The need for separate education of black children

Understanding the nature of racism, and minimising its impact, has been my life’s work. Possibly this is why I have been less shocked than others about the murder of George Floyd. Having tracked the deaths of mainly black boys owing to gang violence in the UK over the last 15 years, I am more focused on the connection between the education system, criminality, and the death of young black men, both at the hands of the police and, more tragically, at the hands of their peers.

From the earliest age our education system can silently stifle the aspirations of black children and often discounts their most positive attributes, squashing authenticity in the process. We are unlikely ever to see a viral video of a teacher, who in the privacy of a classroom, mindlessly crushes a dream with invisible acts of ignorance, dishonour and humiliation. There is no prospect of disciplining the teacher. There will be no social media storms about miseducation perpetrated by some teachers and yet these acts have ripple effects on our community over many generations. Equal – and I’d say related– to the brutal violence perpetrated by our criminal justice system.

In a blog last year (August 2019) I describe how a teacher tried to thwart my aspirations at school and the effect it had on my self-esteem.

My English teacher humiliated me in front of the class on a weekly basis by making me read out loud (or more like stumble through) the Mayor of Casterbridge, Lark Rise and Romeo and Juliet – even though he knew I was dyslexic, or worse still, that I couldn’t read properly.
Despite the mixed messages and difficulties at school, I put everything into studying and eventually ended up with the equivalent of five GCSE’s, which on the face of it wasn’t that bad. But they were all grade ‘C’ and given how hard I’d worked I felt ashamed. These average grades confirmed what I already suspected, that as a black child I inherently lacked the intelligence to do better.

The miseducation was not only of me. Twenty-nine classmates witnessed my humiliation over two years. What implicit messages might they have taken away from this experience? Over their career a single teacher like mine will teach a thousand students. For the sake of argument, let’s say 12.5% of teachers hold racist views. This amounts to over 62,500 racist teachers in our primary and secondary schools today.** Sixty-two and a half thousand teachers who will shape the thinking of a new generation of political leaders, judges, lawyers, police, doctors, and teachers. They therefore shape the cultures within these institutions and wider society.

When my 12-year-old daughter read the August blog rushed out of the room and came back a minute later with a piece of homework she’d been given.*** The task was to fill out a table listing both the positives and negatives of colonialism. If you are struggling to understand why this is an issue, then consider the appropriateness of the same table being used to teach pre-teens about sexism, homophobia, or anti-Semitism.

These assaults on the integrity of black children are insidious. They are psychological blows which are felt in the soul, embedded in the mind and feed a sense of inferiority that can last more than a lifetime, as it trickles down to the next generation. I have seen the impacts of poor teaching play out (albeit with different outcomes) in those who have achieved career success (as I have) and those who have ended up in prison, as a friend did.****

The four officers involved in the George Floyd murder should be prosecuted, but we cannot leave it there. Ultimately, we cannot legislate our way out of racism. Dealing with immediate issues of justice is part of the process, but we will only defeat racism by also making the education system fit for purpose. To fight racism, we need to educate differently by changing the school curriculum for everyone, and by training our teachers properly about how racism manifests itself, even in the most politically correct of us. While we work for that change, we should create more educational opportunities designed by experts for BAME children outside of the mainstream system. We must give black children a level of defence against the institutionalised racism in our education system through a positive sense of identity; and prevent the miseducation of yet another generation.

*  Title based on ‘The Mis-Education of the Negro’, originally published in 1933 by Dr. Carter G. Woodson

**There are currently 506,400 full-time teachers in the UK. 216,500 work in primary schools, 208,300 work in secondary schools, 61,500 work in independent schools and 16,700 work in special schools.28 Oct 2019. Key UK education statistics – BESA 

***I wrote to the school who agreed not to teach the so-called positives of imperialism in future. To prevent this being taught in other schools I also wrote to my local MP who wrote to the Education Secretary. The response (from the Minister of State for School Standards) in a nutshell was that it is up to individual schools to decide how history is taught. See letter here.

**** I understand that the education system is not singularly responsible for negative outcomes faced by black people: the media, criminal justice system and health services also play a part. However, from an institutional perspective, I see the education system as being at the root and therefore the best starting point for systemic change.

