British | Jamaican
Photo credit: provided by subject
I identify as mixed-race, straight & non-religious. I have a Jamaican Father & a British White Mother. They lived in the same neighbourhood and met through friends. My Mother went to a Black school and grew up in a diverse area. She had many Black friends, she knew about Black music, Jamaican food and Black hair. My Father grew up in England, but his parents are from Jamaica and came during the wind rush. So he grew up with Jamaican and British culture. My culture doesn’t pay a part in how I choose friends or partners, I am open to meeting someone of another culture. My partner is actually Hispanic, from Peru. He speaks both Spanish and English. He came here when he was twelve years old.
I’m not ashamed to be myself. I’ll never hide my Blackness. It’s who I am! Interracial relationships are becoming more normalised compared to back then. Back then it was frowned upon. Now, you see interracial couples everywhere now, tv, media, books & music. Even the royal family with Harry and Megan. However, there is still a stigma I think that lies behind it. But it’s best to ignore ignorance and focus on being happy. You can please everyone. You may as well be happy.
Being told my hair type isn’t ‘the good gene’ by black friends in high school, because my hair is more afro textured than it is loose. It often made me feel sad and like I was unattractive. I was raised by my White side too and I know they love me, but you can feel like the odd one out. I’m used to blocking out that feeling though. I have never been to Jamaica, but I would love to in the future. Also, Puerto Rico and Cuba!
I do think my views on my heritage have changed growing up. I realised that I’ll die in this skin, I may as well just be proud of my heritage and be happy. It doesn’t matter about hair types or skin tones or eye colours. There shouldn’t be point scoring when it comes to being mixed and we should abandon living up to European beauty standards. I used to want to look like Christina Milian because her hair was looser, or Rashida Jones because she was lighter when I was a kid. They’re both mixed women, but they’re their mix. I’m mine and I’m proud.
My workplace is very modern and fresh luckily enough. I couldn’t bear working somewhere that will hold me back and put me in a bad space. Where I work is an office space for creatives and everyone is very respectful, very woke and sympathetic to Black issues. Well, not just Black issues but POC as a whole. Everyone respects each other and it’s a blessing to work in an amazing place.
If I had the opportunity to be reborn I would come back as an orca; they’re admirable, fierce and beautiful mammals. They’re the wolves of the ocean, at the top of the food chain. They speak in different languages, they’re very intelligent. Plus, they’re free to soar and travel. They come in packs, families and the females are matriarchs. Also, they’re Black and White just like me!
"I wrote a poem for the current situation regarding George Floyd and for the Black Lives Matter movement.
Black, brown and blue
Our ancestors can’t rest, while yours are safe in their graves. Not a shred of faith has been restored, since they were slaves.
The strangest fruit does not only hangs on trees, now it is planted below, trampled by a pair of knees.
With blood at the root, yet they complain and quarrel, if we loot. All while obeying the orders, to shoot.
Flags burn, fifty-one states in smoke, skin is bled, glass shatter, and tears shed.
Until the coming generation learn, then black and brown skin will not matter.
All while the monster in chief continues to provoke, leaving a nation divided in two, worn and broke.
A lesson is in this, so come closely, open your eyes, ears, but your mind mostly.
There has never been a race as weary. From bearing the invisible shackles on their ankles, a global disease revealing disgust at a darker face.
I never thought the shade of our skin would be the mourning cloak for our own racial grievance.
But until then, we remain the same hue, of black, brown and blue.