“Leeds Students Welcome Refugees” – Student Societies Show Solidarity with Ukraine

Harriet Purbrick on 28 March 2022

The LUU societies STAR (Student Action for Refugees) and Amnesty International have been organising displays of solidarity with Ukraine around campus. 

Soon after Russia invaded Ukraine, STAR created a banner with the Ukrainian flag in the centre, around which students could write messages of support. This banner was then hung up in the LUU foyer. 

Messages written by students included “justice for the POC fleeing Ukraine” in response to myriad stories of people of colour facing racist discriminiation both as they leave Ukraine and as they try to settle into countries taking in refugees like Poland. Another student wished to show solidarity with ordinary Russians, some of whom have publicly protested the unprovoked invasion, leading to mass arrests, and others have fled to neighbouring countries like Finland, writing “Putin’s war not Russia’s war.” 

Similarly, Amnesty members wrote messages in chalk around campus. Many students protested the British government’s refusal to take in refugees, including turning away 300 at the Channel Crossing at Calais. This response is part of the Home Office’s strategy to neglect their responsibility to take in refugees by passing the controversial Nationality and Borders bill which would leave most refugees seeking asylum with a lesser status with fewer rights (clause 11) and which empowers the Home Office to strip British nationals of their citizenship without notice (clause 9). 

As Rona, the President of LUU Amnesty said, “Our campaign this semester is based on the Nationality and Borders bill, so our aim is to get as many as possible to know about it. We thought the best way to do this was by writing messages in chalk either supporting the refugees coming to the UK or in opposition to the government. Initially it was just about refugees coming to the UK but as the Ukraine war became more of an issue, we knew we had to tie it in somehow. The slogan “no one is illegal” really encapsulates our mindset and Amnesty’s whole stance on the refugee crisis.” 

Last week, LUU Amnesty held their biannual live music event Jamnesty and raised £1044 to be split equally between Leeds Asylum Seekers Support Network which supports refugees and asylum seekers in Leeds and Amnesty International.

LUU Amnesty are continuing to raise money for the charities by selling hand-printed tote bags. Purchases can be made on Engage for £5.50. 

Adultification Bias: the effect of racial prejudice on policing and beyond

Kitty Handford on 25 March 2022

A fifteen-year-old black schoolgirl, known only as Child Q, was strip-searched by police officers in 2020. The police were called because a teacher reported that the girl smelled of cannabis, but no drugs were found; the shocking news has hit the headlines in recent weeks. The disturbing event, which took place in an East London school, has triggered widespread condemnation due to its horrific details.

The young girl was removed from an exam, forced to strip naked whilst menstruating and told to remove her sanitary pad. The police officers subsequently told her to reuse the pad without allowing her to use the bathroom to clean up. 

Following the event, a council report was carried out and concluded that racism was likely to have been an influencing factor. The mother of the girl stated, “Professionals treated her as an adult. She was searched as an adult. Is it because of her skin?” This question is an understandable one, and adultification bias is likely to be a key factor in this horrific incident.

Adultification bias can be understood as a form of racial prejudice in which children of minority groups, particularly black children, are viewed as being more mature or older than they really are. This form of bias is particularly dangerous when it influences authority figures, such as the police. In this instance the young girl was treated as an adult, there was no safeguarding in place, and there were no other adults present in the room. The girl’s mother has described how this despicable incident has transformed her “happy-go-lucky girl [in]to a timid recluse that hardly speaks”. 

Sadly, adultification bias towards black children and teenagers is not a rare occurrence. In 2017 a report was published titled ‘Listening to Black Women and Girls: Lived Experiences of Adultification Bias’. The report found that adults perceive black girls to be more mature and less innocent than their white peers from as young as five years old. Even more disturbing, the report suggested that adults have less empathy for young black girls than for their white peers, whom they view as more innocent, more in need of comfort and more in need of protection.

Negative stereotypes of black women, the report suggests, are a strong influencing factor in the adultification of black girls. These stereotypes of the angry, aggressive black woman and of the hypersexualised black woman often emerge from portrayals of black women in the media, and have become dominant cultural paradigms. These stereotypes become particularly dangerous when they influence the treatment of children by adults in positions of power, such as teachers or, more strikingly in the case of Child Q, by law enforcement. The case of Child Q sadly exemplifies that when professionals perceive children as more adult, their wellbeing, safeguarding needs and rights as children can be diminished or overlooked. 

Jahnine Davis, the director and co-founder of Listen-Up, a company established to amplify lesser heard voices in child safeguarding, spoke on the case of Child Q. She discussed how events like the treatment of Child Q are sensationalised by the media and cause short-lived responses of anger. Instead, she insists that these cases should open up larger discussions of the ‘everyday racist, racialised experiences black children have to navigate and encounter across all systems and services’. Further, she expresses how we must assess, societally, the foundations of adultification bias which affect young boys just as much as girls.

