Thoughts from the criminology team

Ignorance, thoughtlessness and apathy are only three of the terms that come to mind when I think about the implementation of the Black postboxes, four across the country: in England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland, respectively. However, in the past few years, particularly, the last few months since the pandemic, I think many of us, regardless of our ethnic backgrounds have had enough symbolic gestures to last a lifetime – from ‘clap for our carers’ (albeit enjoyed by some but really of no real substance) to those female traffic lights. In this epilogue of George Floyd, with a resurgence to decolonise the curriculum, some brightspark thought four Black postboxes would be a good idea to commemorate Black History Month this year.

Postboxes aside, those that they are commemorating have a right to be remembered, though “a bit of copout” in my opinion, and a very easy escape from using these postboxes to discuss any of the less ‘acceptable’ histories… i.e the Cardiff Race Riots (1919) or the Bechuanaland Chiefs (1895)

Black Lives Matter has left many of us in our communities nationwide in deep reflection and introspection, that we really do not know the legacy of Black contributions to the world, particularly to Britain. Walter Tull and Mary Seacole are known, particularly the latter. (Sir) Lenny Henry (CBE) is very safe and indicative of the “good Black British history” that is easy (not too political, not too angry). What these three have in common is their seemingly “non-threateningness”, which fits patrial British depictions of Black people, as if it was pulled from the reels of one of those Old Hollywood films – versions of Black ‘tolerated’ by the ‘great and the good.’

In the thick of the biggest anti-Black racism movement in history, rallied behind the message of “stop killing Black people”, we are subject to more nonsensical symbolic gestures, virtue signalling and performative allyship.

Embedded in the recommendations made in the Wendy Williams Windrush Lessons Learned review (2020) into the Windrush Scandal, included a critique on the lack of institutional memory pertaining to the British Empire, the history of inward and outward migration, and the history of Black Britons. She further talks about an unwillingness to learn from the past, utilise experts, or engage communities. These postboxes are indicative of institutions that think they know it all, and is reminiscent of the Home Office’s blunder with the chicken boxes raising awareness of knife crime.

In Alt History, Professor David Olusoga says “Black people have been living in this country for centuries and the story of the Black presence in the United Kingdom goes all the way back to Roman times.” There are over 100,000 postboxes in the UK and the use of just four is really a tokenistic handout at best. Imagine commemorating the entirity of Black British history like that when this history goes back to Roman times – from Ivory Bangle Lady (middle-class Black woman living in 4th century York) to Quintus Lollius Urbicus, Governor of Britain in 139-142 CE suprervising the construction of the Antonine Wall in Scotland (Adi, 2019: 4).

In four postboxes, the ominous “they” are telling us that Black lives still don’t matter and they are happy with that. The Black nurses that saved the NHS post-WW2; Black soldiers that fought in WW1/WW2 and at Trafalgar; the Black enslaved that died on plantations to give Britain the British Museum and many national trust homes; the lawyers, doctors and civil servants during the interwar years; the Black people that resisted and rebelled against colonial power at every chance; the Black Tudors in the time of Henry VIII; and the Afro-Romans in Beachy Head and South Shields, and those that stood vigil atop Hadrian’s Wall for the best part of 350 years.

In a country where Black people have been present and contributed to some of the most significant parts in British history… let’s give them four postboxes and pat ourselves on the back… I guess you can say I am fuming and I am bitter.

Referencing

Adi, H. (2019) In: Adi, H (ed.) Black British History: New Perspectives. London: ZED Books, pp. 1-14. ​

Home Office. (2020). Windrush Lessons Learned. (Chair: Wendy Williams). London: TSO.

After the murder of George Floyd in May 2020, Sky Sports did a segment on racism, using testimony from veteran West Indies cricketer Michael Holding and former-England women’s cricketer Ebony Rainford-Brent. Whilst the story of racism and West Indies cricket is known to me through films like Fire in Babylon, the inclusion of Brent, showed me how little media attention women’s sports receives, particularly cricket. This is still a man’s world, even when men and women have been victims of the same pandemic of racism.  

