It’s June 1948. His name is Walter.
Along with around 500 others
he disembarks the SS Empire Windrush at Tilbury Docks in London. There is a
spring in his step. It’s been a long voyage, but a new and exciting life
awaits.
As the ‘Mother Country’ we called out to Walter and his
friends in the West Indies to fight in the war. He came. Then we invited them
back to help rebuild the Mother Country. Walter responded again, and here he is
on this cold London morning.
He’s been told where it is best to go in order to find a
boarding house and still with a spring in his step, he approaches the street
he’s been directed to.
As he turns the corner, all the excitement evaporates. In
front of him are two boarding houses, next to each other. Both have the same
sign in the window.
No Blacks. No Irish. No Dogs.
With slumped shoulders and the beginnings of what would
become his familiar slouching walk, Walter carries on down the street.
The story you have just read is a composite of a number of
stories told at that time.
Now let’s move to 2020. I want to introduce you to three friends.
Judith has just finished her degree. She has the world at
her feet. Or she should have. It’s not quite that simple. Of Nigerian parentage, growing
up Judith didn’t really see herself as ‘black’ until she got to reception class at
school and people started to call her ‘Judith Pooith’. She didn’t really understand the nickname at
first until she realised that they were making fun of her skin colour. And then
at twelve years old she was first told she was a ni**er. It shocked her.
Judith faces discrimination daily. She says:
‘Did you or your parents ever have to worry about their jobs
because of their skin colour? Did you or your parents have to think about what
they are going to call their children because they don’t want them to be
discriminated against because their name sounds “black”? Did your parents ever
have to tell you that you need to work twice as hard because you will always
have to prove yourself to others because of the colour of your skin? Did you
never think before going into a room that "I’m going to be the only black
person here"? I normally don’t talk about these things because I’m scared as to
what others may say. But enough is enough. I can’t stay silent.’
Susan is a little older than Judith and already successful
as a writer and business woman. She has parents of West Indian origin. Susan
says:
‘Sometimes I’m accused of using the’ race card’. But what
does that mean? Should I just ignore what happens to me? What about the time I
had dog’s excrement thrown at me as a child while being told to go back to
where I came from? I remember when I was eight years old, after many hurtful
comments, asking my parents why I was born with black skin "as no one seems to
like us this way". One time I bit the insides of my cheeks in order to prevent
tears as others laughed because someone has printed a picture of an ape and put
my name above it. More recently, having married my wonderful white Danish
husband, I was asked why I didn’t date black men.
'The news has unearthed feelings I had buried. The video of
George Floyd dying with knees on his back and his neck is both literal and
metaphorical for what many put up with because of race.’
Angela is a young woman of Indian origin and has had her
fair share of racism too. She is a bright girl from a highly educated family,
but despite this has regularly been called a ‘dumb black girl’ and ‘stupid
Paki’. For Angela her concern is the response to the current crisis:
‘Too many who usually have a lot to say on politics on
social media are saying nothing on the injustices that are happening. They are
part of the problem! Silence is betrayal. Too many don't see injustice and just
see inconvenience and a challenge to their own comfort.
'We all know racists. I see their looks, I feel their
prejudice. Racism is a state of heart. In the end only God can change that
heart. But we can pray, set the standard of respect and love and speak out
against racial injustice.’
Three People. Nigerian. West Indian. Indian.
Four stories.
One problem.
Pray. Speak out. #blacklivesmatter.
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