The Brixton Housewife

Things people assume about me that aren’t true #Bloganuary Challenge

Saw this writing challenge and loved the self indulgence! I’m sure there’s a profound moral message to be raised but this post is not it. I’m keeping it vain and shallow because – well catharsis rocks x

So probably the biggest misconception about me is that I’m an extravert..

But despite the carnival feathers and my joy of doing the “Ricky Gervase Robot” on the dance floor- I’m actually really shy!

I love carnival for the music and sense of freedom and community it evokes. It is never about one person- it’s a celebration of people- a huge party where everyone is invited. When I used to perform on stage with a Samba carnival school, it felt very different. The spotlight literally being on me was an introvert’s nightmare.. my stage dance career did not last very long 😉 but my love of carnival is lifelong.

My hair is probably the next biggest misconception. Generally, people assume that the wigs or weaves I wear are my real hair and when I have my hair in an Afro it’s a wig. I suppose it’s one of the joys of being “ethnically ambiguous” in a society with Westernised beauty standards. I should probably discuss here the endless conversations I have about my “race” or heritage but – nah not today.

I’ve only heard this a couple of times, but being very political and opinionated there’s an assumption ,by some, that I am a serious person with “the weight of the world on my shoulders”. People who have met me for five minutes know that’s not the case. Joy, as they say, is a revolutionary act.

Strangest idea I sometimes hear is the assumption that I’m a good singer…

Even laughing at that as I type! I mean I love singing, but I’ll be first to acknowledge that not one note is in key- as a singer I make a good butcher 😂

Anyway this is probably the most shallow post I’ve written in a fair while and I enjoyed every. single. word. I definitely didn’t expect that! Lol BHW xx

Death of A Girl Boss

We may be through the first week of the new year – but I am still going through old draft posts. Considering Molly Mae’s recent deluded ramblings – one in particularly caught my eye. It was written in 2016 and discussed the pressure to (or at least appear) “have it all”. It was written during the rise of the “Girl Boss“. A deliciously deceptive right wing construct which targeted women via social media. The charge was led by young, female “influencers” regurgitating Thatcherisms as “inspirational quotes” to accompany aspirational snap shots of their jet set lives. And they were rewarded well – with engagement figures in the millions and the lucrative sponsorship deals. Classic neoliberalism for the modern ~~woman~~a. ~~I mean girl~~. I mean girl- woman? Female empowerment at it’s finest.

https://www.indy100.com/viral/molly-mae-hague-parody-munya-chawawa-b1989478

And just like the tenacity of each new strand of Covid, the influence of the Girl Boss insidiously infiltrated my life and friendship circle over the following years. For some – empathy and understanding were replaced with judgement and condescension.

http://theguardian.com/books/2016/apr/15/neoliberalism-ideology-problem-george-monbiot

A testing time to say the least, but with the great pain and loss this pandemic has brought – it also brought the opportunity to pause for thought. Across the locked down Nation, the clogs and cranks of critical thinking slogged into gear as many in society questioned the identity, value and treatment of “Key Workers”. Remote working challenged the concept of work/life balance and the value of time. Questions were asked of neo-liberal maxims: Productivity is a merit of worth – Worth to who? And an increase in the popularity of more socialist ideas: People over profit.

Without that discourse, perhaps Molly Mae’s comments may have gone unquestioned or even lauded so just as Willie Loman’s pride and delusion led to his ending, may #mollymae’s recent comments be the genesis of the crack that brings the glass House of “Girl Boss” tumbling down.

Radical Dreaming

This season’s holidays provided the much needed down time to go through my writing note books, incomplete posts and projects. Amongst the sprawls and scribbles I found the half written poem “Radical Dreaming”. After watching Don’t Look Up and with New Years Eve rapidly approaching, I decided to rework the poem into a post as an intention for the new year rather than traditional New Year resolutions.

So what’s your radical dream for 2022? here’s mine!

Radical Dreaming

Capitalism is a corruption of love.

In our desire to own and possess ourselves through our possessions we have neglected and exploited the natural resources which quite literally provide us with heaven on Earth. We have over consumed our path towards planet destruction like the Ouroboros devouring it’s own tail. But just as the mythical beast can symbolise death and rebirth, creation and destruction this moment is an opportunity to reimagine and birth a new society.

