I : DAWN

I: DAWN

team onyx

Theophina Gabriel

Founder & Editor In Chief

Serena Arthur Deputy Editor

Alyssa Crabb

Inès Bonneau

Jordan Greenwood

Oluchi Ezeh

Sascha DaCosta-Hinds

Zeynab Alwi

Art & Fashion Editor

Film & Theatre Editor

Lifestyle & Culture Editor

History & Politics/ Poetry & Fiction Editor

Social Media Manager

Business Officer

This magazine is the property of Onyx.

All featured artists and writers retain full rights over their work.

Printed in England by Oxuniprint, Oxford onyxmagazineox

@onyx.ox

@Onyx_Magazine

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I First there was pressure. Then it became. Solidification of Thought of Colour of Imagination once held by the mind’s eye, now balanced through hands. It remained unknown, a secret raw and yet hidden from the world. Underground it glistened under the breath of many voices that had begun to rise. We put our ears to the ground; heard the unheard voices, saw the unseen eyes, felt the hearts beating with stories untold.

We reached our hands into the earth and dug until we could finally lift it to a dark blue sky. We beheld it against a brand new day, against the first light of a beautiful, beautiful dawn...

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I: DAWN noun: 1. the first appearance of light in the sky before sunrise. verb: 1. (of a day) begin.

2. come into existence.

3. become evident to the mind; be perceived or understood.

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“If you can’t find a space, make one.”

Have one terrifyingly incredible vision.

Place it in the hearts of two dedicated people. Lace it with excitement. Place it in one grant application. Remove it from the subsequent grant rejection. Dissect it with strategy. Throw it out like a net and see who else is captured by it. Reel in four wonderful editors and two amazing officers. Filter it into late nights, more grants and pour it into ten months worth of meetings. Chop it up into four hundred and seventy nine emails. Rescue it from yet another grant rejection. Doubt it.

Continue to carry it anyway. Polish it up and pitch it. Watch it become a glimmer in other

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people’s eyes. Nurture it with consistency. Split the weight of it with your team. Celebrate with your team as it grows with over one hundred submissions from talented creatives of African and Caribbean heritage across the world. Carry it in your purse like a proud mum and show it off at networking events.

Feed it your sleep. Type it carefully into even more funding applications. Ask everyone you know to help carry it. Watch with amazement and gratitude when hundreds of hands pick it up and carry it way beyond where you thought it could ever be...

In your hands you’re currently holding an eighty-eight paged vision supported by over two hundred people that began over a year ago in my head in my student bedroom.

LETTER FROM THE FOUNDER AND EDITOR IN CHIEF

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founded Onyx because it is not hard to notice a pattern of exclusion in both literary establishments and the creative industries. Often one or two names are championed; the Zadie Smiths’ and Malorie Blackmans’, but this doesn’t change the shocking statistics - the UK publishing industry remains 90% white. In my student bedroom I envisioned a publication that would unapologetically platform creative Black writers and artists whose work continues to barely scratch the surface of the publishing world. It would be filled with poetry, short stories, artwork, intelligent articles and think pieces from Black creatives in need of a place to express themselves. A space where we would be free to be as creative with our expression without necessarily having to mention our struggle and oppression. A space which was liberated from the feeling that we needed to edit or adapt our voices to fit an ‘aesthetic’ in order to be published. I started excitedly brainstorming names and decided to call the publication Onyx Magazine. I found that as early as the Second Dynasty Ancient Egyptians had used Onyx to form sculptures and create beautiful pieces of artwork. I chose this name because I envisioned that this would be the same way in which Onyx would be the medium that Black creatives would use to express their valuable voices.

The beauty of Onyx Magazine being a student publication would be that it would platform Black voices not just in the creative industry, but also within educational establishments. By choosing to note which institutions we were receiving student submissions from, we could break down preconceptions by proving that creative Black voices not only exist, but exist inside a wide range of institutions.

This was especially important to the team and I as Black creatives studying at the University of Oxford.

You cannot carry a vision alone. None of this would have been possible without my team; Alyssa, Sascha, Inès, Oluchi, Zeynab, Jordan and Serena. These phenomenal women sourced and edited over one hundred and twenty pieces of stunning work, organized numerous spreadsheets and budgets, ran social media platforms, and hosted an art exhibition fundraiser, all while juggling their undergraduate degrees. It hasn’t been easy, and there were times where I didn’t even know whether we’d make it past hurdles of funding and deadlines. I do have to throw out some special ‘thank yous’ to people who significantly lifted Onyx towards becoming a reality. Firstly, Serena my Deputy Editor, my right hand, confidante, voice of sanity,

and unfaltering rock. You’ve been there from the beginning and I can’t believe we’re finally holding our Onyx in our hands. Renée, for being the first person to believe in Onyx when it was just a seedling of an idea and fanning the flames of my vision. Peggy for suggesting The Oxford Foundry for our launch venue. The Oxford Foundry for going above and beyond whatever we could have imagined for the launch of our first edition. Regent’s Park College JCR for generously supporting us numerous times with their Arts fund. Fahreen for helping us secure critical funding that we hadn’t even considered applying for. Fran and Georgie for donating profit from Oxford’s first all Black female theatre production of ‘For Coloured Girls’ to help us meet our fundraising goals. These are just a few special shoutouts, at the back you’ll see a longer and fuller list of thanks to those who supported us on our journey.

We chose Dawn for the theme of our first edition because we felt that it symbolised the beginning of our journey as a creative publication. My favourite definition of Dawn is ‘becoming evident to the mind, being perceived or understood’. Dawn notes transition, change, increased visibility; the process of an idea once incubated in the dark recesses of the mind eventually evolving until the light can touch it somehow; be it on paper, screen, or on a canvas.

Dawn is mandatory for visibility, a concept which Onyx embodies; without the dawn of Onyx so many valuable pieces of Black artistry would have remained hidden.

We broke down the theme into three sections to note the transition that happens within a Dawn, as you will see on the contents page. We wanted to highlight everything within the process of Dawn; the dark stages, where change is barely visible, right up until a recognisably golden sky. The content in each section embodies or resembles the stage that they reside within. These pieces explore everything from dark struggles with self-worth and the beauty of darkness, to bold realisations of identity and bright expressions of selflove and pride.

I’m extremely proud to have been the driving force that brought together a hard-working team who helped bring these deserving voices into publication. A lot of collective tears, time and tired nights have gone into the following pages. I hope you enjoy reading the incredible work we’ve unearthed as much as the team and I have enjoyed unearthing it.

- Theophina Gabriel

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heritage represented in this issue

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Danel Daley Lakeem Rose

Amaani Hepburn

Sascha DaCosta-Hinds Serena Arthur

Isabella Rooney

Danel Daley Lakeem Rose

Kirsty Bekoe-Tabiri Leslie Dickson-Tetteh

Christopher Harris Pamela Roberts Theophina Gabriel

Inès Bonneau

Jordan Greenwood Nazan Osman Sascha DaCosta-Hinds Serena Arthur Ashleigh Lyme

Elias Williams

Ebruba Abel-Unokan Adanna Anomneze-Collins Alyssa Crabb Oluchi Ezeh Aondoyima Ioratim-Uba Desola Kazeem Amaka Okpalugo Lara Sokunbi

Asha Hassan

Ide Thompson Marsha Triea

Mugizi Hillary

Chelsea Blackwell

academic institutions represented in this issue

Baylis Court School Bournemouth University Cardiff University Clare’s College, University of Cambridge Falmouth University Houston Community College Makerere University School of Industrial and Fine Art, Uganda Mansfield College, University of Oxford Pembroke College, University of Oxford Pratt Institute, New York Regent’s Park College, University of Oxford Royal Agricultural University Somerville College, University of Oxford St. Benet’s Hall, University of Oxford St. Catherine’s College, University of Oxford St. Edmund Hall, University of Oxford St. John’s College, University of Oxford St. Peter’s College, University of Oxford The Queen’s College, University of Oxford University of East Anglia University of Manchester University of Nottingham University of Surrey University of The Bahamas Visual Arts University of the West Indies - ROYTEC University of the West of England, Bristol

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CONTENTS

I: DAWN astronomical dawn

Page 12............................................................... Shadows Aren’t Scary - Chelsea Blackwell Page 14........................ Moonlight: The Love Story Made Chef-d’oeuvre - Nazan Osman Page 16.................................................................................. III: Ghost - Theophina Gabriel Page 18................ Naw A Crown Up-on Mi Head (What love feel like) - Ide Thompson Page 20..................................................................................... Arial - Ebruba Abel-Unokan Page 21.................................................................................. Jinetra - Leslie Dickson-Tetteh Page 22.......................................................... Ghost Ghouls & Revolution - Elias Williams Page 24.......................... Black Twitter: A Shout from the Void - Sascha DaCosta-Hinds

