Rethinking the Language of Black Activism
If you've ever tuned in to impassioned black activists discussing the social issues ostensibly affecting the black community, you've likely observed the pervasive use of negative and ominous language. Phrases like “Black people are being hunted,” “There is a war on black bodies,” and “There’s no day off from being black” exemplify the type of rhetoric frequently employed when so-called black leaders or campaigners address members of their community.
How does constant exposure to rhetoric centred on victimhood and helplessness impact one's psychological well-being? This question warrants more in-depth research and investigation. A linguistically doom-filled approach often stirs deep existential fears and perceptions of danger that may not always align with reality.
The 2021 Race and Disparities report drew attention to the frequent misapplication of the term “racism,” highlighting that such misuse diluted its credibility and diminished the gravity of genuine instances of racism. Many, particularly on the progressive left, tend to use “institutional racism” too casually as an explanatory tool for disparities, often neglecting to consider other influential factors.
I reiterated this point during my appearance on "Antisocial," a BBC Radio 4 podcast that explores current social issues. Towards the end of the show, the conversation shifted to black maternal deaths and the existing disparities. In that segment, we listened to Professor Marian Knight discuss a study that examined the number of black mothers who die during childbirth or shortly after. I was then asked to share my thoughts.
I stressed that the existing disparities were undeniably real and deeply concerning. However, I also pointed out the potential harm of exclusively attributing all disparities and negative experiences to racism. We cannot underestimate the harmful impact that fear and mistrust can have on a woman during childbirth. And rhetoric that is excessively extreme and fatalistic contributes to such fear as it heightens apprehension rather than alleviates it.
When discussing maternal death disparities, are there additional contributing factors beyond racism? Will the reduction or cessation of racism be the answer, or might there be room for black women themselves to help close this gap too? For example, being overweight increases the risk of complications for both the mother and baby, and statistically, there are higher levels of obesity in the black population. Why are some statistics seen as important while others are treated as irrelevant to the conversation?
And, of course, one may default to blaming racism again for why black women are more likely to be obese than white women. Some may claim that black women don’t have access to healthy food, or some might even argue that dieting itself is racist. It seems to be an unwinnable fight.
Why are some statistics seen as important while others are treated as irrelevant to the conversation?
Black people typically have lower vitamin D levels compared to their white counterparts. Adequate vitamin D is vital for human health, especially for women going through pregnancy and childbirth. Due to having darker skin, black individuals need more sun exposure than those with lighter skin to produce the same amount of vitamin D. As a result, black women are at a much higher risk of vitamin D deficiency.
In other words, there are other factors that can impact outcomes beyond racial bias. Racist incidents certainly still occur; however painting an entire system as fundamentally against “people of colour” is often misleading, unhelpful and counterproductive. Promoting such a view not only misses the complexity of various issues but also breeds distrust and makes cooperation between individuals and institutions difficult, if not impossible.
More critically, it cultivates an antagonistic mindset among many black individuals, leading them to perpetuate cycles of self-fulfilling prophecies. This is especially true for those easily swayed by alarmist rhetoric and selectively presented statistics.
Below is a clip of my appearance on Antisocial; you can also listen to the full episode on BBC Sounds.
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Ada is the Head of Content at The Equiano Project.
Recently on The Equiano Project an article quoted the Bob and Marcia song 'Young, Gifted and Black'. I was going to mention this in passing and I wanted to check when the song was released (1970). I didn't realise that the song was co-written and recorded by the great Nina Simone and that it was a tribute to her friend the dramatist Lorraine Hansberry who died young, the line 'young, gifted and black' coming from one of Hansberry's plays.
That was incidental to what I was going to write, but it also illustrates what I was going to talk about; that we need to be wary of simplistic narratives. We can also remind younger people of the influence of Black American culture on black people throughout the world, even on Reggae music which is the quintessential Jamaican music (once disapproved of by respectable Jamaicans) which itself has had worldwide culture influence.
There is a danger that we will lose or have already lost the distinction between history, politics and propaganda. Simplistic narratives have their place as do slogans and rhetoric but we should not mistake these things for truth historical, scientific or otherwise.
'Young, Gifted and Black' is rhetoric, so is 'middle aged, middle class and mediocre' the latter have dominated 'black' politics for several decades now (some the same people who were younger then). With a Labour Government we will be seeing a lot more of this clique.
Some have expressed a wish to be raceless, this simply leaves the way open to the dominant clique to define race. We shouldn't seek to escape our blackness (this is unrealistic anyway) but to redefine it in a more generous, universal way.
If you see my black skin you might make assumptions about me. I was born and raised in South London, England, judging from my age you might deduce that I am of Caribbean heritage, and you would be right. But where I was born, where my parents come from, my age, these are biographical things. My blackness says something about me but not much.