Anti-Racism & Anxiety

Before reading the blog, please consider making a donation to one or more of the following deserving organisations:

“A woman with a voice is by definition a strong woman, but the search to find that voice can be remarkably difficult” – Melinda Gates

I sit here in my pyjama’s and bath robe, freshly showered, drinking cider with my husband as we winddown for our Saturday night. We haven’t done this in over a month I think. The pandemic had already given our life a complete overhaul. Then the Black Lives Matter movement spread across the world at an even faster rate. People have wondered what gave the movement such momentum compared to 2012 when BLM began. My armchair opinion is that the continued needless police murders of innocent black lives caught on camera and broadcast globally on social media during lockdown were akin to a match dropped into a tank of lighter fluid. Isolating ourselves at home, the developed world had increased their screentime by over 50% and there was just no avoiding the repeated and historical racist transgressions of the police, on a global scale. By implication this also drew our attention to systemic racism across all institutions, social structures, indeed all social spaces. For anyone with any social conscience it was a brutal, harsh and painful awakening.

With my heritage as a second generation immigrant, born to Hong Kong Cantonese parents in a small coastal town in North Yorkshire I am accustomed to being “not from around here” even though I am indeed from around here. So, although I am very familiar with racism in all its overt forms, it was alarming to look internally and realise the extent of internalised racism I also carry, to this very moment. Disparaging misconceptions of black people that I have internalised from my elders. Racial slurs that I would never dare utter in English, yet comfortably use in Cantonese until only the last year. The reflection in the racism mirror is ugly, and then I started to tackle the racism I had perpetuated in my art.

I’m not particularly proud of this area, but I share it in the hope that it will help another henna friend who may be facing their own racism mirror and having difficulty with atoning for what they see there. Many of you will already know that my henna journey began only in 2013 – a mere 7 years ago. Henna as body adornment by then had existed for over 5000 years according to archeological evidence. My subsequent ascension in the professional henna society was rapid, a combination of my quick learning skills (I love to learn, anything) and my ‘good immigrant’ model minority personality. I was quickly welcomed into circles of influence – I created a regional community group with 18 months. I was an international instructor within 3 years. Won a regional award by 4 years. And formally initiated in the online henna community with a moderator role. The acceptance via recognition and accolades was intoxicatingly dizzying.

I only learned recently through reading & self-study that my sense of identity and belonging have always been weak and neglected, which goes some way to explain why I have spent my entire life anxiously yearning and searching for a place to belong. Somewhere I can be my authentic self. Somewhere I can call My Village with My People. My home and my little family were set up, and I felt that the henna community was the final piece of the puzzle. Like the good immigrant I have always been, I assimilated and integrated within nanoseconds. No adjustment period necessary. It was like I had always belonged. Without hesitation I was advocating the prescriptive professional community standards: Use only natural henna; Condemn all imitation/chemicalised henna; Only recognising ‘professional’ henna artists if they have insurance with some effort towards branding along with a close-to-advanced level of artistry regardless of cultural heritage. I didn’t question it. It was logical and sensible.

It did not occur to me that what was actually happening was that the 5000 year old art and craft of henna had been gentrified. In the 1990s a white American lady was the first to document scientific experiments on the dye properties of the henna plant, on how to maximise the dye release, on the best conditions for mixing, and also set a standard protocol for anyone who would decide upon henna as their artistic career path. By the time I entered the upper echelons of henna influence, social media had closely networked an artistic community that was previously divided by physical, geographic distance. The world was smaller. The art of henna was more visible, more shared. It became a renaissance movement for henna body art, and I had been given a seat at the table in the palace where judgement was passed. It seemed of little consequence to me that this plant and its uses for body adornment on hair and skin had existed for 5000 years without any need for this institutionalised intervention. It hadn’t occurred to me that the accusations of cultural appropriation that I could hear were not against henna as a medium for art by non-POC with no equatorial descent – but that it had been gentrified by white women who had created an inherently racist standard to measure and judge the world’s henna artists. It was arrogant and ignorant in its insistence that it was ‘honouring’ the legacy of henna. And I was completely complicit.

