This piece was submitted from a member of our enthusiastic community of readers. If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, check out our how-to post to learn more.

Hello, my name is Simone Bresi-Ando. I am a Black British Ghanaian woman and I just found out I’m suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. This was not diagnosed by a trained psychologist, but by Spike Lee, a ground breaking, American film director, producer, writer and actor. Please excuse the panic you may absorb as you read this piece, but it’s a shock, I take my mental health seriously and I pride myself on cultivating a Black British identity that is not consumed with whiteness. I’m sad and shocked I missed such a glaring problem I have.

Let’s go back to when I received this diagnosis: It was when She’s Gotta Have It season two dropped on Netflix. The lead character, Nola Darling, gave a toe-curlingly, embarrassing, inaccurate and offensive diatribe about the Black British invasion to America. It was hung on the notion that Black British actors are taking all Hollywood roles that African Americans could — and for some, "should" — play. The rant was wrapped up with a bow of wilful mispronunciation of Chiwetel Ejiofor and John Boyega’s names — a lovely mental trigger for people with non-European names who still have the scars of navigating daily microaggressions from teachers as they would do roll call. The irony was that instead of my racially insensitive teacher butchering my name, it was now someone who looked like me within a "Spike Lee Joint," which prides itself on challenging stereotypes and unfettered racism.

Nola’s rant is not a new conversation. I first became aware of the issue with Ava DuVernay’s Selma and the numerous questions thrown about the "blackosphere," asking why Black British actor David Oyelowo was chosen to play such an iconic African American figure such as Martin Luther King Jr. I guess I had rose tinted glasses stuck to my face since the '80s as a result of the years of being pressed up against the TV screen happy for representation of self, whoever played it, happiness was "just as long as they looked like me."

But it got me thinking about how true this "Black British invasion" was:

Mandela (1987) – A British made for TV movie which had Danny Glover as Mandela and Alfre Woodard as Winnie

Coming To America (1988) – N.B. so achingly good, I couldn’t imagine anyone else playing these roles, but if we’re divvying up suitability of actors based on nationality, this film has to be included!

Cool Runnings (1993) – A film about the Olympic Jamaican Bobsleigh team all played by African American actors (with very bad accents).

Mandela and De Klerk (1997) – Mandela was played by Sidney Poitier.

How Stella Got Her Groove Back (1998) – Grooving in the Caribbean without a Caribbean actor in sight and Taye Diggs giving us (very badly) a Jamaican accent

Hotel Rwanda (2004) – Paul Rusesabagina played by Don Cheadle

Concussion (2005) – Will Smith plays US based, Nigerian forensic pathologist, Dr Bennett Omalu (eye wateringly bad accent alert)

Last King of Scotland (2006) – A British production where Forest Whitaker plays Ugandan former president, Idi Amin

Goodbye Bafana (2007) – Mandela played by African American actor, Denis Haysbert

Invictus (2009) – Mandela played by (Black) God himself, Morgan Freeman

Endgame (2009) – Mandela played by African American actor Clark Peters

Winnie Mandela (2013) – with Mandela being played by Terrance Howard and Winnie by Jennifer Hudson

Do you see a pattern emerging here? No? OK, so let’s look at it from Nola Darling's perspective:

Get Out (2017) – Daniel Kaluuya plays Chris Washington, a fictional, African American photographer

Selma (2014) – David Oyelowo plays Martin Luther King Jr.

12 Years A Slave (2013) – Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Solomon Northup

Moonlight (2016) – Naomie Harris plays Chiron’s mum, Paula

These are not exhaustive lists. They’ve been created after some consumption of wine and my power of Google.

However, in all of this panic of realising my newly diagnosed mental health status, I am still finding time to be confused by Spike Lee’s current opinion on Black British talent, as his previous opinion was much more positive.

In 2013, Lee told the Guardian, “They’re well-trained. They came through on the stage not on a music video or whatever. So their acting’s impeccable and then they go into films.”

In addition, he even went so far to defend British director, Steve McQueen about his role in directing 12 Years A Slave by saying, "It's a trick to divide us, Black British people were slaves … Our ancestors were all taken from Africa."

Dare I even go so far to say that Lee was partly responsible for giving John Boyega a career in Hollywood? After all, he sought him out after watching him in British cult classic, Attack The Block and cast him in his undeveloped film called Da Brick in 2011, loosely based on Mike Tyson’s life.

Please forgive me if this piece appears like the ramblings of someone who is consumed with loving their oppressor. But the more I have this discussion in person or see this conversation online, I’m finding it very difficult to distinguish who has the heavier foot on Black Britain’s neck? The tactics seem the same as they ever were when scrambling for the ever elusive "power." It appears the age-old tactic of "let me punch the newest kid on the block's face" to assume some semblance of power in a rigged game where no one wins was pointed squarely at Black British transplants was just too enticing to pass up. In all of these conversations, I’ve mainly seen Black British people espouse how "divisive" this all is and how "Black is Black." If only life could be so Kumbaya. My answer to them is that living in divisive times, those divisions have informed our identity, ideas and barometers of success, more than we can often recognise.

It’s important that we see how deeply we are Black people are shrouded in colourism, fatphobia, homophobia, misogyny, racism, etc. on both sides of the Atlantic. We need to see that Black people either work to erase or conveniently turn a blind eye to these occurrences according to their own sensibilities and comfortability levels. I guess this "invasion" is one of those times, where privilege is only a one-way street without any historical context.

But I also want African Americans in this discussion to acknowledge that the privilege that has been bestowed to non-American Blacks living in America, is also given to African Americans who live abroad. I’ve got a list for that too, but I’m fast running out of wine and I don’t have a desire big enough to participate in any type of oppression Olympics. Particularly as there are no medals to be won — and that’s if you ever get to the end. (White supremacy be knowing!)

In light of all of my ramblings, I do believe that there is a valuable conversation to be had in regards to what happens when Black people move to another country and fit in (or not) to existing Black community and their frameworks. How guest populations can be mindful not to mimic the imperialistic tendencies of their oppressors and in the same breath, not start the conversation with a kick in the face with (trash) opinions being masqueraded as fact. Even if they were based off of one British actor’s (weird and ahistorical) comments on the Black British experience.

Displacement, is a real thing.

Valuing some types of Blackness/Black people over another, is a real thing.

Relocating to another country for better opportunities and to fortify a legacy is an age-old thing that people of all races participate in.

But if we’re going to have this (vital) conversation (not a slanging match), which will allow for us (all Black people throughout the diaspora) to define an identity that’s free from what whiteness left behind when it came to visit, we have to talk about this situation in an empirical, nuanced, geo-political, contextual and realistic way. Every time it occurs. Not just when your nationality does not benefit.

As I’ve reached the last drop of wine, I’m admiring how it has left the most beautiful shade of rouge against my glass. However, I’m still left anxious, wondering how I will handle this new diagnosis, but I’m quickly warmed by the memory of a 62-year-old Lee, jumping into the arms of (another anti-Black British ambassador) Samuel L. Jackson after (finally) winning an Academy Award from an institution that has ignored his ground-breaking work for nearly 40 years. It appears this syndrome plays out in different ways for different people, but that’s none of my business as I have no more wine to sip.

SimoneBA

Writing since May 2019 · 1 story contributed