A journey from shame to activism

Growing up, my instinct as a black child was to belong. If I (a foreigner) was compliant, then perhaps they (the white community) would accept me. As such activism was an anathema. 

Being an outsider meant having no right to social or political dissension. I would have been ashamed to be called an activist, and I was embarrassed by those in my community who dared raise their voice for racial equity.  

Prejudice as a natural instinct

Like many children, I internalised racism. This happens because children categorise others based on distinguishable physical characteristics, like colour and gender. The tendency is natural, but quickly turns to racial or gender prejudice if left unchecked. Children as young as three associate race with traits like intelligence, honesty and attractiveness. 

As children adopt stereotypes, they start to use them to understand established social hierarchies in society. They then position themselves within them, according to their own physical characteristics – as someone who is black, white, female, male, black female, white female and so on. I wanted to belong to the in-group: white boys. Being a black boy put me in the out-group. 

Without early intervention, these social hierarchies become normalised and accepted as natural. Some people have less because they are less; some have more because they are ‘better than’ and so deserve more. Deprived of good quality conversations about our differences and sameness, children internalise prejudice and can unwittingly work against both their own and others’ interest. 

From there are sown the seeds that undermine our social fabric – now and in the future – and jeopardise our very survival.

How in-group bias plays out in social activism 

Racism is a distortion of human relationships, created by in-group bias and inequitable distribution of power. It poses an existential threat by creating competing priorities just when we need to work collectively. 

As an illustration, social activism on the political left, where people share liberal values of equity and inclusion, is never completely free of racial bias or inequality. It’s an issue I’ve highlighted in previous articles and podcasts.

It’s not incidental that an issue like climate change receives more investment, media coverage and political and public engagement than racial inequity. There’s been more progress on this in a decade than on racial equity in the last half century. It’s because the white middle class (from the left and right) prioritises climate change and has the power to drive this agenda forward at pace.
 
Those of us who agree that both a net-zero economy and racial equity are important will divide, broadly speaking, along racial and socio-economic lines when pushed on which we should prioritise. 

For example, many of the poorest – a disproportionate number of whom are black – would prefer to have their basic needs met before investing in upgrades on inefficient heating systems or polluting cars. This has been Rishi Sunak’s recent argument for delaying emission reduction targets.
 
We are less able to deal effectively with an existential threat like climate change if we are divided. So, we must treat the division itself as a primary threat. The more equitable a society and a world we become, the more robust we will be in dealing with crises that demand collective action. 

So black people’s voices are needed in the climate change debate. Our perspective adds something new to the argument, based on our own biases. Bias is not wrong; but a diversity of biases (or perspectives) creates greater equity which makes us stronger.

What does this mean for me as an activist?

Activism at its best seeks the sharing of different perspectives, new knowledge and a more equitable distribution of power. Any quashing of a person’s ability to be active is a burn to the individual and to society. In this sense good activism, even when it disrupts, is very much pro-social rather than anti-social. 

Coming back to my antipathy to activism as a child: I experienced discrimination living in a society where in-group bias, combined with unfair distribution of knowledge and power, distorted my thinking. The natural tendency for me to have a bias towards the black community was subverted. I preferred white people, so much so that I silenced myself to win approval and was ashamed of those in my community who did the natural thing – using their voices to ask for what was rightfully ours. 

Having found activism through writing, I use it to disrupt the status quo to create greater unity. Being an activist isn’t an act of separation from society, it’s a statement of belonging. The more I write the greater my sense of being part of – rather than separate from – society.

Activism has connected me to who I am, and to who we are. We are black, but we are the same. We are women, but we are the same. We have a disability, but we are the same. We are refugees, or economically-deprived or gay, but we are still the same. We demand equity as human beings, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. It is necessary for our very survival. 

Kevin Osborne is Founder at MeWe360 and Create Equity. 
@_KevinOsborne | @createequityuk | @mewe360
 kevin-osborne.com | createequityuk.com | mewe360.com

This article from social entrepreneur Kevin Osborne, founder of MeWe360 and Create Equity, is part of a series of articles that promote a more equitable and representative sector.