UNDERPASS
II
‘RACE’ ELLA MARSHALL/SAMUEL ROWE/SHABBAZ/CATHY DAVIES/GBOYEGA ODUBANJO/JAMES BARRETT/BECKY LAMMING/OSCAR DJAMA TUCKETT/ ALEXANDER HURLEY/ FERGUSON/LONDON/BALTIMORE/UNDERPASS MAG,NORWICH, UK
__________________________________________________ Issue #2/ 29.05.15 / ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO THE CONTRIBUTORS
EDITOR’S NOTE Race as a concept, social construct and lifestyle is something that for me personally I was anxious about sharing and ultimately pursuing. In
an exclusive environment such as university, where faux-liberalism and false acceptance of supposed social norms are key, my hope was that Underpass could uncover some of the dangers in racial complacency. For fear of sounding too anecdotal, I shan’t go into detail. Nonetheless, in living my life as a student, I have been both witness and victim to racial discrimination, racial erasure as well as false alliance when expressing my view. I have been angry, sad, disappointed, but largely bewildered at how ignorance can continue to exist and to a cynical extent, be praised. Underpass has collected some stories and ideas ranging from many different perspectives and I’m proud to support a healthy exploration of the ideas, thoughts and feelings, both similar and foreign to me.
CANDICE NEMBHARD
Location: St Stephens Street Underpass, Norwich Photographer: CN
Ella mars
shall
“State violence is an international epidemicâ€?*. The words of Kadisha Burrell Brown summed up the message that the Ferguson Solidarity Tour UK was determined to spread. That is, the reality that racist brutality from the police and other state institutions, especially against Black people, exists not only in the US but also in the UK, and beyond. In each of the UK cities included on the tour, the events acted as a forum in which people could come together to discuss how this structural violence operates and to think about how to resist it. On the discussion panel in Birmingham, alongside other prominent local campaigners and, from LA, key note speaker Patrisse Cullors (one of the three [queer] women to have initiated the #BlackLivesMatter movement in the States), were Kadisha Burrell Brown [1] and Tippa Naphtali [2] , both of whom became social justice campaigners after they each had one of their family members killed at the hands of the state. Present also in the audience were the families of other young Black men from the West Midlands who had been murdered by the authorities, whether that be the police, security guards, or even when under the 'care' of NHS medical staff. Some of the key points of discussion unfolded something as follows‌
“
“We need to educate Black people on how to become better integrated into mainstream society to enable them to better navigate their way around it and get more Black representation. We need to start getting our communities to vote, to teach them about their legal rights, encourage them to become school governors, pressure our government to teach Black history as part of the school curriculum…” “As a Black female Labour politician, I can tell you that the only way to make any change is at the tables of power”.
“Of course change can happen outside of party politics! Politics can take place on the streets... Look at Ferguson!” “It doesn’t matter who you vote for or represent as a Black politician. They’re all racist. As a Black politician you are simply representing their policies; those parties are not in any sense representing Black people or their interests.”
“We need to focus on what unites rather than on what divides!” “Some people seem to have a problem with using the term ‘Black’ to identify the racial status of themselves or others, rather than specifying their particular background, whether it be Nigerian, Jamaican, Somalian, Barbadian… But this ignores the existence of structural oppression against people of colour. Police aren’t going to ask or care where you come from; they will see your black skin and act accordingly.”
“WE
MUST STOP APOLOGISING FOR BEING BLACK!!*”.
“It is important for Black people to create our own political and economic autonomy and take control of our own communities.”
“But we have to be careful not to isolate ourselves and isolate others from us...”
The tension between striving for Black autonomy or for greater assimilation – a conflict well-known within struggles against white supremacy - emerged. Central to this, an anxiety over representation presented itself, most transparently expressed with the question,
“How can we challenge the media's role in the under- and mis- representation of issues relating to Black people?” [3] “We cannot rely on mainstream media to represent us. We must create our own media through which to represent ourselves.”
