Martin Luther King was from Atlanta, Georgia, not Lewisham, London. Why context matters.
*Trigger warnings: Enslavement, Slave Trade, Jim Crow
I was 18 years old when I found out that US Black History Month was actually in February, not October.
Black History Month was first celebrated in the USA in 1969, 20 years prior to its arrival in the UK. It was established by historian Carter G Woodson, founder of The Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, a group which aimed to challenge preconceptions at the time that 'the Negro has no history', and encourage greater research into, and preservation of, black history and culture. In February 1926, Woodson founded Negro History Week, which also coincided with the birthdays of former US President Abraham Lincoln and abolitionist Frederick Douglass. It was later decided that a week was not long enough and, against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement and the Black Power Movement, Black History Month was born in 1969.
Today, Black History Month remains a time in which iconic figures and pivotal moments through Black America’s history are remembered and celebrated. With the growing commercialisation of holidays, BHM in the US has also dipped into the TV and Media world, with many choosing to centre Black narratives or market their brands/businesses to celebrate their ‘black audiences’. Regardless of the manner in which the month is celebrated, many in the US have echoed our own sentiment at TBC, which is that Black history should not be relegated to a month, but rather acknowledged all year round, as an embedded component, and not a separate outlier, to our understanding of society. Indeed, our campaign to #TBH365 resonates not only with the way in which we celebrate BHM here in Britain, but can be applied to any attempts to separately perform tokenistic celebrations of marginalised voices.
For the majority of my school years, I had naturally assumed that the ‘Black History’ display boards which would pop up in the hallways every October were in solidarity with a global ‘Black History’. Why else would we dedicate a whole month to watching a documentary on the slave trade, or digesting a biopic of Martin Luther King’s life and death? Despite having sat through several years of Black History Month assemblies in October, it wasn’t until I reached Sixth Form that I found out that all the Black American history we were learning - in place of actual Black British history - should have actually been celebrated in February - and not in October.
*Flashback to that awkward moment where you realised that the Roots documentary would be the only depiction of Black people in a classroom setting*
Before shining light on Civil Rights America every October, we also got a glimpse of the slave trade, to give us some pre-Jim Crow context I imagine. An important factor to consider however, is the setting in which the context of Black histories was given (or in many cases, wasn’t given). Without the British context to accompany it, learning about Jim Crow America and the Civil Rights struggle felt out of place, as if all we could say was ‘wow, that was terrible’. Looking back, it was a strange, and quite cruel exercise to put on the ‘Roots’ documentary to a bunch of British kids who were not able to put such events into contexts relevant to their understanding of their own British history, or their place within its society.
Picture this:
The class is sat watching a documentary on enslavement in Year 8, or are ‘analysing’ images of enslaved peoples being physically abused on the plantations in Year 10. The non-black students sit there, rather uncomfortably, resisting the urge to turn around and catch the eye of their black mates, so as to non-verbally confirm that they’re still on good terms. The black students, also incredibly uncomfortable, aren’t sure of whether to sit still and keep their eyes on the screen/worksheet, or release themselves from having to watch generational trauma and dehumanising representations of an assumed collective ‘black people’. In a classroom where the origins of enslavement and its relationship with Britain has not been explicitly taught, all that is left is uncomfortable eye contact, and a football game at lunchtime to cool off and make sure everyone is still friends. They (might) then go on to learn about Jim Crow America or the Civil Rights Movements of the 20th century, and repeat the same string of words; I can’t believe the Americans did that to black people, racism is bad, or even, it’s a good thing this is Britain.
If we are to build a generation of youth who are engaged in their learning, think critically, and are committed to creating a cohesive and supportive society for all, their exposure to the history of race and Britain must be more than the Roots documentary, void of any meaningful context.
Contextualising, un-learning, and re-learning my Black British History.
As I matured through my education, I was able to reflect on my experience and how it shaped my understanding of society. It took me a while to realise that something was missing. Context.
What was missing from my whole learning experience, was the necessary context which would have allowed me to translate themes from US Black History, and view them through the lens of British history. For my A-Levels, I did a coursework module on Civil Rights America. I remember being really excited to learn about the plight of Black people (even if it was halfway across the world) in greater detail. I had so many key dates drilled into my head; Brown v Board of Education (1948), the case of the Little Rock Nine (1957), the Voting Rights Act (1965), and more. It wasn’t until I reached university that I realised something major. While I knew so much about African American history, I could tell you nothing about Black history here in Britain, other than Mary Seacole perhaps. Had I learned about the Montgomery Bus Boycotts of 1956 and related them to the Bristol Bus Boycotts of 1963, my understanding of racial struggle throughout history would have been a lot more nuanced. And while learning about the Harlem Renaissance and the rise of the Black Arts was beautiful, it would have been more meaningful had it been taught in the context of African and Caribbean migration patterns in Britain, and how these communities had meshed American Jazz and Soul with their own Afro-Caribbean contributions to create a distinctly Black British sound.
Black history was made to seem so distant. That the history of enslavement was so horrific it could only have occurred on the other side of the globe, on the hot and vast plantation fields, so unlike the green pastures of England. That the segregation laws in the Southern states were grave injustices which would have never occurred at the hands of ‘progressive’ Britain, the nation which had allegedly freed the enslaved and welcomed the commonwealth states with open arms. It seemed I had been robbed of an accurate, holistic education. More importantly, such negligence was dangerous in that it had the potential to warp the ways in which I would go on to view today’s state and society.
Our understanding of US Black History gives us at least some context as to what occurs in America today. Here in Britain however, we are left with questions met by an echoing silence. We are given no historical context to help make sense of our presence, nor our experience here today. When we remember the murder of Stephen Lawrence, we cannot use the ever-recycled BHM assembly on Martin Luther King’s ‘I have a Dream’ to make sense of it. We were not taught about British attempts to legislate a hostile environment through ‘sus’ laws in the 1980s. When buzzwords such as ‘gentrification’ arise, and we wonder why the racial composition of urban areas across the UK have always tended to ebb and flow, we cannot refresh our minds back to Rosa Parks’ life in segregated Alabama. We should instead, already have had the knowledge of Black British migration, settlement and hostile interactions with the state in mid-20th century Britain. Context, then is vital. I was born and raised here in Britain, therefore I live, and move and grow within a British context. This is why the embedding of Black British histories is so important for young people today. We must be able to provide them with a holistic education, with the necessary tools for them to enter an ever evolving world, armed with empowered identities and a sense of belonging.
This is all to say, while learning about US Black History, during what was meant to be a UK Black History Month (and curriculum), I was exposed to historical moments and processes which defined my understanding of a transnational ‘black experience’. While this still may be the case, I have since had to take a proactive approach to re-learning Black British history on my own. A learning experience which I hope will give me better clarity and context to the Black British experience today.
I believe we are all constant learners. Having graduated with a History degree and now working here at TBC does not mean I have ended my journey through education. In fact, it is a constant reminder that if I have managed to amass this much knowledge on my own thus far- imagine how much more there is still left to learn?
Learning is infinite. I leave you with a few books that are sitting on my current reads & wishlist at the moment, all of which are part of my journey to self-teach, unlearn and relearn my understanding of Black British History. I hope you all take the time to start this journey too.
Books:
Britain’s Black Past - Gretchen H. Gerzina & Others.
It’s a London Thing: How Rare Groove, Acid House and Jungle Remapped the City - Caspar Melville
Black and British: A Forgotten History - David Olusoga
The Lonely Londoners - Sam Selvon
