Indigo 799

indigo

www.palatinate.org.uk

EDITORIAL

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Thursday, 2 November 2017

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F EATU R E S 3 It’s my culture, not a costume: Sanya Mathur addresses the issue of cultural appropriation F ASHI ON 4 Black Models Matter: Divya Shastri argues that the fashion industry is still unable to cater for diversity 5 Changing the face of fashion F IL M & TV 6 Systemic racism in Hollywood: is black representation in decline?

M U SI C 7 A review of Kendrick Lamar’s latest album, Damn.

BOOKS 8 Why has Harper Lee’s novel, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ been banned by a school in America?

9 Blurring the lines in Othello: the first black actor to play Iago A review of June Sarpong’s talk, ‘Diversify’ V I S UAL AR TS 10 CAKE MAN: More than a critique of Empire?

F O O D & DR I N K 11 A who’s who of celebrity chefs to celebrate diversity in the food industry

CREATIVE WRITING

12 & 13 ‘Zebras’ - a story about identity by Jontin Oluyemi Cooper TR AV E L 14 ‘Poverty porn’ and ‘beg-packing’: colonial etiquette in developing countries Tourists must respect aboriginal communities S TAG E 15 Can theatre liberate the oppressed?

Martin Docherty discusses the potential of musical theatre to subvert tropes and stereotypes INTERVIEW 16 Ryan Robinson Perinchief: president of the Durham People of Colour Association

Cover Illustration by Katie Butler

s part of their Black History Month line up, the Durham People of Colour Association (DPOCA) hosted the panel discussion – ‘Blanel: The Blackness in Black History’. The guest speakers were Ms Tina Simbo, community and youth work practitioner with an ardent interest in pan Africanism, and Dr Se-Shauna Wheatle, educator in Caribbean law.

It was a powerful evening of inquiry - communicating the importance of Black History Month, the evolution of racial discrimination and the need to diversify perspectives in order to understand different experiences.

Both Ms Tina Simbo and Dr Se-Shauna Wheatle spoke movingly about “transforming the ways of imparting knowledge” and their fundamental desire for “cultural fusion”.

This edition of Indigo aims to broadcast voices that are usually marginalised within Durham’s student body. The following pages discuss POC issues, giving rise to a multitude of voices which explore the full range of human experience.

Features’ opinion piece on cultural appropriation considers the point at which these Euro-American and Black narratives meet. Fashion explores how its industry urgently needs to change its backwards attitude towards diversity.

Travel argues that tourism in developing countries continues to bear the marks of Western colonialism and Meghan Hosch discusses the ways in which black representation is declining in Hollywood for Film and TV.

Indigo further interviews Ryan Robinson Perinchief, president of DPOCA. In conversation Ryan builds upon his society’s desire to educate students and “facilitate greater racial dialogue and awareness on campus”.

I hope that this issue of Indigo will serve not only as a tribute to oppressed and under-represented views but that it will set the precedent for broader and more permanent representation across the board in Palatinate.

Dialogues are necessarily interactive, spaces in which multiple voices coexist, respond to and engage with one another. Let us start the conversations. After all, Ms Tina Simbo and Dr Se-Shauna Wheatle argued, all history is “human history”.

IND IGO E D ITO R S Tamsin Bracher Adele Cooke (deputy) FE A TUR E S E D ITO R S Divya Shastri Katie Anderson (deputy)

CREATIVE WRITING EDITORS Chloe Uwitonze Scaling Kleopatra Olympiou (deputy) S TA GE E D ITO R S Helena Snider Helen Chatterton (deputy) V IS UA L A R TS E D ITO R Madeleine Cater BO O KS E D ITO R Julia Atherley Tanvi Pahwa (deputy) FA S H IO N E D ITO R S Anna Gibbs Emma Denison (deputy) FO O D & D R INK E D ITO R S Emma Taylor Sapphire Demirsöz (deputy) TR A V E L E D ITO R Harriet Willis FIL M & TV E D ITO R S Meghan Hosch Imogen Kaufman M US IC E D ITO R S Tom Watling Ashleigh Goodall (deputy)

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Have a question, comment, or an idea for a story you’d like to write?

Email indigo@palatinate.org.uk to get in touch.

FEATURES Thursday, 2 November 2017

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It’s my culture, not a costume Features talks racial politics and cultural appropriation in 2017

By Sanya Mathur features@palatinate.org.uk

black culture despite having an African American brother-in-law and ex-husband.

ultural appropriation is the term given to the act of borrowing from a culture that is not one’s own. This can include copying language, fashion, customs, or religion. The nature of discussion around this topic is particularly controversial where on one side, minority and ethnic groups find their

What makes it worse is that people of African origin are discriminated against for daring to display their cultural heritage. Women who inspired the ‘baddie’ aesthetic are called ‘ghetto’, and such behaviour isn’t only towards non celebrities. For instance, when singer-actress, Zendaya was criticised for wearing dreadlocks to an award show; apparently she look as if ‘she smells like…weed’. It goes so far as Rihanna wearing a dress in her music video

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cultures inappropriately appropriated, while on the other hand, many argue that this is an ‘era of oversensitivity’. The fact that it has just been Black History Month makes the topic arguably more relevant as this culture has seen a majority of adoption into pop(ular) culture, offensive or not.

Whether it is the controversy around ethnic hairstyle – like Kylie Jenner’s cornrows, or Miley Cyrus’ dreadlocks, or borrowing from hip hop, as done by Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake, or even something like the meme ‘Cash me outside how bow dah’, they all highlight how people shamelessly borrow from the ‘Black’ culture to seem ‘cool’, often without acknowledging its roots or cultural significance. We see ‘baddie aesthetics’ taken from African-American culture deemed as ‘cool’ and ‘edgy’ on Kendall Jenner.

We see Khloe Kardashian sporting bantu knots and calling herself ‘Bantu Babe’, appropriating

and being called over-sexualized.

Cultural appropriation isn’t restricted to borrowing only from Black culture. Other minorities like Latinos, Indians, Native Indians and Asians find that their cultural heritage is misused to appear ‘cool’, ‘edgy’, ‘trendy’ or worse, for the sake of hilarity.

Recent examples of offensive cultural appropriation include, but are unfortunately not limited to, the repeated use of the ‘bindi’ by artists such as Selena Gomez, Madonna and Gwen Stefani; the ‘colour run’ – a non-religious version of the Hindu festival of Holi; the borrowing of hoop earrings from the Chola culture; as well as the use of the Native American headdress as an accessory for a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

Appropriation, I agree, may not always be offensive, especially when done respectfully and with a full regard for culture that one is borrowing from.

More often than not, it is not intended to be offensive. Unfortunately however, people are not always tactful. Minority groups may often appear to be oversensitive but this is a reflection of the constant marginalization and denigration that they have had to face. While they, as minorities, are forced to ‘turn down’ their otherness, their cultures are continuously utilized to seem ‘trendy’ or ‘global’, especially with partial or no knowledge of their deeply held convictions.

Borrowing from an indigenous culture that you appreciate does not immediately make it wrong but

how does one know when one is being offensive?

Where can one draw the line between appreciation and offensive appropriation?

In his article ‘Profound Offense and Cultural Appropriation’, James Young states that cultural appropriation is something that “may [...] be offensive even when a member of the offended community does not witness it.” It requires one to be well aware of the context in which they seek to portray a certain cultural inheritance.