When I look at the history of sports in England, the inclusion of women is presented as a new phenomenon, despite a 1921 ban on women’s football by the FA in England that lasted decades. A ban on women’s football matches taking places on pitches owned by the Football Association. Institutional violence in sports in the 1920s. Furthermore, is there a Black women’s history here too? I have heard whisperings of an Emma Clarke of the 1890s who may be the first Black woman footballer. Interesting indeed.

Men’s football (and sports), also however, go back over a hundred years. Football has been the go-to for stories of racism in sports and the story of Walter Tull has almost become folk tale and a token symbol of racism in football for Black History Month campaigns up and down the country. Walter was born in Folkestone, Kent, in 1888 and went on to have a glowing career playing for both Tottenham Hotspurs and Northampton Town (Cobblers). Additionally, he was the first mixed-race officer of African heritage in the British Army. At Northampton in 1911, he would have

started under Herbert Chapman – “a manager sympathetic to the additional pressures faced by the few players of colour in the professional game” (Vasili, 2010: 102).  

Whilst Walter Tull has been the token for examples of men of colour in team sports, historically, he by far wasn’t the only the Black or Brown player, in late Victorian early Edwardian Britain. Unknown to many, looking at how his story is told in popular consciousness, he was also an avid cricketer and was one of many men of colour that played during this time. One of the big fish of Victorian cricket was K. S Ranjitsinhji, “a thin-built Indian prince who used his willow bat and body to produce fleeting moments of wonder and lasting memories of beauty” (Vasili, 2010: 127).

Vasili also writes of English-speaking Caribbeans playing cricket in England. We must remember this contradicts populist memory of Caribbeans first coming to England in 1948. In early Edwardian Britain, there was a thriving population of Black middle-class doctors:  

With the existence of other Black and Brown sports players, with their accomplishments, I would argue the constant parading of Walter Tull is problematic. His story is an achievement in the face of adversity but it offends me that our schools do not all look past his story at other Black/Brown sports players in late Victorian/Edwardian Britain. We also know of a Manchurian James Peters, playing rugby for the England team in 1907 and 1908. This narrative in Britain goes as far as there was enough for them to make an argument, the constant focus on Tull is without merit:

“African-American racing cyclist Marshall Taylor beat British and continental opponents in 1902; South African boxer Andrew Jeptha won a world title in 1907; and ex-slave Bobby Dobbs fought in Britain 1898, returned in 1902 […]” (Vasili, 2010: 129).  

While today we have Black boxing champions like Anthony Joshua, the legacy of Black pugilists goes back to the 18^th century in Georgian Britain, where men like Bill Richmond would be enticed by Britain’s boxing culture, not before “he began his independent life in Britain serving as an apprenticed cabinet maker” (Olusoga, 2017: 98). It was later in life he starts his rivalry with Tom Cribb. In a sport that made the careers of Black activists such as Muhammad Ali, “not only did early pugilists fight without gloves, but practices outlawed in modern boxing, such as shoulder-charging […] were all regarded as legitimate tactics” (Williams, 2015: 63).

Now, in this time where many celebrate Black excellence, the common argument is there are not enough positive Black male role models in history for young Black boys today because Black British history is one enveloped by slavery and immigration. But the existence of Black sports players – those that came here and those that were born here – tell stories of free Blacks, ex-slaves and their descendants that are part of British history and succeeded, from football and rugby to athletics, cricket and cycling.  

Positive Black role models for Black men today are there in British history books. Simply, they are needles in haystacks, on the outside of the frame as something “other” or “different – not seen as worthy of academic scholarship or interrogation. However, those interested only need to make the effort and look for it. We cannot be what we cannot see and my references also speak to a profession (History) that is dominated by (white) men and in its lack of diversity is an indictment on the industry at large.

Black men’s (hi)stories in sports go back 150 years. Yet, what about the Emma Clarke and Rainford-Brent characters of today, for young Black girls that want to see themselves? History is written by the conquerors, not the conquered, and the conquerors, even in sports, are almost always men.  

Referencing  

Olusoga, D (2017). Black and British. London: Pan Books.  

Vasili, P (2010). Walter Tull, 1888 – 1918: Officer, Footballer. London: Raw Press.  

Williams, L (2015). Richmond Unchained. London: Amberley. 