If capitalism is a corruption of love then a reformation of love can save us.

And as ‘Courage’ originates from the Latin “cor” for heart, it is time to be courageous. We need to act from the heart because we must act outside of our own comforts, interests and egos to work collectively to tackle climate change. We must risk our freedoms by defending the right to protest.

We need to be brave. Brave enough to put down distractions-whether they be digital, consumerism or the bottom of the “locally brewed” bottle. It’s time to be accountable and refuse to support the system which is depleting and deleting our planet. It’s time to reclaim our seat at the table or starve to death as our planet dies. It is going to be uncomfortable. But with community we will get through it. If we acknowledge the seriousness of the problem but dream outside of the current antiquated structures, we can build governance systems founded on empathy and equality not elite capital gain. We are so used to acquisitive ideals that alternative models sound like fairy tales or distant dreams but in reality many are living in a daily nightmare.

I know that individuals can’t recycle their way out of climate change – it takes structural changes by governments and corporations – I can question the motivations of my actions and purchases. Thus making changes that may be uncomfortable at first, but in the long term lead to a more fulfilled way of life. Ultimately joining with others to work towards those common goals that respect and empower the wider society and our planet.

My intentions for 2022

Reduce online time.

https://erjjiostudios.com/environment/the-internets-environmental-impact-how-you-can-help/

Stop buying new clothes (and photo frames…cushions… etc)

https://www.greenpeace.org.uk/news/the-uks-fast-fashion-habit-is-getting-worse-and-its-destroying-the-planet/

https://www.freecycle.org/

https://www.traid.org.uk/

Reduce food waste and learn how to grow and preserve food

https://www.gov.uk/apply-allotment

https://toogoodtogo.co.uk/en-gb

https://www.yourlocalpantry.co.uk/

Join a local group/ community.

https://www.sistersuncut.org/ https://www.greenpeace.org.uk/ https://theleap.org/our-work/ http://www.wftucentral.org/ https://extinctionrebellion.uk/ https://www.theclimatecoalition.org/show-the-love

Show The Love – Activity Pack

stlcommunityactionpack-digital Download

Always choose LOVE

Rest In External Power – Bell Hooks

Anti-Racist School Setting Action Plan

I have been very quiet recently, partly due to co-authoring this.

This document is a collaboration by teachers, parent activists and community workers to provide a strategy and resources to support schools with their transition to an Anti-Racist school setting.

“Education is the strongest weapon we have to change the world.”

Nelson Mandela

Please share widely and meet with school leaders! Let’s be change we wish to see! X

https://drive.google.com/file/d/17C1gTtvvA6O38_gkHztDgCQapQ2Ao54A/view?usp=drivesdk

Accessible version available on request by emailing: supperclubsisterhood@gmail.com

For updated versions or further information please contact:

@brixtonhousewife

@rarasisboomba

@mami_health

#MEGXIT A Very British Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a tiny island surrounded by blue.

The Kingdom was a proud Kingdom- ruled by a Queen.

The inhabitants dwelled in a golden time of yesteryear and never was.

The Nation prided itself on a heroic past where the Sun never set. Their identify easily identified by their desired homogeneity.

For the love of their Kingdom they loved their Queen. And although her name and blood descended from foreign lands, her skin was as pale as the powder puff clouds that often covered the sky of the little island. So the privilege of belonging to the Great Nation was bestowed upon her crown.

Many years passed and the beloved Queen married her third cousin from lands a far.

She bore four doting children of mixed blood but all graced with skin as translucent as the drops of rain that fell from the grey sky.

Three Princes the Queen did birth.

Princes full of love.

Oh how the Second Prince loved young girls! How he would spend hours on end in the company of damsels- oblivious to their distress. Feasting on golden platters of Sloppy Giuseppes without even breaking a sweat! He was beloved by his Queen and his country. The trumpets declared: a jester he may be at times but his heart was as pure as his delicate but slightly clammy skin.

Oh and the King to be!

So full of love that whispers often caressed the breeze with tales of how the eldest Prince did love the household staff.

So stoicicly loyal to his Sweetheart that he remained faithful even when faced with the misfortune of being married to Another.

Another, guilty of being the Prince’s choice of Queen Not, received a royal pardon by way of two dashing sons to capture the heart of the nation.

