Greek Cypriot | Guyanese
My identity influences my perspective on everything. I write a lot about my Black British identity to understand it better. It is a weird identity because Black people have influenced Britain’s culture so much yet we are constantly made to feel displaced.
My Mum is Greek Cypriot, and my Dad is Guyanese. Whenever I tell people I’m from Guyana they correct me and say do you mean Ghana, as if I wouldn’t know how to pronounce my own country. I am not very connected with my Guyanese side which is weird because I feel very connected with my Black identity. As a third generation Black Briton, I feel like we have created a collective identity. Although this is a good thing I do feel a bit sad that my Black identity comes from Britain rather than my home country. I am very close with my Greek family but I never feel fully a part of that side. I don’t look Greek and I don’t speak Greek, but I am planning to learn. I feel like until I learn the language I’m as close to my Greek identity as I possibly can be. This was a struggle when I was younger. I used to resent my Greek side because I felt only partially accepted because I was mixed-race.
I’ve been to Cyprus five times but never to Guyana. I wasn’t ever consciously trying to connect with my culture but my parents and Grandparents always instilled family traditions that taught me about my background. I’ve never met another person with my mix but I still feel connected to anybody who is mixed Black and White I’d say.
I was around like 13/14 when the term ‘lighty’ became a thing and it never sat well with me. I would always deny that label and wasn’t ever sure why. But then you look back at the Willie Lynch theory and other things like that and realise there’s a reason the label is uncomfortable.
If I had the opportunity to be reborn I would be scared to change anything because I want all the people who are currently in my life to stay in it. I’d say that I’d like to grow up without having to worry about money. That’s the only thing I’d change.
I think in the first lockdown I was trying to fill the space with productivity as I felt I wouldn’t get another opportunity with so much time again. I tried to create habits and write as much as I could. The next few months were tough though as I felt like my creativity and energy and inspiration had been used up. At the moment I’m just managing and have been focusing on university and waiting until we can go out again.
I find it hard to articulate my feelings in light of the global protest for racial equality. I felt angry, hopeless, guilty and emotionally exhausted. Seeing all the protests gave hope but also I thought in the back of my mind is this real or just performative. I think maybe hopelessness and guilt are maybe the strangest feelings I felt and I can’t really explain why. I felt guilt that I could eventually continue with my life, that eventually Instagram would go back to normal etc. I felt hopeless because, as a Black person, you live with the reality that who you are and how you are seen and treated is always different.