A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Tag: #racism

coconut

At school,
I was bullied.
Bullied by the people that looked like me,
But didn’t act like me,
It was not my intention to be different,
Not an act,
Just a fact,
I think it is important to be yourself,
Not just follow like sheep,
Nor act like playing a part,
But to be an individual.
I’ve always been quite colour-blind really,
Favoured people for their behaviour,
Their humour,
Personality,
And interior,
Our connection,
Genuine sparks fly,
Because of chemistry,
A connection of souls,
What people look like meant nothing,
Means nothing to me,
Why should it?
How shallow!
Materialistic!
I like genuine bonds with genuine people,
That is natural to me,
But with lashings of ignorance,
A splash of resentment,
Dollops of hormones,
A lack of processing,
And sprinkles of judgement off my peers,
I was custard pied,
Rated as poorly baked,
Not adhere to certain standards,
Cast aside,
Ridiculed,
Criticized,
And patronised,
Left on the harsh receiving end of bullying.
The girls that looked like me,
The Black girls,
My sisters,
The girls that had the reputation of being tough,
With their,
“Don’t Fuck With Me” attitudes,
In this huge all girls school,
They did not take to me,
They fucked with me,
But fortunately only verbally,
Which was lucky,
As keeping up appearances,
With anyone that stood in their way,
They would fight,
And they would scrap.
They commanded respect,
By sticking togethering,
Dominating threat,
And casting fear to all that were not in their favour,
A purposeful segregation,
Forced entitlement cast by fear,
So powerful that no one would dare dispute,
They would silently force their way to the front of the dinner line que,
Come from nowhere and get on the bus before you,
And no one would complain,
We didn’t dare to.
Picking on me,
Perhaps because the majority of my friends were white,
Thinking that was odd and not right,
But is was just per chance,
Not a purposeful decision for me,
I just took preference of personality,
Open to friendship with anybody.
They would call me Coconut,
It upset me.
They called me a Bounty,
It upset me,
Meaning I was fake,
Black on the outside,
But white on the inside,
Stripping me of my identity.
At a young age it really confused me,
I was just doing me,
But that was apparently not good enough!
Insincere,
Was something I did not want to be,
Nor did I try to be,
I was,
I am proud of my heritage,
But living in the modern day,
Why create segregation,
Ostracise me,
Try to embarrass me,
It was ignorance that I ran from,
The mentality,
Not ones nationality.
Now I am thirty-four,
I clearly remember it all,
But now being older,
Looking back,
Upon reflection,
If that is the only insult that they could cast against me,
Really and truly,
They had no insult at all!
Think about the fruit,
Coconut,
It’s nutritious,
And delicious,
So,
You want to be narrow minded,
Call me a coconut,
I’ll take it,
There are much worse and harsher words,
More personal,
Less generic words that you could have used to bully me,
But the truth is,
They couldn’t find any,
Because I wasn’t at fault,
They were,
And they were clutching at straws!
Their insecurities!
Their uncertainties!
Their jealousies!
Projecting irrelevance,
And their labelling,
And their declarations upon me,
It was all about them,
Weak people find themselves by putting others down,
And they never look back,
Seemingly nonchalant,
Because they cannot face their own wrong doing,
They move on,
Leaving victims with irremovable scars,
Tainted memories,
And incurable insecurities.
If someone today called me a bounty,
A coconut,
Or in these days an Oreo,
I would just take it on the chin,
And own it,
Because to me,
They are all nice things,
Just like I am a nice person,
Sweet,
And most likely good enough to eat,
I shall ignore your ignorance,
And deny you defeat.
My advice to them would be,
Don’t worry yourself about me,
You do you,
And I’ll do me.
I shall not fester in others negativity.
So come on and do your worst.
I am Black,
I am dark skinned,
I am proud of my heritage and history,
I am free,
And will befriend anyone who shares a genuine connection.
Within me,
Regardless of ethnicity,
Because I only associate with purity,
Honesty,
Sincerity,
Kindness,
love.
Love comes with any and every colour,
None more better than another,
Let spite,
Judgement,
And hate evaporate,
Instead,
Let us see beauty within the rainbows of this world,
And celebrate in unity.

