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THE REEDER 2020
#COMMUNITYFORLIFE
#BLM The outgoing School Captain and now OR of 2020 – Paul Brown – has been an exemplary leader of his peers since starting in The Close seven years ago. He has excelled academically (with a place secured at Durham University studying Engineering), represented the School at first-team level in key sports, spoken eloquently at many School events and simply epitomises our young cohort. As a complete aside, Paul also happens to be black and a former Foundation pupil. Why mention this? Because, he wanted us to. It sets the context for the poignant speech he gave to pupils about one of the key issues of 2020 – the Black Lives Matter campaign – which we wanted to share. The recent murder of George Floyd, and the protests that have ensued as a result of this atrocity, made me sit back and analyse what life has been like for me, a black kid, growing up and being educated in Surrey. I would like to share this with you as it’s often really easy for us – as British people – to focus on America and neglect the fact that sadly racism still exists here too. Living in a predominantly Caucasian neighbourhood meant that I was one of the few black people in my area, in my school, and in every activity I did growing up. And even though, for the majority of my life, the people I’ve encountered have treated me with respect from a young age, it was apparent that just because of my skin colour, people had already made preconceived judgments about my character. For as long as I can remember, it has been common for me to get asked questions like: ‘Why don’t you sound like a black person?’; ‘Why are you such a coconut?’; and, even, ‘Why do you act so white?’ At times, I managed to see some sort of humour in the naivety of these comments, other times I was made to feel like I was betraying my own cultural identity. Fortunately, my family had already instilled in me a strong racial identity. One that encouraged me to pursue everything I wanted,
irrespective of other people’s opinions – but I know that’s not the case for every black person. In hindsight, I regret that I let people speak to me that way and it angers me now that I allowed comments from people who didn’t understand my culture to make me feel disappointed in myself. The fact that I was asked these questions when I was as young as seven or eight years old shows the pervasiveness of racism in our country. I was often pressured by some of my peers to act a certain way, look a certain way, and even to talk a certain way, all of which were too overwhelming for a kid who just wanted to do what he enjoyed. In some instances, these comments led to me giving up activities and sometimes even changing my behaviours, just because I’d been fed the lie that people that looked like me weren’t supposed to do certain things or act in a certain way. It made me question whether I, as a black person, could have interests and passions that didn’t conform to the societal norm of my black predecessors. And that’s the danger of institutional racism, it’s subtle. It builds itself around stereotypes and, before you know it, you’ve been attributed certain characteristics just because of the colour of your skin. The whole reason for discriminatory behaviour (be that racist, xenophobic, chauvinistic,
that’s the danger of institutional racism, it’s subtle. It builds itself around stereotypes and, before you know it, you’ve been attributed certain characteristics just because of the colour of your skin.
