Dear friend

steven john
5 min readOct 20, 2020

I’ve done a lot of thinking since you DM’d me to ask where I stood on the “cultural appropriation” debate.

Firstly, it’s not a debate.

A debate is adversarial, an invite to argue for or against. Modern debates are also toxic. From political interviews to chat shows, opinions and conjecture are delivered in lieu of knowledge, evidence and research. The current trend for platforming rent-a-gob commentators to talk about other people, rather than engaging with the people living that identity is disturbingly worrying. I don’t understand how people expect to better understand others when they insist on talking about their own perspective rather than listening to those living the identity.

The narrative around cultural appropriation needs to be a conversation. An invitation for the participants to collectively win through mutual engagement and understanding.

And so, to begin a conversation about the appropriation of Black culture without simultaneously considering slavery and the systemic racism black people face today, is to have an incomplete conversation.

  • 86.2% of people in the UK learnt about the Tudors (1485–1603)
  • 7.6% of people learnt about the British colonisation of Africa (1881–1914)
  • 72.6% of people in the UK learnt about the Great fire of London (1666)
  • 9.9% learnt about the role of slavery in the British industrial revolution. (1760–1830)

Source: Impact of Omission

The British population are woefully under-informed and poorly-educated on the topics of racism, colonisation and the impact of the British Empire. This is deliberate. The current system of governance does not want itself to be identified as racist so it does not teach its people how to identify racism for fear of its own hypocrisy.

We don’t debate how many wives Henry VIII had, we know it as a part of our history. We affirm it, rhythmically!

Divorced, beheaded, died.

Divorced, beheaded, survived.

That we collectively remember this abhorrent treatment of six women nearly five centuries ago, yet we still live within a patriarchal society that actively prioritises the wants of men over the needs and rights of women is another tragedy more than worthy of mention.

Put simply, slavery was a black holocaust, legitimised through economics. The many systems that manage our population’s wealth were built with the blood of slaves. Until 2015 black people, via our UK taxes, were repaying slave owners for their loss of property — our ancestors.

Black people were brutalised and traumatised to fuel the growth of the British Empire.

Great salve of slaves 10th January 1855, a list of prices for Bucks and Wenches
For the avoidance of doubt, a Picinniny is a child

My people were categorised as less than human to ease the consciences of white slave owners, a legacy that fuels the white supremacy we still see in our society today.

So yes, you’re fucking right! Black people are particularly sensitive about the appropriation of our culture for the economic gain of a white person when our life opportunities are repeatedly stacked against us by the structures that govern our lives.

  • Black women are more likely to die in childbirth.
  • Black children are discriminated through all levels of education. I recommend Natives by Akala to understand some of the prejudice within British society.
  • Black adults suffer discrimination throughout the jobs market.
  • Black entrepreneurs received just 0.24% of capital in the UK (76% of investment went to teams of all white entrepreneurs)
  • Black people rarely see successful leaders and business people who look like them.

I could go on…

Consider that when you reflect on the privilege of the white entrepreneur. Privilege is their ability to operate within a system designed to retain wealth within a group of people who look like them. Privilege is their ability to use this advantage to monetise elements of black culture while those within that identity remain locked out.

Black entrepreneurs are held back from achieving their potential because they are required to negotiate life hurdles their white counterparts do not realise exist.

In our conversation I cited Jamie Oliver’s “Jerk rice” as an example, so let’s continue that thread. Jamie’s “Jerk rice” is cultural appropriation. “Jerk” is a meat rub. It cannot be rubbed on rice. End of conversation.

Despite any culinary talents they may have, almost the entire black population will never have access to the resources of a celebrity chef that would enable them to make a commercial success of their own food culture.

Yes, you’re right, we don’t know that Jamie didn’t have a black person on this team. Maybe he did. I doubt it though. And let’s say he had a whole three black people “in his team” (spoiler: he didn’t!) how does tokenism benefit the black culture being appropriated? Now contrast that with the story of Levi Roots, the entrepeneur whose blackness is a fundamental part of his business.

If you want a visual representation of what the white celebrity chef should have done when engaging with black food culture, observe Mac Miller surrounding himself, visibly and publicly with an entirely black team of musicians, firmly uplifting members of the culture he is embracing through his artistry.

Mac Miller with a band of five black musicians

Jamie Oliver uplifted his name. His brand. He did not pay into black culture, he took from it. He uplifted his white self at the expense and cost of the culture of my people.

So, in answer to your question where I stand on the conversation of cultural appropriation:

I think sometimes people confuse appropriation with appreciation.

Adele, a white woman born and raised in multi-cultural Tottenham, pictured with black-influenced hair and clothes over (Notting Hill) Carnival weekend is appreciation.

Context defines everything.

So please consider this when you present your well-considered what if questions. What if I’m drawing my entire life’s experience to discuss a subject you’ve only recently started considering? I don’t say that through unkindness, rather to remind that you did not enter this conversation as my equal. Or any other conversation about the impact of racism for that matter.

I wish more people who don’t look like me could be my equal on this topic. It’s achievable, that I know. I lead the Diversity & Inclusion team at the company I work for. My external mentor is a white lady with a deep understanding of the structures and impact of racism. This knowledge is available to everyone prepared to listen and learn.

Lastly, consider this. For being engaged enough to come to me with that question, I say thank you.

You’re actively learning. Your approach was rusty but you’re doing better than most.

I look forward to our next conversation.

We’ll both have learned more.

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