My rose-tinted view took approximately a year to fade. My fall from grace came slowly, with social punishment and significant emotional trauma (as I keep telling you – clearly I have an issue there).

I no longer belonged. I had been rejected.

The 2020 Black Lives Matter movement brought with it new vernacular. We had already added social distancing, pandemic, personal protective equipment (PPE) into our daily conversations. BLM has added even more vocabulary with terms including systemic racism, white privilege, model minority myth, white silence, white fragility, code-switching, internalised racism, and more (Google these to find the definitions). I have been immersing myself in learning about racism. I gave myself a reading list*. I studiously began to consume the books both in physical and audio form. I took notes. I applied the new knowledge in order to solidify my learning. And I realised the urgent need to call-out the gentrified structure of the online henna community, just one. More. Time. You can witness the actions I took and the consequences of those actions in my social media, in ‘my document‘ and in the previous blog update. I don’t want to drain you by repeating myself.

…. I question myself constantly.

Could I have handled it better? Should I have been more gentle with my tone? Should I have reached out privately [again]? Was there another way I could have made my former colleagues and friends hear my pain and discomfort? Did I expect too much from them? Am I just too much for everyone? Too passionate. Too loud. Too involved. Too exhausting. Too demanding. Too direct. Too harsh. I look at the events and messages and screenshots. I consider everything backwards, inside-out, upside-down, diagonally and fragmentally. I can’t see any other way I could have tackled it. And yet, I still hold belief that I am in the wrong, despite evidence to the contrary. This, according to my therapist, is what anxiety does.

This is the first time in my life that I have invested in regular counselling to manage the poltergeist in my life – my anxiety. I believe that investing in fortnightly counselling has given me the strength to raise my voice to say: NO. I will not let this happen again.

And once I had used my voice once, I found myself using it again.

And I know with a fair degree of certainty that I will do it again when the situation arises. Silence is, as I have personally experienced, a very damaging compliance.

Inevitably there was backlash for which I was naively unprepared. I knew there would be people who don’t agree with my methods. But what I was not prepared for was the sensation of being given apologies that I struggled to accept. Or apologies that were performative and empty. Or apologies that came with apologetic emotional accounts of traumatic and abusive histories. I have learned some horrible childhood histories in the last 3 days. I was not prepared for this specific type of emotional weight. I was also not prepared to learn the true extent of fragility in the white woman. From tone policing to the bombardment of insidiously polite words in debate-style as insistent, dogmatic justification for why I am wrong to feel what I feel, and even worse share it. I have very consciously refrained from making direct accusations. I’ve only provided visuals of what I experienced from my point of view, then shared how traumatised I am, along with the state of my mental health as a result. The line between my self, and my anxiety blurs with each retort, and from there it doesn’t take much for the anxiety to take over.

This is where I am at: Walking the slack rope between my rational mind, and my paranoid anxious mind. And this is likely to be very common for every single one of us engaging in anti-racism work while balancing mental health issues.

So, now what do I do?
Anxiety tells me every 5 minutes that the only surefire solution is to Shut Up and Sit Down. Be quiet. Stop talking about anti-racism. Stop talking about how it is affecting me. Stop noticing when systemic racism is at play. Stop creating more trouble and backlash.

Just. STOP.

My support system (hubs and my lovely counsellor) insist otherwise. They tell me emphatically that I need radical self-care and boundaries of steel. Setting firm and specific boundaries, such as fixed times for anti-racism work, specific channels for communication and discussions, immediately deleting any messages or comments with negative opening sentences. Most importantly I must unequivocally keep my evenings free from anti-racism work so that I can maintain a healthy family life. Additionally, self-care needs to go beyond taking a relaxing bath, or exercising. I need to remember to do things that make me feel good. All of these will serve to protect me from allowing the anxiety to dominate and skewing my perception of reality. If like me you also live with your own poltergeist-like anxiety, then these are all important actions to take while you tackle unlearning internalised racism and engaging in anti-racism work. It is deep work that goes right into the core of who we are as social beings – and it is frequently very unsettling. If you don’t take care of your self, you will burn out with emotional exhaustion very, very quickly, thus sabotaging all your hard work. We need to remember that this is a lifelong marathon, and not a 7-day sprint. Endurance. Pace. Cadence. That’s what we need most. Take it at a pace that is suited to you. Always (and I mean ALWAYS) use your voice. Small measured doses, as frequently as you can manage. Never stop learning. Don’t give up when it gets difficult. Celebrate the tiny milestones, and then keep going because you know as well as I do: We can do this.