Nanny’s Nursey Rhyme

My Nanny Sarah is a character and a half. Perhaps one day I shall write her story and share her range of tales from bitter to sweet and all that is in between, as my Grandmother has had a very eventful life. Now eighty-eight years of age, with the beginnings of dementia, often happily she repeats the following Nursery Rhyme. A rhyme that represents promise, hope and excitement. Now a days with global warming and the threat of Brexit, the wrongful shenanigans re. The Windrush era and threat of British entitlement being removed from those that gave up everything, their homes, loved ones, history, brainwashed and promised that England and their Queen across the sea’s would welcome my ancestors with open and welcoming arms, permitting them to walk the streets pathed with gold, bathed in equality, flourishing with employment, good wages, better opportunity, happiness and freedom. Groomed from a young age, with nursery rhymes such as these, how shocked they must have been at the cruel, ignorant, brutality that they were showered with once stepping off the great ships on voyage to glory, but strength and perseverance, resistance and determination carried them through the horrors first endured, “No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish”! Now myself being 2nd generation British, be it swept under the carpet, I must not forget, we must not forget, the fight that was had and sadly in many ways still is, for the entitlement in which I am in receipt of today, I am a Black British Woman with Caribbean heritage, we have come a long way, but we still have a long way to go.

“When I leave school,
I means to go away,
To see how other people work and play,
I need to take a trip across the sea,
Of cause I mean the ship must take me,
And then I’ll go to England,
France,
Germany,
And Spain,
And even then,
I won’t come home again!”

Was that rhyme so embed into my Nanny’s head, that some years later she indeed took a ship to England? She did go home again, but only to holiday. I am one of the fortunate grandchildren that got to go back to Montserrat with my Nan, but England for better or worse became her home and Birmingham City, the place of birth to my Mother, her siblings, many of my cousins and I. I wonder what my life would have been like if she stayed overseas!? Now in reverse, the Caribbean is the destination across the sea and has a place in Nan’s heart, full of memory and she most likely will never go home again. Although she has actually spent the majority of her life in England and so Great Britain is her home, now the only one dreaming about across the sea, is me, I don’t know to much about the living lifestyle in the Caribbean today, but I do know that Great Britain disappointingly isn’t so Great!

