I’ve been seeking people, groups and organisations that I can become part of.
After a life changing anti-racism training session, which I no longer call it as such, where I realised that what I’ve been doing is really just continuing to centre whiteness and uphold white supremacy culture through this training, I feel the need to not be alone any longer in my views and activism.
I need comrades and solidarity in action.
This search for my tribe has seen me reaching out to the Revolutionary Communist Party( RCP) and the Revolutionary Communist Group – Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism, The Ella Baker School of Organising and their recent conference in London titled Defeating Narratives of Division and just yesterday, attending a meeting of the North East Anti-Racism Coalition. Let’s explore each of these experiences in turn as there has been much learning as well as clarification of where I stand in the mix.
First, my main concern around the anti-racism training I’d been doing for the last five years was that it wasn’t looking at the class system, oppression through class which is a result of capitalism. It really isn’t critical enough, or even analysing capitalism and how this is our common enemy. Through focusing on whiteness, white privilege and white supremacy culture is fails to acknowledge and really get to the roots of what and where racism came about. Race was the creation of the rich landowners afraid of the workers, both black and white, rising up and revolting. So they created the elevated status of whiteness, and the white class to bestow certain right and privileges on to the poor white workers who shipped over to the Americas for a better life form England as a means of separating them from this black workers they were so recently working side by side with. To continue to maximise profit through brutal working conditions the white working class was created, whiteness was now at the top of the hierarchy and could weld power over black workers who were once their comrades and fellow sufferers.
I realised that the common enemy is capitalism. We may have differences but we can find that common ground and come together to fight for better lives and conditions, or even destroy the whole capitalist system as then everyone, every worker would be better off. The means of production and money and gains within society would the shared out equally to all members of community. No one would be ruling over another, no bourgeois as Marxists would say.
I was looking for comrades and solidarity not allyship so I started to explore the Revolutionary Communist Party UK which split off from the Revolutionary Communist Group ( Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism) in 1978. I’ve been exploring them both really once I established the distinction between them. I’ve reached out to both, subscribed to the newspaper, Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism and bought some books. I must say it’s kind of like a labyrinth to try and get involved. The need for some connection or someone to just respond in an email what they are doing and how someone like me could get involved was needed. They want to talk to you on the phone and share what they are doing and almost interview me in terms of what I’m looking for or do or think. I’ve felt at times as if I was being tested for something.
Then I received a long essay to read. Marxism ‘v’ Identity Politics, which is what the RCP stands behind and I assume RCG ( FRFI) do also. It’s a long read but I persevered. From the beginning by back was up because they were talking about women, and women being slaves to men and being oppressed before capitalism was created. I got the feeling that when they were mentioning women they were referring to white women. But I read on. And in all honesty I cannot stand behind this document if this is what Marxist and Communists stand for.
I know within this document , it is repeated that Marxists stand against all oppressions and yet it still uses the language of the oppressor in terms of using ‘immigrants and non-whites’ and ‘oppressed minorities’ . I find its tone offensive, condescending and dismissive.
Failing to acknowledge that Third World/ Black Feminism has always been about fighting all oppressions for the betterment of all, being anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist etc. I feel where feminism is mentioned within the article it is just referring to white feminism.
I do take on board and agree to a certain degree that intersectionality and identity politics are divisive. I have tended to adopt an intersectional approach to issues now. But I have to take issue with the lack of respect and care demonstrated towards people’s difference within the piece. It almost feels as if the document is calling people who fight along identity lines against oppression as stupid or near sighted and just thinking of the individual.
There is a case for being forceful and adamant about what Marxism stands for, but I just didn’t feel the care and kindness and joy within the piece which I seek within any movement I am part of.
So I’ve left my Marxist/ Communist involvements there as they focus on the workers, as capitalism, imperialism, colonialism are the problems, we can come together and fight together on but not at the expense of love as the foundation. I felt the love and joy at the recent Defeating Narratives of Division conference in London with the Ella Baker School of Organising but I think this was coming directly from the creatives present as well as the gay and trans-people present. That’s how we want our movement to feel, joyful , respectful and loving and caring for each other. I am still waiting to hear back from the organisers of this conference in how I can get more involved.