Prepping for zoom therapy sessions

Postscript: Thank you deeply to everyone who has made a contribution as a result of my document on systemic racism in the henna hub. These contributions enable me to top-up with additional counselling sessions as I continue with the work and emotional energy of using my anxious voice for anti-racism.

*Finally, here is my reading list for anti-racism work in the order I have been reading them and my suggestions. Please, if you want to do your part in understanding anti-racism, try one of these books in whatever format is accessible to you:

Henna & Racism

Before you read the blog post, please consider making a donation to one or more of the following deserving causes:

Two weeks ago I lightly clicked ‘Add to Story’ after editing a screenshot. I wanted to share a mind map I was using to organise my thoughts regarding racism in the henna industry. It was intended in part as a teaser post, to build interest, and also to hold myself accountable. I needed to get the blog post written while the energy for change from the Black Lives Matter movement was still high. Upload, and logoff was my intention.

Fast forward to 36 hours, and +48 text-heavy IG story slides later I had vomited the entire contents of what was supposed to be a measured, interesting, intelligent and eloquent prose for my blog. Instead I ended up with a piece-meal, throw-away shorthand social media version on my Instagram.

oops.

Well, that unravelled unexpectedly.

The mind map, which I clearly didn’t end up even using

If you follow my social media, and also my Facebook activity you will be aware that the 50 slide emotional story then evolved into a 54-page document. A compilation of screenshots of discussions from my time on the moderator team for the 11,000 member Facebook community: Henna Hub. I held a unique position and insight on the team as the only non-white voice. And the events in the year leading up to my sudden dismissal were emotional and socially abusive, while also a jarring experience in white fragility when I was evicted. I had collected all my screenshots and analysed them, redacted some names, breaking down the power dynamics of the patterns of communication. Primarily I was doing this work to better achieve closure on a painful and traumatic time of my life. I have a counsellor now, and the sessions had given me strength and recovery enough to re-confront past situations that had been lacking in resolution. Once the document was complete I realised that I had created a visual breakdown of the message I had repeatedly (twice) tried to have heard by my colleagues. With my moral compass as the driving force, I decided to make this document available to existing mods on the team, not all of them – but specifically the few that I felt comfortable with sending it to. With the beginnings of a global civil rights movement I was acutely aware that there would never, ever be another opportunity in my lifetime where I could actually, finally be listened to. So I uploaded the document, shared it with a handful of mods, and logged off, physically shaking, fearful of retaliatory attacks, social damage, and professional criticism.

3 days later, after only two confirmed readers, a wholly unconnected (to me) discussion began in the Henna Hub, inevitably questioning the lack of Black representation in the Henna Hub moderator team. As with all topics on cultural appropriation and race in that community, it quickly descended into racist personal attacks along with aggressive white entitlement. I was in live communication with an active mod, so I agreed to release access to my document to all the mods to help them understand the systemic flaws that were generating this problem. Within the following 24 hours and in response to this, the two founders of this international community decided they would archive the entire group and end all discussions. You can no longer find it unless you were a member.

The reaction to this has been creating waves of all measures across the international henna community. It is difficult to now say “It’s just a Facebook group, get over it” as it has become clear that it was valued by a huge number of artists. 11 thousand people had joined and contributed to the building of the community. When the owners arbitrarily closed it down they demonstrated that this was not a community that belonged to the masses, but it belonged to the two individuals at the top, serving their purposes alone. For members without insight of the inner workings of the group, this action confirmed that the Henna Hub was racist and therefore implicated the entire mod team. The other 18 members of the mod team experienced a shocking betrayal as they were neither consulted or given the chance to work on the relevant improvements needed to course correct. They were witnessing their roles being vilified in reactions across social media, and they were uncomfortable with the guilt whilst having no means to address it. A new group almost immediately sprung up to step in to the void that was created, while uncomfortably not addressing the trauma that had created the need for this new space.

