Too Black if I do, too Blac

k if I don’t

So.

I started my classes properly last Monday. What I mean by properly is that I advertised them openly. In November leading up to Christmas I did a six-week stint for my regulars who kept connected during the pandemic. It’s going to cost me, well more like it will break-even if I don’t pay myself!!! Most small business owners know this. But I’ve decided to continue. The reason I am ‘going it alone’ is because I don’t have a choice. I don’t believe I’ve been given a choice. I’ve been deprived of choices. 

Oh poor me. #victim

To say I’m different is well…true. At school, I played with everyone. I hung out with all sorts. I don’t think I was the butterfly type. Maybe more the busy bee going from flower to flower, orchard to meadow to hive. It was fun. A very open-minded kid I guess. Some years ago on facebook a former school friend stated “Angela, you always dance to the beat of your own drum”. It was a funny thing to hear/read. But I guess that’s how he saw me. And I guess that’s how I feel the safety of Chisenhale, a place for drums.

I’m actually writing this at seven in the morning, lying on my back in bed, one finger swiping on the keyboard in Notes on my phone. Why? Because I didn’t sleep. Not because of my racist miserable upstairs neighbour who doesn’t like my noise i.e. just living noise (for the record I only have telephone and video meetings, hardly ever play any music, and hardly have any visitors) and so puts out sound waves which disrupt my sleep. No. It was due to me thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking about the times I have been made to feel not the right type of black.

Not sure how I ought to be presenting.

I’ve been interviewed several times and two people, in particular, have not published the interview. One of them said, “there was no sound for the footage”. The other said that he has been “busy”. I was disappointed. I naively took their reasons at face value at first because they reached out to me and because they were Black. As time progressed following their socials I realised their excuses were to mask their choice to actually not publish me. I saw that I didn’t fit their profile. They have a particular narrative and it seems that I didn’t fit. My face just didn’t fit.

Now, I’m OK with rejection. I’m old and ugly enough to see this as a part of life. The thing that has brought a tear to my eye – quite literally this morning. The reason for me swiping on my phone now – is the feeling that I’m not good enough to fit their mould. 

When in fact, I’m probably too good enough.

I am able to exist and thrive in spaces that go from hostile to homely and not comprise my blackness without breaking, folding, conceding, being respected and referenced, not having to protest my existence to just be. 

If the price of being celebrated by my people is to play the game of black, then Angela, you will not be celebrated.

If being black means I have to wear a headwrap and loop earrings, wear large waist-length box braids, have eyelash extensions, wear an ankh cross, lace wig, wear red black and green, then Angela you will not be accompanied.

If black means I have to not frequent non-blacks, write detailed posts about the time somebody or something did that to me, call out, call in, put on blast, boycott, then Angela you will not be supported. 

I am all and none of these. I embrace and reject all of these. I am human, and my humanity comes before any of your judgement.

If being black means I have to conform to the black that you expect, then you’re all no better than Susan Hussey. Lady.

So.  

Yes.

#keeponkeepingon #unapologeticallyblack #blacklindyhoppersoflondon

Please support my work paypal.me/cookiesjam.

Thank you.

.

oh yeah,

p.s. Black people. come to my class www.lindyhopeastldn.co.uk #supportblackbusiness

Signed

Angela 🙂 xx