We only have to look as far as the disparity in the policing of drug offences in the UK to see how black males experience prejudice in the criminal justice system. Much research has shown that the policing and prosecution of drug possession in the UK is excessively focussed on black and minority groups. If young black males are being stopped and searched, arrested and prosecuted disproportionately more than their white counterparts, we must consider where adultification bias is coming into play. Young black males, Davis states, are stereotyped as deviants and gang members. These stereotypes, she stresses, dehumanise black children and drastically impact safeguarding duties.

In the aftermath of the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests it is disheartening to be reminded that systemic and institutional racism is still prevalent in the United Kingdom today. Labour MP Diane Abbott writes of how dispiriting this story is, noting that after “decades of marching, demonstrating [and] campaigning, police practice is as bad as ever”. The publication of this report is a stark reminder that there is much still to be done to tackle racism in the United Kingdom. This case sadly indicates that black children in the UK are not safe from mistreatment by the police, even at school, a supposed place of safety.

Header Photo Credit: Unsplash

Former Team GB Athelete Sharon Andrews: “It had its ups and downs, but for the most part, I think it was the making of me.”

Tasha Johnson on 26 October 2021

While the world of sports has certainly come a long way with regards to diversity over recent years, much work still needs to be done to ensure equal treatment of all ethnicities. In honour of Black Liberation and the continuing work ahead, Tasha Johnson speaks to Sharon Andrews, former UK athlete, to discuss her experience competing for Team GB as a black woman.

How Lewis Hamilton is racing against racism in F1

Rishi Shah on 22 January 2021

Sir Lewis Hamilton – by far the standout name on the recently published New Year’s Honours list. Following his recent Sports Personality of the Year (SPOTY) award, the accolades are stacking up for the British F1 driver.

The SPOTY award has long eluded a curiously unpopular Hamilton, despite the fact that before his record-equalling Formula One World Championship title in 2020, he already had six to his name. His recent dominance within the sport has become somewhat of a routine, so one might ask: what was the difference this year that propelled him towards these two glorious honours? The answer lies in an all too familiar issue – the work he has done in the fight against racism, striving for equality and diversity, in the sport and beyond.

So often leading races from the front (quite literally), Hamilton knew that it would be the most impactful if it was him who picked up the mantle that needed to be filled in the summer. George Floyd’s death on 25th May 2020 had invoked a Black Lives Matter movement with momentum unheard of for decades, and Hamilton used his influence as the only black F1 driver as directly as possible. Wearing masks and t-shirts drawing attention to police brutality and the unjust murder of Breonna Taylor highlights his refusal to simply be an F1 driver, alongside his active decision to take a knee and show solidarity with the oppressed before each race.

Hamilton’s motives are deep-rooted, with Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff describing his proactivity in previous years, starting conversations about internal diversity and explicitly flagging up issues surrounding the shortage of minority mechanics employed by the team. Hamilton’s world domination in the context of being the sport’s only black driver has no doubt motivated him to inspire other young fans into believing that anything is possible, no matter your background, as he emotionally re-iterated on the team’s radio following his World Championship victory in Turkey. However, the individuality of his actions has only exacerbated the sport’s clear lack of unity behind such an important cause.

Whilst Premier League football has normalised the gesture of taking a knee, seven F1 drives – which equates to 35% – have refused to join Hamilton in his pre-race demonstrations. Such a global sport, which involves personnel from over six continents, displaying this awkwardly detached sense of social awareness is not only damaging to its reputation, but also a sign of where the genuine problems lie. With an entirely male driver line-up, including many who have family connections in the F1 hierarchy, there are already enough reasons why the sport is inherently restrictive – and its failure to stand with its champion in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter cause only worsens its image. Within the context of social issues, perhaps unsurprisingly, F1’s infamous partnership with Bahrain has long come under fire for the sport’s hierarchy turning the blind eye to its dismal human rights violations. As F1 welcomes a new CEO in 2021, Stefano Domenicali, the man must surely look into these issues to reshape the sport into an inclusive, diverse environment in which anyone can succeed. 

Whilst there are many rumours that Hamilton’s retirement is on the horizon, it is perhaps more important than ever that he remains in the sport and continues to fight for equality. Hamilton admitted this year’s victory felt different, given the added motivation of his unerring desire to utilise his platform for good. These feelings no doubt leave him hungrier than ever to pursue his goal and ensure anyone can enter the sport – regardless of race or background – in any capacity, be it a mechanic, driver or CEO. His efforts in 2020 have sealed Lewis Hamilton’s legacy, not only in his records and titles but as a role model who leads by example by tackling systemic issues in a sport that needs it more than ever.

If Britain can’t handle Diversity’s Britain’s Got Talent performance, how will we ever truly embrace racial diversity?

