Confronting Anti-Black Racism in our Community
Written by Martin McIntosh, Director of Community Relations and Education, Regional HIV/AIDS Connection
Observations made throughout many North American cities have shown that the novel Coronavirus has disproportionately affected the poorest and most racially diverse communities; further, it has helped reveal the structural inequalities that underpin greater negative health outcomes for ACB (African, Caribbean, Black) and other racialized members of our communities. This saddening fact - coupled with the concurrent Black Lives Matter social equity uprisings - has caused me to take a hard stop in reflection, which has brought up feelings of grief, vulnerability, and frustration, along with an awakening of some hope.
My feelings of hurt and grief are rooted in revisiting all of the race-based inequalities and indignities that I was told to expect early on…and then grew to accept as I got older. Finding myself in a new country at age 8, and as the only black identified student in my public school, I quickly learned both the meaning and the intent behind the term “spear chucker” - along with many other racial slurs. Then came high school and the all-too-frequent unsolicited queries about my sporting capabilities and interest in participating in school musicals. I wonder, upon first meeting me, if any one of them saw my potential to attend Western and make the Dean’s honor roll - in the very years when Philip Rushton was seeding racial discord through his research, no less? Perhaps I should have foreseen being stopped and searched by two police officers as I transferred on the LTC Dundas and Adelaide, taking a shortcut through an alley on my way home from a late evening lecture? The only explanation I was offered to account for this was “You fit the description…”. While I have encountered individuals who have allowed for unbiased recognition of my merits, both personally and professionally, I simply cannot discount the many instances of active discrimination that I have also faced, which in turn fed both internalized negativity and vulnerabilities.
The power of numbers to bring the impacts of anti-Black racism into stark relief is clear – which is why the Middlesex London Health Unit Board’s recent declaration that “Anti-black racism is a public health crisis” and their commitment to collect race-linked data moving forward is vital. This action has been far too long in coming – the disproportionate health burdens borne by racialized communities as a result of systemic racism and its impacts is something that I have long seen to be true through the lenses of both my lived experience and a decade of work in the social services sector. I would further suggest that the crisis does not end with COVID and public health. Ultimately, that which is not counted is not only rendered invisible, it is also made a matter of insignificance through its omission.
So where does the hope come in? At the June 6th 10K strong Black Lives Matter protest held in Victoria Park, I had a sense of finally being on the threshold of desperately-needed courageous conversations that could ultimately lead to meaningful action and lasting change. The question now hangs - are we as Londoners finally ready to collectively commit to actively examine and address anti-black racism in all its forms?
I believe that the empowerment of Black communities requires intentional and supported investment, aimed at growing the capacity of Black-led and Black-focused organizations, as well as future leaders. I see emerging volunteer-led grassroots organizations - such as the Black London Network (uplift London's Black community through space, services, education, information and representation) and The Black Working Group (City of London employment-focused) - as pivotal to heralding much-needed change. Learning about and understanding one’s own racial fragility is a good thing. When I start to see concrete work being done to develop and implement policies and accountable best practices aimed at addressing systemic anti-black racism & oppression across the city, then and only then, will my hope begin to transform into both trust and faith in professed allies. This, coupled with ongoing efforts from within London's Black communities to connect and also support each other, feeds a personal dream (which is collective in nature), to one day see the creation of a Black Community Centre – a place where people who look like me can come together in support of wellness, socio-economic empowerment, and in celebration of the richness of our diverse cultural identities. In so doing, we will be empowered to help ensure that London becomes a model centre of equity and inclusion for diverse Black and other racialized communities.