It Matters

Photo credit ; Logan Wearver

I am deeply saddened and disturbed by the recent death of George Floyd in America, and my heart goes out to his friends, family and community. No one should endure this violence and the violation of their human rights. His death has come at a time when we are all vulnerable, with the pandemic, and it shines a powerful light on our unequal society. Like the me-too movement, I hope that things will change. Change can come about if we can share our stories and bring them to the light. Most importantly, these stories need to be heard, believed and understood, acknowledging that we do not all share the same experiences. I want to share one of mine.
"Black people do not go to art college" is what my art teacher told me. My year group were all gathered together in a meeting to help us decide our future creative careers. I was one of the only black people in the room, so this message was for me. It was painful to hear, and one of many uncomfortable moments in my life which I would experience with regards to my colour. All black people will have many such stories.

Reflecting on what my art teacher said, it could have been her way of preparing or deterring me for the road ahead. For me, this was a turning point and made me determined to get to art college. I have no idea what my teacher's intention was and why she delivered this message in this way. She had singled me out and planted a seed. But she was right.

My foundation art course department was in an area with a predominately BAME population. The art facility was a gated, low-rise building in the middle of a council estate, surrounded by high rise flats. To access and exit the site, you needed to walk through an almost all-black neighbourhood, only to walk through the gates into an all-white community. I found this both confusing and disturbing.

Of the 150 attendees, there were only four black people on the course, three women and one man. This ratio of BAME representation continued through to my degree. There was only a single black person in each year of the three-year course, all women. The same was echoed throughout the whole art department, and I am in no doubt that my course probably had the highest percentage of black people in the whole of the art school.

My lived experience is that I do not meet other black artists, I do not meet other black gallery owners, and I do not meet other black businesswomen.

I often find myself being the only black person in the room. I am always thinking 'where are they'. The fact is that black people are absent or underrepresented in industries, sectors and professions. If we are not there, our voices cannot be heard; we are not counted. If we are always in the margins, then we continue to be seen as different, exotic, the 'other'. How can young people aspire to be the best they can be if they see far too few people like them in significant or influential positions?

As a visual person, I see black and white as colours. So-called black and white people are rarely those colours. We are all various shares of blue, green, pinks, yellows and browns. We are all people of colour. The terminology used to categorise our skin colour is crude. I feel uncomfortable referring to anyone by it, whether they are black or white.

We are people, and our language and behaviour limits us and creates differences which further divides. All of us have different heritages and belong to different tribes. There are so many forms of tribes, and we might belong to many throughout our lives. As individuals, we are all searching to belong and to be loved. To be being part of a tribe where we can feel at home. Black history makes it very difficult for us to find our tribes, so often we become islands. Underrepresentation reinforces this isolation.

Life matters and no one should die because of the colour of their skin, in poverty, their gender or beliefs. Our skin colour should not be what defines us; our unique talents and individualism should be cherished and encouraged. No one should ever be held back.

We are not different races; we are the same race; the human race. When we are racist, we are discriminating against our common race. No two human beings are the same, and this is what we should be focusing on and celebrating, and not working against one another.

Photo credit : Donovan Valdivia