For me, it’s not just about a single month of celebration, but a daily commitment to acknowledging our history and culture in everything we do—from the food we share, like my mum’s famous curry chicken and roti, pepper pot, souse, and black pudding, to the music we create: calypso, jazz blues, souls reggae… Oh my, the list goes on.
Black history should be woven into our academic communities and daily lives. We must challenge the negative stereotypes and narratives so often perpetuated by the media. This means re-evaluating our place in history and even in religious stories, where our presence has often been erased or distorted. By doing this, we can give younger generations a sense of belonging and pride, replacing the negative influences of things like gang culture with a strong sense of community and shared values.
As a proud mother of a blended family, with children who are Black, white, and mixed-race, I feel incredibly honoured and blessed. My family is a living example of how different backgrounds can come together to create something beautiful and strong. This is a testament to the power of love and understanding, and it’s a source of immense pride for me.
For a long time, I chased a traditional vision of professional success. I suppose this was to fit in with a very traditional world. I worked incredibly hard to get to the top of my career, but this achievement didn’t bring me the pride I expected. Instead, the years of hard work came at a cost: my self-worth was depleted, and I felt disconnected from my true purpose.
My goal had always been to fight for justice for women experiencing domestic abuse and to ensure that Black women and other members of the global community have better access to support by understanding the intersectionality of their experiences.
This professional heartbreak, including facing racism and a lack of understanding about my culture, led me back to my core mission. I decided to return to hands-on work as a domestic abuse practitioner—a role I absolutely love. It was here that I regained my pride and strength.
Because of Miss Mary’s teachings of helping me learn to positively reflect upon situations and finding a new way, I am now using my experiences to make a difference from within. I’ve joined groups like our Advance DEI champions group to review and help shape policies. Written words aren’t enough; policies must be crafted to truly support employees who look like me. These policies should combat prejudice, promote our values, and provide genuine support when individuals are challenged. They should instil a sense of pride in us as practitioners, women, and women of colour.
My power comes from standing with other humans who love and respect me. One of my favourite poets, Lisa-Marie said it best in her poem: “Peace is your power; measure your presence by your peace. You will feel it in your nervous system before you process it.”
This quote resonates deeply with me. My blackness, my history, and the vibrant energy it all brings are what encourage and support me. They are the source of my pride, helping me stand firmly in my power.
This month, and every day, I stand in my power—a power rooted in my heritage, my family, and my unwavering commitment to creating a more just and equitable world for us all. Simply put, this gives me pride.
