Bridging the racial divide, my story.

Over the past weeks the world has watched and reacted to unspeakable acts of hatred that have resulted from the death of black lives across the US. Such acts fueled by bias and hate, still occurring at a time the world is facing potentially the largest pandemic and economic depression of our lifetimes can only be a catalyst for widespread outcry but potentially change.

Whilst the inhumane actions of a few individuals thousands of miles away may seem far removed from the reality of some of us, many fail to understand or even recognise the systemic discrimination deeply rooted in society, ingrained in institutions and systems that treat blacks or minorities differently than they do others. Many black people across the globe face discrimination everyday!

Over the past few days, I had a number of my closest white friends and colleagues reach out to me to engage, understand; and seek enlightenment on what it means to be black and the significance of this present moment.

Thomas Sankara said “The enemies of a people are those who keep them in ignorance"

In times like this, silence is ignorance! It’s not enough to not be racist, we should aspire to be anti-racist. This should be a time to pull people together, listen and learn about the racial prejudices, discrimination and the injustice ethnic minorities face, so for those too shy to open up and ask, I wanted to share my experiences.

Malcolm Gladwell said in this book Outliers, (paraphrasing) "Who we are cannot be separated from where were from, and your surroundings and upbringing affect your circumstances. Success is not a random act. It arises out of a predictable and powerful set of circumstances and opportunities. It’s not the brightest who succeed."

I learnt very early on in life that I was at a disadvantage, growing up black in Britain. My father, a lawyer, staunch pan-Africanist and Nkrumaist (migrating from Ghana post-independence) had been through his own struggles, and had raised my siblings and I with a consciousness to the realities of the world.

As far back as I can remember, I knew I wanted to be an aeronautical engineer. Growing up within 5km of Heathrow, watching aircrafts had become my passion by the age of 10. I excelled in maths, science and design technology but for some reason I was always demoted to lower class sets and deterred from pursuing my dream. In secondary school on careers day, I remember expressing my choices and being fervently discouraged by teachers and advisors, being told I was overambitious and unrealistic.

I was encouraged to aim for more ‘practical vocations’. My white peers who aspired for professions, such as doctors, lawyers or business people were given clear guidelines and goals to suit their aspirations. This career report card, which I’ve kept close to me is my constant reminder that the system is against me, that day 22 years ago, I cried like my life was over!

The influence of peer pressure led many of my friends into juvenile delinquency and rebellion, mainly as a result of not being heard, not being respected nor understood. As a young black teenager, being stopped by the police was a regular occurrence. For anything that could warrant reprimands, I was stopped and searched countless times; I learnt the process and procedures to follow during these targeted stops. In the neighborhood I grew up in, you were made to know not to rely on the law enforcement. I cast my mind back to a day my friend was badly assaulted by an assailant. Rushing to the police station a few blocks away to report the attack, we were shunned. During one extreme encounter, when my good friend of Afghan descent and I were heading back to my residence in Guildford, Surrey at night, we were apprehended by 2 armed police officers, claiming reports filed of 2 coloured men on the streets with batons. They proceeded to hurl abuse at us, swearing with threats and pushing, with their hands on their guns. Expecting a reaction, we dropped our bags and had our hands held high as they searched us before driving off. I’ve been searched systematically, in my car, on streets, been thrown in the back of a police car; I know as a black man that there’s a thin line between assertiveness and aggression. My survival depends on staying on the right side of that balance. You may ask if I ever lodged a complaint, however complaints generally fall on deaf ears. This highlights the institutional nature of this issue.

At the age of 13, I was hit by a car on my way to school one early morning. As I lay unconscious by the side of the road, it was reported that the perpetrator, a white professional male, had made an attempt to drive off, but that his car was apprehended by oncoming traffic. At the scene of the accident, the claim made was that he thought he’d hit a black bag. I spent 3 weeks in hospital and months recovering. It would be later in the year that the trial began and I would face my perpetrator in court for the first time. To cut a long story short, there were no charges, no compensation and no apologies. Anyone that understands the history of English law, and its foundation which is layered with institutional racism would know that if the roles were reversed, if I, a black man, had hit a white boy and attempted to flee or claim I thought it was a ‘white bag’, my life would be over!