So hopefully this Halloween, dreadlocks won’t be used as a costume or durags as a fashion statement. Try and understand the struggle that people have gone through to validate their culture, rather than dismiss it.

Honestly, its 2017, can’t we learn to be a little more inclusive?

Illustration by Faye Chua

FASHION 4

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Black Models Matter Fashion explores why imminent changes to the fashion industry concerning the appropriation of black culture are long overdue

By Divya Shastri fashion@palatinate.org.uk

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n spite of the incredible successes of models such as Tyra Banks, Iman, Naomi Campbell and Jordan Dunn, the fashion industry is still unable to cater to the needs of black models. Recently at Paris Fashion Week, model Londone Myers called out stylists in a now viral Instagram post for not being able to work with her natural hair. In a time lapse video, Myers is shown waiting to get her hair done while the white models around her are all being tended to. According to Myers, who has walked for high fashion brands like Dior and Prada, the stylists were avoiding doing her hair. Myers stated she shouldn’t go down the runway with a “linty busted ass afro” and that if this were to happen to a white model the stylist would have been fired.

A similar story was posted to Instagram in 2015

by South Sudanese model Nykhor Paul. The post detailed how makeup artists did not know how to work with models of darker complexions. In her letter Paul detailed many brands that do carry products for her “blue black complexion” asserting that “there are so many options for darker skin tones”. But still she was made to bring her own products to the show, unlike any of the other models. Similarly to Myers, Paul stated “Just because you only book a few of us doesn’t mean you have the right to make us look ratchet”.

Clearly there is an issue when you don’t cater to black models yet simultaneously take from their culture

In Gucci’s show at Milan Fashion week only 17 models of colour walked the runway out of 119 models

The fashion industry is still unable to cater to the needs of black models Indi Irvin, a U.K based Model, protested at Paris Fashion Week with MSA models outside the Balenciaga show holding up a sign that translated to “ Black Models Matter”. In addition to her protest in Paris, Irvin pointed out that in Gucci’s show at Milan Fashion week only 17 models of colour walked the runway out of 119 models.

Models such as Leomie Anderson have also drawn attention to these issues. Anderson did not shy away from discussing the issue when taking to Twitter in September, talking about how she went for an 8:40 am fitting along with six other white girls, watched them get selected and was told to go home along with a tanned Brazilian model, after a mixed-race girl with curly hair was selected to “fill the quota”. According to The Daily Mail, she talked about it on BBC’s ‘Women’s Hour’, mentioning that she is speaking up now to “stand up for the other young girls who are coming up in the industry”. She also recounted being a young model and dealing with issues such as stylists being unwilling to do her hair and having ashy makeup.

Yet, despite all these problems, there seems to be no issue when designers take from black culture while leaving black individuals behind. This was seen in Marc Jacobs’ 2016 New York Fashion Week show

There seems to be no issue when designers take from black culture while leaving black individuals behind Illustration: Katie Butler

when Jacobs used faux locks in his Ready to Wear show, appropriating black aesthetics for the second time after having had models in 2015 wear Bantu knots, which were stylized as ‘mini buns’. Fashion house Gucci came under attack this May for copying African American designer Dapper Dan’s designs in their menswear show -a Harlem designer who responded to high end brands rejecting to send stock to his store by creating his own versions of their labels. In May 2017 Valentino had a collection “inspired by wild, tribal Africa” which featured animal prints modelled mainly by white women (only 8 of the 87 models were black) who wore cornrows.

Clearly there is an issue when you don’t cater to black models yet simultaneously take from their cul-

ture. One might have been able to excuse such behaviour if a majority of the models in the shows were black. But since they aren’t, it looks as if they are being told that even aspects of their own culture look better on other races.

Makeup artists did not know how to work with models of darker complexions This isn’t to negate the changes that have occurred in the fashion industry, but to bring to light important issues and to make sure that change is brought about.

Hopefully we will continue to see growth occur in the industry, and inclusivity will no longer be a rarity but the norm.

FASHION Thursday, 2 November 2017

SANELE JUNIOR XABA, BY JULIA READING A model for Adidas and GQ, Xaba was born in a township just outside Durban, South Africa in 1994; a particularly symbolic year as it marked the transition from Apartheid South Africa into democracy. However, Sanele faced still faced astonishing discrimination and persecution for having albinism. In an interview with ‘The Observer’, Sanele described the confusion surrounding his identity in the township; spiritual leaders labelling him the ghost of ex-slave masters. Eventually his mother decided to leave after he was called an “umhlope” (white man), and brutally attacked as a child. Growing up Sanele experimented with using fake tans or bronzer in a desperate attempt to darken his skin, however he now models his looks with pride whilst fighting for diversity within his trade. Today the commercial end of fashion still plays a huge role in dictating the latest trends, and Sanele is working to break the mould of male modeling.

Amongst his thousands of Instagram followers are teens struggling to come to terms with their albinism, and his modeling is helping challenge the stereotypes surrounding the condition. Xaba also works with charities such as ‘Inside The Same’ that breaches these social issues, By leaving his footprint on the industry, he can encourage people not to be “enslaved by the colour of their skin.”

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Changing the face of Fashion ...

NAOMI CAMPBELL, BY DANIELLE CUAYCONG Born in Streatham, South London, Campbell is of Afro-Jamaican descent, as well as Chinese Jamaican ancestry. Scouted by the head of Synchro Model Agency at the age of seven, it wasn’t long until her modelling and catwalk career took off. By the late 1980’s Campbell hadgaining widespread, international recognition.

Over the years, Campbell experienced racial discrimination, despite being named ‘Supermodel of them all’ by Interview Magazine in the 1990’s. Many magazine editorial boards and designers refused to cast her, with ideal beauty standards still being confined to those with white skin. It went so far as to French Vogue denying her placement on their cover until designer Yves Saint Laurent threatening to withdraw his advertising from the magazine until they did so; in August 1988, Campbell became the first black model to grace the cover. She was also the first black model to appear on the cover of American Vogue’s highly-publicised September issue which draws the most readers and advertising. In any interview or public appearance the supermodel makes, she makes it a point to talk about race and her place in an industry that was quick in its attempt to reject her. Speaking to Elle magazine, the vocal supermodel says, ‘It’s the skin we’re born with and will spend the rest of our lives with until we leave [the Earth]’. Do not give up or give in. Speak your truth and take action on it.’

She is undeniably one of the most famous black model’s in the world, yet makes less than any of her white colleagues – a fact which she has publicised.

Campbell supports the movement to diversify the industry with staunch dedication: involvement in the advocacy group, Diversity Coalition; campaining to rid the business of racial bias and developing the idea to create an agency for coloured models. Campbell’s assertive nature (a notable source of controversy in the media) is her greatest asset in the what she supports.

image by Harry Sach, Flickr via creative commons

KANYE WEST, BY ZACK OKE Kanye West single handedly, especially for me, changed what it meant to be a black male. As a black male, many of us are under pressure to look a certain way, talk a certain way and have specific interests. In other words, fall right into a predetermined box of how we’re supposed to live. When Kanye West transitioned into the fashion world to intern at Fendi in 2009, that was him putting a big middle finger up to these perceptions. At the time, it wasn’t cool to be black and interested in fashion, or if you were interested in fashion it had to be a certain type. Kanye’s courage to unapologetically be himself and stick the two fingers up to this perception and go into fashion, finally made it cool to delve into a creative career.

