English | Jamaican/Antiguan
My Mum is English and my Dad is Black British (Jamaican and Antiguan) but born in the UK. They met in South London, close to Brixton while out and about, both already had young children. My Mum had my sisters from a previous marriage who were around 6 and 9, my Dad had my sister who was also 6. Whilst in a relationship they later found out that a live music club that my Mum used to go to on Friday nights in Balham, my Grandad (Dad's Father) also attended. They recognised each other from there, it's a small world! My parents separated when I was only two years old so I don't have any early memories of living with my Dad.
My Mum was not a frequent church attendee and my Dad's side of the family were very much immersed in Pentecostal church and Christianity. Although he didn't attend as often as other family members. I was raised to attend either the Church of England or Pentecostal Sunday schools and holiday clubs as a young child, although I found it odd that my parents did not frequent the church themselves. My Grandads on both sides got on really well, my Dad's Father a proud Jamaican who came here during the windrush immediately hit it off with my Mum's Father, a White British man who spent his early life in London. They were from the same generation so could relate. My Dad was very much accepted by my White side of the family and the same with my Mum on my Caribbean side. This has shown me that my parents would be accepting of my partner, no matter what their race and heritage is.
I was born and raised in South West London and co-parented by my separated parents there in my early life. I was aware from a young age that I was mixed-race, I think because at the time Lambeth and Battersea had the highest population of mixed-race people in the UK. Also my siblings (three sisters) were also mixed=race and had verbally expressed this to me.
I spent most weekends with my Dad and his side of the family. From an early age I remember favouring Jerk Chicken with Rice n Peas or Oxtail Stew over my Mum's Sunday roast, purely because it was more of a staple in my diet. I didn't get to learn as much as I'd have liked about Antigua and Jamaica from Grandma and Grandad's side purely because I didn't have the curiosity to ask about it as a child, but I knew that my grandparents had arrived here during the windrush and met in South West London.
Growing up in the same household as my Mum and sisters, felt more like a British upbringing but with us being mixed-race (living with our White Mother) but I'm grateful to have shared that collective experience with my siblings. My Mum brought us up on Motown, Rock 'n' Roll, Reggae and Ska so I felt educated in music of Black origin. I also took an interest in Black History in the UK and further a field and have tried to educate myself as much as I can on it, as really it is British history and shouldn't just be celebrated for one month. I also think it's amazing to see what's emerged from Black Britishness and wrote my postgraduate thesis on how grime music has shaped Black British identities.
When I was 7 we moved away from London to Northamptonshire where my Mum was from originally. I remember feeling like a minority as there was only one other family in the small town that had mixed-race children too, and they didn't even go to the same school as me. I was pretty much the only visibly mixed-race person in my primary school. As a kid I remember missing the diversity of South London, at school there we celebrated Hanukkah, Eid, Diwali and many other religious holidays.
As a teenager growing up in Northamptonshire I remember feeling othered, people would touch my hair, make racist jokes and microaggressions. I didn't feel like I was deemed attractive until my late teens because the majority of my male peers who were White didn't really want to be seen with me because it felt like they would stand out too much. I started to take an interest in grime music and UK rap and became particularly obsessed with Channel U. I remember seeing the music videos and listening closely to the lyrics as it depicted a teenage life in inner-city London that I missed out on. I felt like a part of my identity and culture had been stolen, I would have felt ‘normal’ and would have been able to celebrate being mixed-race in London but couldn't live in the countryside. Every time I visited my family or friends in London during school holidays I wondered how it would have been different if I'd got to experience being a young person there. Music was like therapy to me, and one of the only ways I could feel a sense of belonging and an escape from my everyday life. I think that's why I've wanted to be part of the music industry for so long. I found solace and identity within that art.
I think in today's society we all talk about race more and rightly so. I don't think children should be brought up to not see race or colour, instead our races, religions and cultures should all be spoken about, highlighted, and celebrated. I know that as a mixed-race person I am more ‘palatable’ in certain spaces which is wrong and I am aware of the privileges that my mixed heritage affords me. I've seen first hand the systemic racism that Black people face. I think that institutions could be doing a lot more to improve this. We do see that mixed-race people are more favoured on reality television and in fashion. I do still feel that the mixed-race experience isn't explored as much as it could be, however I do feel like there are authors, therapists and celebrities out there who are using their platform to talk about what it means to be mixed-race.