Finally, yesterday I took a trip to Hartlepool to attend the North East Anti-Racism Coalition gathering so find out what they are all about and up to. Formed in 2024, they aim to make the North East a region that actively opposes racism and hatred based on religious identity. I was interested in finding out about their journey this far, what they stand for and what are their next steps. It was well attended, with the majority of people being white. After details about how the coalition has developed and where they see things going focusing on campaigns, membership, raising awareness and learning, we were tasked, our tables, to introduce ourselves and why we were there. I was the only black person on the table and while I said I was there to agitate, others were there to gain information to take back to their organisations, maybe not realising that they were also there to give not just take. But let’s go on.
Next was the keynote speaker, Matt Storey from Cleveland Office of the Police and Crimes Commission. He gave a powerful speech about how diversity within the region is a positive, a strength and how they are standing up against the racist riots of last summer, but he frequently referred to people of the global majority within the region as immigrants, or refugees and asylum seekers, people who had come here on boats so to speak, not once referring to the black and brown people who were born here in the UK, or the region who have been here for hundreds of years. For me this is just playing into the narrative that we do not belong here. There was talk of fighting and defending these diverse groups of people, again falling into the white savourism narrative. I am not your victim, I do not need saving, I need comrades and solidarity. We don’t need any more heroes thank you.
From here it was to get into working groups to focus on such things as membership, campaigns, learning hubs, and research. Let’s just say something about their research. It was billed as if the coalition was going to share some research. The person presenting their findings another white person came to the conclusion that more research was needed and was beyond the scope of the working group and should be taken on board by the wider/ whole coalition. The research proposed, you guess it, a survey of black and brown people in the region to share their experiences of racism. It can be done anonymously but if you give your contact details you will be put into a prize draw to win £100 in shopping vouchers. So please share with your networks as the deadline is 18 July.
Of course everything I’ve just said there about the survey is done in a sarcastic tone as I am not promoting people of the global majority in the region to complete this survey as from my point of view there is plenty of research completed which demonstrate racism exists. Maybe they want some up to date data after the riots of 2024, but still I’m sure there is research out there where they wouldn’t have to exploit or expect us to share our experiences once more or fall into this habit of having to prove it exists once again. There was no mention or indication as to what this research would be used for afterwards either.
I joined the campaign working group to see what was happening there. One question we talked about in smaller groups was how can we build better connections across difference. Things that came up was attempting to find that common ground, where there is mutuality over issues that we can come together on and work together on to bring about change for everyone. Yes I can get behind this.
But then, from the few other black and brown people who were part of this small group, I got the impression that is was a competition to share as many stories and instances of when and where they experienced racism. Of course the white people in the group were lapping this up but I felt it was again a way to prove that racism exists and is happening or has been happening within the region for generations. And this is true, but for me I am past trying to convince anyone that racism exists. For me it is a given, let’s move on. For me it’s just treading water.
And the last point, from another group’s feedback, a white woman speaking said that it would be really important for building connections to hear first hand from black and brown people about their lived experiences around racism. It helps others to understand it, she said. And I disagreed saying it just re-traumatises someone to retell their experiences of racism again and again to strangers, no doubt. A black man disagreed stating that we should be sharing, telling our stories. And I just said well from personal experience, I’d rather not be triggered and again it’s as if we are spending our energy on trying to prove it exists. That racism exists. I’d rather focus on our joy, black joy which white people do fin threatening but at least ti would demonstrate we’re not just cardboard cut outs created to experience race and racism.
After this I left. I left early because I’d had enough. I felt as if I was on different page to people who where at the event. I know it’s not an either/ or, it’s a both/and. But for me what was lacking was listening to each other. People were talking over each other, people were there to take at the same time as be heard, but there wasn’t much giving and listening.
I know I’m a lone wolf in terms of being fugitive. In terms of the way I think and operate. I listen and consolidate and try to meet a consensus but there was just not enough respect and comradeship within the room for me. It was very transactional and very little care and love and kindness.
So I’m still on the hunt for my tribe. I wanted to contribute to whatever was happening already. Contribute to the flow already happening. But as of yet I have not found this space. Maybe need to create my own that can hold all the contradictions and differences but is build on solidarity, respect, kindness, care and love.
I first ventured into Iceland 9 years ago to heal after the shit hit the fan episode. Taking the risk to travel around an island I didn’t know alone built up my confidence and belief in myself. I felt better and ready to start over after that first visit.