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nautical dawn Page 28.................................................................... Honeyed Rays - Kirsty Bekoe-Tabiri Page 30..................................... I swear, it mus’a been ya soul dawnin, - Ide Thompson Page 31......................................................................... Bishop of da Sea - Ide Thompson Page 32................................................................................... Fabric - Christopher Harris Page 34......................................................................... My Experiences - Ashleigh Lyme Page 42................................................................................ Raw Thought - Lakeem Rose Page 54................................................................................ I: Father - Theophina Gabriel Page 56......... His Words Are Like Dawn on the Distant Horizon: Shedding Light on Jean Toomer’s Cane - Serena Arthur Page 58.............................. I had an epiphany looking at a crane - Christopher Harris Page 60........................................................................................... Growth - Asha Hassan

civil dawn Page 64.................................................................... I look to the Horizon - Marsha Triea Page 66... Black Oxford: An Interview with Pamela Roberts - Sascha DaCosta-Hinds Page 68............................................... The New Wave of Black Creatives - Lara Sokunbi Page 70............................................................................................. Alfajiri - Marsha Treia Page 72.......................................................................... Madrugada - Christopher Harris Page 74..................................................................................... Dawn - Jordan Greenwood Page 76.............................................................. Latina is Not a Colour - Isabella Rooney Page 78.......................................... Black Panther: The Dawn of a Legacy - Oluchi Ezeh Page 80.................................................................................... II: Sun - Theophina Gabriel Page 82...................................................... A New Portrait - Adanna Anomneze-Collins Page 84.................................................................................................. Light - Danel Daley Page 85............................................................................................. Aurora - Marsha Triea Page 86............................................................................................................... with thanks

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Astronomical twilight begins when the sky is no longer completely dark after astronomical dawn. This occurs when the Sun is 18 degrees below the horizon in the morning. At this point a very small portion of the sun’s rays illuminate the sky and the fainter stars begin to disappear.

Astronomical dawn is often indistinguishable from night, especially in areas with light pollution. Astronomical dawn marks the beginning of astronomical twilight, which lasts until nautical dawn.

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Astronomical Dawn I’m mainly darkness, but my dark never was menacing. Nobody fears the light, yet it is what these stars drown in. I like it here, in the inbetween. Others do not know how to carry the weight of the dark.

Then again not many know the pleasure of kissing the night awake.

The flare of the cities cloak me in invisibility so I move swiftly. If I am caught it is only faintly, and by only the brightest of eyes.

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Artwork by Chelsea Blackwell

Moonlight The love story made Chef-d’oeuvre - Nazan Osman

Love stories are infinitely rewritten. Be it in film, novels or song, the same fabrics and patterns are used time and time again and often lack lustre. Changing this status quo, the award-winning excellence Moonlight (2017) has added new glimmer to what may have been previously considered an entirely worn form. Barry Jenkins mixes a romantic recipe and serves it up well; incandescent visuals and viola sounds are within his magi’s satchel of ingredients which go into the chef-d’oeuvre that is Moonlight.

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Photography by Alyssa Crabb

INGREDIENTS

• Neon Lights • Orchestral Strings • Jidenna • Two Hearts

METHOD

STEP ONE

STEP THREE

A spoonful of neon lights

Bake two hearts (180C/350F/Gas 4)

We begin with Jenkin’s key ingredient of luminous visuals. The electro-tropical world of Moonlight can be split up into two colour tones: blue and blue refracted. The refractions are like dawn itself - shattered amethyst, inky purple and swatches of indigo that stain the setting throughout the general mess of Chiron’s Miami, such as scenes at home and at the station. However, when alone with Juan and Kevin, an unsaturated blue fills the screen.

In scenes of kissing and swimming by the beach, the oceanic, cleaner colour accompanies these scenes of love. Visually, we are able to sense the beauty and intensity of the love that is felt. A love baptismal, cool, clean as heaven.

A final ingredient: character. Chiron, animated by Alex R. Hibbet, Ashton Sanders and Trevante Rhodes, is a fully defined character; each actor at each life stage is able to capture that core essence which defines him, from major characteristics like his love of silence, to minute mannerisms in the way he continually parts his lips. Kevin similarly, portrayed by Jaden Piner, Jharrel Jerome, and André Holland, is the same bubbling spout of life, knowing smiles and soft eyes throughout. When stood even in the presence of these two actors, sans dialogue, an intensity of their character is felt at grand dimensions. The camera, as Jenkins explains in interview, is often “placed between actors… allowing audience and actor participation”. A love story has never been so close for us viewers; the camera positioning means we stand very literally in the middle of these two characters, and the emotion this affects is incredible.

STEP TWO

Pour ¾ orchestral strings; sprinkle in freshly chopped Jidenna The movie’s soundtrack is another essential and exquisite component. When Kevin plays the jukebox for the new Chiron, introducing himself as ‘Black’ at their reunion, Barbara Lewis’ Hello Stranger fills the otherwise silent space and positively tugs on the soul. It features a bossa-nova beat with an organ; this contradictory combination of instrumentation being exemplary of the soundtrack overall. Classical compositions merge with pieces like Goodie Mob’s Cell Therapy and a screwed version of Jidenna’s Classic Man ; timeless and contemporary art forms unite to form a refreshed sound. The sound of the breeze within the soundtrack becomes a symbol, appearing in Juan’s conversations with Little, and, at the very close of the film, the embrace upon the bed. Lilting, otherwise normative, romantic film scenes, kisses and conversations become a multi-sensory experience; through sound, a deeper intimacy is attained.

The film that emerged from this recipe is a dish more astonishing than many others laid before us in cinematic history. The meals in this film nourish Chiron; Juan, Theresa, and eventually Kevin lovingly cook for him just as Jenkin’s has cooked for us this masterpiece. He serves before us this film, a severely beautiful testament to love; as an audience, we consume Moonlight and we too are nourished. Moonlight is the dawn of a new time for cinema. It is one of the first of its kind to unapologetically celebrate a love story between two Black men, and do so in a way that shows such a deep adoration and appreciation for such a story; Jenkins has created a new aesthetic moment for what it means to be so Black, so beautiful.

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Photography by Theophina Gabriel

III: GHOST Blue light illuminates her face Words blur across the screen, and the numbers swim away from completion she begins to sink: ‘maybe I am not enough-’ I want to remind her, that she has been held by hands that have been blessed by sea salt and nutmeg hands; that wiped at the joyful tears of three words: ‘I got in.’ hands held steady so they could lift her to open doors they had both dreamed of I want to remind her, that her cheeks have been kissed by an unsetting sun, silent but forever warm nurturing life within her despite the cold love clicked into see-through containers; rice/curry goat/plantain a motherly sustenance; ‘you know you can tell me anything’ In the dark now she forgets, she cries by the window, haunted, and watches while the night breaks into the next three years.

- Theophina Gabriel

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Naw A Crown Up-on Mi Head (What love feel like) The First night I met you. I wanted to write you a poem. Write your story with my prose.

Time the rhythm of your heartbeat with my pen. Turn the warmth of your body into, blazing words - on your skin - with my tongue.

All your pain, and sorrow, WHEN YOU SPOKE I COULD FEEL IT! When your eyes shut tight to smile. I wondered – why is he so beautiful.

The very first time I touched you, I wanted to turn the feelings into words.

The warmth, the tactile resistance, the story of life in a body.

When the doctor cut you from your mother. He left a bit of skin, an uneven Snag of the bond. A navel can tell a life, hands of a soul etching on skin.

I see you with my hands.

-Ide Thompson

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Artwork by Ezi Wear

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Ariel Hurtling through the uncertain night to the promises of some new fancy, fantastic and wild.

We lie on your bed and I laugh so hard that I feel my abs will never stop aching.

Dark outside, but the dawn is inhered.

One deep breath after another as I realise tonight was the start of the rest of our lives.

I feel eternal, alone and in love with the whole of creation.

Your hand brushes mine and, although I am scared, I know I have you.

Ariel clasps my wrist, intimating all the triumphant sentimentality of youth, but I know by his touch that he is not through with me yet.

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- Ebruba Abel-Unokan

Jinetera we rattle in the backseat she smiles at my scent this is not her first hunt. each skittish withdrawal strengthens her as she stalks, rolling her shoulders at my side -the other passengers give her room, their years have seen too much slaughterwhiskers twitching some feline genius calculates the trajectory. the steps slow poise then leap. her hand checks my leg my eyes pin her head there’s a place she wants to take me which I cannot go desperate, she presses her mouth to mine and looks up to my shaking head she takes a moment to read the lay of things understands retreats. creation is not so slight a thing as to mistake capitulation for entertainment from birth it is struggle. and so the crab has its claws the deer its horns once again i shake mine there are some costs we should not afford eyes dead ahead we clatter on apart.

-Leslie Dickson-Tetteh

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GHOSTS, GHOULS & oday Haiti is known as the place where the T big earthquake happened. In 1804, it was known

as the home of rebellious slaves: the most dangerous men and women in the transatlantic world. Turning against their owners, the enslaved black people of Haiti forged a new path, an era of liberty that was not dependent on the colour of a person’s skin dawned.

The island of Hispaniola is made up of Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Both nations are divided down the middle by a mountainous terrain. It is supposedly the first destination in the Americas that Christopher Columbus settled on: the island was named in honour of his Spanish sponsors.

