One question has always been asked of me as a black woman: Which type of discrimination comes first; being black or being a woman?
Before 2016, it was the Barack or Hillary dilemma. Would and could America elect a black man or a white woman? I can tell you this: what’s between my legs hurts me first, followed by what shade it’s packaged in. Society could deal with a man, regardless of colour, but a woman—that was one step too far. And being both black and female? Well, we all know the abuse Diane Abbott MP has had to wade through every damn day since 1987. And Donald Trump’s recent tweets about his own country’s ethnic minority congress-women give you an idea of how far we have to go.
It’s therefore all the more important that women – of all colours – are represented in the media, but too often, black women are invisible. That’s evidenced by white women speaking on black issues, as was the case this week when BBC Radio 4′s Women’s Hour aired segment about black women and childbirth. It’s important to note the contributors to the programme were all from BAME communities – but nevertheless, the presenter, Jenni Murray, was white.
That’s why we also hear Nick Robinson trying to explain the cultural prominence of Beyoncé. Or why white Sunday Times writers pen articles on prominent US black female rappers.
In TV, the same problems arise. ITV’s flagship daytime programme Loose Women is dominated by white women. You can go for eight hours straight on TV and radio and not see or hear a black female presenter or actress until Eastenders, Corrie or Holby City start at eight – and that’s where we stay, dancing or cooking or on the soaps.
“I’m wracked with stone cold embarrassment when African-American women come to Britain and say: “Where are you all?””
I’m wracked with stone cold embarrassment when African-American women come to Britain and say: “Where are you all?”
Let me be very clear: If you’re talking about a black issue on TV, radio or in print – black people should be the ones leading the debate. End of discussion.
I remember writing an article, which is now being turned into a book, about the Laws of Being a Woman. A senior producer at the BBC told me they would discuss it on BBC Radio One Xtra, a station that caters to black music and urban culture. Why? I can only fathom that it was because I was a black woman first, and that’s where my voice “belonged”. I remember having to justify my refusal by saying, “I can’t rap or twerk about this issue”.
So if black is too loud and proud to be heard or seen on Radio 4 or BBC One, then where can we be heard? The digital era should have democratised representation on our screens, as it has online where creators are more ethnically diverse. But it’s clear many black women have become tired of waiting – and instead are making their own content. And more power to them.