The Dumb Curriculum

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” – Plato

Like most children, I approached my first day at school with some trepidation. I recall a pervasive feeling of dread which ran contrary to the feeling of excitement that every adult in my life suggested I should be feeling. I was unaware that being the sole black child in a seaside town in Kent had already made me acutely aware of my ‘difference’. Strangers commenting that I was a ‘cute, cuddly, little teddy bear and on a few occasions a ‘gorgeous golliwog’. Parents asking their kids to race me in playgrounds to see ‘if I was as fast as they’d heard’ although I’m pretty confident that they had no way of knowing who I was, let alone whether I was a gifted athlete. After all, I wasn’t famous. And I was five. I know, I know, but hey, it was a different time I’m told so try not to judge. Dehumanising black and brown people, even helpless children was certainly more the rule than the exception in mid 70s Britain. As I said, try not to judge. The masses most precious possession is their ignorance and they’re always ready to defend it.

Despite this early awareness I quickly realised that it was no preparation for school. That first walk in to my classroom through the playground, hundreds of questioning eyes all focused on me was…overwhelming. The entire day became a quiz, with me as the sole contestant, my only prize being the solace of temporarily silencing my inquisitor. ‘Are you from Africa? How do you know how to speak English? Do you use a knife and fork (that was the dinner lady at lunchtime)? Are you burnt?’ It’s fair to say that when I look back on my first day in school, I generously describe it as ‘a lot’. The rest of the week was easier, the novelty having worn off to some extent and the fact that 2 of my classmates, Stephen and Kara (love you guys, wherever you are), took it upon themselves to be my bodyguards. Then Friday came and my life changed forever because that was the day Christopher G…..m called me a nigger.

I’d never heard this word directed at me in my 5 brief years on the planet and only realised that it was meant as an insult from the reactions of some older children who had witnessed the disagreement we’d had about football that had led to our argument. The playground monitor who was one of the sisters in my Catholic School, Sister Margaret, was informed and she grabbed Christopher by the ear, dragging him off to the headmistress for a suitable punishment. Some of the older children asked if I was alright, which my 5-year old self took as a clear sign that something must be wrong so no, I wasn’t alright. I was confused and scared so I did the natural thing – I cried. My tears led to me being taken to my classroom for some milk and biscuits (the 70s weren’t all bad) and my Head of Year, Mr Cook, came to sit with me. I’d say comfort me but I’ll allow you to be the judge of that. Mr Cook asked me if I was alright and I said yes. He seemed pleased and told me the school ‘was very proud to have me there’. Not understanding him but recognising that the smile on his face was looking for a companion I smiled back. Clumsy rapport established and fuelled by a sugar rush that only a chocolate digestive could provide, I said, ‘Sir, what’s a nigger?’ Without any hesitancy he looked at me and answered.

‘A nigger’, he said in a sombre tone, ‘is a lazy black man’.

There was no hesitancy, no doubt. Upon reflection, I understand now that he was remarkably unaware of just how racist the comment was and due to my age, neither was I. I also realise today that he thought he was being sympathetic which is of course, incredibly perverse.

That was my introduction to the world of racist beliefs, philosophy and racist policies that were and still are, embedded within the structure of education in this country. These principles were expounded by the key agents within the education system - its teachers. I suspect some will accuse me of suggesting that all teachers are racists. If so, you’re an idiot. But the bias demonstrated by teachers throughout my childhood and in many cases, outright racism as exhibited by Mr Cook, was commonplace. But based on my personal evidence and that of generations of black and brown (British) people, the foundation stone supporting the white supremacist educational system is the curriculum.

Where to start? I could regale you with countless tales and anecdotes from my time in Kent but you get the general gist. I was tolerated as an exotic anomaly at best and an object of derision far too often by fellow students – and frequently teachers. I was blessed to read at an advanced level as a child and became the most advanced reader in St Augustine’s Primary School by the time I was 7-years old. But I was cursed with teachers who seemed to be insulted by the fact that I was ostensibly an affront to their misconceptions about black intelligence. As the Head of Year 5, Mrs Bannister said to me once when I collected a book from her without showing an unwarranted amount of gratitude (it wasn’t her book for fuck sake), ‘you may be a clever little monkey, but you’re a monkey nonetheless Henry’. It may seem shocking but it felt pretty normal to me after 3 years. The fact that I had nobody to discuss these challenges with left me culturally rudderless. Sorry, I neglected to mention that I lived with white foster parents in Kent, which increased my sense of isolation. I’d like to say this changed when I returned to the care of my birth parents in the great melting pot of London but alas, no. Not with the National Front in the ascendance and a succession of teachers overly keen to display ‘black credentials’ which they did by affecting Jamaican patois. Or more often, teachers resentful that they had been dumped in under-funded inner-city schools to teach a bunch of little sambos, Pakis and nig-nogs. Those are their words, not mine. They told us this. Not every day but enough for us to know they apparently couldn’t stand us. They could always rely on the curriculum to support them.