Upon arrival, Columbus and his cohort systematically terrorised and enslaved the indigenous peoples of the island, known as the Taíno . The extremity of the genocide committed by the Spanish across all of the Americas was overwhelming, but the deadliest weapon Europeans brought to the Americas was disease.

Within a matter of decades, the Taíno inhabitants of Hispaniola were wiped out.

the name of liberty and the rights of man reached the ears of disgruntled slaves in San Domingue, it sparked a permanent thirst for freedom amongst the displaced Africans. The language of freedom, liberty and revolution was not a language meant only for white people - which the American Declaration of Independence (1776) and French Constitution (1791) would have you think. The peoples of San Domingue adopted this rhetoric and used it for their own ends. Cruelty in San Domingue was so great that 685,000 peoples were brought over from Africa between 1700 and 1791 50% of them were bought over in the last 15 years.

Work was so gruelling that slaves did not live long enough to repopulate.

On the eve of the Haitian revolution, 90% of San Domingue’s population were slaves.

An unknowable amount of people died in the slave insurrection of 1791. After the initial insurrection, a civil war took place, which then resulted in the deaths of many more and under Dessalines, a purge meant the deaths of 3000 to 5000 people. Respect must be paid to those who gave their lives for the principles of freedom and humanity that were stripped from African slaves at the time. In 1794 slavery was abolished across the French Empire; in 1807 Britain banned the slave trade; it took until 1833 for the Slavery Abolition Act was passed which abolished slavery throughout the British Empire - and this was only following a large scale revolt in Jamaica in 1831. And finally, it was not until 1865 that slavery was abolished in America. In 1791 the slaves of Haiti liberated themselves - they set something beautiful in motion, something that took the biggest Empires in the world years to do. The Haitian revolution should be one of the most famous stories in human history - it is not.

In 1791, some 200 years after European occupation in Hisponalia, Haiti was a rich French colony known as San Domingue. San Domingue produced 40% of Europe’s sugar and 60% of her coffee, making her the most profitable plantation colony in the New World. A huge amount of man power was needed to sustain this. The Europeans had help from a disposable workforce: Africans.

Initial attempts to enslave the Taíno fell short as they began to die of disease and fatigue. A priest who had accompanied Columbus on his voyage to the New World found the brutality against the Taíno so disgraceful that he suggested they use Africans instead. Amidst the hierarchy of ‘race’ Africans were at the very bottom: perfect to be Haiti tends to be relegated to the (unrightly) used as slaves for the cultivation of sugarcane. subsidiary category ‘black history’. Haiti is so The first uprising of the Haitian revolution much bigger than the box that people place it began two years after the inception of the French in. Thousands of British soldiers died trying to revolution in 1789. This was no coincidence. When claim Haiti for themselves during the turmoil, as word of a rebellion against the king of France in did Spanish, French and American troops. This

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REVOLUTION history is not black history. It is a human history to them. The Taíno name for the island had been that stretches across the many nations and races ‘Ayiti’. ‘Haiti’ - a tribute to the indigenous people of the island. that it touched.

In 1805 a new nation was formed on the blood of the Taino, the blood of slave-owners, the blood of slaves.

Haiti made history, becoming the first black republic that unapologetic ally acknowledged that black people were human and deserved to be treated as such. Over 200 years later, Haiti is still paying for its rebellion. It barely registers as history.

There is light and darkness in Haiti’s history - from the successful overthrowing of an oppressive system, to isolation from foreign powers that resulted in years of poverty, to years of mismanagement, corruption and even cannibalism. The Ghosts and Ghouls of Haiti still haunt the island to this day. There is no simple answer to what will come of Haiti or how

their past affects them, but living in the West it is very easy to ignore that the very ‘creation’ of Haiti is so much Haiti on 1 January 1804 more than the was a public display of place where the their dawning. Haiti, big earthquake due of its very existence, happened.

In ignited something very 1804, it was known powerful across the as the home of world. The first leader of rebellious slaves: the the first black republic, most dangerous men and Jean-Jacques Dessalines, women in the transatlantic said, “We world. They have dared s h o o k to be free. the very Let us dare g r o u n d to be so by that the New ourselves World stood upon, and for dismantling an oppressive regime from the o u r s e l v e s ”. ground up in a way that had not been seen before, These words sent tremors across the world at the and truly, has not been seen since. They created time; they still light my heart today. their own earthquake years before. Haiti was the The future is bright, we must use it to illuminate most successful slave insurrection. the past.

Upon the creation of the new independent state of Haiti in 1804, the Haitians were aware that an - Elias Williams Artwork by Ezi Wear indigenous people had lived on the island prior

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BLACK TWITTER: A SHOUT FROM THE VOID

by Sascha DaCosta-Hinds We – in England – tend to learn to write from the age of 4.

Picking up a pen, feeling the paper, letting the ink, crayon or lead scribble and dance across the page. We’re so proud.

Our parents are prouder – we’ve unlocked a secret that is passed down from year to year; we get to experience something that was and is kept from people, even to this day. In 1845, writing his memoirs, ex-slave, abolitionist, writer and statesman, Frederick Douglas explained his experience with reading and writing. He watched ships.

Noting that starboard was marked “S” and that landboard was “L”, he writes “I soon learned the names of these letters, and for what they were intended when placed upon a piece of timber in the ship-yard. I immediately commenced copying them, and in a short time was able to make the four letters named”. It took him years to read and write, to learn undercover, because “If you give a n*gger an inch, he will take an ell. A n*gger should know nothing but to obey his master – to do as he is told to do. Learning would spoil the best n*gger in the world”. Learning to write only took us a single term in school.

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Douglass’ first two publications The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass (1845) and My Bondage My Freedom (1855) were prefaced by what was then called a “white envelope” – a ‘certificate’ of validation attesting to Douglass’s “African heritage, former bestial status, and intellectual abilities” 1 . It wasn’t enough to write your truth, being black was not enough – a white person had to sign off what you had to say.

Just under 200 years later reading, writing and independently speaking your mind to a growing audience of 330 million people* is as easy as tapping a few characters on your smart phone/laptop/computer/tablet. #BlackTwitter is not just a something that graces our search bars – it’s a movement. As well as being prolific in memes, plugging black-owned businesses, and calling out racists, #BlackTwitter is able to branch out into larger discussions.

On 9 th August 2014, twitter user @TheePharoah live-

tweeted the untimely death of Ferguson teenager Mike Brown that sparked the so-called ‘Ferguson-unrest’.

Through twitter and other social media outlets people were able to express their views of the story they’d been told – or seen. The hashtags #IfTheyGunMeDown and later #IfIDieInPoliceCustody brought to light pervasive narrative that styles black people as thugs and lawbreakers. Through Brown the world was shown that a person is not just what is depicted in the media – we were able to see a person, with dreams and aspirations and a life. A different story was told, a story that allowed the black person to speak without the validation of the “white envelope”.

The black voice has become one of those 330 million in 2018, it merges in with the crowd. But not quite. It is loud and domineering. It is able to put people in their place. We are angry, wanting, hungry – apparently – and for good reason I say. Keep shouting.

History repeats itself, apparently.

*Statistic of the amount of people on Twitter in 2017 https://www.statista.com/statistics/282087/number-of-monthly-activetwitter-users/

We are the once incomprehensible dream and hope of the slave forbidden from expressing themselves. Our ability to articulate ourselves at a moment’s notice and have others listen is something new, and sometimes, I believe, unappreciated. The sun has set for most on the barriers that Douglass faced, but we should never forget that words did not come easily. Dawn is breaking within this newfound On the 16 th February 2018, Dwayne Wade, a black freedom rooted in digital expression - this does not mean American NBA player tweeted “They use to try and hide we should forget the dusk. it… now the president has given everyone the courage to live their truths”. Isn’t it the way, to get the courage to write A Shout from the Void - Sascha DaCosta-Hinds from the rich, powerful and white?

Twitter was created to tweet – bear with me. By definition the tweet was meant to be “a short burst of inconsequential information”, and “chirps from birds”. This was in 2006. In 2014, in 2018, Twitter is a powerhouse of information far from inconsequential. Certainly, it can be, and should be, a place to shout into the void. Everyone needs to do this at certain points. The ease at which we can write anything that has the potential to spread across the world is both astounding and terrifying. It’s brilliant. It’s seeing Douglas sitting on a dock, watching ships go by and noting the shapes of the letters on their sides. Seeing him sneak books from his white owners, reading words by candlelight.

Seeing him use the board fence/ brick way/ pavement and chalk – he did not have access to pen and paper – to write down what he spent an age learning. Seeing him escape captivity and one day become able to write his experience down – and have valued as significant by those in power. It is astounding and terrifying and heart-breaking and brilliant that we can do as Douglass did in as little as 20 seconds.

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Nautical twilight begins when there is enough illumination for sailors to distinguish the horizon at sea but the sky is too dark to perform outdoor activities (except with artificial light). Formally, nautical twilight begins when the Sun is 12 degrees below the horizon in the morning. The sky becomes light enough to clearly distinguish it from land and water. Nautical dawn marks the start of nautical twilight, which lasts until civil dawn.