In my opinion, without Kanye West, it seems highly unlikely that we would have the involvement that we have today of black males in fashion. Whilst being polarizing, it is difficult to deny Kanye West’s direct influence in allowing the fashion world to take a designer like Virgil Abloh seriously. Kanye was the martyr who jumped in front of all the bullets when he made a transition from music to fashion; a lot of people didn’t take him seriously and argued that the fashion industry was no place for a man like him. But since this bold move by Kanye, more and more black males around the world are attempting to make a creative career for themselves.

image by Jason Persse, flickr via creative commons

FILM & TV 6

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Systemic racism in Hollywood Film & TV argues that black representation is rapidly declining in comedic television ...

By Meghan Hosch Film & TV Editor film@palatinate.org.uk

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lthough the year 2020 is just around the corner, Western culture appears to resemble a watered down version of the 90’s. From clothes to music to television, it seems that white Hollywood has capitalised on and progressively gentrified black culture to the point of no recognition. What made Family Matters, Sister Sister, and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air so entertaining was the fresh perspective, its positive portrayals of black individuals.

Somehow in the last few decades white Hollywood has forgotten why these shows are so important. In the midst of police brutality washing the news with blood and fear of stepping outside of one’s door, there is safety and escape in happy black families and their wacky adventures.

The horrors lying outside of black families’ homes hasn’t changed, but the positive escapism of black television has – and that’s truly terrifying.

When recollecting 90’s nostalgia, black adults could count on two hands all of the iconic shows that featured black characters. Now, the only show that can even endeavour to compare to the golden age of black sitcoms is the Golden Globe awardwinning show, black-ish.

White Hollywood has progressively gentrified black culture to the point of no recognition This month, black-ish has blessed Black History Month with its fourth season. Oppressors call the show ‘racist’ since it addresses the systemic violence many black people face on a daily basis while still having the ‘audacity’ to show black people as multidimensional human beings. For those of you who have not yet been made aware of this acclaimed television show, it’s a modern-day sitcom worthy of its 90’s predecessors. The premise surrounds a nuclear black family living a white-collared life in a white-

dominated neighbourhood.

One comedy discussing the plight of black people should not be the exception but the norm The parents, Anthony Anderson and Tracee Ellis Ross, both attempt to emphasise black power and instil pride in their children while they are surrounded by a culture designed to stamp out evidence of blackness one micro aggression at a time.

of the aspirations of the American Dream and the depressing reality that actually comes with it for a minority.

In the past few decades, Western civilisation has moved forward – Hollywood, unfortunately, has not.

The only conclusion to draw from seeing humanistic black representation rapidly decline in comedic television is that black Americans are still largely barred by systemic racism and oppression from being able to share their voices. Furthermore, it seems that mainstream media has found the black voice to be so threatening that even in a light-hearted sense they must not show their face or their opinion in a significant portion. Having only one comedy acknowledge these difficult topics allows white Americans to merely change the channel if they are uncomfortable.

Black Americans are still largely barred by systemic racism and oppression from being able to share their voices in comedic television

The show evokes images of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in highlighting this struggle as well as attempting to cover topics surrounding systemic racism while still managing to be comedic and palatable for a mainstream audience.

Despite the good work of black-ish in determining what it means to be a minority in what is supposedly a post-racial America, it is arguable that it shouldn’t have to do this. Most comedic sitcoms present today explore the daily issues and concerns of white middle-class people and manage to steer clear of any sort of indication of the tension in America’s present political climate. For a country that is supposedly proud of its ‘melting pot’ diversity and its ‘freedom’ in politics, Hollywood seems to be very ashamed of the realities of what America is like for someone that does not fit a Brady Bunch persona. One comedy discussing the plight of black people by black people with diversity and depth should not be the exception, but the norm. I argue that black-ish is a true unfiltered representation

However, the emergence and the resounding success of black-ish gives us hope for Hollywood’s future. A future beyond being the token friend in the group or the extra in the backdrop of the white characters’ scenes. The fact that blackish has made it to Season 4 and has made the waves it has – upsetting those complicit in black erasure in entertainment – shows that there is potential to grow from there and reclaim what black Americans once had in the 90’s. Besides reclaiming a share in the air-time for comedy on television, it is hopeful that one day a show portraying a black family will not be unusual, but even be a been-there-done-that trope. Even more so, I am hopeful that one day racial minorities are not obligated to protest and assert their humanity in any media available to them.

True equality will emerge when black Americans have their share of television and can use it to delight in their culture and their daily lives without constantly trying to convince the white audience that they are human.

Image by Sara Zidan via Flickr

MUSIC 7

Thursday, 2 November 2017

“Lately, it’s all contradiction”

Music reviews Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Damn.’, an album determined by a strong sense of internal conflict

By Mitch Kroener music@palatinate.org.uk

with some apparent struggle over its implications – in a larger sense, it touches on questions of fatalism and self-determination that run through the album.

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apper Kendrick Lamar has, in recent years, achieved a rare level of success, encompassing both mainstream popularity and critical accolades for his innovative approach. With the release of his new album, Damn., Lamar has managed to further complicate his already multifaceted identity as an artist, performer, prophet, hypocrite, extrovert, recluse, American, black man, Israelite, sinner, and human being.

Damn., which dropped in April following the release of the lead single ‘Humble’, follows the massive success of 2015’s To Pimp a Butterfly, an album that charted five singles on the Billboard top 100, held virtually every number one spot on major music publications best of 2015 lists and produced an anthem of political and cultural solidarity for the Black Lives Matter movement in the form of ‘Alright’, which President Obama named his favourite song of the year. Butterfly marked the apotheosis of an era of cultural awakening around issues of racial identity, intersectionality, and systematic oppression through powerful, unabashedly political lyrics, and an eclectic pallet of free jazz, old school hip hop, funk, and spoken word, all bound together in a painstakingly accessible and danceable package.

Lamar’s unique status as an artistic innovator allows him to experiment with an album’s longer narrative arch In contrast to the intense focus on the contemporary moment embodied by Butterfly, with Damn., Lamar shifts his focus towards a view of time that emphasizes the non-linear, the cyclical, and the spiritual transcendence of time altogether.

In an era when the individual song has largely supplanted the album as the salient unit of musical consumption, Lamar’s unique status as both artistic innovator and massive popular success has allowed him to continue experimenting with the longer narrative arch that the album allows.

Lamar has revealed in interviews that the absence of God in contemporary culture served as a central inspiration for the album. While religion plays a central role in the narrative, the questions of spirituality, hedonism, damnation and exultation that Lamar undertakes all spring from an overarching notion of internal conflict

and ambivalence. On ‘Lust’, Lamar intones: “Lately, it’s all contradiction”, and this seems to serve as a guiding principle for analyzing Damn.

We see Lamar revel in his success and boast of his talent on tracks like ‘Pride’ and ‘DNA’, while admonishing himself and others to avoid pride and gluttony in ‘Lust’ and ‘Humble’. This conflict over the seduction of sin and the imperative to righteousness harkens back to the album’s opening, when a chorus of singers ask, ‘is it wickedness? Is it weakness? You decide’.

As with earlier albums, Lamar remains deeply interested in the boundaries and intersections between personal experience and the collective cultural understanding. On the disillusioned and remote ‘Feel’, Lamar explores the ways in which his fame and wealth have isolated him from his community and love ones, engendering a feeling of distrust and indifference towards the world around him. However, this isolation is contrasted with powerful declarations of emotional connection on ‘Loyalty’ and ‘Love’.

