Courtesy of the release of the latest Census figures, we can now be sure that mixed race people are the fastest growing ethnic group in the UK. They are now so strongly represented in every walk of life, think Jess Ennis, Barak Obama, Alesha Dixon, Rio Ferdinand etc, etc, that the majority of people no longer have a problem with either the concept or the results of inter-racial breeding.
I must admit to having a vested interest in the fortunes of mixed racers as I happen to be one myself. I am the product of a black, Trinidadian father and a white, British mother, who met and married in the late 1960s, a time when society was not blessed with the racial tolerance that we revel in now. I believe they were actually spat at in the street and certainly, my mother's parents boycotted the wedding day.
I grew up in a fairly middle class, predominantly white part of Kent, where the nearest most of our neighbours got to experiencing another culture was when they went to pick up their Indian or Chinese takeaway on a Friday night. At the primary school I moved to when I was 8, I was the only brown-skinned child there and boy did I know about it. 'Paki' seemed to be the greeting of choice, closely followed by 'blackie' and 'nigger'. I remember wondering what on earth was the correct response when being yelled at by other kids to 'f**k off back to where you came from'. "What, you mean Dartford?" I would occasionally reply to their snarling faces.
I could see that a lot of these kids were actually quite curious about someone who looked a bit different and as time wore on some of them became friends of sorts. Even at that young age I could see that the problem lay with how they had been brought up, in households where ignorance and prejudice ruled the day and that they, by verbally abusing me, were simply regurgitating stuff they'd heard at home.
Secondary school, a typically 'bog-standard' comprehensive, was similarly white. Again I found myself encountering racial abuse on a daily basis. I remember other kids wanting to fight with me quite a lot. I probably did myself no favours as on the outside I refused to be cowed by people calling me a 'f****ing Paki' even though inside I was absolutely bloody terrified!
When I get together now with my two oldest girlfriends, classmates from that school, we reminisce about how different life was then and just how many times I was forced to use my fists to get through the day. We can laugh now about the one time when they literally stood by me, one at each shoulder and said to the main tormentor "if you want to fight her, you'll have to fight us aswell". Ah those were the days eh?!!
But it's funny being mixed race - half and half - dual heritage - not one thing or the other - call it what you like, it's made me totally 'colour-blind' when it comes to other people; I really do not make assumptions based on how people look and I find it quite extraordinary when others do just that. Do you remember Greg Dykes's comment about the BBC being 'hideously white'? I found that troubling in so many ways.
I suppose at the heart of it I believe in the very best people being chosen for the job, regardless of their skin colour. It bothers me that in this tolerant age there might still be situations where a 'person of colour' (to borrow that slightly sickly American phrase) might be passed over for promotion because of their skin tone. But it also bothers me to the same degree that a white person might be overlooked in favour of someone darker, just to balance the books, as it were.
So in my school days I was considered too black to fit in, until that is, we all turned 14 and something miraculous happened. Suddenly (and I mean suddenly, it was literally overnight), the perceptions of my schoolmates began to change and being different equalled cool. They also noted that I was lucky enough to have a year round suntan, something all my pasty peers aspired to in the days of 80s neon disco clothes and immediately, with a few stubborn exceptions (offspring of National Front supporters probably) I was someone cool to hang with.
Another time I shall regale you with the story of when I found myself curiously 'not black enough' to fit with my manager's stereotypical view of what a mixed race person should look like, if such a thing is possible. Until then dear reader, until then.