Now after my 5th or 6th visit to Iceland, she’s done it again. She’s helped me heal. She’s filled my pot once more with curiosity and love and I’m so grateful for the care she’s shown me.
It was shocking weather while away. Rain every day. But I’m not complaining as I had the gear to protect me. And on my last day on my trip to Sky Lagoon, there was rain, hail , snow, sun and a cold wind all within a matter of hours of each other. It was wild. I was lucky to be walking in it all at the time and I got sore teeth. Because I was grinning like the big kid I am through it all.
I’m not sure when or if I’ll return to Iceland again. I hope I do. But I have strict instructions to take Miss Ella next time. Until then, I’m more than happy to relive the memories and experiences of this trip. There might be some writing and creations I’ll be sharing here over the coming months as I work through them all.
i try to connect beauty using words as healers of possibilities from the state within, the voice, a teacher, a sage, where my poetry winters, where I can see the ‘I’ like a clearing through the trees, where imagination lingers inch wide mile deep, conjuring for change and connection. i try language, not to trick or demonstrate my intellect, but to spark simple, stretching blossoms into ‘we’ rather than ‘them and us’. from the state without, i’m a beast, caged and muzzled. swallowed. cornered and supposedly cowered, i come out writing, wading into dangerous waters, owning my imagination to practice potential futures.
*“An ars poetica poem is a poem examining the role of poets themselves as subjects, their relationships to the poem, and the act of writing.” —Poets.org
Letting my brain catch up with the happening, I allow my heart to stop for an instant. Feeling unmoored to make sense, far too soon.
If only I had saw it coming. If only someone had thought to talk to me before this. Maybe things would be different, maybe the wound wouldn’t cut so deep.
Needing to rewind the clocks, to go back to that ignorant bliss, that season of love and acceptance, is a fool’s wish.
Under the avalanche of words, I move silent into the dark night, to piece myself back together following a different schema, charting an undiscovered course.
Okay where to begin.. That has been the issue – worried about where to begin has stopped me beginning. But now I’ve got to begin as I need to get it out of me onto the page, in order to create some kind of sense of it all. So maybe I’ll begin with the Combahee River Collective (CRC).
I’m diving into the realms of Black Feminism- thought and theory and practices.
I’ve already been in the thick of it for years, with me first coming to Black Feminism through my degree and then masters and then this forming the foundation really of my PhD when I traced the tradition of Black British Women’s Poetry. But retaining knowledge and theory is difficult when I keep putting new things in my brain.
I don’t want to be an expert on Black Feminism but I do want to revisit it and consider it’s premise again in light of recent readings and experiences.
So I begin with the Combahee River Collective Statement, 1977. And I’m not saying that this is the beginning of Black Feminism. But I’m using it as a marker along the way. I figure if I keep this statement in clear view, using it like a signpost then I can’t stray too far off the path.
This exploration of Black Feminist thought is going to be a new folder within this website’s portfolio as this is area of research is something I plan to keep returning back to and adding to as I continue to re-familiarise as well as extend my thinking and practices around Black Feminism.
So what is the Combahee River Collective Statement all about. Well first you can was the full statement here.
It has been argued that this statement issue by a collective of Black women in Boston in 1977 who came together after witnessing an recognising the racism within the women’s movement and the sexism within the race/ civil rights movement, was based on the reality that Black women’s experiences cannot be reduced to either race or gender but have to be understood on their own terms.
Combahee River Collective Statement introduced to the world terms such as “interlocking oppression” and “identity politics.” Formed in 1974, The Combahee River Collective (CRC) was a radical Black feminist organisation which took it’s name from Harriet Tubman’s 1853 raid on the Combahee River in South Carolina that freed 750 enslaved people.
It might have been The Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989 who coined the phrase “intersectionality” but it was CRC who articulated the analysis that underpins the meaning of intersectionality. The idea that multiple oppressions reinforce each other to create new categories of suffering, these interlocking oppressions, happening simultaneously, renders the Black woman’s position in society unique and most direr.
As the statement begins:
“The most general statement of our politics at the present time would be that we are actively committed to struggling against racial, sexual, heterosexual, and class oppression, and see as our particular task the development of integrated analysis and practice based upon the fact that the major systems of oppression are interlocking. The synthesis of these oppressions creates the conditions of our lives. As Black women we see Black feminism as the logical political movement to combat the manifold and simultaneous oppressions that all women of color face.”