Lamar remains deeply interested in the boundaries between personal experience and collective cultural understanding Perhaps the most troubling moments in Damn come from Lamar’s exploration of the Hebrew Israelites, a movement that identifies Blacks, Latinos, and Native Americans as true descendants of the Israelites. In a voicemail that he samples in ‘Yah’, Lamar’s cousin Carl quotes biblical scripture to support the notion that the pain and suffering of these communities stems from a divine curse levied against them for worshiping other Gods, and which shall not be lifted until their total faith is restored. While Lamar reflects on this view –

While Lamar never wholly rejects this Biblical prophesy of damnation on the album, Damn’s denouement, ‘Duckworth’, hints at the possibility of overcoming – if only at an individual level – the cycle of poverty, violence, and oppression that plagues his community. This is Lamar at his best: an energetic, incisive, and deeply empathic story teller. ‘Duckworth’ takes its name from Lamar’s father, Kenny « Ducky » Duckworth, and follows the story of young Compton drug dealer, Anthony, hustling on the streets of Los Angeles during the crack epidemic, plagued by threats of gang violence and police brutality. The parallel narrative follows Duckworth, a young father working at Kentucky Fried Chicken, trying to save for his family.

Ultimately, the small kindnesses that Ducky has shown Anthony in the past influence Anthony not to shoot him while robbing the KFC. The identity of the characters is withheld until the songs final moments when Lamar reveals that Ducky is his father and Anthony went on to become Top Dawg, his record label’s president.

In the final moments of the song, ‘Duckworth’, Lamar manages to reckon with, if not resolve, nearly all of the album’s internal conflicts The final resolution to the song offers a hopeful sign of a remedy for the aforementioned curse and the cycles of violence, poverty, degradation, and incarceration. While this solution is not systematic but individual, it is nonetheless potent: ‘You take two strangers and put ‘em in random predicaments. Give ‘em a soul so they can make their own choices and live with it.’ While turning away from divine wrath and vengeance, Lamar maintains a focus on spirituality here, shifting to the qualities of grace and mercy.

In the final moments of this song, Lamar manages to reckon with, if not resolve, nearly all of the album’s internal conflicts in only a few lines. While our lives are deeply impacted by the circumstances into which we come into being, the moral decisions we choose have tangible meaning.

Just as the injustices and inequities of the past accrue and reverberate down through generations, so too can acts of exceptional humanity and grace cause a kind of ripple in the wake of fate that spreads outwards over time to distant shores, changing the trajectory of entire lives.

Image by Kenny Sun via Flickr

BOOKS 8

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Why is To Kill a Mockingbird still controversial?

Books reacts to the news that Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird has been banned by a school in America and examines the ability of the novel to unsettle the reader

By Rhianna Cameron

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o Kill a Mockingbird is a classic book, with many students globally reading the book during their time at school. However, Harper Lee’s 1960 novel has been removed from the reading list of an American school. This came after complaints were made by students over the language used within the book and how it made them uncomfortable.

Literature is a great tool for making people empathise with others daughter Scout how to empathise with others. This was also what Lee wanted the reader to do with people in their everyday life. Just as At-

thise with others. It enables people to stand from outside themselves and begin to see things from a different perspective. It shows us a side of the world to which many people have been ignorant.

People are unaware of the oppression faced by different sections of society if it doesn’t affect them. Literature is able to shine a light and educate people without them being aware.

The relevance of a 57-year-old book in today’s society is quite remarkable. The social injustices still faced by African Americans are still very much prevalent.

Racial tensions in the Southern US states seem to be worsening. This was highlighted by the events in Charlottesville in August when white supremacist groups were demonstrating. A young woman died at the protest. The Black Lives Matter campaign has gained momentum as police brutality is an all too frequent news story. It is clear that racial injustices are still deeply engrained in our modern society.

But is it the role of literature to provoke thought and social change? At its simplest form, literature is just an art form and should be admired as such.

However, art also has the ability to bring about social change as it can challenge a reader’s inherent beliefs.

It is clear that racial injustices are still deeply engrained in our modern society Lee began writing the novel after the bus boycott in Montgomery in 1956, an event which helped to launch the civil rights movement in America. Her main aim for the novel was to highlight the racial and social injustices faced by African Americans within America both historically and at the time of writing.

Throughout the book Atticus teaches his

ticus tells Scout, Lee is telling the reader that to

But is it the role of literature to provoke thought and social change? really understand other people they should imagine themselves walking in the other person’s shoes Literature is great tool for making people empa-

A novel at its finest can make us question why things are as they are An author has the capability of creating a relationship between the reader and characters which can then be used to question the entrenched thoughts that the reader may have unconsciously about society. Literature represents the society we live in. A novel at its finest can make us question why things are as they are. Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird has and will continue to do just that.

Illustration by Faye Chua

BOOKS Thursday, 2 November 2017

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Blurring the lines in Othello

Books looks at the RSC’s 2015 production of Othello which featured the first black actor to play Iago.

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By Francis Sinclair he RSC’s production of Othello, which cast British-Tanzanian actor Lucian Msamati as Iago, was largely praised as a tremendous success. The justification of the praise largely noted that casting a black Iago removed race as a motivation for the antagonist’s hatred of Othello, thereby provoking a new perspective on Shakespeare’s artful misanthrope.

As the play progresses, we see Othello suffer under the crippling insecurity which inevitably rises from his minority position and interracial marriage within a racist high society. Iago aggravates this insecurity.

But a black Iago does not only secure Othello’s credibility as a character. It also portrays Iago as fouler than ever before. To manipulate and subsequently destroy Othello by tormenting him with insecurities stemming from the very racial minority of which he is a part is tantalisingly scandalous. More disturbingly still, we hear the vilest racially charged words emanating from Iago himself, including the depraved words to Brabantio, “even now, now, very now, an old black ram / Is tupping your white ewe.” But far from undermining Msamati’s Iago, such remarks add to the barbarity of his character: Iago, in intense perversity, becomes a man willing to indulge in a graphic hypocrisy of prejudice.

This aim to shift focus away from the racist concerns of the play are consistent with other modern performances of Othello, as in Adrian Lester’s modern-dress production where the colour of Othello’s skin is largely ignored. Given Iago’s references to the adulterous relationship he imagines between his wife and his military superior - Iago spits “nothing can or shall content my soul / Till I am evened with him wife for wife” – it is unlikely that race was ever a motive in his heinous acts.

It is remarkable how an ostensibly implausible character shift can dramatically alter the tone of the play Rather, it seems that the primary consequence of Msamati’s role is that both Othello and Iago become equally susceptible to the racism of a white Venice.

By Melissa Nyambayo

More disturbingly still, we hear the vilest racially charged words emanating from Iago himself

In this light, the effects of Msamati’s casting are more evident. As the only other black man in influential Venice, he inevitably holds a position of trust with his superior and an implicit understanding of Othello’s hardship; a powerful combination which gives Iago perfect leverage over Othello. Msamati’s Iago thus works to counter a popular criticism of Othello: Why did the protagonist never suspect his unfaithful ensign? Responses deemed unsatisfactory refer to Othello’s trustful nature, and the pair’s closeness arising from their military endeavours. This third element, of a common victimhood, grants more substance to the case.

It is remarkable how an ostensibly implausible character shift can dramatically alter the tone of the play. It is sometimes difficult to see an experimental tweak such as this as anything other than a mindless alteration, a revision for the sake of a revision; Jude Kelly’s “photonegative” production of a white Othello in Africa, for example. The RSC’s production, however, avoids such misconduct, and rather provides a provocative twist in Shakespeare’s tragedy of resent.