Once again the Queen smiled upon the continuation of her House. Two Grand sons both of pale nature-only hair colour to tell them apart.

But all was not well in the Kingdom! The young Princes’ mother would not socialise within the guilded box her royal status bequeathed. No longer silenced by her crown, she danced on Dark Sands in Tarnished Lands.

The Kingdom was in uproar!

A blood thirsty pack was set upon her. In a dark tunnel in a land across the sea she perished- living her little Princes adorned in black.

Time passed and the people forgot. The young Princes grew strong and handsome. They too found love.

The Prince Who Would Be King, set about the duty of presenting to the Kingdom a future queen to make the Nation proud.

A fairy tale. The Prince who married a pauper (by millionaire standards) The future Queen- a Snow White of their very own. The people cheered. She was beautiful! They were proud!

Alas, the younger Prince followed not in his brother’s foot steps. He danced on the same dark sands as his mother had. In a foreign land he met his own Queen of Hearts.

The bugles sounded! The people had been betrayed! It was incredulous that their handsome Prince would choose her over the fairest in all the land.

How dare their prince soil their nation with a tarnished love. It was as simple as black and white. The Prince’s Queen could never truly belong!

The angry pack despised the Young Prince’s Queen just as they had despised his mother. She could no right.

And so she was hounded, even as her unborn child sought refuge behind her navel, she was hounded.

Day after night, night after day, on digital platforms and front covers spread, the couple were harrassed.

The Queen continued to rule the waves but remained silent.

Then on a grey, overcast day, the young couple planned an escape!

They would surrender all heirs and graces and retreat to welcoming lands a far.

But the crowds jeered.

The Queen voiced her dismay at the young couple’s desire to abandon their Great Nation.

Still the couple could do no right!

But fear not! The young couple realised that the Kindgom was founded on institionalised racism thus would never be satisfied with a royal member who glowed with a “funny tinge”.

Thus from that day forward, it was decided by the Banished Pair that the haters and hate spreaders of the land could go and truly F&£k themselves.

Merrily the they left the tiny island surrounded by blue and lived happily ever after.

The End.

Movie in cinemas soon.

2020 Vision

Preface into the post below

When I first filed for divorce I sent a group message to all my friends so it was out there. No elephants in the Whats Up groups so to speak.

Many of my friends outside my close circle were shocked.

“We thought you had the perfect life!?!”

I was equally shocked by their view of my life. Since that revelation I have tried to be as open about life’s ups and downs as possible with hopes that anyone in a similar situation sees their journey reflected in mine and knows that they are not alone. Xxx

2020 Vision

This decade I have got married and got divorced.

Been pregnant three times given birth once.

Bought two houses but for almost two years was effectively homeless.

Excitedly danced in front of a televised audience of 26.3 Million and been petrified of performing poetry to a group of 50.

Almost died trapped in a house fire in Lagos and swum naked in the Ionian Sea.

Abandoned my passions, embraced them again and found new channels of expression.

Traveled unapologetically.

Moved to Nigeria, came back early-unapologetically.

Almost died three times. Lived my “best life” many more.

Freed myself from friendships and relationships no longer for me and founded the Sisterhood Supperclub.

It has been a decade of many firsts and hopefully many lasts.

I started the decade thinking I had found love and end it rekindling my selflove and finding heart bursting joy and unconditional love in the smile of my beloved (not a)baby(anymore) boy.

Xx🖤xX

🎉Happy New Year everyone!! 🎉

Playing the race card

In a recent interview the “Head of Britain’s ‘strictest school” claimed that black children were using the ‘race card’ when in trouble.

The rhetoric is that of an aging, white, conservative male trying to dismiss the divisive legacy of the British empire but the words belong to a youngish “women of colour” (pictured above).

I wonder how she can feel so comfortable with her blackness being used to validate the notion that racism does not exist in the education system.

I wonder how her family feels when her words are used as ammunition to shoot down the varied and valid experiences of BAME people. How confortable they feel that knowing she has told parents to ignore reports of racism from their children.

With her claim that troublesome black children play “the race card’, I wonder if the irony that her race is the only reason she’s being given air time is lost on her? Does she realise that she’s the black ace being played by racists?

Racists who use her words as soundbites to prevent education reform.

And as school “Punishments” which disproportionately affect BAME students, align more and more with prison systems (solitary/isolation booths, saturday detentions, detentions for low level behaviours etc) our schools need reforming.

