A Black Woman's Journey to Understanding Identity and Perception
I grew up in a liberal bubble surrounded by so many beautiful cultures and religions but then when I was 19, I ventured out of that space and moved away - When you leave your “safe space” it opens up your eyes to things you may have missed in the past.
I found myself having to explain to people that my hair didn’t miraculously grow over night as well as having to deal with the shock and awe from people when they found out that I didn’t worship Beyoncé or listen to Grime. People would also assume I knew and or was related to every black person I stood next to because apparently, we’re all related.
I moved to a little town in West Yorkshire where I worked part time in a Wetherspoons – I had some of the most interesting encounters that I will never forget. I once had a customer ask if I knew a (black) friend of hers, her reasoning being we were both from London because of course we all have a homing system in us connecting us like one sentient being.
I was also hit on a lot, being one of the few black women in town, I was as rare as a Mewtwo playing card which came with a lot of unwelcome advances; I once had a guy hit on me by saying he had never slept with a black woman before, like that statement would part my legs like the Dead Sea and let him in – I had to laugh that one off and walk away.
Photo Credit: Kristina G.
Overall Dewsbury was a riot, one the most memorable times of my life but it did make me realise that I was not considered British like my White friends. During a shift at ‘Spoons a drunk patron asked me where I was from, which is innocent enough until he followed up my answer with that annoying question most people of colour (POC) are familiar with – No, where are you really from?
Again, I responded with London and he continued to ignore my answers and told me “I spoke English good considering…” I looked him dead in the eye and said well, I am from the capitol and its well, then walked off and took my break.
My whole life I have been told that I don’t act black, that is a statement that has plagued me my whole life. I would often find myself questioning my identity until I realised there was no specific way to black, we are all different.
People make assumptions about me because of how I talk, my interests and even who I am married to. In my experience people find it weird that I prefer to listen to The Smiths than Kanye because one is deemed to be white and the other black but that only perpetuates the old age adage of [INSERT STEREOTYPE HERE] and I do not want to be a walking caricature just to fit in, I’d rather be myself.
Identity is everything, it cannot be boxed and sorted like a child organising their toys. Identity is an individual experience, for instance I’ve always considered the UK my home so I identify as British and have always taken offence when that is questioned. Being black and British is having your identity questioned everyday – never truly belonging.