”
Mike Brown 20/05/1996 - 09/08/2014
Mark Duggan 15/09/1981 - 04/09/2011
As the discussion began to move towards a greater focus upon practical strategies for effective action, in the audience the mother of Julian Webster expressed her concern that she felt things were getting off-topic, abstracted from the real, concrete experiences of individual cases by talk of faroff-seeming change. She explained how, in 2009, her 24year old son was killed by bouncers outside a Manchester club as he tried to get back in to collect his forgotten mobile phone. The bouncers had used excessive force to restrain him, holding him in a headlock for over 8 minutes, preventing him from breathing and causing a cardiac arrest, which led to his death at the scene [4]. Though commenting that she felt contented by the annual news segments produced by ITV on the incident, she seemed to remain determined for her son's story to be heard, and for it to be told from the mouth of his mother. “If he had been white this wouldn’t have happened. If black security guards did that to a white kid it would have been an entirely different story�. And with her closing comments, our focus was inevitably returned to the larger issue in which his case unavoidably sits the undeniable existence of a culture plagued by racism.
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3.
from jars to a single case Corvus corone encased alone Arbitrary note In Danish krage wings seeping into the breast silent in phonetic echoes of Craig My father Wings 4. Prearranged into a shield or shroud Head cocked Beak open Bizarre unknown caw
SAMUELROWE
Nappy hair, thickened lips, wrong half of the Dulux race chart, darkest side of half-caste, atop some phallic building with an Aryan-blonde docile thing in veined arms; Lady won’t mind a little dirt underneath my fingernails, crooning to her blue-eyed soul and king of rock and roll. Sip champagne from the ebony buttocks of some callipygian goddess with the nappy hair, thickened lips and nose obese. I can be the Negro ink on your Caucasian sheets. So you stand, right hand wrapped round that circumcised gun. ‘I’ve never had a black man before,’ you say. One of a cruder kind would’ve said nigger – shoot shoot the runner. So I raise my hands, counting because there’s too many names not to forget. But she’s not racist, because she’s wearing a black low-cut dress.
GBOYEGA ODUBANJO SHABBAZ
SHABBAZ
London native, Coops is easily making waves in the hip hop scene. With his smooth samples, and candid lyrics surrounding working class life, it’s easy to see why his mixtape Lost Soul is a must have for chill nights. For more, check his soundcloud/coopsofficial.
New York will forever be a hub of innovation, creativity and style; no doubt hiphop/rap trio Ratking are apart of that. Wiki and Hak’s tongue twisting metaphors teemed with Sporting Life’s crazy good productions is the reason why King’s 2014 debut album So it Goes will be one to keep up with. With UK collabs such as King Krule and Skepta under their belt, you’d be damned if you didn’t catch them in Norwich playing the Boom Bap Festival 5th –7th June. Tickets are available online .
Now unless you’ve been hiding under a rock, you’d have missed out on the oncoming wave of rap fronted by women, trans women and non-binary persons. Barf Troop who have been going steady as a group and individual rappers, are pushing forward a strong message of family, esteem and autonomy. With shoutouts and support from Drizzy himself, it’d be worth joining their movement. Visit their soundcloud/barftroop.
Formerly known as Wavy Spice, Nokia has been in the music game since she was sixteen. Her and her fellow New York spitters; Dai Burger, Le1f and Mykki Blanco, have been making circuits round both North America and the UK. With great influence from anime, technology and of course, the future, Nokia’s sound is both captivating with a vocal ability that suits both melody and the harsh sound of the New York underground scene. Check out her extended mixtape Metallic Butterfly, available on her soundcloud/wavy-spice.
Also making moves on the London scene, is smooth rapper Loyle Carner. His debut EP A Little Late could not have come at a better time. His flow and themes are often matched with other SE rappers like Rago Foot or Jadasea, but a key marker for him is the nu soul skool beats sample matched with clever grammar. He’s a genuine as it gets and should be a staple in any music library,
SHABBAZ
If you took the soul of Erykah Badu and matched it with the flare and sexuality of Lil Kim and Foxy Brown, that still would not come close to the genius of Junglepussy, New York seems to be making moves at the moment, but it’s not without reason. Junglepussy who first made small headlines with her Youtube debuts injects sex positive feminism into beats expertly produced to make you listen and dance crazy. With support from her friend Princess Nokia, the power and beauty that is Junglepussy can be heard on her self released debut album, Satisfaction Guaranteed.