Our National Curriculum, underpinned by Britain’s perspective of history as a PR exercise – needs reforming.

Testing methods which rely on teacher assessment, easily suspectable to teacher bias – needs resisting.

Catchment areas of *good schools*drawn around property prices – needs revising.

The reduced government funding – needs reversing.

Obviously, this not a post discussing whether teachers are or are not racist. I am referring to the structural racism in our education system (see below for further reading) harming our children. The children that head teachers should be trying to protect, not further alienate.

TBH xx

Don’t lose your vote

Last Sunday I was prevented from voting during a local Parliamentary Candidate vote. After queuing for almost an hour with my son, I was informed I would not be able to leave the hall until the vote had concluded four hours later. 4 hours with a 5 year old and no childcare facilities or activities.

I had to leave.

I lost my vote.

I wasn’t alone.

Many other parents and carers had to leave because they couldn’t commit to staying the full four hours with dependants to care for.

But rather than just complain, we took action so that parents would not be excluded at the following vote. At the following canidate elections we (parents unable to vote previously) organised a drop in creche so that parents could stay and vote this time around.

We must make getting involved in politics more family friendly. Our vote is too important to lose.

The outcome of this general election puts the NHS, education and fire services.. ALL public services at risk.

It is estimated that there have been 130,000 “preventable” deaths as a direct result of austerity cuts. We can not survive another Conservative (or Liberal Democrat coalition) Government.

Our planet cannot survive another Government that only serves corporations profits and personal interests.

Don’t just suffer or complain about how awful this Government is. Register to vote. Support friends, family and vulnerable people in your community with voting-make sure your voices are heard.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-5015581

This is the time to come together and bring change for the many not the few.

TBH xx

Retrograde State of Mind

Mercury Retrogrades have had a bit of a bad rap since their recent reincarnation into modern pop culture.

By memes and astrology pages alone, Mercury in Retrograde would be up there with four horseman and the front page of The Daily Mail as something bound to ruin your day.

But perhaps our Sun’s closest neighbour is just a misunderstood planet whizzing around a massive orb of fire on a slightly wonky orbit.

To be clear, I’m not trying to test fate when I talk down the tumultuous energy which MiR is notorious for. But the fact that Mercury isn’t travelling backwards during its “retrograde”, (it just appears that way from our perspective on Earth) and that it is the fastest (orbit speed) planet in our solar system makes me wonder whether it’s we humans who have our wires crossed.

In fact, Mercury’s orbit actually pushed ancient scientists to finally let go of their beloved notion that the Earth was the centre of the universe. As dented as those eggheaded egos were, their acceptance of an unwelcome truth literally expanded their universe infinitely.

So maybe Mercury in Retrograde is just simply a good time to reflect and accept unwelcome truths in order to expand and evolve?

And as the last retrograde of 2019 approaches, I am going to welcome it as an opportunity to take time to digest and reflect.

Naturally, I mean this literally as well as figuratively as the women’s network that I Co founded, Sisterhood Supper Club, will be hosting it’s first open invite dinner. (12 courses, no less)

Digestion AND trying something new, truly a retrograde State of mind…

During this retrograde, see if you can raise a toast every time you..

Ideas by @foreverconcious

Cheers to that! Happy retrograde and Halloween everyone!

TBH xx

#itsOkNotToBeOk

It’s hard to find a single person who hasn’t been touched by mental health. Whether a family member, partner or personally, the pressures of modern society are taking a toll on our collective mental health.

As part of World Mental Health Awareness day, people have been encouraged to share their experiences of mental health and combat the stigma attached. I hope all the shared experiences reach the people who need it.

Here’s mine.. XxX

In twelve months my whole life changed and crumbled – health, wealth, job, home, relationship – collapsed.

The little that remained of my confidence and identity (after being in a particularly pychologically abusive relationship) finally retreated.

The relentless onslaught of failures, health issues, work issues, battles and abuse kept my body permanently in fight or flight mode. I was overwhelmed and perpetually exhausted.

At times I asked my friends to assess my sanity. After years of abuse and gaslighting, I couldn’t be sure if my perception of reality was working properly.