Estelle Uba on 6 November 2020

Over the past few weeks, there has been a lot of talk in the media surrounding the nation’s response to Diversity’s performance on ITV’s Britain’s Got Talent. On Saturday 5th September, Diversity, a successful street dance group consisting of dancers from a range of racial backgrounds, delivered a powerful dance performance which touched on the events of this year. It highlighted how the global coronavirus pandemic brought the world to a standstill, giving room for the tragic death of George Floyd and those of many other black victims of racial violence to be afforded worldwide attention. The performance stood in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement, echoing the cries for racial equality that have been voiced by the black diaspora all over the world in the past six months.

To my surprise, but not so surprisingly or out-of-character after all, the British public managed to find offence in what was a moving and unifying performance, claiming that Britain’s Got Talent should be a space for entertainment, not political statements. What these critics fail to understand is that blackness is political. In fact, the public outcry that followed Diversity’s performance, evidenced by the 24,500 complaints it received in just over a week, begs the question: will Britain even truly embrace racial diversity? Or, are most Brits so uncomfortable opening up a dialogue about race in their country that race relations in Britain have reached their peak level of progress – a weird grey area between love and hate, a position of mere tolerance on all things black?

Don’t get me wrong. British citizens aren’t completely averse to admitting that racism exists in the world today. What they are opposed to, however, is admitting the state of race relations in Britain today. Great Britain, with its claim to be such a ‘great’ and mighty island, has developed a national worldview which encourages the country to worship and revere itself, whilst criticising others. 

What exactly does this mean? It means that Brits waste no time when it comes to pointing out how explicit and glaring racism in the US or France is, yet would deny the severity of it in their very own territory. It means that, if I as a Black British individual even attempt to voice the cold, harsh reality of racism in Britain amidst White British people, I will be met with rhetoric which invalidates and dismisses my experience. They’d claim a facade of tolerance and racial harmony in Britain with a series of statements like: “Britain is one of the least racist and most tolerant countries in Europe”, “Racism isn’t really much of an issue in Britain anymore” or “We all get along so well in this country. Stop causing a divide,” and finally, my personal favourite: “Stop playing the race card. It probably had nothing to do with you being black.” 

Of course, none of these dismissive statements should anger people of colour, right? Because that’s the ‘British way’, right? Sweeping things under the carpet with the hope that if you ignore them for long enough, they will cease to be a problem. This may seem like a great solution, but the only issue with this is that it only works for White British people, not for people of colour in Britain. By pretending that racism isn’t a British issue, but a foreign, international one, the country does no favours to minority Brits – particularly Black Brits, who, time and time again, bear the brunt of the insidious and deep-rooted racism in this country. In fact, it worsens our experience, making us feel gaslighted and delusional. It’s one thing to experience discrimination, and another to constantly be told that you’re not experiencing discrimination.

The tendency of the British to gaslight its Black British inhabitants is not specific to Diversity. We saw this same attitude manifest itself earlier this year when many Brits attacked Stormzy for voicing that he thought Britain is “100%” racist in an interview with an Italian newspaper, La Repubblica. Despite most news outlets stepping forward to clarify that Stormzy meant that the UK is certainly and most definitely racist, thousands of ignorant individuals decided to run with their presumptions that he was identifying all British people as racist. Ironically, in an attempt to challenge what seemed to them to be a false generalisation, many Brits proved Stormy right by spewing further racist slurs, stating that he – a British native – should “go back to Ghana” if he is unhappy with the status quo in the UK. 

Not long after this incident, we also saw the same thing occur when thousands of Brits called the Brits Award Show to complain when Dave performed ‘Black’ at the 2020 Brits’ Awards. Once again, Britain revealed to 3.8% of its population that it possesses the uniquely fascinating ability to find ‘offence’ in any performance that sheds light on their black experience. Many began spitefully bringing up the fact that one of Dave’s brothers is serving a life sentence in prison for murder, arguing that he should focus on the kind of “black on black violence” perpetrated by his brothers before accusing Britain of racism, as though the two issues are mutually exclusive. Because surely, a black man with two brothers in prison has no business discussing racism until he single-handedly solves the issue of knife crime in London… because black people shouldn’t dare to speak about racism until the black community is violence-free and harmonious. 

This form of respectability politics has been used to silence the black diaspora for centuries. We have always been warned that we must first prove that we are capable of civilisation and humanity before we are treated like civilised human beings. God forbid that we are entitled to decent human treatment, on the sole basis of us being human. No. First, we must come across as respectable and decent. We must earn our spaces on platforms like Britain’s Got Talent and the Brits Awards… and if we dare speak about taboo topics such as racism in our own country, we should immediately be banned from these platforms, and our voice must be taken away, in the same way it was ‘given’ to us by our benevolent white puppet masters. 

