I grew up in a white world. I had three childhood experiences of meeting Black people. Sometimes 'mission priests' came to our parish to visit and say Mass. At Lent we saved money for the 'Black babies' in Africa. Later, two Black children came to the local orphanage and then one day they were gone. Later again, our neighbour's son brought home his fiancee from England. She was a Black woman. None of us children had ever seen a Black woman face to face so we visited the house often.
We overheard our parents talk about how hard life would be for them as a couple because of their 'differences'. One parent went so far as to say that she 'pitied their future children' for how hard their lives would be. My parents talked about their time in London and how hard it was to find a place to live with all the signs that said 'No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish'.
In university I made friends with a Ghanaain woman. She was a lovely, warm, open woman and a good friend to me. In the 1980's I went back to London, an economic migrant like my parents. In London I became more aware of being Irish than I had ever been. I learned that I had to be cautious about what I said and where I said it. I learned that there were places where I was welcome and places where I was not.
I worked in Social Services. And I worked hard. I learned what it means to be a member of an ethnic minority group. I had my first experience of being wheeled out to show how 'enlightened' my boss was. In another job, I became so frightened by peoples' atitudes and the pervasive use of the Prevention of Terrorism Act at the time, that I made arrangements for colleagues to enquire at the Police Station if I did not show up for work. (Under the PTA, Irish people were being picked up and held without charge for 72 hrs.)
One memorable night, my friends and I wandered into the wrong neighbourhood. A man pulled a flick knife on one of our group and told us to 'f##k off back to where you came from.' Thankfully no-one got hurt. We never thought to contact the police. I learned that sometimes it was safest not to open my mouth and speak because then no-one would know that I was Irish. A Black colleague of mine commented 'at least you have the choice to stay silent and hidden..we don't have that choice.'
This was a defining moment in my understanding of what it is to be Black in a white world.
Copyright MBrennanKerry
We overheard our parents talk about how hard life would be for them as a couple because of their 'differences'. One parent went so far as to say that she 'pitied their future children' for how hard their lives would be. My parents talked about their time in London and how hard it was to find a place to live with all the signs that said 'No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish'.
In university I made friends with a Ghanaain woman. She was a lovely, warm, open woman and a good friend to me. In the 1980's I went back to London, an economic migrant like my parents. In London I became more aware of being Irish than I had ever been. I learned that I had to be cautious about what I said and where I said it. I learned that there were places where I was welcome and places where I was not.
I worked in Social Services. And I worked hard. I learned what it means to be a member of an ethnic minority group. I had my first experience of being wheeled out to show how 'enlightened' my boss was. In another job, I became so frightened by peoples' atitudes and the pervasive use of the Prevention of Terrorism Act at the time, that I made arrangements for colleagues to enquire at the Police Station if I did not show up for work. (Under the PTA, Irish people were being picked up and held without charge for 72 hrs.)
One memorable night, my friends and I wandered into the wrong neighbourhood. A man pulled a flick knife on one of our group and told us to 'f##k off back to where you came from.' Thankfully no-one got hurt. We never thought to contact the police. I learned that sometimes it was safest not to open my mouth and speak because then no-one would know that I was Irish. A Black colleague of mine commented 'at least you have the choice to stay silent and hidden..we don't have that choice.'
This was a defining moment in my understanding of what it is to be Black in a white world.
Copyright MBrennanKerry
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