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Nautical Dawn The sailors are my children, they know my face. My lips are dappled in deep blue that calls the light closer and shows their boats the sea. I alight, my skin glimmering with the promise of an unborn morning.

Not quite light enough to begin, but not quite dark enough to retire, I hum, and the sound creates a line that separates the water from the land and sky. I smile at my darkness and my light. They have woven a perfect casket for the sun.

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Brown gold. Black gold.

Liquid gold.

My skin shines.

It swallows light so thirstily, And when I stand in the Sun I am glowing.

I tingle under the heat that my body was made for.

Walnut, hazelnut, chestnut, And I am made dark

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Artwork and description by Kirsty Bekoe-Tabiri

I SWEAR, IT MUS’A BEEN YOUR YA SOUL DAWNIN, (DRAWING ME TO REST IN TUMULT.) When you\I, first opened eyes, I felt the sunlight tumble down my tongue, into the darkness of my stomach.

It was too sweet, sweet sweet like Yaya’s Guava cake on a Caribbean-Christmas-Morin.

I hadn’t eaten it in five long years…

1. The taste of your eyes on mine is honey 2. You have ta you cut the seed from da flesh t’make da sauce 3. Da sound da water dem make on ya body is a Halleluiah 4. Mix the suga n cream tageder with ya too-fast-hands 5. Your flesh is a shade of sun ripe mango 6. Ya betta heat dat ole stove first before the guava cake gone in

Some say, the Sperits of the Ancestors whisper in ya h’ear, to tell you when to stop seasonin food.

Cleary, they are silent when we makin Guava cake, dat ting alwaysToo Sweet.

Too Beautiful.

Like the first light on turquoise seas.

- Ide Thompson

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Photography by Amaka Okpalugo

BISHOP OF DA SEA Called, By my own name A king.

When my mother’s mother Spoke the words of making.

I was elect.

Believed the all seeing eye Providence divine A hope more eternal than communion wine, Or the anticipatory of his coming.

I drowned in the deep And rose in karategi Resurged from turquoise, Teals, and blue-marine scales grew on my skin.

Of several shades of translucence, Surging Iridescent.

As sea dove heralding from above, Excreting wide, anointed me, with God’s true sign.

Mew eggs, lime burn and slaking.

So I too could voice caustic Oceanside Mitered with the Queen Conch horn, My mother, Our Lady of the Shiloh-brine Vicar of the sea, I will become.

So I could voice the hurricane, An shake the sleepers’ wake, Raise dead with just my salty hands And Heal the sick with limestone tongue With Crozier smooth, From driftwood bark, An anchor for my sigil mark.

- Ide Thompson

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FABRIC 32

COLOUR DRAINS AT PACE, HIS NEEDLE POINTED FACE WEAVES FEATHERS, FUR, SHIMMERING VELOUR ABOVE THE BLACK VELVET BRAMBLED FLOOR. THE TAWNY OWL SCANS FOR PREY. HE PECKS AT A DEAD LEAF BOWING IN THE WIND. WHILE UNDERNEATH, A PULSING JITTERY MASS CUTS A PATH THROUGH THE HEATH. WHEN OWL LOOKS AWAY THE MICE WILL PLAY. TOADS CROAK TOGETHER. THEY CLAMBER SLICK WITH SWEAT THROUGH THE QUEUE OF CRITTERS HEDGEHOGS, WAITING PATIENTLY; FOXES, MORE FOCUSED ON HOLLERING FOR VIXENS. THEY FIND AT THE FRONT A BROAD SHOULDERED BADGER: “SORRY LADS, NO TADPOLES LET IN THIS SETT” MOONLIGHT, MOTTLED THROUGH SWAYING WILLOWS, CAST

Photography by Alyssa Crabb

DANCING SHADOWS ON THE PEAT. BLUEBELLS TINKLE TAWNY CHECKS HIS TALONS. OTTERS SLAM HONEYSUCKLE NEAT. FALLOW DEER RUT TO THE BEAT. THEY HAVE 4 LEFT HOOVES BUT NOTHING TO LOSE SOME RUN THROUGH FIELDS OF WHEAT. SWOOPING DOWN, TAWNY OWL OPENS HIS BEAK. HE IS GRACEFUL IN DEFEAT. PETRICHOR SUNRISE REVEALS AN EBULLIENT SCENE. AS NATURE INTENDED. PURE SILENCE, SERENE. ANTLERS ACHE AND THE REMAINS ARE PICKED CLEAN. AS DAWN TURNS TO DAY, THE RAT RACE SUSTAINS. MICE MADE BRAVE BY THE SUNS RAYS FORAGE AND SCAMPER NEAR THE DOOR OF THE SAME TAWNY PREDATOR SO HE WAITS TO EXPLORE UK’S BUSTLING NIGHTLIFE ONCE MORE.

CHRISTOPHER HARRIS

Photography by Alyssa Crabb

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My Experiences Ashleigh Lyme These five pieces were created as a way for me to share my own experiences growing up as a mixed-raced woman.

Every drawing here was based on photos taken throughout my childhood, but this project in particular was important to me for other reasons.

Everything written on the illustrations has either been said to me or my mother at some point, and I chose these quotes to highlight examples of

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microaggression and the effects they’ve had on me.

This was a very new type of project for me, as it was the first time I’d put something so personal into one of my illustrations.

To me dawn is a theme that represents something new, and for me these pieces were a huge step towards being more vulnerable with my personal projects.

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought

Lakeem Rose

Today

Picture a world where black artists talk about anything other than racism.

10:05 Lakeem Rose

Think of what might exist if black people could talk about themselves independently of abuse.

10:05 Lakeem Rose

Aren’t there some who do?

10:06

Lakeem Rose

That’s not what I’m saying..

10:06

Lakeem Rose

What are you saying?

10:06

Lakeem Rose

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Have you noticed that, in the western canon, black voices are only prioritised when talking about 10:05 race. Even then it’s kind of hit and miss.a

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

Have you noticed that, in the western canon, black voices are only prioritised when talking about race. Even then it’s kind of hit and miss. *cough* Racheal *cough* Dolezal 10:07 Lakeem Rose

You good? 10:08 Lakeem Rose

Yeah just something in my throat.

But seriously just think of all the talented lyricists whose subject matter rarely steps beyond the realm of police brutality and section 8 housing.

10:09 Lakeem Rose

But it’s interesting and important to platform our lived experiences.

10:09

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

You’re missing the point.

Think about the beautifully abstract images and writing that’s been pushed aside because we’re so busy trying to draw attention to the pain black people feel.

10:09 Lakeem Rose

But it’s a skillful catharsis, the way that we package and process that pain into art...

10:10

Lakeem Rose

Maybe... But we can also think of all the beautiful paintings that wouldn’t depict tortured black flesh.

10:10 Lakeem Rose

Fair Point.

Lakeem Rose

I mean we already know about the struggle, we shouldn’t have to continuously perpetuate it through our art too.

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

Expression is liberation. The struggle is education. We need to teach them. 10:11 Lakeem Rose

It’s not on us to educate everybody. And it’s not just the expression, it’s how that message is received. It’s become so trivialised that “the message” is consumed readily because it’s ‘cool’ or ‘lit’ while we ignore the bitter taste of trauma that has gone into it. Feeling liberated isn’t the same as being free. 10:12 Lakeem Rose

& I’m not just a jaded 21-year-old talking. Henry L. Gates (placing 3 rd on list of black-people-not-technicallyon-your--uni-course-thatshould-be, just behind Jesus and Malcolm X), warned against losing the “freaky deke-ness” he and his contemporaries brought to western art and art criticism.

Gates was aware that black art that didn’t entertain was often seen as redundant, but

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on-your--uni-course-thatshould-be, just behind Jesus and Malcolm X), warned 10:56 against losing the “freaky deke-ness” he and his- Raw Thought Lakeem Rose contemporaries brought to western art and art criticism.

Gates was aware that black art that didn’t entertain was often seen as redundant, but the alternative was that black artists were being stripped of what little joy they had left in an effort to be taken seriously by a canon that let Henrik Ibsen write about a baby carrot.

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10:14

Lakeem Rose

Huh? Lakeem Rose

The baby carrot thing is actually kinda lit but I guess my point is that it’s everywhere and if you can’t have fun and reclaim your joy while racism exists you will never have fun --- that is until you die alone next to your picture of Marcus Garvey. Art reflects society and reality, but does it always have to?

It’s become an expected narrative that’s suffocating.

10:18

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10:16

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

Yes it is suffocating but racism isn’t disappearing as much as it is evolving, so what, should black artists just stop talking about it? Pretend that it doesn’t exist? 10:19 Lakeem Rose

Look, racism is simple. It is hate. It is a system in place to facilitate that hate. And I feel like we are clinging onto the notion that if we package our struggle well enough they will let us stop talking about it, that eventually we’ll stop experiencing it.

10:21 We shouldn’t be expressing and packaging our pain in the first place. We shouldn’t have to. It’s like they create injustice that we package into entertainment that they then copy and consume. It’s a cycle I’m sick of, do you think those African poets lost in the diaspora were talking about racism? Aesthetically, black art has been the driving force of the West for the past 100 years. Name

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought

about racism? Aesthetically, black art has been the driving force of the West for the past 100 years. Name a country that doesn’t have their bargain store version of our music?

