So I’m black. No shit. Both my parents are from the Caribbean however my brother and I were born and bred in a small town in Buckinghamshire England where we both attended a very white middle class school. Our friends lived in the country, owned horses and their parents allowed them to drink alcohol at 14 as long as it was under their roof! And by their roof I mean a huge MTV crib style house with hot tubs and hookers in the sauna! The hookers were a lie. My brother and I owned goldfish, lived on a council estate and got told off for drinking too much fizzy pop before dinner. 99% of my friends now are white and that 1% is my brother and the old dude who would nod and say hello to me every time I walked through the town. My upbringing maybe on the ‘white side’ (a nonsensical term I just made up!) but there’s no getting away from the characteristics attributed to my skin colour, afro hair and overly dramatic hand gestures.
Here are 10 ‘things’ that prove this as played in the style of the "I have never" drinking game! Why... because drinking is fun.
I have never sworn at a teacher behind his back just as another teacher walked past the door and caught me... to then go on to say “is it because I am black?!” just to avoid being suspended. (I panicked. Soz!)
I have never watched the very brilliant but brutal “12 Years A Slave” and fully expected every non ethnic minority person in the cinema to form an orderly queue and apologise to me.
I have never been noted in the past to wear a ‘Black is Beautiful’ and ‘Positive Black Woman’ slogan t-shirts.
I have never purposely spoken and cursed out loud… with a West Indian accent... just to stress how black and angry I really am.
I have never rejected turkey for Christmas dinner and demanded rice, peas and jerk chicken as a substitute.
I have never sung Bob Marley at a karaoke night.
I have never overwhelmed an old white lady on a bus in Australia, simply by sitting in silence and being too black and fabulous for her liking. I also have never complied out of embarrassment to said old white lady's wishes when she asked me to move... and then cried like a schmuck!
My parents have never given me a ridiculous name nobody can spell. A name people are too scared to say out loud for fear of being called a racist if they get it wrong!
I have never stuck an afro comb in my hair, walked around in public and shouted “AND WHAT?!”
I have never become intoxicated and had full on animated debates with my best mate about who struggled the hardest… the Irish or my black brothers and sisters STOLEN from Africa! We have never settled this argument by simply blaming the British.