Image: Othello at the Globe, Amit Lennon via Flickr

June Sarpong’s Diversify

J

une Sarpong, author and broadcaster, took to Durham Book Festival last week to talk about her debut novel Diversify. In this empowering call to arms, Sarpong tackles the question of whether it is possible to live without prejudice.

In each chapter she puts the spotlight on groups who are often marginalised in our society, including women, those living with disabilities, and the LGBTQ community.

In this empoweing call to arms, Sarpong tackles the question of whether it is possible to live without prejudice Drawing on new case studies and never-before published research from Oxford University, Diversify is an empowering guide to navigating life in a new way. Alongside these inspiring stories, Sarpong

gives just six exercises that we can all use as the first steps to beating social division and overcoming our personal prejudices.

Speaking at the event, Sarpong revealed that the idea for her book materialised when she was working on a project in Las Vegas. She described that as a female person of colour, she believed that she had no prejudices. However, she realised this certainly was not the case when felt uncomfortable and scared around a lighting technician she was working with due to his many tattoos and the way he was dressed. Over time she consciously made an effort to overcome her apprehension and struck up a friendship with him.

Sarpong described how in writing Diversify she wants everyone to be able to confront their ‘Other’, be it someone disabled or someone with a different sexual orientation, and help them overcome their prejudices. She spanned from the shocking revelations of sexualharassment by Harvey Weinstein to

Sarpong believes that now more than ever we need a society that can understand and work with each other the tragic events at Grenfell Tower, and stressed that this book is a wider call to arms. At a time when it appears that we are more divided that ever, she wants her book to foster the idea of togetherness and unity. Sarpong believes that now more than ever we need a society that can understand and work with each other.

Finishing the interview with a call for the people of Durham to get together and have dinner with a wide range of people from the local community, Sarpong wants us all to be a part of a social revolution where we all recognise and act upon our prejudices to create a fairer and more just society.

VISUAL ARTS

10

Thursday, 2 November 2017

CAKE MAN: More than a critique of Empire?

By Kaler Wong

In an Artspace interview, Shonibare says his work came out of questioning his ethnic heritage: “One of my tutors said to me, “You’re African. Why aren’t you producing authentic African art?” And I thought, well, what does that actually mean?

What’s authentic?”

Photograph by B via Creative Commons and Flickr

Rarely do you come across an artist with so many layers of symbolism in their work as the British-Nigerian artist Yinka Shonibare MBE. Born in London, Shonibare moved to Lagos at the age of three, experiencing strong colonial influences, not least being taught in English rather than the traditional Nigerian Yoruba language. On his website Shonibare claims to “explore issues of race and class…[questioning] the meaning of cultural and national definitions.” With a background of two different cultures myself, Shonibare’s work has particular pertinence, especially in racial assumptions and questioning national identity from a multicultural perspective.

At first glance Shonibare’s sculptures appear fun and playful given the artist’s fondness of rich colours and patterns. On closer study, however, the themes of race, class and colonialism make his work more conceptually engaging and deeply moving. There can be no doubt that the mannequin in CAKE MAN, bent double from the towering weight of luxurious sugar-heavy cakes, is a reference to the exploitation of African slavery.

Photograph by YSPsculpture via Creative Commons and Flickr

One such stereotype is the batik fabric so characteristic of his sculptures. Whereas most people generally associate these textiles with Africa, Shonibare made a compelling discovery: “They’re actually Indonesian fabrics originally produced by the Dutch, [then] introduced to the West African market.” The boundary of authenticity is reduced to a blurred perimeter when viewing Shonibare’s work. Although the fabric is not originally African it has been assimilated into a clichéd African cultural identity; Shonibare urges the viewer to ask the question ‘At what point does it become authentically African?’

With a background of two different cultures myself, Shonibare’s work has particular pertinence, especially in racial asumptions and questioning national identity from a multicultural perspective Like much of Shonibare’s art, CAKE MAN is not confined to examinations of African stereotypes. A further layer of meaning focuses on materialistic greed following the 2008 global financial crisis. “It’s my tribute to bankers,” said Shonibare in a Guardian interview. “There’s been a lot of talk about bonuses to bankers and the top 1% literally taking all the cake.” The figure’s head, imprinted with a forecast of the global stock market, adds further symbolism of the modern obsession with money and consumer goods.

Photograph by B via Creative Commons and Flickr

Crucially, Shonibare doesn’t limit himself to solely examining race issues but breaks free from categorisation by scrutinising global capitalism. As a black artist he isn’t confined to black issues saying “I don’t disregard tradition, but should an English person make work about Morris dancing?” His figures are representative of greater society; capitalism’s top earners having their cake and eating it.

As a critic of empire one of the most unexpected actions by Shonibare was his acceptance of an MBE in 2005 and decision to affix it to the end of his name. Other black artists, such as the poet Benjamin Zephaniah, unequivocally reject such honours citing anti-imperialist beliefs, yet Shonibare justifies it as quasi-ironic. We must be wary, therefore, of the fact that there is no one person who can encapsulate the multitude of African histories. Nevertheless, Shonibare powerfully shows how he can focus on complex themes of identity, nationality, African authenticity and global capitalism. Layers of symbolism indeed.

FOOD AND DRINK

11

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Cooking with the stars

A who’s who of celebrity chefs to celebrate diversity in the food industry

By Emma Taylor Food and Drink Editor food@palatinate.org.uk

Lorraine Pascale

Images by Tony Worral Photography and Jennifer Rogers, Flickr via Creative Commons

Lorraine Pascale is one of Britain’s most well-known and popular celebrity chefs, with a range of recipe books that bring stylish cuisine to homes across the country. She is also a well-established BBC celebrity television chef – so if you haven’t seen her on the shelves of your local bookstore, you’ll definitely have seen her on your screen!

Pascale has spent most of her career teaching the nation how to cook Born to West Indian parents, Pascale first became a recognisable face when she began modelling. She first entered the foodie world by starting off her culinary career in baking, opening her own cupcake shop in London.

Pascale has spent most of her career teaching the nation to cook.

Ainsley Harriott

Image by What Olivia Did, Flickr via Creative Commons

Her books, with titles such as Baking Made Easy, Home Cooking Made Easy and Everyday Easy: 100 Fabulous Recipes for Fuss-Free Home Cooking are all about making incredible food at home, quickly and easily. Perfect for inspiration when you realise mid-term you’ve been living off pesto pasta and toast…

Harriott has been one of the faces of British celebrity cooking for decades. In addition to presenting Ready Steady Cook (who can forgot those red and green aprons) and Can’t Cook, Won’t Cook, Harriott was a success on the other side of the Atlantic with the American version of Ready Steady Cook – Ready… Set… Cook!

Image

by

Apron

and

Sneakers

via

Creative

Most of her books have been published alongside a BBC television programme – so if you need a baking programme to supplement your weekly Bake Off fix, this is a way to learn how to cook amazing food in your student kitchen.

Minimum time and effort, and maximum deliciousness.

If it’s been a long day at the Bill Bryson, though, Harriott is still your friend in the kitchen with his range of healthy ready meals. This may be more Ready Steady Microwave, but they still taste amazing – and surely that’s the most important thing.

