Who Defines You? More Thoughts On The James Chartrand Story

I am a writer, blogger and editor. I am an avid reader and a keen Scrabble player. I am a mother and wife. I am a black woman. All of these things are part of who I am but no single one defines me. I was reminded of this when I read James Chartrand’s amazing story about changing her name and online persona to enable her to care for her family.

In some ways, this story made me sad, because it reminded me that there are always those who want to put us in a box and define how we live in it. They see the externals, make judgments and behave accordingly. I have turned up to interviews where people have been visibly shocked to see a black woman. “Your name doesn’t sound black,” I was once told. (Just what is a ‘black’ name, anyway?)

In others, it inspired me, because it shows that we don’t have to buy into those definitions, to allow others to say what’s right for us. We CAN fight back, even if not all of us choose to do it in James’s rather unorthodox fashion.

In much of my time in the UK, particularly in the work environment, I suffered for the double whammy of being both black and female. “Why didn’t you apply to work for one of the ‘ethnic’ papers?” asked one interviewer. “Because,” I replied, “the colour of my skin is does not define who I am and what I am interested in.”

I’d be lying if I said it was never an issue. There are ways in which the treatment of people of different ethnicities is so unequal as to forever create divides. (As a former lecturer on cultural studies, I have studied inequality as well as lived it.) I have been called the ’n’ word, I have had accommodation evaporate before my eyes, I have had people try to pay me less despite my experience and skill. For me, those experiences do not give me the excuse for blanket hatred, for blaming others and for opting out of taking responsibility for my own life.

Unlike James, my picture is all over the internet. Unlike James, I use my real name for my online interactions. It’s true that there might be people who don’t hire me because I’m a black woman — their loss. Those who do hire me will find that like James, I know my value and I accept nothing less.