Why is Jay-Z writing the same slave narrative as Frederick Douglass?

10:23

Lakeem Rose

swap whips and chains for crack and police batons and it’s pretty much the same song.

10:26 Lakeem Rose

Exactly, and I’m done with it.

They know we’re suffering, they don’t care.

10:26 Lakeem Rose

But black culture has so much influence.

10:26 Lakeem Rose

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Which is why I’m tired of this. I’m tired of asking why growing up the first white kid you see in a movie is Harry

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

Which is why I’m tired of this. I’m tired of asking why growing up the first white kid you see in a movie is Harry Potter while the first black kid is Kuntakinte? Black Panther is the 9 th highest grossing film of all time but we had to wait till after Ant-Man and Dr Strange to get it because apparently in 2018 studio execs still think black faces can’t sell nigh-infallible tentpole blockbusters. And even when we are given a shot it’s only in the way they want to hear it. Childish Gambino only just got to the point where he was actually talking about interesting stuff before he realised there was more money in the “This is America” route - swapping nuance and personal experience for more vague “conscious” rap and depersonalised images of black pain (I’ll probably still pick up the album though).

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

LOL you know what’s funny, this is you expressing about the pain of racism, you could have been talking about something else right now.

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Lakeem Rose

And that’s the insidious nature of it. Some of the most talented lyricists in history are stuck on surface level subject matter. Imagine what Kendrick might talk about if when growing up his most pressing concern wasn’t a bullet to the brain.

10:35

Lakeem Rose

So where do we go from here? What’s the aim?

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Lakeem Rose

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That one day we will begin to realise the liberation of expressing art and music that doesn’t primarily stem from racist abuse. We don’t have to talk about it, but we can.

That one day we will touch

Lakeem Rose

That one day we will 10:56 begin to realise the liberation of Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought expressing art and music that doesn’t primarily stem from racist abuse. We don’t have to talk about it, but we can.

That one day we will touch the stars without even considering the need to prove it’s something we can do.

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Lakeem Rose

Do you think we’ll ever get there?

10:40 Lakeem Rose

I think that in 20 years’ time Kendrick will write his own “story of OJ”, and it’ll remind us that no matter how much we time we spend telling slave narratives over 808s and vocal samples nothing really changes no-matter how you want to pretend white people see you. 10:43 Lakeem Rose

That’s a little pessimistic…

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Lakeem Rose - Raw Thought Lakeem Rose

Yeah but racism is only going to stop when those in power feel pressured enough to deconstruct systems that have been built from oppression and mindsets that have formed implicit bias.

What we decide to talk about in the meantime as creatives is completely up to us. Don’t get me wrong art can be a great tool in the struggle against systemic oppression, but if we as creatives only turn to art when it’s time to vocalise pain or depict tortured flesh, we are only cheating ourselves out of the rich personal and cultural development that can only come from making art for art’s sake. It’s difficult to switch off from something that affects your life so greatly but it’s a necessary survival skill we are going to have to pick up one way or another.

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to deconstruct systems that have been built from oppression and mindsets 10:56 that have formed implicit bias.

- Raw Thought What weLakeem decideRose to talk about in the meantime as creatives is completely up to us. Don’t get me wrong art can be a great tool in the struggle against systemic oppression, but if we as creatives only turn to art when it’s time to vocalise pain or depict tortured flesh, we are only cheating ourselves out of the rich personal and cultural development that can only come from making art for art’s sake. It’s difficult to switch off from something that affects your life so greatly but it’s a necessary survival skill we are going to have to pick up one way or another.

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Lakeem Rose

At the very least we’ll have something to talk about when racism no longer exists?

10:55

Lakeem Rose

Yeah let’s hope so.

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I: FATHER He is patiently impatient.

A security badge draped around his neck Like a plastic medal, Paid to patrol buildings Hands; that can make guitar strings shudder Laying lax at his sides.

Back home he was a fisherman, He could shape wood Until it sang through the water Cast his hook for a morning’s catch That he would proudly sell down-town, He held new-born calves, In those Hands were milked the freshest cream from his Prized cow, the town’s envy.

Hands with stories, Hands blessed by sea salt and nutmeg and splinters now lay lax, now open a door, now burrow into his pockets away from an English cold as he begins his next patrol. when he was back-home he would sneak into the bushes alone, in the dead of the night just to sharpen his mind against the silent dark just to whisper to himself songs, until his world woke up, now a different dawn shimmers against his silent eyes.

- Theophina Gabriel

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Photography by Amaka Okpalugo

T T T T T T T T T T T T T T T T

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

The silent dark, his world woke up. A different dawn.

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HIS WORDS ARE LIKE DAWN ON THE DISTANT HORIZON:

Shedding Light on Jean Toomer’s Cane

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‘Men had always wanted her, this Karintha, even as a him and the way that he saw himself. As Rudolph P. Byrd child, Karintha carrying beauty, perfect as dusk when and Henry Louis Gates, Jr write, ‘Toomer embodies in his person, in his disposition, and in his art… hybridity, the sun goes down.’ (‘Karintha’, Cane ). alienation, fragmentation, dislocation, migration...’ (Jean Cane , Jean Toomer’s stunning 1923 collection of Toomer, Cane, (W. W. Norton and Company, 2011). This vignettes, explores the early 20th Century African sense of change and contrast, is captured in the images American experience with beautiful prose, haunting of darkness and light in the text, in the use of both dusk verse and an aching sadness. Yet today, a work that is and full of light imagery is unfortunately stuck in the dark, both dawn, such as in ‘Karintha’, the very first piece, and my the collection and its author unknown to the world, their favorite work of the whole collection. strength and beauty unseen.

‘Her skin is like dusk on the eastern horizon, O cant you Cane is a work that itself examines society’s judgement see it, O cant you see it, Her skin is like dusk on the of people who are unknown to them, people who are eastern horizon, When the sun goes down.’ either outcast, unfamiliar or both, with many of the pieces sharing names with the women that society watches This piece, with the quoted lines both the first in the in the narratives. It is separated into three distinct story and the first in the whole collection, is the dawn of sections: the first features stories and verse depicting Cane and yet it revolves around an image of dusk. This black experience in the South, a place of nature and verse defines Karintha as an object of aesthetic beauty farmland; the second transfers focus to the North, because of, rather than in spite of, her dark skin, but it with accounts of urban life and migration; and the final also sets the section contains just a single story, ‘Kabnis’, where the story out as a signifier for the themes of the whole eponymous central character struggles with his racial collection: that judgement, and lack of understanding identity, alienating himself from society. Cane , then, is a of identity beyond physical or expected stereotypical story about perceptions of identity and people who lose characteristics, severely restricts perception. Darkness control of their identity within the voices of society. This and near darkness are crucial images throughout the contrast between identity created or assumed by society text, perhaps alluding to the darkness of the limited and personal identity can also be seen as the story of viewpoint, but there is also a less negative connotation.

Toomer himself - mixed race, but unwilling to be defined Dusk is a between time, sitting between day and night, as African-American despite his father being black. Like just as many of ‘ Cane’s ’ characters and Toomer himself Kabnis, Toomer struggled to connect society’s view of consider where they sit between the categories of black

and white, between external perception and reality. Dusk questions of identity. Looking back at Cane now, there is is a place of union, a meeting point between light and no need to analyse Jean Toomer’s work based only on dark and a time of change. whether he is an African-American writer as was done in the early 20 th century. We do not need to link his goals in Yet, in final lines of ‘Kabnis’, which are the last lines of writing specifically to his race. Instead we can appreciate Cane, dusk finally becomes dawn his words for what they are, and for the comment on society that they make. Cane is a text that you will not ‘Outside, the sun arises from its cradle in the tree-tops of regret reading - one that will enlighten you and one that the forest. … The sun arises. Gold-glowing child, it steps will make you, too, want to recommend and eternally reinto the sky and sends a birth-song slanting down grey read. dust streets and sleepy windows of the southern town.’

- Serena Arthur The description of the ‘birth-song’ is lyrical in the alliteration of ‘birth-song slanting down…streets and sleepy windows of the southern town’, the ‘sleepy windows’ representing the dreaming people within who are paradoxically about to be woken by a lullaby of light.

Images of dawn, birth and childhood are interwoven to suggest that though the African-American experience holds pain as well as joy, ugliness as well as beauty, life will always go on. There will always be a new day that holds new people, with their own views and perceptions of their identity and as such, we, in the modern day, are much more able to be sympathetic to Toomer in his

perfect perfect as as dusk dusk

when when the the sun sun

goes down

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by Christopher Harris

building site opposite my house for quite while. I can see it through my bedroom windo and I see it every time I leave the hous Wokingham is under a lot of development the moment. Cranes in the Sky. I think back that gleaming anthem by Solange. In a interview with her sis (who?), they talk about Seat at the Table, motherhood and being black woman in America, explaining the ide behind the crane-themed lyrics: “this idea building up, up, up that was going on in o country at the time, all of this excessiv building, and not really dealing with what was front of us”.