If it’s been a long day at the Bill Bryson, though, Harriot is still your friend Image by Mona, Flickr via Creative Commons Ready Steady Cook! We’ve all heard these immortal words by one of Britain’s best-loved chefs, on one of Britain’s best-loved cookery shows (this was before Bake Off hit our television screens).

However, just like Lorraine Pascale, Harriott is a great chef to teach you how to become a culinary genius in the kitchen with simple recipes and ingredients. His recipe books are centred around making home cooking fun and easy, with titles like Ainsley Harriott’s Meals in Minutes, Ainsley Harriott’s Gourmet Express and Ainsley Harriott’s Friends and Family Cookbook.

Commons

Image by Emma Taylor and Mike Scott

CREATIVE WRITING 12

Thursday, 2 November 2017

ZEBRAS

By Jontin Oluyemi Cooper

kept on fabricating new answers. This lasted for weeks, months, years. I actually developed quite a talent for making up stories about Nigeria. I used what I knew of the country from the newspapers. I started to enjoy it. It was my thing. It was a hobby. My friends loved my stories. Even my teachers were impressed. Everyone wanted me to tell another story about my crazy third cousins, or the time I was robbed in Lagos. Everyone wanted to hear about the seemingly endless troubles of my fabricated second cousin Abegunde. In the latest instalment, he had been forced to eat his father’s heart in order to take the kingship of his tribe. I got that idea from Game of Thrones.

It wasn’t my fault that things got so out of hand. No. That’s not right. It wasn’t completely my fault then. It certainly wasn’t my fault to begin with.

I blame my stupid surname – ‘Obafemi’. I could hardly hope to go about in a practically all-white school with a surname like that and not attract some interest. In a school full of Smiths, Joneses, Coopers and Pitt-Rivers, the name Obafemi stood out like a zebra among horses.

When people did ask me questions about my surname and where I came from I didn’t want to disappoint them with my answers. They wanted me to tell them that I was an African through and through. They wanted me to tell them about the mysteries of the continent. They wanted me to tell them about seeing zebras on safari and tasting spicy curries. They wanted to know what the colourful clothing looked like, what it was like during the heatwaves.

They wanted to know if I’d ever visited the Nile and if I’d ever seen the Pyramids. They wanted to see me to tell them that Nelson Mandela was my hero. They wanted me to show off my African accent.

“They wanted me to tell them that I was an African through and through” Can you imagine how much of a letdown it would have been if I told them that I was about as African as them?

My black skin is just about the only African thing about me. Yes, I’m half Nigerian by blood, but that’s about it.

My white mum was born and raised in rural Cheshire. My dad is Nigerian, but he’s only visited Africa once in his life – on a two week holiday. He was born at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham, and by all accounts considers himself to be British, not Nigerian.

“Everyone wanted me to tell another story about my crazy So really, it’s a stretch to even call me half Nigerian.

On the first day of secondary school, when they saw my black skin and my exotic surname on the register, all my classmates assumed that I must be African. That would be the natural assumption. I could have, should have, explained otherwise. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to disappoint them. I wanted to be interesting. I wanted to be different. I wanted them to like me. I told them that I was Nigerian to the core.

They then asked me ‘what do people do in Nigeria?’ I was just as qualified to answer that question as they were.

Even to this day, I have never visited Africa in my life, let alone Nigeria.

I’ve never even set foot out of Europe.

Nevertheless, I made up an answer. I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong.

“I wanted to be interesting... I wanted them to like me” They kept on asking me questions. I

third cousins, or the time I was robbed in Lagos.”

I told them that I was fluent in Yoruba.

They wanted evidence. I couldn’t provide it initially. Some people started calling me a liar, a fraud. They told me that they bet I didn’t know a single word of Yoruba. I couldn’t face the accusations. I had to prove them wrong.

I mumbled a few African-sounding syllables. I did my best impression of a tribal song. It sounded African. They seemed pleased enough with that.

I forced myself to like Nigerian food and music. I’ve always had a low threshold for spicy foods, but I forced myself to eat the extra hot special at Nando’s to show off my Nigerian taste buds. I researched Afrobeats. I forced myself to like the musical genre. I would have preferred to listen to the likes of Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, and Adele, but I forced myself to listen to Wizkid, Stormzy, and Drake. I forced myself to like them. Maybe I did end up liking them. Regardless, my music

CREATIVE WRITING Thursday, 2 November 2017

13

In this short story by Jontin Oluyemi Cooper, the narrator’s identity becomes contested territory, all against a backdrop of very Nigerian zebras. taste couldn’t be white. It had to be black.

They asked me if I had ever been a victim of racism. I couldn’t tell them that my sheltered middle-class upbringing meant that I hadn’t even come across the phrase ‘racism’ until a few years before. A true African, a true black person, would have experienced some racism in their lifetime. It’s an inevitability. So I made up an experience. I told them that I’d had people calling me a nigger from their open car windows. I told them that I’d had twigs thrown at me (I was going to say that I’d had stones thrown at me, but I thought that might defy belief). I told them that I’d once been picked on by a racist teacher. I started to find racism in everything around me. The commercial in the ad-break during last night’s X Factor was racist. That newspaper article was racist. The casting for that TV show was racist. That song was racist.

I was the go-to person if you wanted a rant about racism. I was their puppet. I put on a show.

It was the beginning of sixth form.

Among the usual influx of new students, there was Ifechi. Now Ifechi was everything that I wished I could be. He was everything that I had told everyone that I was. He was everything that everyone thought I was. Ifechi was a true, authentic Nigerian. Both his parents were Nigerian. They were proper members of the Igbo tribe. He had been born in Abuja and had been raised there for the first decade of his life. Inevitably, he quickly saw through my facade of Nigerian-ness.

“...I couldn’t backtrack.

Things had gone too far.”

Everyone assumed that we would become best friends, having a home country in common and that. He asked me where my family came from. I said Lagos. He asked where in Lagos. I frantically searched through the vacant rooms of my brain for an answer. After a few moments of silence, I mumbled something vague about the west side of Lagos. He asked me if I had ever eaten dodo before. I thought he was making a joke, mistaking the native plantain dish for the extinct bird. One of my friends asked me to tell him about the time I found a zebra in my backyard back in Nigeria. As I told the story, Ifechi looked increasingly bemused.

I realized why afterwards. I overheard him speaking to them during geography. They were asking him if all Nigerians were like me. ‘Tom is a lot of things’, he said, ‘but he’s definitely not Nigerian. Any proper Nigerian would know that in Nigeria we don’t have zebras.’

This went on for three years. It had got to the point where I couldn’t backtrack. Things had gone too far. I became paranoid. Anything that might blow my cover had to be hidden. I made sure that my dad didn’t bump into any of my friends at Parent’s Evening. I didn’t want them to hear the supposed Nigerian prince speaking with a thick Birmingham accent.

My pre-school friends, the ones who had known me as the very British Tom, must never bump into my current school friends. I had sleepless nights fearing that my cover might be blown.

I feared the disappointment in their eyes, the disgust. I was always dreaming of situations in which person A meets person B. They quickly realize that they both share me as a mutual friend, but are then shocked to realize that they know two very different Toms.

I guess it was a relief when my cover was finally blown. At least I no longer had a reason to be paranoid.