The thought of depression often conjures pictures of unhappiness or numbness but for me I just felt exhausted. Birds singing made me smile and music could move me, but after so many knock downs the fear of the unknown future fuckery lurking around the next corner kept me living in the future and in a constant state of high anxiety.

To escape my thoughts often turned to suicide, not because I was unhappy, I just wanted to rest. I was too tired and didn’t want to keep battling, being “strong” or “dusting myself off”.

I remember one day feeling particularly trapped and full of self pity. I stared longingly out of a ninth floor hotel window wanting to jump. My responsibilities and beliefs meant that I could never commit suicide and tears streamed down my face at that reality. I saw death as a beautiful peace that I wasn’t allowed to have alive.

But it was also during that dark time that I realised that my friends unconditionally accepted me. Even in such a broken and needy state. They were there for me and I realised that I was worthy enough to receive their love.

It was a couple of years before I could start to process and heal from all the trauma but I still feel blessed today knowing that each step of the way my friends were there.

Years later those times seem like another life, but I will never forget the kindness of my friends and the liberating lesson that we all are worthy of such kindness and love.

To all my friends and family that were there for me thank you xxxx

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/

Surrender To The Madness. Joker review

The Joker is a master piece needed for this moment in time.

A time when unelected leaders shut down open debates by elected representatives in the name of democracy.

A time when protestors fighting to save our planet are imprisoned or attacked whilst the perpetrators of the crimes against humanity are rewarded by profits and protected by a bias media.

Where a person kills an innocent man in his own home and is given more sympathy than the victim because the killer was a white women and the victim was a black man- but we are told daily that modern society is colour blind.

We live in the age of cognitive dissonance and the mental illness it causes.

Joker gets this. It is not an comic book action movie. It captures ground zero tipping point of extreme measure. The realisation that whilst living in crazy times carrying on as if everything is normal is the true sign of madness.

Cue manic laugh at the irony…

But in that manic cackle (that Phoenix pulls off so well) is the ghost of everytime you have ever laughed in disbelief or shrugged “Fuck This Shit” at the news or ridiculously shitty, unjust or unfair life moment.

That medicinal laughter that feels so good. Numbs your pain and mollifies your hope. Comic relief from the harsh realities of a fucked up world.

This is perhaps why the Joker is an uncomfortable watch for many. No we are not going to turn into an angry mob of murdering, looting psychopaths or think that Joker is the messiah returned. But Gotham reminds us too much of where we are right now.

But Batman isnt coming and our world is being led by a pack of Jokers.

Joker receives 🏅🏅🏅🏅🏅

But should come with a trigger warning regarding child/domestic abuse and mental health.

Should I stay or Should I go..

Every time I’m by the sea, I feel at peace and never want to leave. But something always pulls me back to the big smoke…

I love the diversity, activity and randomness of London. I love my friends and family..

I love the ridiculous selection of weaves, wigs and shea butter at my local hair shop, the plethora of black owned vegan joints popping up everywhere and my beloved Suya stall.

I love attending pop up art exhibitions, crayfish parties, or a shoobs at the back of Jamaican take away all on the same day.

I love walking down the street and seeing people I know, children I’ve taught and my daily commuter friends who I’ll never know their names or where they’re going.

But the sea is still calling me.

Awfully Unlawfully

Last week I was back at Parliament for a class trip to teach the children about democracy..however it was a tad difficult to explain how we
live in a democratic society when we couldn’t watch any elected MPs debate as Parliament had been 🎉UNLAWFULLY🎉 prorogued by an unelected Prime Minister, selected by 92,153 people ( 0.002 %of voting population) the majority of which were old, rich white men. #justiceserved #fckboris

However in response to Labour’s plans to scrape private schools… I think it would be more productive to address the issues as to why people choose them for their children. I don’t necessarily believe that private schools automatically means a better academic education (more rounded generally–yes) but they definitely have more money and the opportunity to make connections/establish social status. Private schools are a reflection of the plutocracy in which we live, where how much you have, where you went to school, who you know and not what you know are the keys to success. This mindset has led to our country being governed by a handful of unqualified private school boys. But abolishing private schools won’t change that mentality or break the old boys network which has corrupted our society. Stopping the million pound tax rebates for private schools and reinvesting back into underfunded state schools is a good start though.. #etonmess #brexit #borisjohnson
#criminal #labour #schools #fuckboris #jc4pm