Colour

The, “N” words,
Nigger or Negro,
Shot, Shot!
The, “B” word,
Black,
Shot!
The, “C” word,
Coloured,
Shot!
Words are just words,
Yet the intension of how they are said,
Delivered with clarity,
Doused with…
Venom,
And…
Spite,
They are as powerful as a bullet to the head!
Shot, shot, shot shot!
Is this what you see when you look at me?
What you think I am?
How you describe me?
Yes,
I am black and proud,
If asked to describe me physically,
Is colour the first thing that springs to mind?
Surely you understand that such language and choice of words like those above,
That is derogative and uncalled for!?
You can pretty them up,
In songs or rap,
Say them about me behind my back,
Hurl them at me in a racist attack,
But such strategies are wack,
You have to understand that I am black,
And I am proud of that,
Because the colour of my skin is part of me,
I was born with it,
It is part of my identity,
But not everything about me.
Prejudice and racism has not ceased it is still very much here,
Not just a part of our past or old tainted wives tales that you may hear,
But if you open your eyes and mind,
You will soon discover that the colour of my skin should not trigger fear.
Despite the colour of our exterior,
Our skin,
We are all just human beings.
I look in the mirror and just see me,
Not my colour,
I look deeper then that,
Trying to find the overall beauty,
Outside and in,
Strip off our skin,
We are all the same within,
So why fight one another?
There is so much cruelty, trauma, hate and sin in this world,
I want no part of it.
I don’t want revenge for those tortured, mistreated and killed because they look like me,
But I do want mercy and reconciliation,
Or it was all for nothing
I acknowledge the past,
And I will always remember those that suffered for equality,
I recognise that the scale of injustice and mistreatment has decreased dramatically,
But I shudder and weep when I study black history,
Rage when I think of all of the lives lost to death and slavery,
Just because of biology and anatomy!
I want to hold my head up high,
In silent protest,
And make the most of this life given to me.
I am privileged,
Lucky to have been born in a more equal part of the world,
Lucky to have been born at this time,
But that luck does not help starving babies in third world countries,
Black children getting less education,
Black teenagers peer pressured into gangs,
Black men being put into prison for just being black,
Black women being raped for just being black,
Just because the devil only see’s their colour,
Forgets that their lives matter,
People even up to now,
They don’t acknowledge that black lives matter.
For those of us with sight,
We are fortunate to see colour,
What a beautiful gift,
Only to be spoiled by the need of power,
Tainted,
And bruised,
Wasted due to inferiority.
Freedom,
That was rightfully ours,
And when I say ours,
I mean all of ours,
But was taken away,
Oblige or die,
Commands and decisions made by self appointed radicalists,
Every knock,
Every bump,
Every push,
Every whip,
My ancestors got back up
And they fought,
And they earned their freedom,
Tested again and again!
I would not be here if it were not for them!
I thank them,
And carry our torch with pride.
When I look at you,
I don’t see colour,
When I look at myself,
I just see me.
I hope that one day,
It can be like that for everybody.
If you pass me on the street and you think my life does not matter because of the colour of my skin?
Do yourself a favour,
Keep your thoughts within,
Button up those lips,
Clench your fists,
And just keep walking,
Because this world is not yours alone,
And my life is not yours to take,
Black lives matter,
Whether you agree or not,
Keep those racist and hurtful thoughts to yourself,
They are your thoughts of harm and pain,
Your problem to contend with,
This planet is for all of us to share!
Join us all,
Or quietly go elsewhere.
This is not a dictatorship?
But a vision to rule out segregation,
An invitation for all of us to be united as one in civilisation,
To include,
Not excluse,
Because of what you look like,
Or where you come from!
Man or Woman,
Black or White,
Gay or Straight,
Christian or Muslim,
Anything goes,
As long as you have a good soul,
Practice in acceptance,
Then there should be no grievance.

Health is health and often shall mental and physical cross paths, if you go into nursing as a career, perhaps remember that!

When did I become such a danger to society?
Four people they sent for me!
It was extremely intimidating,
Slightly humiliating,
Most certainly overwhelming.
As people carted me off,
From a general hospital to a mental health hospital,
I could hear their thoughts,
“Hip Hip Hooray”,
“The mad lady is on her way!”
The stigma alongside mental health,
Rings loud and clear in The Q.E,
Queen Elizabeth Hospital,
Birmingham.
I encounted some terrible behaviour this stay,
Stuck on The CDU Ward.
Not easily offended,
Yet I received some,
Offence that is,
Off fellow patients,
Family and friends,
Staff!
Subjected to racism,
Sharing a bay with supporters of none other than,
Donald Trump.
Words exchanged were outspoken and brash,
They spoke absolute trash,
Not even quietly,
But loud and proud,
As if to offend me!
“I only want a white doctor!”
“Well I don’t like the black nurses!”
If they are so high and mighty,
Open your purse,
Leave quietly,
And seriously do one!
Get care privately!
Perhaps then they wouldn’t have to deal with,
“People like me”.
The NHS is supposed to represent,
GREAT BRITAIN.
As citizens we must appreciate it’s assets,
And embrace the unity of every nationality,
Because that is supposed to be what puts the,
GREAT,
In Britain.
Not only racism,
But prejudice too.
Patients making remarks about funny farms,
Categorising others as mental,
Like mental is a dirty word!
Staff complaining about being pushed out of their job description,
“FUCKING MENTAL HEALTH PATIENTS,
THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE GENERAL!”
Well welcome to the real world,
Idiots!
Mental Health and Physical Health are few and far between.
What happened to compassion?
Empathy?
People can really be so mean.
Some staff were Angels,
Don’t get me wrong.
I thank them for saving me,
Helping me,
And looking after me.
Sincerely.
The likes of Cat,
Chelsea and more,
But the good ones,
Like I said,
Were few and far between,
And the majority,
Unnnecessarily mean.

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