Illustrations by Sarah McAllister

TRAVEL 14

Thursday, 2 November 2017

‘Poverty porn’ and ‘beg-packing’: colonial etiquette in developing countries

By Danielle Cuaycong travel@palatinate.org.uk

R true.

udyard Kipling once eminently wrote, “East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet,” and with increased tourism in developing countries, you would never expect this quote to still ring

Often tourists see locals as an ‘attraction’ instead of being part of society Coming from the Philippines, a developing country in southeast Asia, I have witnessed the prevalence of the patronising tone tourists naturally adopt when they approach the local population. Conversations typically comprise of saying that FIlipinos are ‘so cute’ and continue with the idea that the people are ‘out of reality’ since they do not have the same privileges as us.

However, this is the issue – whilst it may be noble of these backpackers to appreciate the warmth of Filipinos, the ignorant ideas of travellers from colonial nations materialise. Often they demean the people they

meet overseas by using simplistic phrases, as well as seeing locals as an ‘attraction’ instead of being a part of society. Rather than immersing themselves in the true (and sometimes, harsh) reality of the conditions of these developing countries, they remain onlookers and choose to imagine that Filipinos are ‘noble savages’.

Most of the time, privileged, white backpackers exert their narrow-mindedness and seem to think that ‘poverty porn’ is justified, as they inundate images of themselves on their Instagram with street beggars and poor orphans in a rather unconvincing attempt to appear ‘kind’. However, if the local people hesitate at being photographed and ask for a small payment in exchange for the photos, the backpackers are deeply offended and often balk at sparing twenty pence because they’re ‘on a budget’.

We should see the population with respect, rather than as a spectacle The fundamental concern, is that travelling to a country is not purely about seeing the ‘cute locals’, it is about enriching your history of the country in a responsible way by appreciating the place, history and people. We should see the population with respect,

rather than as a spectacle.

To make matters worse, in an attempt to ‘save money’, some tourists indulge in ‘beg-packing’. This controversial spectacle ranges from backpackers begging in the realms of train stations to selling ‘art’ in the busiest of roads, all in an attempt to ask people in the poorest countries to fund their extravagant countryhopping. Social media has been besieged with images of sad-looking ‘beg-packers’ holding signs, claiming to have ‘no money left’. Meaning, ‘no money left’ to throw at sleeping in a warm hotel, or dining in a fancy restaurant, whilst plenty of locals likely have ‘no money left’ to buy a cup of clean drinking water.

I have witnessed the patronising tone tourists naturally adopt when they approach the local population Unfortunately, a lot of backpackers who struggle to carry the load of their Osprey backpacks around Thailand, are unaware of the true meaning of ‘struggle’. They continue to objectify the locals in developing countries and sometimes, even ‘beg-pack’ to fund their next trip to a waterfall, where they hope to ‘find themselves’.

Tourists must respect Aboriginal communities Catriona Inglis explores how tourists dominate Aboriginal landmarks in Australia

By Catriona Inglis travel@palatinate.org.uk

I

t is no secret that there are still great tensions between indigenous and non-indigenous Australians – or is it? This is a topic that is not favoured by our British media, and even the Australian media seem to view it as taboo. Colonialism and its continued effects is not a comfortable topic and it is often restricted to ‘scholarly’ research, rather than being brought into more public discussion. However, the situation has since improved and the tourism industry is a good indicator of this progression. Many tourist sites have been handed back to their indigenous owners, who now play an active role in the running of these destinations.

sage. However, the monolith is sacred to the Anangu nation and they have spent years campaigning to get the climbing of Uluru banned. For them, it is a desecration akin to destroying an altar. Since the introduction of education programmes, the percentage of visitors climbing Uluru has reduced from 74% in 1990 to 38%, yet a proposal to ban all climbing of Uluru in 2009 was rejected due to strong opposition. The park themselves say that they will not consider banning the climb until the percentage of tourists climbing Uluru drops below 20%, despite

Great steps have been taken to ensure indigenous Australian involvement in the site

It is a desecration akin to destroying an altar In many ways, the handover of the site back to them has not greatly improved the lives of the local Aboriginal Australians. At the Ayers Rock Resort, there is just one Aboriginal employee out of a staff of 670. The handback deal made in 1985 means that the indigenous owners receive just 25% of gate fees paid by visitors to the national park. Last year, the cut given to the indigenous landowners was only $1.6 million out of the $1 billion made a year – a major hint that this inequality still exists.

So, is the tourist industry bad for Aboriginal Australia? The answer is a mixture of both yes and no.

One of the best examples of this is Uluru and KataTjuta national park. It was handed back in 1985 to the Anangu people, the Aboriginal community who are the owners of the land. Uluru, also known as Ayers Rock, is a national landmark that can be seen as the embodiment of what it means to be Australian, with it seeing 400,000 visitors per year. This handing-back was seen as a symbol of reconciliation between nonindigenous and indigenous Australians. Here, great steps have been taken to ensure indigenous involvement in the site; the joint-management scheme means that half of the members of the board of management of the national park are aboriginal.

However, this arrangement is far from perfect. There is much debate as to whether the climbing of Uluru should be banned. Many tourists still climb Uluru every year and for many, the climb is seen as a rite of pas-

ing of Uluru. We, as tourists, have a responsibility to respect the wishes of the community, and simply be content to explore the stunning beauty of the area from the ground.

Tourists have a responsibility to respect the wishes of the community, and simply be content to explore the stunning beauty of the area from the ground

the fact that there have been 35 deaths relating to the recreational climb-

My visit to Uluru in 2016 left me enchanted by the almost impossible magicalness of the area. But, as a tourist, I was also left acutely aware of the complex social issues playing out around me. I certainly think that indigenous Australians are pushed to the sidelines in the constant struggle for racial equality across the globe.

Illustration by Faye Chua

STAGE Thursday, 2 November 2017

15

Can theatre liberate the oppressed?

Stage discusses the ways in which musical theatre subvert tropes and stereotypes

By Martin Docherty stage@palatinate.org.uk

W

e can see how successful Hamilton is at annoying white supremacists by considering Donald Trump’s cries on Twitter that, “The theatre must always be a safe and special place”, after the cast criticised Mike Pence on stage.

But Hamilton did more than just annoy Trump.

Indeed, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s show scarcely needs an introduction, but in case you’ve not used YouTube in the past year, I’ll attempt to give one. Hamilton takes the tale of the founding father Alexander Hamilton, creator of the nation’s financial system, New York Post and Federalist Party, and presents it in a hiphop/pop/rhythm/soul musical of unprecedented success. The musical won eleven awards at the 70th Tony Awards; the soundtrack topped the Billboard Rap charts twice after the release of its mix tape; and it made $3.3 million in its first 8 performances alone.

The show also adopts a specific eye towards casting the white founding fathers as people of colour, and whilst I could gush about the brilliance of the show forever, that is going to be our core focus here. We are concerned with the question of whether theatre can be used to combat oppression.

And moreover, how well can a musical like Hamilton, a piece concerned so heavily with race, help to liberate people of colour? As a white male attending Durham University, I may not be the best person to ask these questions, so this article will rely primarily upon the lived experiences of people affected by such issues.

“We’ve forgotten about the politics that underpin the idea of racial politics in our country” Arguably, a genre like musical theatre is poorly equipped to combat oppressive systems. Hamilton’s regular tickets retail for $139-$177, with the most expensive tickets costing up to $849 - the record for direct price of Broadway tickets. It’s an unfair fact that people of colour earn on average less than white people in the US. If the people who can afford to buy tickets are statistically less likely to be the people of colour it represents, then how can it claim to meaningfully combat oppression for them?