CATHY DAVIES Diary Entry: August 5th 2011 White bodies on white beaches on the bright Jamaican shore The smell of salt from sea and sweat, Disguise the scent of stale regret, When the subtle details can be ignored no more,
Guilt growing like a tumour of awareness on my skin, My pale flesh crawls with clarity, Of cut-throat, cruel reality, And traces of an empire lie in the eyes of men, Who shout ‘white pork’ at tourists as they leave the holiday inn
When I was 15 I wrote terrible poetry, smoked cheap cigarettes and visited Jamaica with my family. This was a big deal since it was our last ever family holiday and it was supposed to be pretty special. My parents had wanted to go ever since I could remember and we never could afford it but something about taxes or bonuses meant we could now and in the most luxurious way possible. My Dad was born in Mandeville. He lived there up until he was 13 and my rich, white grandparents decided to send him to a British private school. Now, in his 50s, he speaks with an R.P British accent and wears ties and white shirts to work every day. UKIP members hand him flyers in the street. The only way you could guess where he’s actually from is when he complains that fruit isn’t sweet enough. Despite all this, I can’t shake the feeling that my Dad is constantly cold.
I didn’t really know what revenue was. It wasn’t like that everywhere though. When we had to go to town people shouted ‘white pork’ at us and glared. I’d stare back incredulously wondering how people were wearing suits in the stifling heat. My Mum absolutely delighted in the attention we got, finding it nothing short of exotic and amusing. I felt cripplingly embarrassed. I just wanted to point at my Dad and shout, ‘He’s from here! We could easily have been born here! And anyway, we bring in revenue!’ But instead I always just looked down and flinched.
After I’d been there about a week I started to get more comfortable with the locals that hung around the tourist areas. They flirted with me which I was eternally grateful since I was pretty sure I was awkward-looking in England, all overbite and bad skin. I was sat on a rock outside the villa sharing a joint with a guy who We were staying in a tourist villa by swore his name was God. He was there every day Treasure Beach, a beach my family used to own a and humoured all the tourists and I liked him part of. They generously sold their plot, along because he was funny and he let me share his with their summer house, so that other rich weed without telling my parents. He must’ve white people could use it too. My Dad wanted to been about 40 but he said he was 18. rent it for reasons of childhood nostalgia. We ‘You don’t look 18.’ were going to see old relatives that I’d never met or heard of. My Dad explained all this to us with ‘I’m God, it’s stressful.’ a contented smile on his face. I was slammed in I nodded like I understood. I always said the middle seat while the car lurched over potholes wishing I’d slept on the plane. I was carsick that I’d be an atheist until there was tangible eviand exhausted but I leaned round my brother to dence that God existed and I think for a few mostare out the window since the sunset was prob- ments I was close to a spiritual awakening but ably one of the prettiest I’d ever seen. People sold thankfully I was interrupted. fruit and donuts in the middle of the road and ‘Are you American?’ He asked. I shook my traffic had to slow and swerve to avoid them. head. There were metal sort of sheds everywhere and I wondered whether they just sold things or if ‘English.’ people actually had to live in them. My Dad grew ‘English!’ he said, pointing to his shoes. I up with 2 houses and part of a beach. stared at them. Black, slip on smart shoes that It’s difficult to pinpoint, but I think those were well-worn and covered in sand. ‘Clarks two weeks in Jamaica may have been the first shoes!’ time I was made aware of my whiteness in any meaningful way. Whenever we pulled over to ask ‘Oh yeah,’ I said. for directions there’d be about 12 people rushing ‘Do you like them?’ to our rolled-down window volunteering to help. I was told they liked tourists like us because we ‘Yeah,’ I nodded, ‘they’re good.’ bought in revenue.