It goes on to state:
“Merely naming the pejorative stereotypes attributed to Black women (e.g., mammy, matriarch, Sapphire, whore, bulldagger), let alone cataloguing the cruel, often murderous, treatment we receive, indicates how little value has been placed upon our lives during four centuries of bondage in the Western Hemisphere. We realize that the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation are us. Our politics evolve from a healthy love for ourselves, our sisters and our community which allows us to continue our struggle and work”.
CRC comes to the conclusion that:
“We might use our position at the bottom, however, to make a clear leap into revolutionary action. If Black women were free, it would mean that everyone else would have to be free since our freedom would necessitate the destruction of all the systems of oppression”.
And this would come to pass through the practice of the revolutionary politics of Black Feminism.
*not so mush a trigger warning but saying it anyways!
I am worthy of consent. I am safe. I can heal from sexual trauma. – Lyvonne Briggs
I’m writing. Or is it rambling? I’m not sure. It’s just that I’m reading at the moment. I’m in my cave (bed) hibernating and I’m reading so many different books. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry and there’s a cross over with what’s happening within my life with my reading ( Does that happen to you?). There’s an echo or a reinforcement for the things that are causing me grief at the moment, worrying the wound as I read and rest.
So writing things out, going long is a way of making sense of it all in the moment. It’s a way of gaining some kind of clarity for now. Not thinking of the future but thinking of gathering the threads at this moment to made make a something out of this mess of yarns.
My mum died when I was 27 years old. I’d just become a mother the year before. I’ve been hearing about the ‘mother wound’ lately. I’m not sure if I understand it completely. But when I hear it, I don’t jump into definitions and theories. For me it’s simply means when my mum died and left me to cope alone. Selfish I know. But I feel as is she left a gaping, bleeding wound that festers and hurts when I worry it. When I press on it, inspect it with my touch.
This morning, following my morning routine, in bed reading (with coffee skipped ahead this morning) I’m reading Sensual Faith: The Art of Coming Home to Your Body by Lyvonne Briggs. I’m reading a section called ‘Surthrivors’ a term Briggs created to try and capture how she was feeling, living after male sexual violence. She felt ‘survivor’ was too flat to describe/ define her experience when she was living/doing what she loved studying theology and religion, in community with loving people and was an acclaimed spoken word and slam poet. “I wasn’t just surviving, I was thriving!” Briggs wrote, hence pointing the more accurate term, ‘Surthrivor’. I love it when we Black women bend and twist language, divest from the standard to better express/ more fully express our feelings and experiences. That’s creative fugitivity for you (thank you Dal).
Briggs goes on to talk about how she got into the ministry so she could change how the church handles sexual abuse, not very well, as there is a silence around it. Or they blame demons instead of the actually men. I’m not here to talk about male sexual abuse. I’m not her to talk about the church. I’m not a religious person. I was brought up saying my prayers. I remember a black bible, creased leather, brought from Trinidad and Tobago with my dad when he stowed away to England. This black bible sat toad-like in the teak sideboard of my childhood living room. West Indian style living room, I may add. I gave up believing in a ‘God’ when my daddy died when I was 9 years old. I’ve now come around to the idea that we are Gods/ Goddesses ourselves, inside us. I’m spiritual rather than religious. So I’m not sure why I’m reading this book.
I lie. Yes I do know why I’m reading Sensual Faith. I followed a trail to this book left by Christina Cleveland and God is a Blackwoman. But also because of the subheading of Sacred Faith: The Art of Coming Home to Your Body, is a journey I always seem to be on.
Anyway. Back to the reading this morning which went on to discuss the worship centre in a church is called the ‘sanctuary’. When you the word ‘sanctuary’, does anyone else think of Quasimodo? ‘Sanctuary, sanctuary!’
A ‘sanctuary’ is a safe or holy place. I wrote a poem titled ‘sanctuary’ and it was about my mum. My mum’s home, body, arms. When she was alive, it was her I went to for safe harbour. I didn’t realise until she was gone. It has come a way for me to practice mothering my own children, through sanctuary for them. Once my mum died, I lost who and where I could return to for safety. I lost my home, my sanctuary when she died and I suppose I’ve been searching for sanctuary ever since, looking outside myself, looking for it in others ( husband for one!)
