5 minute read
How Did I Get Here? David Jesudason considers the impact that representation can have in an industry sadly still lacking in diversity
How did I get here?
Beer writer David Jesudason considers the positive impact that seeing people of colour in inspirational roles can have on the next generation and future diversity within a sector…
My worst interview ever was when I spoke to a black businessman about ‘success’. He was adamant that he got to the top through hard work alone and the community he once was part of – he grew up in Birmingham – should stop moaning and take their (paltry) opportunities. He, of course, failed to disclose that his second (white) wife was rich, he was able to buy land in the days when it was affordable and was lucky enough to appear on reality TV before it became a cliched career path. It didn’t fit his backstory of graft, initiative and then inevitable success. That’s not to say he didn’t experience racism – he told me that when he was a Tory candidate he was abused and shouted at when canvassing. It doesn’t matter if you’re a road sweeper, bartender or rightwing politician – racism is there waiting for you on our streets. He was a trailblazer, though, and at the top of an industry where only 0.2% are black. But it was a terrible interview because I felt icky transcribing his quotes when I knew success really rained upon him because he had capital and the safety net of his wife’s fortunes. I felt demoralised because there’s no inspiration in this guy’s life other than marry well and change your backstory. But other more disadvantaged people of colour have succeeded against the odds and it’s worth pondering what inspired them. The main one is representation: this is when you see someone who looks like you succeed opening up the possibilities that you can have a similar career. In fact I’m often asked by aspiring writers of colour how I became a ‘successful’ beer writer. They see an article I’ve written that resonates and presumably want the same adulation, prestige and, sadly, hand-tomouth existence –writing about marginalised communities is (spiritually) rewarding in that I’m telling untold stories to a growing, curious audience but is financially demanding as it requires a lot of research. It’s more difficult than profiling, say, a craft brewery or iconic pub; often simple records, such as when landlords took over a pub haven’t been kept by the brewery or the contacts are reluctant to talk as they’ve been ignored by the media (fun fact: 92% of journalists are white and beer writing is one of the least diverse sectors). But unpicking why I’m here writing this column is difficult. I didn’t have encouraging parents who taught me how to be resilient to setbacks, rejection and criticism – I had to learn this through counselling after experiencing a childhood marred by racist trauma. I’m not from a wealthy background – my Malay mum was a nurse and my alcoholic dad of Indian origin spent most of his life unemployed. And I’m not part of any supportive community whether that be South Asian – I was brought up to be British in a white market town – or a graduate network, as I lost touch with everyone who went to my modern university.
Instead I think I’m here because of a handful of black or brown role models. Representation was poor on TV when I was growing up but I would seek out anyone who looked like me. Star Trek may have been searching space for new lifeforms but I was scouring the planet for people of colour – from Nichelle Nichols’s Uhura in the original series to Avery Brooks’s Captain Sisko in Deep Space Nine – that could control the universe. But it was more day-to-day representation that really inspired my writing career. The watershed moment was when I visited my first desi pub (British-Indian pubs, ‘desi’ in this context means South Asian) 20 years ago; the Blue Eyed Maid in Borough, south London run by ‘Jay’ and his team of Asian bouncers. We visited the karaoke bar/sports bar/Indian restaurant late after evening shifts at a nearby newspaper, and Jay changed the default of the landlord: no longer were they an aloof white figure I felt servile towards (I had worked in a lot of pubs up to this point) but a totally different proposition. Someone empowering. That’s why I take my children to the Gladstone, also in Borough, to see brother and sister team Megha and Gaurav Khanna who are the best type of role model – hard-working custodians who nobly ensure everyone is included. It’s a shame though that I can’t take the kids to my local taproom because the brewery has no interest in seeking out members of the diverse community it’s based in – despite profiting from the area and the lower rents it provides. But someone who does the opposite of this and seeks to make their business diverse is one of the strongest role models I can show my kids. And if you think this is an impossible task then let me tell you about Gerry Godbaz who ran the Three Horseshoes in Southall up to a few years ago. The Kiwi became ‘Gerry Singh’ an honorary desi landlord because he loved the area so much by putting on bhangra nights, empowering South Asians and turning it into a community pub for all. And why did he do it? Because diversity and representation are inspiring but, above all, it’s about making everyone feel involved. And when they are touched by this special feeling they’ll love your business and keep coming back. If you succeed I might even visit you - with my kids, of course.