Institutionalised racism also extends into the medical system, and the disproportionate number of ethnic minorities dying during this pandemic is a reflection of this. Years after my accident, I developed a severe bronchial condition that eventually led to pneumonia. During the early symptoms of this condition my mother would take me to the GP’s repeatedly, eager for a solution or at least to be referred to a specialist. Despite the escalating condition, the doctor for months would advise my mother that he believed I was ‘seeking attention’. After a private consultation and reference was made, I started what would become an almost decade process to fully recover. In fact, many published studies have shown racial disparities with regards to patient assessment and treatment, with black people disproportionately subject to sub-optimal healthcare due to misdiagnosis, particularly when it comes to pain related diseases. Once again, any complaints fell on deaf ears.

My transition from teenage-hood to university was remarkable to say the least, with a turnaround coming from meeting some influential people and mentors that supported me, restoring my self-confidence and belief that all was not lost. It was Mr Peter Charalambous, our Greek program director for my Engineering diploma, that over the space of 2 years built me and a class of majority ethnic minorities to believe in ourselves. It was Professor Alan Packwood from Surrey that saw something in me, a zeal and belief that I would do whatever it takes, and accepted me on the Aerospace Degree program at Surrey. Prof. Packwood wouldn’t hesitate to invest time and effort in me over the years, and he would eventually recommend name to Airbus when they opened a vacancy for an internship for a student in Surrey. I would like to say the rest was history.

Working in a professional environment, seems very cordial and politically correct, but the undercurrents of racism is underlined in corporate policy. I can speak of the time I participated in a corporate meeting, coffee was being served and one of the leaders indicated he would like his coffee black like me as he proceeded to point to me. I can speak about when I was coerced to do something which for me was out of character, but was given the indication that it would be seen as ‘normal’ because of my background. I can speak of the many publications and images that are put out, which seem to portray those of ethnic minorities in a negative light;

One such image I had to walk by for years, my daily reminder of the implicit bias colored lenses through which these collated ‘art pieces’ are admired and the derogatory connotations it bears witness to; the telling juxtaposition of a stereotype associated with Africa: wildlife and people typecast as a perpetual charity case.

Even in church, I couldn’t be spared. Being told that black people are weird by a leader of a majority white church was surprising to say the least.

What’s happening in the world today is unique, a moment every person who has ever had to face racial prejudice and injustice, sees themselves as a George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Adama Traore or Breonna Taylor. I know that all it takes is meeting the wrong law enforcer on a bad day, who has no regard for background, education or employment status, but who’s basis for judgement is skin deep, and in this they would feel empowered to execute judgement immediately. I am aware that a man getting murdered 1,000s of miles away so casually by a law enforcer who had his knee on the victim’s neck with his hands intently tucked in his pockets for almost 9 minutes as his 3 colleagues looked on, is synonymous to the way the systems and structures choke minorities on a daily basis; everywhere I’ve lived or visited, I’ve faced it.

I have great friends, work with fantastic colleagues, a large majority of whom are open-minded, friendly and genuine; good people. However the problem is good people that remain silent, play it safe by staying in the confines of their demographic.

In the words of Dr.Martin Luther King Jr, “in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends”.

It’s pertinent to note that the 3 cops who watched on as their colleague murdered a man in cold blood are also implicated due to their inaction. Please don’t get me wrong, the abuser isn’t the white person. Across the world today millions of whites have stood in protest. The enemy is institutional racism planted in national, corporate and organisational policies, fueled by funded mass media and social stereotyping. Systems that privilege those to whom they are designed to work for, and make it twice as hard for the rest.

Let’s wake up and realise what’s happening; that we don’t live in an ideal or equal world but we are potentially at a turning point, a new opportunity to create awareness and dialogue, to build bridges and not walls. It’s been said, we’re all experiencing this global pandemic, clearly we’re all in the same storm but not on the same ship. It’s time to weather this storm together as one.

#ICantBreathe #BlackLivesMatter