I don’t how long I’ve been in battle with my being, with my body, chastising her for not being enough. But also for being too much. Too fat. Too broad, too Black. But over the last few years, eyes open, something has been changing or shifting within me and how I view, treat and talk to my body. . Maybe that’s where my mum did me a disservice and where I’m making amends with my kids. I’m not sure she taught me how to find sanctuary within myself, within my own body.
Monday nights I dread. Not always. Just the last few months as I complete my level 3 diploma in counselling skills. I’m not jesting that I hate turning up for this course. And I never use ‘hate’ as a word usually, always thinking it’s too strong a word for a feeling. Too final without any redeeming features. But this is where we’ve got to with this course.
And it wasn’t always the case. I could blame the dark, cold nights I have to turn up for 3 hours of lecturing and talking in an empty, sterile office block. I could blame the electric fluorescent lighting that flickers and buzzes and can give me a bad head. But I would be lying. I’m here to be wide open and honest. So here goes!
This course is taking away pieces of my soul, week after week. And I’m not ashamed to say that I have contemplated dropping out week after week, researching for alternatives. I even enrolled on a supplementary course, decolonising counselling, that would tend to all the damage this course is doing, but I had to withdraw from that due to costs and timings.
If you’ve ever studied counselling and therapy, you’ll know that everything; theories and tools and practices are all taken from dead white guys. Dead white guys acting like Gods (and I don’t mean the internal Gods I’m just mentioned). White male, usually heterosexual and middle class theorists who pontificate that they know everything about what’s happening in everybody’s mental health. They have the solutions to make us feel/ do /be better. As it’s always the individual’s fault and can be traced back to their childhood, their mother? Bullshit!
It hurts to be fed this shite every Monday. In the beginning I pushed back and attempted to decolonise the teaching, the theory, the responses. Bringing in other theorists and arguments. Being the only Black face in the class, girl has to represent.
Until we got to week 9, we were exploring different types of power within the counsellor and client relationship. Power roles within the counselling arena. After a discussion, we were being presented with a list of ‘Further key aspects of power or perceived power’. And yes the list was not an exhaustive list and things could be added, the tutor said. This list did not include ‘race’, ‘ethnicity’, ‘culture’, and I voiced it as such. My comment was laughed at and dismissed as, ‘there’s always one’.
Always one who has to comment on what’s missing from the list? Or always one who has to bring up race? Who knows! I just know how this comment made me feel. Know your audience I say or was I being put into my place? This response indicated to me that this input, which a fundamentally the way white supremacy culture wields power through the hierarchy of the races. It’s the sea that we’re swimming in and to not mention is the usual state of affairs. This interaction indicated to me that this was never going to be on this course’s agenda. Me continuing to challenge the whitewashing of counselling and therapy, me constantly remarking on the culture that we’re operating in wasn’t enlightening my fellow students or suggesting that they become more aware of their ( and my own) unconscious biases. I realised I was just creating issues where they never saw issues. Problems where there are no problems. As race and racism is only a problem when there’s a Black person in the room. It’s Black people who have an issue with race as whiteness isn’t a race, right? Whiteness is a given.
After week 9, and tonight was week 15, I’ve silenced myself. I’ve disengaged from the course, no longer contributing. I turn up and get my attendance and keep my thoughts and comments and feelings to myself. I’m not giving anything of myself anymore to the group, to the course within the face to face sessions as I’ve received the message it’s not welcome, it’s not of value, it’s not relevant. I do not intend to waste my energy and heart and soul on this experience.
This hurts me. I’m making sanctuary for myself. I’m making this experience safe for myself. I’m keeping myself safe within myself, within my body as being in that classroom is no longer safe for me. And to explain that to them, I wouldn’t bother, as they wouldn’t get it. The can’t get it and it would also involve them listening to me, and me being heard, which ain’t happening.
I’m creating sanctuary for myself, within my body and its a practice. I’m using a self-soothing approach, self-talking, loving compassionate approach when I experience something that is harming, hurting, traumatic. I’m letting myself know, like that little girl inside me who needed to be loved and kept safe, I’m stroking my own chest over my heart and saying to her, saying to myself, ‘ You are love, Sheree. I’ve got you I understand why you are feeling unsafe. But I’ve got you. You’re dafe now.” I’m mothering myself. I’m making myself safe. I’m making myself sanctuary.
Living Wild Studios 