Black Stories Matter

Written by Vanessa Addo

Stories are an intrinsic part of the human experience. Stories tie us together, with the power to grip us so tightly that they leave a mark, leaving us changed. Listening can be like holding up a mirror, forcing us to look at ourselves, bringing inspiration and encouragement. Therefore it's essential to able to see a reflection of ourselves in stories told.

Storytelling is a window into each other's lives, relationships, cultures and traditions. They help us celebrate, mourn, remember and learn about our past and present. 

But who is telling these stories and who gets to be the main character? Who are the people not having their stories told? Their lives adapted or erased entirely.

Our Past Matters

Last month Ireland celebrated Black History Month. It's a time of year that's important to me. A time I try to uncover something new about my heritage. With the newspaper articles and Instagram posts detailing aspects of black history starting to pop up, I noticed the same familiar narratives. I couldn't help but wonder; are there other stories out there? What history were we not taught? What parts of our past are kept hidden away from the world?

When diving into black history, it's impossible not to hear about the transatlantic slave trade, segregation and the civil rights movement in America. My entire education on black history in school centred around these events and while it's essential to learn about them, I realise now that so many stories of black people during this time aren't taught. 

For example, I never heard about the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921. My history teacher never talked about the prosperous Black-Owned Business District in Oklahoma and how it was burned to the ground by mobs of white residents. Our textbooks covered the familiar black activist's Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr and maybe a page about Malcolm X. But what happened to the stories of people such as Mary Church Terrell and Ida B Wells? History class failed to mention the black women who fought for black and other ethnic minority women to be able to vote, after being purposefully excluded from the Women's Suffrage movement. 

I knew nothing about our closest neighbour Britain's long black history. Speaking to friends and family living in the UK, we refer to racism as an American issue, and British History didn't include black folk. Last year while reading Reni Eddo-Loge's book ‘Why I'm no longer Talking to white people about race’, I learned more about the history of Britain's involvement in the transatlantic slave trade. I read about how my ancestors ended up in Jamaica, a result of British slave traders taking them from Africa to work on the plantations. Still, the powerful stories of courageous enslaved Jamaicans leading uprisings on their fight to freedom remain unheard. I discovered that Britain had a civil rights movement, with so many revolutionary events that are rarely spoken about; for instance, The Bristol Bus Boycott in 1963. Black activists like Roy Hackett brought their Caribbean community together to boycott the Bristol Bus company until they stopped refusing to hire black employees. His work, alongside many other black people and organisations, led to Britain being the first country in Europe to have anti-discrimination laws when it comes to employment and housing.

It's clear to see when it comes to learning the history of racism that black people faced; one finds it to be selective, often misrepresented or erased entirely. For too long when retelling these stories, we viewed them through the lens of the oppressor. But this was our story of freedom, that black people fought for and are still fighting for today. 

Black history is much more than just slavery and fight for civil rights. History continues to be whitewashed time and time again. The ancient Egyptian empire wasn't a white nation despite often being depicted as such in books and Movies. It was brown and black people who built the pyramids and who were the powerful pharaohs. Where are the stories about The Black Tudors in the Royal Courts of King Henry VIII and Elizabeth I? One in four cowboys were African American, yet not many of us know the tales of famous black cowboys like Nat Love and Bass Reeves the inspiration for the 'Lone Ranger'. It's common knowledge that Thomas Edison invented the lightbulb, but not without joining forces with the African-American renaissance man and inventor Lewis Latimer. Margot Lee Shetterly's 2016 book 'Hidden Figures: The Untold True Story of Four African-American Women Who Helped Launch Our Nation Into Space', details the forgotten stories of Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan and Mary Jackson. These brilliantly smart black women were a crucial component in the Space Race, and I had no idea. The 2015 film 'Stonewall’ when recounting the events of the Stonewall riots in 1969, erased the real people who were there. Black trans women like Marsha P Johnson and other queer people of colour were leaders in this pivotal movement in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights.

The experience of the black diaspora is not limited to the catastrophic repercussions of slavery. A genuine appreciation of our rich history can only take place when the stories of black empires, warriors, scientists, artists, leaders and pioneers are also heard and not ignored.