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To some extent, teachers inevitably reflect the breadth of attitudes in society, including those on race. Twenty-five per cent of the general public admit to having racist attitudes. Whilst this will likely be less amongst teachers, it is certain that some will also hold such views. But how many? And what exposure do black children have to these teachers?

I can find no official statistics on this which is bizarre when you think about it. You would assume that the Department of Education or the Health and Safety Executive would want to know how many students have been exposed to racist or prejudiced teachers, but that data has never been collected and still is not.

So, I have modelled some scenarios – some ‘what-ifs’. What if teachers are half as likely as the general public to have racist views? 12.5% of teachers would have racist views. If that were the case, what would be the probability that an average student is exposed to a racist teacher at least once in their school life? Do the maths, and it is shocking. The probability is 99.99% and, on average, a black child (and indeed a white child) is likely to be taught by 10 racist teachers.* I was so surprised by these probabilities that I had them checked.** Interestingly, whatever percentage you use for teachers with racist attitudes, the risk to black children is remarkably high.
Teachers with racist attitudes Chance of a black child being taught by a racist teacher:

In most other circumstances we would find this level of exposure and risk to children completely unacceptable. Who of us would put our child into a school system where they were guaranteed to be caned, or exposed to a class A drug or sexually abused; and where this would happen regularly, turning their school experience into one of daily anxiety, dread or fear? We either don’t understand the impacts of racism on a child’s development or we don’t see these impacts as severe enough to put policies in place to prevent them.

Teachers have the power to inspire, but also to crush the aspirations of a child. We need to assess a teacher’s attitude to race before letting them into a classroom. We also need to track their performance when it comes to the treatment of black children, especially if related to disciplinary actions. Changing the syllabus won’t stop the disproportionate numbers of black children sent to special units; or being suspended or expelled from school. Acts of unconscious bias or overt racism in the classroom not only disrupt the education of black children but infects their minds. It often causes them to internalise the racism they experience and practise it on themselves, with devastating consequences to their self-esteem and life outcomes . It’s worth saying that white children bear witness to this treatment and potentially internalise views about black people which they carry back into society. In the end, we all lose.

I have had personal experience of classroom racism; so much so that I now believe that some separate education of black children is necessary. I say more on this and share one of my experiences at the hands of a racist teacher in my next blog.

(First published by Lankelly Chase on 25th June 2020)

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* It was assumed that 12.5% of teachers held racist views, that on average a student would by taught by 78 different teachers over their school life (primary and secondary school – 12 years). The probability of not being taught by a racist teacher would be 0.875^78*100=0.003%. So, the likelihood of being taught be a racist teacher is 100% -.003%=99.99%. The expected number of racist teachers is just 12.5% of 78, which is 9.75 so you would expect a randomly chosen pupil to have been taught by approx. 10 racist teachers.  

**I had the calculations done by a maths student at Cambridge University and independently done and verified by another maths student at Birmingham University. 

*** ‘The Mis-Education of the Negro’, originally published in 1933 by Dr. Carter G. Wood

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It’s now clear that BAME communities are disproportionately dying from Covid-19. It’s a fact that’s disturbing to me and unacceptable to most of us. 

No one knows exactly why.  We do know that health co-morbidities (pre-existing conditions) play a big part and that those conditions are more prevalent in BAME communities.  But what drives this prevalence?  We also think that social factors such as poverty and discrimination  (what I’d call ‘societal co-morbidities’) have an impact both directly (in the sense that Covid-19 is more dangerous if these conditions are present) and indirectly in being a partial cause of health co-morbidities.

In short, increased illness and death within BAME communities are driven (at least in part) by the ills of our society… our societal co-morbidity. Whatever the cause, the high death rate feels intolerable.  

This raises the question as to what can be done.  There are two important implications.  

