Breaking my silence

My Facebook is unfiltered and family friendly;

My Instagram is glamorous;

My LinkedIn is formal and conservative.

We all have our manufactured selves, and we are all aware that there is often a society-wide impulse to spin our image to meet just not one ideal of self, but a multitude (3 in the above example). 

So it’s no great revelation that the tone of our discussions and conversations often mirror the platform we are using.

However, with recent events, I couldn’t help but wonder….when it comes to talking about the conversations that matter most (racism, discrimination, diversity and inclusion to name a few) on this platform - should I really have to be formal and conservative?

For a few days now, I have been struggling with how to effectively communicate my thoughts and emotions and it's honestly been so hard to know the right way to respond when feelings of anger, hurt, justification and many more are running through you. For that reason, I’ve listened and observed what has occurred around me.

Does anyone doubt that racism is alive and well? You have to be a hapless Harry not to be profoundly saddened and disturbed by the cycle of violence endured by black men being treated like animals by the very institutions that are there to serve and protect them. But the sad truth is that the protests we have seen (in response to continuous and relentless treatment) on tv across the UK aren’t just in solidarity - racism is alive and well and more dangerous than ever before here in the UK.

I’ve experienced it across every walk of life, in many different forms - from my first week at secondary school as an 11 year old, when I was spat on and called names and pushed, to the teachers that told me to manage my expectations as to what I would achieve academically, to a recent situation in my current job when I attended an event and was assumed to be the hired help (even though the staff were all in uniform).

Racism is here, it’s been here for a lifetime and before and dare I say, it may always be here.

As I read an article posted by a former boss of mine, her words rang true, and encapsulated exactly what I (and millions of Black Britons) have felt through our lives, that: 

“…in many ways the issue is worse in the UK because it is much more covert. A lot of the time, it’s not necessarily spoken but rather, an undercurrent that runs quietly beneath conversations as a subtext.”

That undercurrent has always most prevalent in my work environments.

Yet, it’s a strange and conflicting feeling, because even in this moment, I find myself trying not to have those uncomfortable conversations, trying to be formal and conservative, to offer words of wisdom on the best ways to interact with black colleagues going forward. To be positive.

But how can you have those positive interactions if you struggle to convey or to have those uncomfortable conversations about the negativity, the hurt and the subtext of what has come before? 

George Floyd’s violent death unleashed an anger that’s been felt across the world. But the racial incident that hits home, that maybe stung the most for many professionals like me, is the one involving Amy Cooper, the woman who was caught on tape calling 911 to report a phony threat by “an African American man” in Central Park.

Cooper taps a nerve with me because the unfortunate reality is she could be anyone of my LinkedIn connections, even though I’d like to pretend she’s not. 

That moment captured on video provided a bracing tutorial in what bigotry among the urbane looks like — the raw, virulent prejudice that can exist beneath the varnish of the right credentials, accessories, social affiliations - it provided the window into what the world looks like and feels like for someone like me.

Franklin Templeton (her employer) fired Cooper, the company proclaimed, because it “doesn’t tolerate racism of any kind,’’ sanctimoniously turning a crisis into an opportunity to showcase values. This is where the lump in my throat sticks.

Like most big corporations and nonprofit organisations, Franklin Templeton promotes its agenda in what is now known as diversity and inclusion. Every company that I have worked for now does the same. It’s the two HR buzz words that are used to ensure that employees are welcoming and open-minded — but the reality is that it is an investment in comity as much as it is in public relations and liability protection. It is about optics and presentation.

This is why I worry that companies in my industry use these protests as a PR exercise rather than a legitimate approach and concern - much in the same way that for some, COVID-19, has been used as a way of turning risk and disaster into opportunity. 

After all, I’ve seen former employers (who were never diverse or inclusive, or culturally aware) make what has at times felt like virtual signalling statements on racism, diversity and inclusion.

After all, we’ve seen commentary from the heads of major organisations (such as Roger Goodell, NFL commissioner (the same Goodell that ostracised Colin Kaepernick)) pledge to "be committed to continuing the important work to address [the] systematic issues informing the protests."

My question and challenge is why has it taken a George Floyd for the statements to be made? Where were these same statements at the time of Amy Cooper?

Another former colleague of mine makes a similar point in saying:

“Let this be more than a time for companies to put out a statement that racial diversity is important. Let this be a time for real change. We’ve waited long enough.”

Surely you can see it from my perspective right? - it’s reasonable to be dubious, particularly when the statements in question offer little to nothing in the way of plans or concrete actions. 

But then silence does nothing to change the status quo and that’s why another other part of me is happy that I see people and organisations making such efforts to make this point in time a real turning point in racial discourse. 

I applaud those that are giving solutions, throwing ideas out there - we need more of that for sure - but before that, there clearly needs to be more of an unfiltered, uncensored understanding of why we feel the way we do and why it runs so deep. This is not something that dies out or loses momentum when the next big opportunity comes along, because for me, this is my life.

So my hope and my wish looking forward, is that in this one post, I too can begin to change the narrative:

My Facebook is unfiltered and family friendly;

My Instagram is glamorous;

My LinkedIn breaks my silence.