These same individuals, women that are smart and innovative are told by authority figures, including academics, that they are lazy and don’t apply themselves – are running businesses out of their halls. Black women sent white male astronauts into space in 1969; Black women also invented CCTV and laser cataract treatment. Knowing this, in the face of a double-figure Black awarding gap at UK universities (Barradale, 2020), I was not surprised to see they were running businesses out of their halls, with online shops – cake businesses, clothing alterations, and the big one – wigs and weave, and hair products.

Currently, I know a good many Black women turning lemons into lemonade. Through the Coronavirus pandemic there are Black entrepreneurs, like their white counterparts, trying to make a living, make money and get ahead. Yet, their white colleagues won’t be judged for it. However, the “motivation to create a business can spring from the most interesting of places, and for a variety of reasons” (Uviebinené, 2019: 157).

For the women I met when I was an undergraduate student and then as a member of university staff, it was a way to escape the colonising imperatives of whiteness within the institutional frameworks of Britain. Moreover, that despite historic stereotypes of laziness still being on the ascent for Black people, Black women “are achieving additional qualifications and gaining work experience” (ibid). The students I knew were driven and inspiring, graduating and then going on to run businesses, using Instagram and social media as a tool for economic prosperity.  

Seeing many Black women in business it looks incredibly strenusous, as systemic misogynoir permeates all of society – a form of discrimination specific to Black women where race and gender both play roles of bias (Bailey, 2010).

The concept of Black successes of both women and men in a society that is institutionally racist is an achievement of monumental proportions, as neoliberalism runs rampant. Bhopal (2019) argues that “within a neoliberal context, policy making has failed in its attempts to champion inclusion and social justice, and in doing so has further marginalised the positions of black and minority ethnic groups.” She discusses that policy making in its current form affirms the position of white people at the expense of those from various Black and Brown backgrounds, in a society where individuals are privileged for being white over those who are not.

White privilege exists and the fact there are successful Black female businesspeople shows the system designed to subjugate the Black race’s success and humanity has failed. In these still very white spaces, do the Black entrepreneurs that break the glass ceiling allow people up behind them, or do they rescind the ladder?

Do they put their money where their mouth is to help their people? Stormzy heads publishing house #MerkyBooks, priding itself on platforming Black authors. Additionally, he funds Black students to go to Cambridge every year. Do those “allowed” to enter Buckingham Palace to be named Member of the British Empire [MBE] see themselves as Black, or does the “acceptance” of the establishment allow them to forget where they came from? I wonder if money and fortune give some Black business-owners a blinkered mindset to concepts like community and togetherness.  

Modern questions of success and business aside, let’s take a step back and reflect on the past. Black success in business or any other industry is not a new concept. Simply, it is treated as a new phenomenon within the colonial gaze of the white western world:  

Whilst the students I met as an undergrad and then as a staff member were anomalies in accordance to Eurocentric stereotypes of Africans, when you look into the depths of African history one will find that people of the continent are smart and hardworking and innovative and gracious and protective, and so much more, and always have been. In this history, we will begin to understand how Black British people today relate to themselves. This first begins with gaining “a clearer understanding” of other cultures “that is not warped through the biases of colonial documentation” (Dabiri, 2019: 36).

As seemingly corporations want to diversify their workforce and more Black and Brown people seek to go into business, this means having conversations of race and culture away from the proximity of whiteness. When businesses take an anti-racist approach to their everyday, including culture and history, they will see their income increased tenfold.  

Referencing  

Bailey, M. (2010). They aren’t talking about me… — the crunk feminist collection. Available from: http://www.crunkfeministcollective.com/2010/03/14/they-arent-talking-about-me/ 

Barradale, G. (2020). Revealed: New stats show how wide the black attainment gap is at your uni. Available from: https://thetab.com/uk/2020/06/17/revealed-new-stats-show-how-wide-the-black-attainment-gap-is-at-your-uni-162142 

Bhopal, K. (2018) White Privilege: The Myth of a Post-Racial Society. Bristol: Policy Press. 

Dabiri, E (2019). Don’t Touch My Hair. London: Allen Lane.  

Uviebinené, E and Adegoke, Y (2019). Slay in Your Lane. London: 4^th Estate