Interestingly, skyscrap development has a significant correlation wi financial instability, as the same things th empower people to build megatowers also ten to lead to economic meltdowns: housin bubbles, overeager foreign investment, hig risk speculation. What goes up must com down. How can we build up into the sky when

I HAD AN EPIPHANY LOOKING AT A CRANE

This crane has hovered figuratively over the building site opposite my house for quite a while. I can see it through my bedroom window and I see it every time I leave the house. Wokingham is under a lot of development at the moment.

Cranes in the Sky. I think back to that gleaming anthem by Solange. In an interview with her sis (who?), they talk about A Seat at the Table, motherhood and being a black woman in America, explaining the idea behind the cranethemed lyrics: “this idea of building up, up, up that was going on in our country at the time, all of this excessive building, and not really dealing with what was in front of us”. Interestingly, skyscraper development has a significant correlation with financial instability, as the same things that empower people to build megatowers also tend to lead to economic meltdowns: housing bubbles, overeager foreign investment, high risk speculation. What goes up must come down. How can we build up into the sky when a neighbour is homeless? (Why does the UK’s ‘healthiest’ and ‘best place in the UK to bring up children’ need to spend £3.8million to repave a market when just 15 miles away in Slough 27% of children grow up in relative poverty). I think its a form of complacency, to build without addressing the problems that lie beneath, without knowing how you got this far. If, like me, you are mixed race and have ever wondered what it means to truly embrace what’s only a half/quarter there, you might know the feeling.

I briefly lived and worked in a town in Ghana called Cape Coast, it was average sized but received a higher than average amount of tourists due to an impressively domineering colonial fort which sat on its shore, looking over the Atlantic. During the height of the slave trade it was the British capital of Ghana, so naturally one of the most active slave exporting hubs of West Africa. Though precise figures are difficult to come by, its reported that a up to a fifth of the slaves taken to Grenada were Fante (an Akan subgroup based in south of Ghana) and most likely travelled through Cape Coast castle. My Grandad who was born in Grenada still carries the name of a Welsh slave owner, Bowen. So I stood inside the castle with a tour guide and a group of tourists, some white American/Europeans, some black Ghanaians. The tour guide theatrically gestured to the black tar stained wood of ‘the door of no return’. We followed him through the door as he described how we were retracing the steps of the condemned slaves. The door slammed shut behind us. This was the last view the slaves had of their homeland, never to return. I recognised at this point that my mixed race identity gave me a unique connection among the tour group to this door. With the knowledge that my ancestors had most likely travelled through these gates to reach Grenada, but had done so with the nodding complicity of my white ancestors, I felt entirely involved in the process, and suddenly I felt a spiritual meaningfulness I had not previously considered. I imagined I was both the perpetrator and the victim despising each other, but I found it darkly funny that they did so never knowing that their combined effort had brought me back to the door of no return. Our guide unlocked the door, and we returned.

Being mixed I have often felt out of place with my identity, but a recent epiphany standing under that crane liberated me, remembering Solange’s lyrics as a reminder to look to my foundations as I continue upwards, informed by the experience in Ghana of my uniquely personal perspective of blackness. DO NOT compare your blackness to others, look inwards rather than outwards for that, step back, cherish what the infrastructure of your privilege and identity have built you into and continue to build from there. It is the case then that it is perhaps not as bizarre to draw inspiration from a crane as it first seems.

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Growth As reward for my patient years; My sorrow, laughter, joy and tears Life handed me (to my surprise) A Me I do not recognise Her hands are bigger. They now catch pain That weighed me down like heavy rain.

Her eyes are brighter. She can see The world I found a mystery Her heartbeat, so much tougher than mine, Will beat the trials of life just fine…

Still, there’s so much she doesn’t know So much further she needs to grow So when I think of years of yet I remind myself not to forget, That though she stands a better chance One day I’ll need a stronger stance - Asha Hassan

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Artwork by Ezi Wear

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Civil twilight begins when there is enough light for most objects to be distinguishable, so that some outdoor activities, but not all, can commence. Formally, civil dawn occurs when the Sun is 6 degrees below the horizon in the morning. If the sky is clear, it is blue colored, and if there is some cloud or haze, there can be bronze, orange and yellow colours. Some bright stars and planets such as Venus and Jupiter are visible to the naked eye at civil dawn. This moment marks the start of civil twilight, which lasts until sunrise.

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Civil Dawn The light allows us to see each other, but your eyes remain closed. If you opened them to look through my pupils you would see the outlines of planets. The strongest stars have learnt how to swim in my golden skin but touching the horizon is an eternally new habit. I paint myself, orange, yellow, blue, while biting the last fragments of night between my teeth. In my arms I carry you towards a light that is greater than mine, one which will tint the insides of your eyelids orange.

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I look to the horizon and greet the new day falling...

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...with a heart bursting of hope and a pocket filled with poetry - Marsha Triea 65

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Q: Dawn begins with the first sight of light in the morning and continues until the sun breaks the horizon – it is about a changing scene, movement, sight and visibility of what was previously unseen. Your book Black Oxford sets out to explore just this, in a historical sense. What made you want to invoke a change in the Oxford scene and how did you decide on what kind of movement you wanted to make?

As all good movements, Black Oxford came out of insult. When I ask a question about the black scholars of Oxford I was told there weren’t any: “Black people only came in the 60s to drive the buses”.

When I started the research I found there was a tremendous amount of scholarship on black people in England from 400 years before that. The problem was visibility. Black people were not seen as part of the Oxford landscape.

Oxford was eurocentric - it was white.

It was not a city associated with a black presence or a black narrative. In terms of visibility there wasn’t any visibility.

Moving on from the University and education, Oxford is associated with Carol’s Adventures in Wonderland and Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings and more recently Harry Potter. The movement is about visibility.

Even now when I speak of Black Oxford people go, “Ha! Are there there any black students in Oxford?” And all you can do is turn your head to the side and tut.

Q: The first touches of light at dawn are almost indistinguishable from night. It seems then to be a game of time, and period of waiting. At certain points it is hard to tell whether the sun is actually rising. This, I feel, is the same way many people feel about the progress of positive visibility for the black community. Did you know, and if so, when did you know, that you had made an impact?

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Black Oxford operates a walking tour and when the first paying visitors came you could see on their faces the amazement and awe of being in Oxford with this particularly narrative. I knew I had made a difference.

A number of people had not been to Oxford or seen inside the colleges, this gave them the opportunity to do this.

They were able to see the insides of chapels and libraries. When I see the looks on the young peoples’ faces: they could be one of the students running around on the quad in a few years time.

Q: The dawn twilight period – the time before sunrise – can happen extremely quickly, or take an age. It is a waiting game until the sun’s upper limb breaks the horizon and light becomes diffused as direct sunlight. Patience is a common theme in the black community. Do you find that patience is a useful technique to get one’s voice heard?

This is the wrong question for me. One of my weakness is impatience. I want it now. I want it yesterday. Why isn’t it done?

I don’t think it is a good technique. Your voice can be lost, your voice can be forgotten. There’s a time to move, there is a time to go for it. What are you waiting for? You need to make things happen.

Being still and absorbing the information, however. This is useful. Being patient and being still are two different things.

You could send something to a company about your proposal and sit there waiting and waiting. Here’s an example.

Someone sent in a proposal to a manager - he was telling this story in a board meeting - and the manager thought it was brilliant. But he was busy man. He expected the person with the proposal to contact him but he never did. Once the proposal was out of sight it was out of mind.

Follow up on things. You need to be your own advocate.

Q: And finally, as a highly educated woman, a proponent for bringing to light black academic and creative achievements, do you have any advice for any of our readers who may be discouraged by the lack of visibility in the environments that they are in?

I’m gonna go down the cliche route. As Marianne Williamson says, “It is not our light that frightens us, it is our darkness we are afraid of”. You have to be aware that we are incredibly powerful and that we can make a change.

Here’s another one. Maya Angelou: “If you don’t like it change it”. I’m very much a pragmatist. If you don’t try something nothing will change. You see a problem? Ask yourself: “What am i able to do to make that change?”

It’s all very well sitting around saying “Aww this isn’t very good” or “We don’t get a lot of say here”.

For me it’s about being active and questioning and doing it for yourself.

What I’ve found is that saying, “this hasn’t happened, why hasn’t this happened?” is a great starting point. Then go out and change it.

If you’re sat in your bedroom saying “‘It’d be a real nice thing if this happened” and then do nothing about it, you’ll be sat in your room a year later in the same place saying “It’d be a real nice thing if this happened”.

“ You have be proactive in facilitating your own change.

You can harness people that believe the same things, grow a community, make a difference.”

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The presentation of Black people in film and television has always had problems. Back in the pioneer days of cinema, D.W. Griffiths’ 1915 film Birth of A Nation was praised for being the first ever ‘blockbuster’ movie – never mind that Black people were portrayed as rabid rapist animals who deserved to be lynched. As we moved through time, the lighting changed; in the 1930s and 1940s Black people were presented as submissive servants. We became aggressive but powerful in the blaxploitation movies of the 70s and 80s and then loud and over-sexualised in the 90s and 00s. Different lights, different images: throughout cinematic history these portrayals perpetuated the stereotypes that surround Black people even now: The thief, the aggressor, the untrustworthy one, the loud one, the sexual one, the funny one - the list goes on.