A personal challenge I have encountered is my appearance always being compared to other mixed-race and Black women. I've been told countless times that I look like Megan Markle, Jessica Ennis-Hill, Rihanna, Beyonce and many others. Examples of more everyday comparisons are things like being told I look like someone's boyfriends, sister's, cousin who also happens to be mixed-race and everytime there is a mixed-race woman on reality television, being likened to her. I understand that it doesn't come from malice by the people saying it, but I wouldn't say to a Black or White person that they look like a random celebrity to try to associate them with something. I think that I just look like myself. I think that it's an experience that a lot of mixed-race people can relate to especially.
Embrace being mixed-race, even if you're in an environment where you feel like it's either Black or White or Black and White. There are shades to it, and we need to continue our stories. I'd probably also encourage you to speak to your elders. I wish I'd spoken to my paternal Grandad more about his life while he was still living. Trace your family history if you can to find out more about how you came to be here. There are some incredible stories waiting to be told. Also don't feel like you're a passing trend or fashion statement, society and the media can't sell our identities or lived experiences to make money like they do with our appearances. Own what makes you unique.
As a teenager I didn't want to stand out as much and started to straighten my hair, as it felt as though my peers only complimented me when my hair was straight. I didn't feel like I could fully embrace my natural hair as people were always so intrigued by it and pestered me with questions. I have carried some of that uncomfortable feeling I would get of my hair being a talking point with me to adulthood. On reflection I should take more pride in it as it's a part of my identity.
Using dating apps in my early twenties meant that I experienced a string of the opposite sex referring to me as tropical or exotic when they asked about my heritage or background. This did make me feel exoticised or like they were looking for a trophy. Often people will ask me where I'm from and if I said London they would ask, ‘where are you really from?’. I feel like White and White presenting people don't encounter this.
A lot of people assume that I am Asian due to my features and straightened hair, and don't believe me when I tell them I am Caribbean. That has made me feel racially ambiguous at times. As well as encountering that people would stare at me for long periods of time in my late teens and early twenties trying to figure out my race. This has taught me to never assume someone's race, background or pronouns.
I admire those from the Black British African diaspora. Being African was not something celebrated in the UK until afrobeats, afroswing, Amapiano and other music genres were made popular. I admire the proud Africans who are able to unapologetically express themselves and their culture. It's been great to see Nigerian and Ghanaian culture at the forefront in the UK and see artists like Wizkid and Burna Boy sell out venues. Especially to see them perform in places like the Royal Albert Hall, considered the height of British culture, is amazing. Mixed Black Caribbean and White British creatives have a story to tell often from two perspectives.
I think that there is work to be done and conversations to be had about greater representation of mixed-race people within organisations and institutions. I find that some colleagues haven't always recognised that I am mixed-race or known how to broach topics of race. I feel as though a lot of companies are trying to hit diversity quotas. It's all well and good hiring people from diverse backgrounds but you have to ensure that the environment is a safeplace for them. Are they going to encounter everyday racism and microaggressions from the current workforce or have the company invested in solid diversity, equity and inclusion training and carried out lived experience research in order to help prevent this within their business?
I go to Notting Hill Carnival each year for the music, food and vibe. I know a lot of people attend for other reasons but for me it's about connecting with my Caribbean culture. I've visited Jamaica a couple of times and would like to spend more time there learning about the indigenous peoples, as well as finding out more about my Great-Grandmother; a mixed-race Jamaican woman born in the 1910s or 1920s. I recently traced my ancestry back to Nigeria as my ancestors who were enslaved Africans were sent to the Caribbean and settled there after slavery was abolished, this helped me feel closer to my sisters who are my half siblings and have a Nigerian Dad. It was also pretty interesting to tell the rest of my family about. On my Mum's side it traced back to London so no one can ever tell me that I'm not a real Londoner, after spending a lot of time growing up in the countryside. London is in my DNA!