Since then “my document”, as I so innocuously refer to it, is now available for all to download. It had started to feel important. The Henna Hub represented a microcosm of our global society, having gentrified a 5000 year old art form, imposing a discriminatory ‘professional standard’ in its social structure which followed the template of white supremacy and systemic racism. My document was being viewed as a working example of precisely how systemic racism, passive allyship and fearful silence all perpetuated the flawed system, enabling oppression and abuse.

My intentions from my document remain clearly stated in the [most professional appearing] opening pages: I want change; I want intersectional diversity; I wanted our henna community to be the proof that progress and revolution is possible, and it could be deeply restorative.

“The objective in sharing this document is to set in motion real and tangible changes to a community which is on the cusp of irrelevance, thus losing the societal changing opportunity to evolve into the future of the henna world.”

Instead what we got was shutdown.

I’ve had to deal with a lot of repercussions. I have received messages – far less than you think – of support. I’ve received apologies – also less than you think – genuine ones, performative ones and rage-inducing empty ones, not from the people you would expect. I have become a signpost for fellow Henna Hub trauma victims – people who had been living with the experience of being gaslighted, excluded, and socially abused, for pointing out racism. I have been drawn into tiring discussions, especially with white people about how difficult but necessary this self-exploration is. I have been blocked, and caught it happening. And I have faced new attacks of aggressive white privilege, white guilt and entitlement- all stemming from the deep discomfort and denial of being called-out as racist.

I can tell you here: I am racist. I benefit from the pervasive system of white supremacy which exercises systemic racism on a daily, hourly, minute-to-minute basis and has done for many, many centuries. I have internalised racism, especially from my family and upbringing. I have been a textbook perfect example of the model minority myth, which means I have contributed to the oppression of people of my own heritage, possibly also oppressing part of myself that I have never examined, but I have also been permitted access to all spaces and elite spheres of influence based on my well-behaved, educated, well-spoken, good immigrant appearance. I have been able to travel the world, and activate my privilege with a British passport. I have used my privilege as a henna professional to judge and condemn others for their henna choices, deciding who is and who isn’t a legitimate “professional” henna artist. And I have enabled the abuse of marginalised people with my silent fear of social damage. The experiences I could tell you if I didn’t feel bound by social etiquette would change the culture of idolatry within henna art, and my silence protects the abusive nature of some of these idols whom I have worshipped – I acknowledge my part in this enduring damage.

So. Are you able to truthfully tell me, or even tell yourself that you are absolutely Not Racist?

My viewpoint is that the sooner we can all face up to our racism (internalised, or well-meaning, or ill-intention, or otherwise), the sooner we can Get To Work on it. It serves none of us to waste valuable energy on denying its existence, believing [wrongly] that it is up for debate. Additionally, your denial is DAMAGING and traumatic for descendants of generations upon generations of oppressed Black, Indigenous, People of Colour. Let’s use the metaphor of the creepy Uncle who molested you – who you have to eat a family dinner with every Sunday. One day the family dinner conversation is to discuss the different nuances of sexual abuse, and a “spectrum” of consent (both words that I have heard to describe racism). Would this be acceptable to you? Would you agree with the dinner discussion that abuse is a spectrum? Or would you simply feel traumatised? BIPOC oppressed by systemic racism live day-to-day with the trauma of racism. It is not up for debate. It is a substantial fact of life that white people simply have never needed to carry. And now is the time to DO SOMETHING about it, not wring your hands worrying about getting it wrong.

Despite all the trauma-inducing repercussions that I naively didn’t prepare myself for, I have also experienced positive responses, reactions and [hopefully] a real chance at change through the ripple effect. I’ve been given a seat at the table to discuss how to make a safer, inclusive, intersectional space for the henna community. I have held deeply fulfilling conversations on understanding the omniprescence of racism. And in my self-education I have learned invaluable insights into the significance of identity and belonging that I have been able to apply not only to my own life, but also to my children’s. And for the first time ever, I am daring to maybe, possibly, tentatively allow myself to dream of a better, safe, and beautiful henna community.