There were no black people of any real note in my curriculum and any that existed seemed to owe their achievements to the benevolence of white people. There was nothing black and brown people had to proud of. In fact, according to the history books we should have been grateful for the benevolence of colonisers. Brutal colonisers. No mention of Brahmagupta and Aryabhat, the ancient Indian mathematicians who created the basis for the Arabic system of numeracy we STILL use today. Thomas Edison invented the light bulb but the son of runaway slaves, Lewis Latimer, was the one who invented the longer lasting carbon light bulb filament. Before that they were made from bamboo and sometimes, paper. In 1753 Benjamin Banneker, a free Black American, created America’s first working clock - out of wood. The African born Roman, Septimius Severus, became emperor in 193 CE and moved to Britain in 208 CE spending the final years of his life strengthening Hadrian’s Wall. Ironic that – a black man keeping the Scots out of England. Anyway, the list of black and brown achievements throughout history are innumerable but I never learned any of this in school.

I was generously taught about the Windrush Generation who ostensibly were cheerfully accepted in to British society having helped to rebuild it. Well, at least until the Windrush Scandal revealed the duplicitous cruelty of the British Government. But then again, we’ve been here before, although I wouldn’t know that had I relied on my teachers. Winston Churchill is ‘rightly’ considered a hero that stood against fascism. But who knows that in 1943 a famine broke out in Bengal, caused – as the Nobel Prize-winning economist Amartya Sen has proved – by the imperial policies of the British. Up to 3 million people starved to death while British officials begged Churchill to direct food supplies to the region. He of course, refused. I say of course because you can’t expect more from a man that upon leaving school, zealously sped off to participate in “a lot of jolly wars against barbarous peoples”. He’s also the same man that ordered 150,000 Kenyans in to ‘detention camps’ (not as scary sounding as concentration camps) where prisoners were subjected to electric shock, cigarettes, fire, rape and mutilation amongst other delights. Churchill is a genuine hero to many. He is also a monster to some. Both these things can be equally true at the same time. And the examples of history in particular being rooted in white supremacist ideology and theory are myriad and all-encompassing.

If #BorisTheLiar and his Eton acolytes are serious about addressing racial inequity they’re doing a good job of pretending they don’t care. I know many people who like myself, are pretty convinced they don’t give a shit. Addressing the curriculum is fundamental and addresses one of the central demands of the escalating requests for racial justice. The few examples I’ve shared with you today are not even a fraction of an iota of all of the glorious history that we all share, warts and all. I loathe the notion of Black History month, not because I have disdain for participants or indeed, the focus on the black and brown diaspora. It’s because there is no such thing as black history. There’s just history, and although history is written by the victors, it is constantly reevaluated and presented anew for contemporary scrutiny. Examining history in particular, allowing children to be taught that slavery (in the Americas) was actually inflicted on white, indentured servants before Africans. Inform them of the myriad slave uprisings composed of enslaved blacks and whites that caused such terror in the landowners that ‘whiteness’ was created, a permanent quasi-class structure that elevated the poor whites to the role of overseer (today’s Police officer) and the seeds of modern racism were planted. It’s possible you disagree but our kids can’t even get to debate because our Government refuses to even review the English Curriculum.

You have to be remarkably foolish to consider wilful ignorance blissful but our leaders and far too many of us adopt this principle. The ability to ignore the consequences of race are the definition of (white) privilege and a broad, inclusive curriculum can ensure that the consequences are understood, particularly as the younger generation have a genuine commitment to equality. Perhaps it is the knowledge that a truly broad and culturally inclusive curriculum will hasten the demise of white supremacy. It is much harder to claim superiority when your evidence base for these claims can be refuted with evidence. And all the evidence indicates that the British Government are ambivalent at best when addressing racial inequality.

There are two ways to be fooled. The first is to believe what isn’t true. The second is to refuse to believe what is true. It’s time for the truth to be taught.