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these characters were my only options. Yet, amidst these token Black characters, there were also shows which embraced Black culture and confronted contemporary issues, paving the way for the dawn of new creatives we see today.

Shows like That’s So Raven and The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, although not both created by Black artists, dealt with issues of cultural acceptance, racial equality, racial profiling and gun crime. The addition of these shows into mainstream television stood not only as an alternative to the representations of Black people prior, but also as motivation to young creatives to change the narrative, to change the lighting, whether they realised it or not.

But still, the presence of shows like these were limited, and this allowed new Black creatives to ask important questions, such as: What has to happen for me to see Naturally, when the reflection of Black people seen in the myself represented more accurately on TV? media is limited to caricatures, you’ll compare yourself to the portrayal of your race and question how you are Due to the paths paved by these early shows, these new seen. Growing up in the 00s, I remember seeing these creatives now have the control to create narratives which stereotypes and comparing them to myself, wondering if reflect their truths. The present is an extremely important

time for Black people with issues such as institutional racism, police brutality, and many other inequalities being discussed more openly; it acts as a catalyst for these new, surfacing artists. It is time for Black creatives to create art forms which represent the thoughts and feelings of Black audiences, to stand in a new light. In short, it is time for a new dawn – and there are many Black creatives leading the way.

cereal advert. Donald Glover’s character is not the stereotypical Black rapper we have previously been shown; he is the Black rapper in a new light; Glover uses the show to break previous stereotypes and diversify the span of Black characters presented in the media.

Issa Rae stated that she wants her show, Insecure, to be looked back on as an “Obama Show” not a “Trump” show. So rather than being a critic of the troubles at hand, Take comedian and director Jordan Peele: his 2017 Insecure embraces Black culture and media becoming Academy Award winning film Get Out was so familiar to mainstream and just hilariously shows the ups and downs black people because it showed our experiences with of an average girl living life who just happens to be black. the things White people often say out of “kindness” or ignorance that make us feel like we aren’t more than our All three of these creatives, and many more, are examples race. Through the fusion of comedy and horror, Peele of Black creativity in a new light: a new dawn of creatives was able to educate the white public in a light-hearted who have the opportunity and the backing to control way whilst still creating a chilling movie that creatively the presentation of Black stories. They deconstruct the addressed race. Donald Glover (known musically as caricatures of the past and give us complexity. Through ‘Childish Gambino’) uses Atlanta as a satirical show comedy, through documentary, across all platforms, which subtly highlights the struggles of aspiring Black these new artists are spreading the idea of self-love, rappers - and somehow manages to effortlessly blend acceptance and resilience to the next generation of in a message about police brutality through a children’s young Black children, fuelling a change for good.

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Alfajiri She rises with the sun.

Her spirit warm and her heart pounding like a thousand African drums across a Saharan paradise.

She embodies the true representation of our ancestors in the way her hair coils and her skin glows.

Her journey has only just begun. Her legend is yet to be told.

To be passed down to other generations.

Words flowing like melodies off lips tainted in Caribbean honey. She just like dawn will soon break – and with her a new age will follow.

- Marsha Triea - Alfajiri: dawn (Swahili)

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Artwork by Desola Kazeem

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MADRUGADA DESNUDA PARA DÍA, EL SUSURRÓ LO QUE OYÓ DE LA NOCHE.

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DAWN UNDRESSED FOR DAY, FOR HE WHISPERED WHAT HE HEARD FROM THE NIGHT.

Christopher Harris

Artwork by Desola Kazeem

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Artwork by Ezi Wear

Dawn The Sun is Rising, the night is Done, Pouring rivulets of silken gold On the window and thawing screeching cold.

The rituals of rising have begun: A whispered aubade to a ring with missing jewel, Lying in bed, the crown of the home.

Her aureole Afro spun from blackest spool, Creates a diaphanous dome And overlaps with her daughter’s looser curls.

Here, an eclipse of two halves unfurls.

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The dawn is whole but also halved, Each mortal who loves her decays.

Mother lifts daughter, pauses as she prays, A PietĂ of onyx and amber carved.

Deep lines are etched in the palm of her hand, Wrinkles embossed on her face, Her stretchmarks are sinuous ripples on sand For her half-Black, yet all-Black, daughter to trace To a fabricated memory they share Of a distant shore and spice-warmed air.

Artwork by Ezi Wear

Toes touch carpet weaved from sun’s rays, They circle the bed, the omphalos of their earth, Their orbits widening from the moment of birth, Till they meet at sunset, the end of their days.

The Mother pauses at the foot of the stair, Their threads, once bound, begin to unroll.

Light and warmth bequeathed to her heir, Inside this half shall be her whole.

The burning orb crests the sky, the dawn is Done, The Daughter is Rising, all can be won.

- Jordan Greenwood

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“I don’t understand. Is she black or is she Latina?”

Artwork by Desola Kazeem

Isabella Rooney Recent media attention on American celebrities like Cardi B and Amara La Negra has provoked endless reiterations of the above comment. Cardi’s latest music videos have prompted thinkpieces on why a black woman is singing in Spanish, or what ties a ‘Latino’ woman has to black culture. In a viral video, Amara La Negra is told that her afro prevents her from being “elegant”, whilst also receiving accusations that she is a lightskinned woman in blackface. Scrolling through social media, it’s uncomfortably obvious that many people simply aren’t aware that Afro-Latinos exist. ‘Latino’, a term denoting nationality of a (multi-racial) Latin-American country, is instead used as an ethnic term, a conflation undoubtedly compounded by the disproportionate representation given to white Latinos. As a result, the assertion that someone can be both black and Latino seems revolutionary.

The collective lack of awareness that Latino countries are not mono-ethnic nations has followed me from a young age. As someone of mixed Afro-Cuban and white British descent, I’m no stranger to confused questions about my ethnicity. During a stage of frustration and insecurity, I got in the habit of keeping a photo of my (black) family at my quinces on my phone, ready to ‘prove’ myself in anticipation of people’s incredulity. One time, the reply was a shocked, “Oh, I just thought you were Latina coloured!”. Needless to say, ‘Latina’ is not a colour that exists.

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This erasure is pervasive in the way it fuels colourism. Visiting Cuba as a child, I remember how my curls were praised whilst my cousin’s hair was called unruly and difficult. At the beach, relatives would warn her against staying out in the sun too long, for fear of getting “too dark”. Anti-blackness is entrenched in our communities, where light-skinned and white-passing

Latinos carry enormous privilege. The features of Afro-Latinos are excluded from what is deemed attractive, influencing pressure to conform to Eurocentric standards of beauty. This pressure makes it all the more pressing to acknowledge that black Latinos exist and to demand adequate representation.

Lack of acknowledgement goes beyond beauty standards.

In their own countries, Afro-Latinos suffer multi-faceted institutional discrimination. In Colombia, where black Latinos make up a quarter of the population, 74% of Afro-Colombians earned below minimum wage in 2005. In Peru, the government’s official apology to the 1.2 million Afro-Peruvians in 2009 was not enough to remedy institutional racism; in 2013, 70% of Afro-Peruvians reported avoiding medical attention out of fear of racial discrimination. Not simply disadvantaged, Afro-Latinos are often erased altogether from the national narrative. It was only in 2015 that Mexico’s census bureau included ‘Afro-Mexican’ as a category on its national survey. Its inclusion resulted in 1.4 million Mexicans coming to the light as identifying within this obscured demographic.

On the other hand, to the rest of the world Afro-Latinos are constantly on the defensive to ‘prove’ that they really are Latino.

Given the absence of representation, the misconception that all Latinos share a single ethnicity is not incomprehensible.

There are an estimated 100 million people of African descent in Latin America, and despite this brown or black Latinos are rarely found in telenovelas, music videos, or on the news, where images of light-skinned, straight-haired Latinos of European descent dominate. Moreover, the profound and undeniable influence of the African diaspora on the music,

headed by white Latinos like Luis Fonsi and J Balvin, the lack of acknowledgement and representation given to black Latinos is troubling and unfair.

Afro-Latino representation is increasing, but not fast enough.

Orange Is The New Black and The Get Down provide examples of recent popular culture in which the presence of Afro-Latinos in the US is acknowledged and celebrated. Whilst encouraging, this representation focuses largely on lightskinned or biracial black Latinos.

Rarely do we see Afro-Latinos with afros on television. These examples are also from the US. In stark contrast, black Latinos are still obscured from the media in their native countries, where programmes exploring what it means to be an Afro-Latino are non-existent.

Moreover, that an exhausting and repetitive debate is still recurring reveals how far this patchy representation has to go. In a 2012 red-carpet interview with Latino broadcaster Telemundo, Suits actress Gina Torres expressed her surprise at being spoken to in English by the Hispanic interviewer. Of course, the assumption that the Cuban actress couldn’t speak Spanish was due to the colour of her skin. Equally infuriating, the comments are full of ‘compliments’ about Torres’s ability to speak (her native) Spanish.