This explains why many White British people respond to pro-black, anti-racist performances with a sense of entitlement and ownership towards British media platforms, demanding that platforms like ITV and the Brits ban black performers for simply speaking their mind. According to them, they have the power to simply shut us up when they feel uncomfortable since they kindly ‘allowed’ us to speak in the first place. Yet, when they can’t bear to hear our reality, they’d rather resort to silencing our voices completely, cutting off any opportunity to initiate the dialogue about racism in the UK. 

This sends a message to all of us Black Brits: it tells us that in the UK, we can only speak when what we are saying allows White Brits to sit comfortably in their cosy seats of white privilege. If Britain can’t deal with the harsh truths of British racism, at least enough to silently sit through a harmless Diversity performance, how will we ever be able to embrace racial diversity?


“When White People Are Uncomfortable, Black People Are Silenced”

– Elizabeth Cargle, 2019

The politics of Misogynoir: One of the many barriers which silence and erase black women in the public sphere

Farida Augustine on 7 October 2020

The abuse and hate hurled at black and dark-skinned women who dare to take a seat at the table and speak truth to power is tragically nothing new in politics. However, in the age of social media, twitter trolls and memes, this abuse plays out brutally in our digital spaces and manifests itself in the “real world”.

This form of misogyny has become so acute, that in 2008 the term misogynoir was coined by the academic Moya Bailey to give black women the vocabulary to talk about their experiences.  As researcher Lisa Amanda Palmer highlights, the term describes the gendered and sexualised form of racism faced by black women in popular culture and the current political landscape. However, misogynoir rears its head in all aspects of black women’s lives, having devastatingly tangible and violent consequences.

One extreme example of this was an incident that took place at end of August. A right-wing French magazine published a cartoon depicting a black member of parliament and outspoken afro-feminist activist Danièle Obono, as a slave in chains. This image was accompanied by an equally racist fictional narrative where she finds herself put up for auction in the 18th century. After seeing the images, I was left dumbfounded, asking myself how a magazine, which the French president once described as “very good” could publish an image of a black member of parliament, a human being, as a slave? Worst still, Obono is frequently met with an avalanche of abuse from her fellow politicians and members of the public alike for simply doing her job.

This is by no means a problem unique to the French. Misogynoir is rampant and deep-rooted within the UK political landscape too. This summer alone, I was distressed to read that the Labour MP and former Shadow Women’s and Equalities Minister Dawn Butler was forced to close her constituency office. This was after threats against her and her staff  “drastically escalated” following her defence of  Black Lives Matter protests and after speaking about the impact of COVID-19 on ethnic minorities.  Not only was this an attack on Dawn Butler, but an attack on democracy itself. In an open letter to her constituency, Butler frankly stated that the windows of her office had been smashed through by bricks and that she continues to:  “receive on an almost daily basis, threats of violence and death threats”.  Though, she went on to add defiantly that: “I will never be threatened into silence and will continue to speak out and speak up for all of my constituents in Brent Central”.

The labour antisemitism report leaked in April also painted a dark and depressing image of the endemic nature of anti-black racism and misogynoir within the labour party and politics more generally. For years I saw Labour as leading the fight against racism within mainstream politics, but no longer feel that way today. Racism and misogyny are not just confined to the ultra-right or the depths of twitter troll land but are present on all sides of the political spectrum. The dossier confirmed that; unearthing the vile treatment and bullying that black women were subject to by members of their own party.  Upon her appointment to the shadow cabinet, senior staff jokingly dismissed Dawn Butler’s serious allegations of racism as “untrue”. Similarly, the leaked document revealed how a senior staff member used  “a classic racist trope” to insult Diane Abbott; the first black woman to be elected to parliament and longest-serving black MP. Despite her popularity within her constituency, retaining her seat for over 30 years, a 2017 report revealed that Abbot receives more online abuse than any other MP. 

Perhaps, what these blatant attacks on a black woman painfully shows is just how commonplace the dehumanisation of black women has become.  These attacks usually rely upon racist and sexist tropes that portray black women as angry, undesirable, animalistic and ultimately undeserving of their humanity or your empathy. Despite attempts to silence these phenomenal women, they still continue to fight and stand up for what they believe in. They refuse to be invisible and refuse to be silent. In the words of Dianne Abbott: “the abuse and the attacks have never made me falter”. Yet the heavy burden of misogynoir should not be left upon the shoulders of black women to carry alone. We must struggle, collectively to rid it from our body politic. While I don’t have all the answers, what I do know is that we have to go beyond “diversity and inclusion” or unconscious bias training to achieve this. This can be summed up by author Lucy Ko’s tweet: “The revolution will not be diversity and inclusion trainings”. The presence of black women and other marginalised communities in parliament is vital to keeping our democracy alive and we must remove the barriers that stop them from getting there.