I hated Clarks. That was the shop I was dragged to every year to get sensible school shoes which I always hid after the first day and wore combat boots and black converses. I remember how cringingly embarrassing it was to have them bring out the little foot measuring thing that my Mum insisted on using despite the fact that I’d been a size 5 for about 4 years. My sister told me that the fact that God was proud to have Clarks shoes was sad. She said it was a sign of Westernisation and colonialism and that it was time I became aware of what it meant to be privileged. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant. I knew looking around our fancy holiday villa that my Dad used to own as a summer home that it was true and I didn’t know how to go about responding. Pity would be condescending. Indignation would be hypocritical. Guilt seemed stable, I thought. I’d write terrible poems about feeling guilty for being white and middle-class and that way since I was acknowledging it I wouldn’t have to feel bad about the fact I was writing it next to an outdoor swimming pool. I felt proud that I was clever enough to feel guilty and then guilty that I was proud of myself since I hadn’t changed anything and was still benefitting for everything. I was 15 I wrote terrible poetry, smoked cheap cigarettes and started trying not to be a total dick all the time. Silver linings are everywhere though and now I’m proud to say I’ve met God and prouder still to add that he’s a black, Jamaican weed-dealer who resides on Treasure Beach.
Who taught you to hate the texture of your hair? ... Who taught you to hate yourself
Reasons have been given again and again.
What if those who do the worst of the mocking look just like you?
Again and again.
What if you believe it to be the only way you will receive attention?
It is tough and thick and kinky and hard to maintain.
After all, that is what they like, right?
Very hard. Too hard. It is painful and induces headaches and hurts too much. Who taught you to hate yourself? It takes time. Too long. To maintain. Who taught you that you are not beauToo time consuming. tiful the way you are? It is a means of taking care, of keeping it healthy. It is a protective style. It is fashion.
The way you were born? Those who made you believe all this and more have never ceased in reinforcing those beliefs.
In vogue. Style.
And here is but one soul.
It is one thing
But a voice.
Or another.
A voice wanting you to know.
It is anything you wish it to be.
You, who looked in the mirror and said to yourself,
But
I shall feel no shame. I will be proud of who I am.
What if it is deeper than that, much deeper?
I am making a statement.
What if you are ashamed?
Yes, you
What if you have grown up to believe
Are beautiful.
You
To believe you are not beautiful? You are other? You lack style? Even that you are broke? What if it is because you believe not everyone can “rock� that look? That look?
Shabbaz
OSCAR DJAMA-TUCKETT
Here in Britain, you will frequently hear talk of diversity, multiculturalism, equality and a globalised society being bandied about public airways almost incessantly; it has virtually become a cliché of our collective existence, but do these messages adequately summarise our socioeconomic reality? There has undoubtedly been progress since the industry-fuelled xenophobia of post-colonial Britain, but it would be ignorant to suggest that there are no longer any smouldering remnants of a strained relationship between some ethnic Britons and the country’s substantial immigrant population in our new-look society – you need only observe the radical shift in general public opinions on immigration in the years following our most recent recession to realise that the certain people’s preconceptions are never too far from the surface when a scapegoat becomes available.
However, this animosity is not exclusively reserved for those born overseas; racism, overt or otherwise still poses an ineluctable problem for large swatches of Britain’s non-indigenous population on a near-daily basis, particularly for those who are not deemed observationally equivalent (i.e. those of non-European origin). National statistics show that black people are twenty six times more likely to be stop-and-frisked than their white counterparts in some parts of the country, twice as likely to be unemployed at a young age and around 20% more likely to be convicted of a similar crime. These figures make for bleak reading, a strong indictment of the extent to which we still struggle with institutionalised discrimination.
These problems a lack of prominent relationships on p guest appearance these issues are sw time again, allowi sectors of public would be far more volved. Following Lawrence, the pub transpired and as upon by media ou elusive issue of rac ty to be properthe first “Blac much six tim w a y stop-an recent whi of Mike Eric Gargered widespread tragedy was a mil and its effects can very day; there ar and minority mem were 20 years ag doubtedly becom entity in this perio dent in urban Brit in our contempor 21st century.