In his Beyond Bourgeois Theatre, French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre observes that, “The bourgeois controls the theatre by the price of tickets which rose steadily in order to make the theatre a profit-making enterprise.”

There is also the question of whether casting the all-white, often slave owning Founding Fathers as people of colour that become glorified through dynamic musical numbers is actually helpful in combatting racial oppression. While it is not my place to put forth, it is a position that can be formed from statements such as these from Bush theatre owner Madani Younis, in a recent Guardian article:

‘Hamilton’ creates a tool of radical subversion that eats at the founding heart of American white supremacy Hamilton not only reclaims the story of the Founding Fathers, and not only focalises a proimmigration tale within it, but it also tells this story through the musical language of the oppressed.

By submerging the story in music that has been used by black people for generations as catharsis from white oppression, Hamilton creates a tool of radical subversion that eats at the founding heart of American white supremacy.

“The corporatisation of diversity now means that race becomes something we talk about in ways that we feel comfortable. It has been neutralised in the sense that we’ve forgotten about the politics that underpin the idea of racial politics in our country.”

‘Hamilton’ not only reclaims the story of the Founding Fathers, but it also tells this story through the musical language of the oppressed It is easy to see how a critic could accuse Hamilton, in the light of its ridiculous ticket prices, of using corporatised diversity, coupled with the partial erasure of the atrocities of the Founding Fathers against people of colour.

Yet the corporatised diversity critique doesn’t hold, as Hamilton was not created by white people.

Leslie Odom Jr summarises this subversion in an interview with Rolling Stones: “It is quite literally taking the history that someone has tried to exclude us from and reclaiming it. We are saying we have the right to tell it too.”

Clockwise from top: images by Nathan Hughes Hamilton, The Bush Centre and Disney via Creative Commons

THE indigo INTERVIEW 16

Racism: #RecogniseAndResist indigo interviews Ryan Robinson Perinchief, President of the Durham People of Colour Association...

By Adele Cooke Deputy indigo Editor indigo.deputy@palatinate.org.uk

D

urham People of Colour Association are here to implement change. Through their Black History Month panel last Monday night, and previous events including DiversiTEA and film screenings, the People of Colour Association are proving they are an active force for good within the Durham University environment. The society aim to “serves as a safe, welcoming space for people of colour to access confidential welfare services, meetings and talks, social events, campaigns, and education on race-related issues, as well as facilitate greater racial dialogue and awareness on campus.” It’s this greater racial dialogue Palatinate are aiming to promote in this issue, as indigo sit down with Ryan Robinson Perinchief to dicuss BLINK, representation, Durham People of Colour Association and Black History Month.

How do you think BLINK will increase the engagement of people of colour within Durham’s media scene?

BLINK was started as a response to the perceived marginalisation of people of colour – both at Durham and in the media generally. It is important for any artist or writer to have the freedom to express themselves unapologetically…and write about what matters to them and under an independent and uncensored platform. BLINK is not a newspaper – but a cultural magazine. In this sense, it serves as a forum for people of colour to embrace their own heritages and cultures without having to worry about what other people will think.

As a new association which was created in response to a sense of alienation felt by many BME students at Durham, it’s my job to help foster a sense of community and empowerment amongst students of colour so that they might feel a little more comfortable in a social environment that was not necessarily built for them. We organise panels and discussions on race relations, and advocate for those who might not otherwise be seen or heard at Durham University.

Do you think the Euro-American narrative is removing the Blackness from Black History Month as Monday night’s Blanel considered?

I think Black History Month is definitely something that can be easily distorted if it is not carefully preserved.

For example, it was originally started as “Negro History Week” in the United States and had a particular emphasis on significant events in the African Diaspora. This makes sense because, over the past four hundred years, many descendants of Africa have been deliberately and strategically alienated from their cultures, languages, histories and even names due to the legacies of slavery and colonization - Negro History Week was an attempt to reconnect with those things in some way after emancipation.

Have you found Durham to be a particularly receptive place to raise awareness about issues pertaining to people of colour?

We receive multiple cases of racially-motivated harassment on a monthly basis from both students and the local community, for which there is little accountability or closure. We’ve heard stories from students of harassment and discomfort by students, jeers of “the N-word” by local adults and children out and about in the town, and even inappropriate remarks by lecturers during class. Many of these instances are not even considered “cases” per say – they are just a part of everyday life for people of colour. It is expected that any talk of race will make most people uncomfortable, but it is something that we must do if we are truly serious about making Durham a better place for all students.

How would you respond to individuals who argue there should be no Black History Month?

The simple fact is that, were it not for a Black History Month, Black history would likely not be talked about at all. Our curriculums are Eurocentric, our films are Eurocentric and our world order is Eurocentric. Black History Month provides a small window into the contributions of the black community to the world throughout history, and as long as we as black people are marginalised in the history books and in real-time, Black History Month shall remain as a reminder to us and to everyone else that we might actually be worth remembering.

What does your role as president of the Durham People of Colour Association consist of?

Indeed, there is a small segment of the student body that is open to learning about the issues that people of colour are experiencing both globally and here in Durham, as evidenced by the number of people that attend our various forums and panels throughout the year. However, I would say that, as with anywhere else, the majority of people either i) do not care because it doesn’t affect them, or ii) care, but not deeply enough to put themselves in the uncomfortable position of confronting and altering their own behaviour.

Nevertheless, we were very satisfied with the results of our first campaign, ‘Racism: #RecogniseAndResist’ which sought to raise awareness about the ridiculous number of incidents of outright racial discrimination that have occurred here at Durham.

Furthermore, that this issue extends beyond highly selective universities and has not equalised over time.

Not to mention, the possible causes of this underrepresentation go beyond mere barriers to entry and indeed include biases in the admissions process and outright discrimination. The question of what can be done to increase representation of people of colour is asked time and time again, but let’s not kid ourselves: no frivolous focus group will create fair access to British universities for ethnic minorities when it is evident that there is no genuine intention to do so.

Image via the Durham People of Colour Association

According to David Lammy in a piece for The Guardian, between 2010 and 2015 one in four of all Cambridge colleges failed to make any offers to Black British Applicants. What do you think about the lack of representation at Cambridge and what can we do to increase the representation of people of colour in the future at collegiate universities?

The issue of a lack of representation is no surprise to people of colour, whether at Cambridge or elsewhere, really. Durham University’s very owProfessor Vikki Boliver from the School of Applied Social Sciences has authored numerous publications which demonstrate that students “from black, Pakistani and Bangladeshi backgrounds were shown to be significantly less likely than white applicants to be offered places at Russell Group universities even when they had achieved the same exam grades at A-level.”

However, what we have seen recently in the UK are some attempts to distort that: for example, last year’s Black History Month included celebrations of Zayn Malik and Sadiq Khan, who would certainly not be described as black in the United States. Furthermore, many of the black figures that have been recognised during Black History Month include people who have made Western civilisation better in some way – inventors, the first person to do this and that, people who have contributed to the advancement of a civilisation that never liked them in the first place.

Whilst these people should certainly be remembered for their personal successes, we rarely ever hear appreciation for the black revolutionaries who were seen as actual leaders in their own communities. I believe this intentional, not only to make Black History more palatable to the whites and non-black people of colour, but also as a means to portray the true black leaders of the past as unworthy of reverence for being too radical or too threatening to the oppressive powers of their time. This is why, irrespective of Black History Month, people of colour must make a personal effort to research and celebrate their own stories and heroes, with no apologies.