Reflecting on bias, advantage and allyship this Black History Month

In comparison to a Black person, I am less likely to be stopped and searched by the police, my odds of surviving the first wave of the Covid-19 pandemic were twice as good. If I experience poor mental health, I am almost five times less likely to be detained under the Mental Health Act 1983. And as a white nurse I am also twice as likely to get promoted. The list goes on. It is easy for me to enjoy these advantages and not even see them as advantages as it is just normal life for me.

It’s convenient to believe that everything I have achieved has been accomplished through hard work and merit. I can speak about gruelling job application and assessment processes and late night arduous academic study. I have always accepted luck has played a part. However, I hadn’t consciously recognised that some of my ‘luck’ is being a white bloke and therefore being automatically afforded opportunities, advantages and resources denied to others.

I have implicit biases formed from living in a society that favours some groups over others. Only by recognising my biases can I have any hope of meaningfully addressing them. I grew up in a predominantly white community in Manchester and my contact with Black people was largely through what I saw on the TV. While not particularly conscious of what I was watching, on reflection there were two predominant images, Black people starving in Africa juxtaposed with images of gun carrying drug dealers in this country. So, did this mean I either needed to pity Black people in other continents and fear those living nearer? As I got older and my world expanded, the TV images which informed me were replaced by actual experience of people!

I have been passively ‘not racist’ for as long as I remember, it is consistent with my values of wanting fairness and justice. It hasn’t really taken any effort at all or conferred any benefit to anyone. A few years ago, I completed a brief course on antiracism and embarked on a new journey to become more active, a better ally and be able to describe myself as antiracist. The more I learn the less I realise I know, the more active I am the more mistakes I make. I think Nova Reid sums up the role of an ally perfectly:

‘It is a person who wants to learn how to recognise what everyday racism looks like, from pay inequity to social persecution, and address it. A person who learns to hold the tension between being asked to speak up while, at the same time, also being asked not to speak up on behalf of Black folk and people of colour and just listen. To hold the fear of saying the wrong thing, while having a strong desire to say and do something.’

My aim is to be a more decent and knowledgeable person and nurse. The actions I am taking are small, and I need to be more ambitious. But I needed to start somewhere. A couple of examples of how I am changing. I chair a few meetings and really struggle with pronouncing names unfamiliar to me so practice my pronunciation in advance, so I do not risk excluding people through fear of embarrassment. Ensuring inclusive imagery in my presentations without being tokenistic is another small step I am taking. The most important thing for me is to continue to learn and speak with people with experience.