Despite this, it wo now live in a fully incident involving the black commut us a chilling remin
are exacerbated by a distinct t social commentators on racial public airwaves besides the odd e on Question Time. Instead, wept under the carpet time and ing animosity to fester in some c life, when addressing them e constructive for everybody ing the 1993 murder of Stephen blic were appalled at what had s a result the story was seized utlets nationwide, allowing the cial imbalances in British sociely discussed for time, in ck people are twenty the same mes more likely to be that the nd-frisked than their killings ite counterparts.” Brown and ner have trigd race debates in the US. The lestone in British race relations n still be seen and heard to this re now 4 times as many black mbers of parliament than there go and youth culture has unme a much more cosmopolitan od too – this is particularly evitain and is beautifully reflected rary music and fashion in the
ould be folly to suggest that we y integrated society – the recent g some idiotic Chelsea fans and ter in France last week offered nder of that – and despite Brit-
ain’s younger generations exhibiting greater levels of mutual understanding and cultural integration than those in previous years, the transition has not been as smooth as many would have hoped. In fact, it could be argued that this is a by -product of other cultures being stifled by an overriding ‘pop culture’, with Ed Sheeran, an ethnic Briton’s recent acquisition of the coveted Music of Black Origin award for Best Song in 2014 being cited by some as a recent example of this perceived social gentrification. Overall as a nation, we have indeed come a long way with regards to the promotion of equality since the fall of the British Empire, but if we rest on our laurels and begin patting each other on the back now, then we run the risk of stagnation or even, given the current economic and political climate, regression if we are not prepared to have more rationalised, intelligent discussions about the issues that still remain with regards to race. It may seem optimistic, but it would truly be wonderful to one day witness a culturally diverse, yet completely socially integrated Britain take shape.
UNDERPASS
Throughout our lives we are faced with decisions as simple as the choice of words or the phrasing of a sentence, that affect not only us, but those around us: sometimes family and friends, at times a stranger with whom we interact but a fraction of a day's time. The significance we give to these exchanges usually varies naturally, we care more for a close friend, than a brief acquaintance. Yet, we fail to comprehend the impact our exchanges have on our loved ones and even more so on the odd passer-by. We are focused on ourselves, our issues and plans. The words we use to communicate often reflect this: we want to get straight to the issue, find out the latest. We boil down what we're trying to say into just a few words, leave out a tad of politeness here, and a bit of tact there. We forget communication is a two-way bargain. "How can you be such a barbie-girl?", "you're such a nerd", "you're never late because you're German", "you only dance so well because you're black". While some of these phrases may be more hurtful than others, all of them have something in common: they lack depth, and understanding. It is easy to generalize and label an action, or a person, especially when we try to make a point. In the process we often neglect how our choice of words affect others; we forget there's more to someone than what we can see or understand at that moment. "I'm just trying to make a point." - of course it's asking too much to comprehend a person in his (or her) entirety, especially during a brief and singular encounter. Taking a moment's time to think about your words, maybe rephrase them, however, is never asking too much. Consider how a label you are about to give someone may make them feel, or your-
s
E i d d p w w f t n g
U w o w c e a
A c p
T u s a s
self if it were given to you.
Essentially, this act of empathy, extending yourself to the other, is what makes the difference. Consider the phrase: “You only dance so well because you’re black” – or is it perhaps because dancing is something you enjoy, you’ve been practicing, or you’re passionate about. And not because of the colour of your skin, or what people may associate with it. The phrase lacks depth in a way that it prevents conversation or exchange with others. It fails to understand that we are the sum of our experiences, rather than a singular characteristic, a simple label to a box. Would it not be more interesting to say: “Tell me how you’ve gotten such a good dancer?”. Exchange, understanding - a conversation.
As long as we assume, as long as we label, there will be a lack of connectedness between us. Using racial labels maintains a divide - often subtle, but noticeable - which a long-lasting history of preconceptions and often lack of education have formed.
Think about your words, give them depth and meaning, try to understand and have a real conversation in the meantime. Instead of calling somebody something, ask them about anything – and finally discard ideas of differences that you think you can see.
Alexander hurley
Using labels, prevents us from reaching out to and connecting with others. It happens sometimes interacting with our loved ones, when we’re busier with ourselves. But it also happens when we interact with strangers – or foreigners. We have preconceptions and use stereotypes, which hinder us from being empathetic and understanding where someone is coming from, and not just in the literal sense.