British | Sudanese
I’m a British atheist of mixed Afro-Arab with Muslim & Jewish heritage. I was born in London but brought up between the UK and the Middle Eastern country of Qatar. My Mum is a British-Jewish Geordie. My Dad is Sudanese. I joke that their unconventional pairing makes me ‘Jewdanese’. They met at university in London in the 1970s. They combined their cultures with mutual respect, an adventurous spirit and a great sense of humour. These are essential when you’re both the first in your family to ‘marry outside’ of your culture.
My maternal Grandmother refused to ever meet my Dad. Sadly she died before I was born, but I often wonder what she would’ve made of the multicultural grandchildren she never got the chance to meet. I think children change things. A few years ago I bought my Mum an online DNA test and the results revealed that her ancestry is 99% Ashkenazi Jew. It blows my mind that she’s probably the first in generations to have children with someone from a different culture. I asked my Dad to do the same test. But he said he doesn’t need to, because he knows where he’s from.
I was born and brought up in Britain but travelled to Sudan as both a child and adult. I think it’s problematic when people describe my Dad’s birthplace as my ‘native country’. My culture, identity and experience as someone of mixed heritage isn’t just a simple division of my parents’ countries of origin. Being of mixed heritage isn’t being half of anything. It’s something completely different. I think it’s really important that more people from backgrounds like mine hear that.
On the face of it, ‘interracial relationships’ are far more widely accepted now than they were in my parents day. But that’s not to say some of the same issues their generation faced aren’t still around today. I’ve met people my age who say they’d be disowned if they brought home a Muslim and/or Black partner. Coming from a background like mine, code-switching is something that comes as second nature. I’d struggle to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t implicitly understand that.
Growing up I thought everyone celebrated Christmas, Eid and Hanukkah. It wasn’t until I started school that I realised how unusual that actually was. Learning from a young age to always question the norm and never assume ‘that’s just how things are’ has made me more open to embracing new people, places and experiences. Plus celebrating all the major religious holidays means more presents, which is always a good thing!
Members of my extended family (on both sides) have said really offensive things in the past about Muslims and Jews. As someone with a foot in both camps I used to think it was my responsibility to explain why they were wrong. I now realise it’s not my job to educate anyone.
I’ve never worked anywhere that feels truly representative. Journalism is renowned for its lack of diversity. But it feels like social media is giving a platform to a range of voices that weren’t heard when I first started out, which is a great thing!