Sincerely, Saskia

I am the proud auntie of one small and impressionable young human being, who I would, of course, do anything for. But when I got a request from my sister to teach her a bit about Black history month, I was a bit stumped.

As she lives up north in a predominantly Asian area, her school had nothing planned for her or the other mixed and Black kids in her class. Now, this could be because she’s in reception and it’s not in their curriculum, but I get why that didn’t sit right with my sister.

Since she’s been staying with me for half term, my sister thought it would be a good idea to sit her down and explain some of the basics, but all I could think of was how do I make Black history manageable for a four-year-old whose only interests are Disney princesses, the colour pink and Rumi from K-pop Demon Hunters?

Now, it’s not like Disney doesn’t tackle complex issues disguised in song but in the request, I realised I was never really taught about Black history as a kid, so I had no frame of reference to go off from her perspective.

All my mum told of Black history was Black is beautiful, white people are somewhat questionable – I’m rephrasing because she was not that cordial – and that she wouldn’t trade in being Black for anything.

Is the focus on Black excellence versus Black history a good enough education? 

Living in Portsmouth for most of my educational years, school definitely failed me in that aspect, and when I moved back to London at the age of 14 – once again surrounded by people who looked like me – I felt like I was expected to already know everything. So, that’s why I taught myself.

There are still gaps in my knowledge and I learn something new every day, but the fact I’m so painfully aware of the disgusting injustices Black people still face to this day from George Floyd to Belly Mujinga to Breonna Taylor, knowing that colonialism still hinders us, that systemic racism is a bigger enemy of progress than people would have you believe, and that so many countries still see us as a problem, how do I inform her whilst still empowering her and without killing her spirit? The fact she’s mixed as well, how do I broach that you can still love your white side despite the history and current state of things?

Do I start with the American civil war? The Black Panthers and Malcolm X? Do I start with King and the dream he had or Rosa Parks and the bus? Do I start with Windrush? The commonwealth? Barrack and Michelle Obama? Black Lives Matter? 

Even when I googled educational texts to give me a bit of a hand, they were all aimed at 7 and above. She reads those adorable little books that spotlights all the greats, with the Stevie Wonder one being her favourite – she loves Part Time Lover – but is the focus on Black excellence versus Black history a good enough education? 

For now, I think it is.

When I take a look at my niece’s life, the things she’s surrounded by and the things she consumes, she’s not even close to being short of positive representation. Halle Bailey’s Ariel doll is pride of place in her collection, one of her favourite Disney movie’s is The Princess and the Frog – although she’s afraid of the Shadow Man – when her mum does her hair she talks her through the beauty of it, even though sometimes it hurts her. She lives in a diverse area where her default surroundings aren’t shrouded in whiteness, and I genuinely believe that all of these things help close the divide that my siblings and I didn’t get to experience.

Growing up for us, seeing one Black person in our favourite TV shows was a moment to take notice of, but she’s growing up in a time where she doesn’t have to take notice of someone like her on TV because it doesn’t have to be an event. Despite my feelings about how far we still need to go in many aspects of society and culture, her history – modern history – tells a slightly different story that the Black history I know has helped facilitate.

Of course, there’s going to be bigger conversations surrounding privilege and appropriation and all those sticky subjects but, despite not having the most detailed Black history lessons in my youth, I also never got the lesson that I couldn’t achieve, prosper, dream big or have a place in any room.

Black history month, of course, reminds us how far we’ve come, but it also celebrates how much we’ve achieved, community, breaking boundaries and taking up space. And when she finally does have the attention span to listen and take in my words without asking if she can watch Wicked, that’s where I think I’ll start.