Amplify Melanated Voices

Before you read the blog post, please consider making a donation to one or more of the following deserving causes:

Thanks for coming back for more. I thought maybe I might have scared you off. This will be a series of blog updates relating to the Black Lives Matter civil movement, journalling my self-education, and sharing with you my resources in case they can be of help to you if you are daunted by the momentous task at hand.

So… Where to even begin?

It turns out that I’ve been following a diversity agenda for quite some time. I’m not sure when it began, but I know that even my husband noticed it, commented on it, and has since been aware of it long enough to stop protesting against my biased choices. So, let’s start with…

A Recommended Reading List

The first thing I did once the 2020 #BLM civil rights movement began was buy books that had been sitting in my wish list for too long already. I’ve listed the 3 books I decided to start with in the order that I will be reading (listening) to them:

Thoughts I had while doing this:

  • I’m glad I’ve chosen authors with female experiences.
  • Why are there no recommendations for Chinese voices speaking about race and white privilege?
  • Will these books reflect my experience as a British born Chinese person?
  • Will these books even cover any history of the Chinese people in the British Empire?
  • Will I feel complicit in oppression once I’ve read these books?
  • Maybe I shouldn’t be contributing to Jeff Bezos’ billionaire fortunes by buying through Amazon – but oh wait Audible is free…
  • Guilt, from not paying for the audio books

My TV & Streaming Agenda

I’ve had a very clear #BlackLivesMatter viewing agenda for a few years. It was simple: If there was a black narrative in the show, I would prioritise it in my watchlist. Any other show would be the second choice unless there was an Asian lead or narrative, then everything is off the table (this happened a handful of times). Here are some of the things I’ve watched over the years. I’ll try to add a single line summary/review/thought for each one….

  • 13th (Netflix) – Ava DuVernay. Powerful documentary covering the history of Black lives in the US since the 13th amendment. Compulsory viewing (and the full feature is on YouTube for FREE – WOW – I’ll embed it for you up there ^^^)
  • When They See Us (Netflix) – Ava DuVernay. Based on a true story. Utterly heart-aching and traumatic. I had to only watch the first & last episode
  • Oprah Winfrey presents: When They See Us Now (Netflix). Oprah hosts a special conversation with the actors from When They See Us, along with the real men who were exonerated. Watch this first if you need to emotionally prepare
  • Trigger Warning with Killer Mike (Netflix). I chose this just for fun. I ended up having my eyes opened. This seemingly casual street show was not what I was expecting.
  • The Innocence Files (Netflix) – Watched with my husband to further my agenda of highlighting racial injustice. The eye witness testimony episode is a whole education
  • Iron Fists & Kung Fu Kicks (Netflix) – A lighthearted commentary on the links between Kung Fu movies and Black culture. I learned new interesting things.
  • Cloak & Dagger (Prime Video) – A lot of episodes. It’s a Marvel series. But you only need the scene from S1 Ep9
  • Noughts & Crosses (BBC iPlayer) – Based on a novel by Majorie Blackman about a world where the Crosses are the ruling class, and the Noughts are the oppressed. Notice how jarring it feels to see roles reversed.
  • Just Mercy (Cinema) – I love anything with Michael B. Jordan for his ability to bring vulnerability, sensitivity, and emotion to his roles (Creed, anyone?). He’s perhaps not the best casting for this role, but it’s an important story
  • Marshall (Netflix – no longer streaming UK) – Stars Chadwick Boseman as the man who became the first Black Supreme Court Judge in the US. Astounding what he had to go through.
  • Dear White People (Netflix) – Billed as a Comedy/Drama. There are Chinese and Korean people in this! Very beautiful young things. Covering the drama of activism on campus, and the difficulty of living a mixed-race experience. Disappointing season finale. I’m still grumpy about it.
  • Black Panther (Disney+) – Yes, it’s an action movie. A part of the Marvel Universe franchise, but as a cinematic/storytelling moment this moving picture [for me] ignited a new dream narrative for a better [albeit a fantasy comic book] existence for Black lives. I have never been so moved by a comic book story – and I doubt I ever will again.