These

religion and culture of Latin America and the Caribbean is overlooked. Many aspects considered characteristically ‘Latino’ (now marketed to the rest of the world as such) have their origins in the experience and creativity of African-descended communities and individuals. For illustration, one only has to turn to the impactful legacy of Afro-Cuban artist Celia Cruz on salsa. Similarly, other music styles like reggaeton and bachata trace their heritage to black Latinos. As this music becomes increasingly popular outside the Spanish-speaking world,

comments

are

echoed in the recent debate surrounding Cardi B and Amara La Negra, epitomising the continued erasure and prejudice faced by Afro-Latinos.

Often discussion has centred on whether these figures have a ‘right’ to identify as black, and their motives for doing so. Ultimately, criticism which invalidates the blackness of these celebrities is not rooted in concern about legitimate issues like colourism, white-passing privilege, antiblackness or institutional racism. It is based in a failure to acknowledge that you can be both black and Latino. This denial exacerbates the lack of attention given to these issues. Being made visible through representation is empowering; an end to the whitewashing of Latin America in the portrayal of Latinos, in the media and in national narratives, will bring about a dawn in long overdue representation, strengthening the ability of Afro-Latino communities to make visible their obscured issues and demand change.

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THE DAWN OF A LEGACY

By Oluchi Ezeh

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Artwork by Ezi Wear

Black Panther : the afrofuturist superhero phenomenon that took over 2018. Never before had there been a blockbuster movie so unapologetically Black, both in cast and crew, and with it came the dawn of a new Black heroism, where Black heroes were no longer secondary characters, but the main event. Helmed superbly by director Ryan Coogler, Black Panther has raised the bar for superhero films, making over $1 billion dollars worldwide and becoming the highest-grossing solo superhero movie ever. It is easy to heap praise on the film – for its wonderful cast, its beautiful cinematography and its sensational dedication to depicting African beauty (costume designer, Ruth Carter, is incredible) – but not to look deeper at the legacy he has created would be to ignore what Coogler has so intricately worked into the film. With this film the Black community sees and understands itself – our familial relationships, what it means to be diaspora and what this film means for the future of cinema. This film is a cultural event, incredibly deserving of the hype and marking a milestone in Black cinema.

So I give to you, my Wakandan warriors, the dawn of Black Panther’s legacy in three parts:

ACT ONE

Baba, tell me a story…

These opening words are spoken by the villain of the story, Erik Killmonger, (Michael B. Jordan), as a child asking his father to tell him about Wakanda, and establishes the first legacy the film explores: the father and the son. Like Coogler’s previous film, Black Panther is fascinated by what we choose to take forward from our elders. We have T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), who at first idolises his father, T’Chaka, but then must forcibly come to terms with T’Chaka’s failings and realise he is not the man he believed him to be. Then we have Erik who also idolises his father but never comes to the understanding T’Challa does, never realises his father’s extremity and wrongs. By having their arcs mirror each other, Coogler reminds us of what a villain should be, yet often isn’t; the protagonist of his own story. Erik doesn’t act like a man the script has created to make things difficult for T’Challa (as is often the case with Marvel villains), he behaves like a man on his own journey, destined to meet T’Challa on the way.

Jordan’s brilliant performance shows us Erik’s hatred and rage masks vulnerability and gives us an unforgettable, entirely relatable villain. Both men carry forward the work of their fathers, but most important is the ability to acknowledge where our ancestors failed, and where we might succeed: as viewers, we find ourselves in Erik, striving to right the injustices our parents faced, as well as in T’Challa, on a journey to push our people forward without dismissing where we came from.

ACT TWO

Maybe your home is the one that’s lost. That’s why they can’t find us.

Yet drawing from the experiences of your ancestors is only so accessible, and so we find ourselves at the second

legacy: the continent and the diaspora. At times feeling like a broken legacy, the sense of distance between both groups is articulated masterfully through Erik’s frustration at Wakanda’s abandonment of him and his father, and through Coogler’s cinematic choices. The music, skilfully engineered by Ludwig Goransson, contains leitmotifs for each character – a notable example being the Senegalese inspired Dora Milaje call which signifies a coming battle. Erik’s movements are underscored by trap beats and T’Challa uses traditional drums, emphasising their conflict and the difference between the diaspora and the continent that often feels inherent. This disconnection is what makes those beautiful scenes on the ancestral plane so poignant; for many members of the diaspora who do not know where they come from and cannot hope to know, the idea of being able to speak to and physically interact with your ancestors, to connect with those who kneeled so you could stand, who walked so you could run, is a dream unrealised.

The soaring violins that play in these moments, the swirl of the purple and blue skies are as emotional as they are beautiful catching us between a visual dusk and dawn.

Here Coogler and Goransson realise a diaspora dream, creating a film as much for the diaspora as it is for any Marvel fan.

ACT THREE

I must take up the mantel, I must…

And here we reach the final legacy: the future of film.

Just as the characters within the film learn from those who came before them, Black Panther draws on a legacy of Afrofuturism, an aesthetic movement that has shaped Black culture for years due to its central tenet: imagine an Africa that did not suffer from colonialism but instead could take advantage of its own wealth and resources for a prosperous future. This is what has inspired creatives such as Octavia Butler, Sun-Ra and Nnedi Okorafor for years. But for as long as cinema has existed, a prosperous Africa in control of itself has seldom, if ever, been shown.

In an age where multiple, layered Black stories are being told, where Black storytellers are pushing their way to the forefront of cinema, TV and theatre , Black Panther carves a seat for itself and then extends the table. In the mainstream, we are seeing dark-skinned Black women as complex lead love interests while also being warriors, spies, and technological geniuses. Black Panther, like its hero, takes up the mantel of change. Rather than knock the buildings down where his father killed his uncle, T’Challa chooses to build on them something new, to take the trauma of the past and channel it into a better future, and with this film Coogler and all involved do the same in the real world. So here rises Black Panther, at the dawn of a new age of cinema. An age of Black heroism, storytelling and complexity. What a joy it is that we can rise with it.

WAKANDA FOREVER.

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Artwork by Amani Hepburn

II: SUN She is tired.

She has been here longer than Him, She works hard and her feet ache but her body is alarm-clocked always Racing the Dawn, always winning.

She takes up the battle-cry Of the day with clasped hands, Her lips moving like a prayer Heard but not seen, Her head bows She is tired; And she is as resilient as An unsetting sun.

- Theophina Gabriel 80

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Photography by Theophina Gabriel

A New Portrait It is breakfast in the dining hall, I gaze around, Paintings of white men, I slowly close my eyes, And to my surprise, There is a new portrait, A natural brown glow, Her sweet smile is penetrating, I am overcome by joy, I look more closely, She is wearing my gold necklace, We are now face to face, I open my eyes, It is now bright outside, Our light will not subside.

Adanna Anomneze-Collins

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LIGHT I have been enclosed in an abundance of darkness With no vision of a way out Realities weigh down on me like sacks of dead weight. I just can’t seem to feel hope anymore.

And the love it shines fills my lungs like February’s cold air.

It grabs my attention and shakes me awake.

I no longer see light – I am blinded by it But then a light entered my The light life that is The blistering brightness you startles at first, And suddenly, Pupils shrinking in fear The days don’t seem so But adjustment comes dark anymore. slowly, you see Eventually, I begin to trust - Danel Daley the light

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AURORA

Dawn is here and my whole world is waking up with you in my arms.

-M.Triea

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with thanks to...

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miners of this issue:

Ruha

Akhtar, Jerry

Amokwandoh, Olayemi

Anifowose-Eso, Yash

Bagga, Manoj Balla,

Grace Barrington, Jonathan Barrow,

Robyn Boyle, Gil Chambers,

Damayanti Chatterjee, Sade Clarke,

Jonathan Daniel, Issy Davies, Rob Deeks, Samantha Dowie,

Mojoyin Durotoye, Carolina Earle,

Lucy Enderby, Billie Esplen, Kiya Evans, Bea Grant, Charlotte Haley, Lewis Hunt,

Alex Jacobs, Saleha Latif, James Lawbuary, Alexis Luo, Tracey Mwaniki, Amaka Okpalugo, Ebubechi Okpalugo, Mahammad Ouattara, Simisola Oyesanya, Ruth Ramsden-Karelse, Dan Reeder, Susanne Reeder, Peggy Reeder,

Georg Schรถn, Vidhu Sharma, Gabrielle Stapleton, Ella Taylor-Fagan,

Grace Twum, Alex Warren,

University of Oxford

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I: DAWN II: A beautiful, beautiful dawn‌ In the early moments of this first light, we try to see it, but only the insides of our eyelids betray the warmth of a now orange sky. The round gem smooth and cold grows heavy in our palms. We try to lift it to our face but the message is clear; Dawn may dawn a thousand times, but you will never see the beauty of a golden sky if you are asleep. The night is needed, but it can only make a half-seer out of you. Panic sets in, we grip the gem as if we were falling, unsure and in a dream-like state. At once here and not Here. The gem shivers in our hands like a small alarm, as our eyelids begin to squeeze closer and closer together...

Illustration: @ggggrimes