of dancing by white men, blacked up with white lips. “Till Death Us Do Part” was broadcast in the UK from the mid-sixties introducing a most awful character called Alf Garnett who thought nothing of bad-mouthing what he called “wogs”. Another one “Love Thy Neighbour was about a white couple who horror of horrors had a West Indian couple move in next door. These TV programmes were watched by a very large proportion of the British population and it probably reinforced the racial tension brewing under the surface and gave it permission to exist.

Many white Englishmen who see their home as their castle probably see people of colour inferior to him and many of those still exist in the UK to this day and the disaster of Brexit has given them a louder voice. A voice now that really should have had its day and shouldn’t be present in everyday life. The British Empire is gone and thankfully gone forever.

I’ve even worked with people who have no hesitation in saying “they come over here, taking our jobs”. Yeah right on love, you work in an office and Mr Naseem who is a Neurosurgeon because he couldn’t get anything better took YOUR job. The NHS is surviving because of our friends from all over the world. What grates me is when people say “I’ve got a nice black nurse looking after me”. Well, why wouldn’t you and is there really any need to mention that he or she is black. A nurse is a nurse and what the hell are the racial origins of your nurse to do with you? When my husband lay seriously ill in a London hospital I heard his older sister say with regard to the medical staff “they’re all coloured”. I died inside of utter disbelief that she believed it was OK to say such a dreadful thing.

My Father was of Jewish descent, he couldn’t stand Arabs and was known to call Yasser Arafat all sorts of names when he popped up on the television. Those of us of a certain age have all heard that term “greasy Arab”. Well little did Daddy know that he was married to one. After both my parents had died my Brother had his DNA done, we share the same Mother but not the same Father. The Mitochondrial bloodline returned a result going directly back to the Gulf of Persia. I share more DNA with the people of Yemen that I do with the country I was born and grew up in.

The killing of George Floyd has ignited a strong Black Lives Matter movement. But it is terrible that the death of a man called George and those before him has brought it to this. Unfortunately, racism has become the norm, its there and always has been there bubbling below the surface like cancer and it needs ripping out by the roots. We should notice people and not their colour.

And no man or woman should walk through a life defined only by the colour of their skin. They should be defined by their achievements, their kindness and their character. And they never should be denied any opportunities because of colour.

Yes, things may have moved on a bit. Certainly, the TV shows I mentioned above would never be made today. They are antiquated and offensive. But it will take several generations yet to remove the rot of racism and I hope the surge of change continues.

Yes, my skin is white but the blood of both the Arab and the Jew courses through my veins.

So how will you define me? As a white 52-year-old woman, or as Shylock the Jew or maybe a greasy Arab.

I hope I live to see a day when I see those three words “Black Lives Matter” replaced with just two.

“Lives Matter”.