There are other shows I’ve watched that were based around a Black narrative, but they were less education, more fictional and in some cases just didn’t inspire much thinking. I enjoy thought provoking entertainment. Plus frequent rom-com/chick flicks to switch off (hey, don’t judge).

A Diversified Social Media feed

Another slow process that’s taken me several years. I follow most of these inspiring accounts on my private and personal instagram account (and not my “work” account where I need to keep my head in check and focussed on specific tasks). These accounts have inspired me, moved me or educated me:

  • @cosmicgirlie – Jay Emme. She and I have been twitter friends since I was a new mum, so that’s anywhere up to 10 years at least if you factor in the haze of newborn-ness. Our key moment of friendship was when we tag-teamed to get MC Hammer’s attention on Twitter. I can’t explain the elation we felt when he replied: “I see you.” Jay is a fellow creative entrepreneur. She’s multi-talented in that she can do pretty much anything she chooses to set her mind to which you will see for yourself on her socials. She as a creative entrepreneur coach was the most instrumental voice in my decision to go full time with my henna business. We have yet to meet IRL.
  • @thekarenarthur – Karen Arthur and I also “met” on twitter. I still kinda think of her as ‘reddskingyal’. She was a teacher and bag designer/maker outside of her day job. Now she’s a full-time bespoke designer of the most beautiful creations. My goal is to own my own piece one day. She’s been through a beautiful metamorphosis and I look to her for normalising mature self-discovery. I look to her for inspiration on learning that I am the only person who can legitimise my credibility as an artist. I look to her for reassurance and comfort that this midlife transition is real and legit. I think of her #wearyourhappy movement when I choose my outfit for the day. I’m so awestruck when I see her booked to speak for inspiring talks at inspiring platforms.
  • @Humilta_1 – This is my friend Abigail. We’ve been friends IRL since our initiation into motherhood. We met at a mother and baby group, blindly navigating the path of keeping a tiny human alive. Abigail can frustrate me something rotten. She also makes me laugh so, so hard. She has the best laugh. She’s a writer. As her friend, I think she is much better than she credits herself for, and I long to push her into self-publishing more of her work so that the world can see it. But these things are part of her personal journey. Abigail has taught me that we all need friends who teach us how to accept different outlooks, yet still love each other dearly.
  • @jessicainthekitchen – Jessica Hylton-Leckie‘s vegan recipe book was the first vege/vegan cookbook I ever bought. It’s still the only one I repeatedly refer to. She was the first ‘influencer’ that made me feel that the transition to a vegetarian (and eventually one day vegan) diet was a flexible and attainable journey on my own terms. Her approach is inclusive and non-judgemental. Her recipes are delicious. My favourite is the coconut chickpea curry – a solid dish every single time. And her work ethic is clear to see from the beautiful website, socials, photography and print products. Thank you, Jessica, for making my personal dietary journey choices so much easier.
  • @colormecourtney – Courtney Quinn. I came across her early in 2019 when I was planning our first family holiday ever, to Disney World. She was frequently featured on Disney socials as one to follow. I started following her for her Disney content on @colormemagic, but I’ve stayed for her remarkably open approach to her influencer business. She hides nothing. She is legit clever (both in the commonsense definition and also the academic definition). She is hard-working. She has no delusions about who she is. She is not like me at all, which is not to say that we are opposites or that I feel inferior but more to say that she shows me that someone who identifies as A-sensitive (i.e. not insensitive, not highly sensitive – but something neutral in the middle of that spectrum) doesn’t create a narcissist (yes, that’s my trauma showing). Courtney shares SO MUCH valuable social media business content for FREE – it is clear that she understands that by helping everyone to raise their bar, she raises us all