The first is that special measures need to be put in place to protect BAME communities immediately.  The virus disproportionately affects older people and we implement special measures for them.  Alcohol and soft cheese create unique risks for pregnant women and we implement special measures for them.  We know as a fact that BAME communities are disproportionately affected by Covid-19 and we need to implement special measures; the same as for other communities that have higher vulnerability.  Those who make policy decisions and allocate resources are calling for more data before acting.  Asking for more data is justified.  But waiting is not. The three studies completed so far have all reached different conclusions, so no one is expecting a quick result. We wouldn’t dream of telling the elderly that we would do nothing for them until we have data. We have implemented measures immediately.  It should be the same for BAME communities. To coin a slogan, ‘BAME lives matter’.

The second implication is the spotlight that the BAME experience shines on societal co-morbidities.  BAME people face unique issues in terms of discrimination but they also share issues of poverty and marginalisation with many other communities.  Covid-19 within the BAME community provides a unique social benchmark ( a controlled experiment ) to test the impact of these other factors which we know are significant. Even before Covid the gap in life expectancy between the richest and poorest was already 10 years in the UK.

The big difference that Corona has made is a perspective of how acceptable this is.  We are willing to put the entire country in lockdown to protect those communities vulnerable to Covid-19.  The price is a heavy one; the largest recession for 100 years and hundreds of billions of economic loss.  But as a civilized society we think that it’s the right thing to do.  This being the case, then, when Covid-19 is over, should we go back to tolerating a 10 year gap in life expectancy between one community and another? 

With this in mind, I’m now more persuaded by those now asking for the introduction of universal income as a way to reduce poverty, reduce ‘societal comorbidities’, provide greater equality of opportunity, and making us more resilient when it comes to  future emergencies. 

It was inconceivable in the 1800s that you could deliver a welfare state and free healthcare for all.  It was considered simply too expensive.  But we found a way.  Who would want to go back to the world of the 1920s, let alone the 1800s?  If universal welfare and universal healthcare were two great contributions in the 40s and the 50s when we wanted to build a world fit for our children after WW2, then I would like to suggest that the defining contribution in the 21st century is universal income. 

It’s an idea whose time has come.

“I am now convinced that the simplest approach will prove to be the most effective — the solution to poverty is to abolish it directly by a now widely discussed measure: the guaranteed income.” (Martin Luther King, 1967)

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The Matt Forde’s interview with Arthur Snell for the podcast ‘The Political Party’ is worth a listen. Matt’s interview with the former diplomat touches on Britain’s imperial past and the causes of terrorism amongst other things.

Matt: Britain’s imperial past is something that is probably under the spot light more now as a result of BREXIT and people starting to analyse our role in history, how we see ourselves in the world, how the rest of the world sees us, what are we responsible for, what should we feel guilty for, are there any things we should be proud of. To start on a more positive note, having worked in places like Zimbabwe and places like Trinidad and Tobago is there a legacy of the empire that is at all positive?

Arthur: I think it would be kind of foolish to say there isn’t. He goes on to cite the legal system and the English language as examples of positive legacies left in the Caribbean.

The two men go on to have an interesting conversation about the negative legacy of imperialism and slavery. But why did they need to mention the so called ‘positives’ at all. Conversations in the media on Britain’s imperial history often touch on its benefits, like railways in India. I’m curious about why this is, what it brings to the conversation and who it is aimed at.

I’ve never heard it said that there is any positive legacy from the subjugation of women or gay people or Jewish people. So I’m curious as to why this is raised when talking about the historical abuse of people of colour through colonialism?

It seems insensitive – not least because it links to the idea of the ‘civilising’ nature of the process which was part of the original justification for imperialism. So, by mentioning it I – as a black listener – infer at least some lessening of (at the least) or justification for (at worst) slavery and imperialism.

If Martians break into your house, decide to squat, let you live in the basement whilst renovating the rest of the house using your free labour, so they can rent out rooms to their alien friends (making trillions in the process), and for good measure physically abuse your family – under what circumstances would you see any positive legacy. Even if they did fit intergalactic WiFi, teach you to speak Martian, converted the loft and installed a conservatory.

This isn’t an attack on the podcast which I enjoyed. It’s a gentle call for all forms of historical oppression to be treated with equal consideration by the media. And for the media to treat its listeners with more credit than needing this kind of counter-balance when talking about Britain’s imperial past. Can you equate systems, infrastructure and language with human dignity?

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