Our Present Matters

The echoes of our past still ring out today in 2020. The tragic victims of police brutality George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and countless others, ignited people from all over the globe into protesting systematic racism. 

While the incredible support for the Black Lives Matter movement was uplifting, there were more than a few sympathetic social media-posts from well-meaning allies, implying that blackness is a terrible burden to bear. Professor Imani Perry author of 'Breath: A Letter to My Sons' summarises it best, "Racism is terrible, blackness is not." Black people continue to face injustices. We want others to recognise our suffering, as well as recognise the fullness of what we have created for ourselves. Our blackness is beautiful, diverse, complex and alive. Now is the time to share stories that embody this.

What we consume shapes the way we see ourselves and others in the world. I was once a little girl who always had her head buried in a book—a teenager who adored theatre and coming of age films. I quickly realised, however, that people who looked like me had very few storylines. Growing up, I hardly got to see myself. Whether it was Disney movies, ‘Harry Potter’ or the gang in ‘Friends’, black people, particularly dark-skinned black girls, didn't seem to exist. The few times I did show up, I soon learned my place. I was the sidekick, the sassy advice-giving best friend, a slave crying as she is auctioned off to the highest bidder. Note to self; I'm not supposed to be the main character, and our only stories worth telling are the tales of struggle and oppression. It wasn't just me getting this memo. My white friends growing up alongside me received it too.

A few years ago, I attended a screening of the 2014 documentary film 'An American Accent'. This moving story follows a group of black climbers tackling North America's highest mountains. Climber Stephen Shobe said something that still resonates with me. "There is a certain percentage of people who look like me, who have also been told you can't go because of your colour."

This is why representation matters. When we don't see ourselves, it's sending us the message that we aren't capable, that the dream of climbing mountains is not one for black people. This could not be further from the truth. We have always been here. We are the blueprint and continue to build, transforming this world wherever we go. Things are starting to change; black people are telling their stories and making everyone listen. 

I was captivated by Zithelo Bobby Mthombeni engaging documentary 'This Land' as it explores Ireland's relationship with race, identity and immigration. It shares stories from Irish minorities including black artists, musicians and athletes. Irish-Nigerian poet and playwright Felicia Olusanya discusses her memories of direct provision, seeing the exciting benefits of multiculturalism in the creative space and the moments of inspiration that come from representing people who didn't even know they needed to see themselves. 

Black screenwriters such as Jordan Peele (Get out, Us ) and Ryan Kyle (Creed, The Black Panther) are bringing black stories on the big screen, into mainstream media. Steven Canals co-created and produced the critically acclaimed drama 'Pose', where we see the trials and triumphs of African American and Latinx LGBTQ+ ballroom culture in the 1980s.

British actress, screenwriter and director Michaela Cole had me laughing so hard watching her TV series 'Chewing Gum' and sobbing in 'I May Destroy you'. While I could recite episodes of 'That's So Raven' and stayed up late just to watch re-runs of 'Sister Sister', young black children today have so much more to choose from. 'Mama K's Team, Cousins for life, Black Lightning and Grownish', adds to a growing list of television shows with black lead characters. It warms my heart to know that black children get to grow up reading West-African inspired fantasy novels about magical black warriors like Tomi Adeyemi's 'Children of Blood and Bone.' I'm so happy black teenagers get to gush over love stories like Justin A Reynolds's 'Opposite of Always', and Kacen Callender's ‘This Is Kind of an Epic Love Story.'

We need to continue to educate ourselves on racism, and the systematic oppressive structures, (whether conscious or unconscious) that exist in the world. And its equally important to tell, read and watch stories about black people just living, navigating other aspects of their identity, creating friendships, falling in love, achieving their dreams. Magical stories about black folk, casting spells or uncovering hidden secrets. Tales of conquering a quest, saving the city or taking down a dystopian regime. When we see ourselves; when our children see themselves out there with the whole world looking, it permits us to dream; it gives us a sense of knowing we belong, that our lives truly do matter. 

Listen to black people when we tell our stories. Black people are not supporting characters, a diversity quota, a tragic plot point in the arc of humanity's time on this planet. Our stories are real, are important, our own, and they deserve to be celebrated and told as intended. 

Black Lives Matter.

Black Stories Matter.

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