  • @willdabeast – Incredible choreographer for an entire generation and movement in the dance and performance industry. Head of his own brand and business at a remarkably young age. When Will started to use his platform to draw attention to racism, and express his personal opinions I remember feeling it was raw and jarring. I ended up staying because he held his voice and his views steady, strong, unwavering and honestly.
  • @jenybsg – A fantastic Congolese choreographer working in Belgium with her dance foundation helping talented children around the world.
  • @breesherbalteas – Wife and Husband business team, locally based in Bingley creating and trading delicious and therapeutic herbal teas, and natural cordials. I’m addicted. I need to bulk buy.
  • @luminoussoullove – Sharr. I follow her for her work supporting empaths in business, because there is not a lot of good content covering this niche area imho. And as a person with anxiety in a creative business, I find her content reassuring that I’m not alone – and It Can Be Done.
  • @btravelcreators – @mybreakingviews – Have you ever needed to consider a country’s historic attitude to your skin colour before you travel? Check your privilege.
  • @thecurlycloset – Mary. I came across her IG because I went on a crusade searching for UK based curly hair bloggers for my friend who was lamenting her struggles managing her daughter’s mixed-race hair, which highlighted an existence I simply couldn’t fathom. So in an attempt to be helpful, I researched like crazy. I realised that I take for granted that I can wash my hair and just leave it. I sometimes complain that I need to style it (which takes roughly 20 minutes). Yet Black women very often cover their natural hair with wigs or weaves – non-Black people sometimes don’t even realise this – and then natural hair is criticised for being “inappropriate” – What?! Curly hair life is something I will never truly comprehend but I can try to learn more and I can amplify voices of those who do.
  • @ogorchukwuu – Ogor. Designer. Author of ‘The Geometry of being Black‘
  • @nedratawwab – Nedra Glover Tawwab, Therapist. Fantastic informative content
  • @kelechnekoff – Kelechi Okafor. Actor/Director. Strong, powerful and mother. Listen to her podcast
  • @ihartericka – Ericka Hart M.Ed. Black, queer, non-binary femme. Sex educator. Racial/Social/Gender justice disruptor. Breast Cancer survivor.
  • @shinebrightkaleyce – Kaleyce (pronounced Kah-lease). She is a teen Instagrammer – a shining beacon representing the future we need to nurture
  • @zozitunzi – Miss Universe, Miss Zimbabwe.
  • @chikalogy – Chika. Rapper. Artist. Just SO much talent. And so driven by the energy of that talent with an innate confidence that I wish we saw more in young Black women.
  • @fisayofosudo – I came across Fisayo’s IG when I was searching for reviews on the Samsung Galaxy Fold. It was on his socials that I came face to face with my own entrenched racism when I was shocked to see his footage from his surveying the public on the streets of Nigeria, to see if the public would be able to guess the price of the innovative folding handset. I then hopped over to his YouTube channel to find his slick content, his comprehensive tech reviews and the best hashtag ever #FoDaAdu.
  • @thefathersbook – When it finally dawned on me the difference in the race conversation that I have with my children, versus the one that parents give to their Black children. Buy the book.
  • @afrostylemagz – Stunning high fashion magazine
  • @in.hair.itance – An anachronistic celebration of the diversity, complexity & creativity of people of colour and how we choose to style, decorate & care for our hair
  • @osramba_media – Kwame Akoto.Educator/Cultural Activist. Work on #nkyinkyiminstallation. A powerful and moving evolving installation
  • @uhuru_mosiah_malcolm – Ancient Black and African History
  • Harmonia Rosales @honeiee – Stunning oil artist, employing Renaissance techniques to create empowering pieces reflecting and honouring the African diaspora
  • @marsaimartin – At 13 years old she became Hollywood’s youngest ever producer. Now 15 years old. And to finish…
  • @tinukebernard – Tinuke has compiled a flipping fantastic directory of 250 UK based Black influencers.

If you have made it to the end of this blog post, please feel free to give yourself a privileged pat on the back. Well done! (I mean it!) I hope you have found inspiration here; a place to donate to; a show to watch; and a book to read.

Please. Take mental breaks and emotional rest when you need to. And then Keep Doing the Work. It’s tiring. It’s relentless. But it is a privilege to learn about racism and oppression, and not experience it.