Courtesy of a wayward bat lunch, our news headlines have been dominated by one key element for the past year. But the killing of George Floyd sparked a second channel of heated discussion, one which Naga Munchetty addresses in her documentary, “Let's talk about race”.
Slickly edited, with a soundtrack that tugs heartstrings on cue, both Munchetty’s story and the supporting material tell tales as powerful as they are rooted in hard fact. Her own experiences of discrimination are, frankly, worrying. They include an incident from childhood of a friend who stopped spending time with her because of her skin colour, and more recent abuse she faced following her support for BLM protests. Nothing has changed, she shows.
Munchetty highlights two key flavours of racism. The first is overt. It’s demonstrated by the number of Chinese Brits who recall harsh taunts, thrown items and even street beatings. Not in 1950, but 2020. Yes, we still have a significant proportion of people who paint a virus-fuelled blood libel on people who look different. Those of Islamic faith (or anyone who happens to have vaguely olive-coloured skin) can have similar experiences when terrorism fills the headlines.
Then there’s the hidden kind, manifesting in pale ‘n’ male boardrooms, as well as job interviews where well-qualified non-whites lose out to less skilled Caucasians – always with a seemingly legitimate explanation. Munchetty highlights this issue when interviewing a black receptionist who has been passed up for promotion several times. She also talks to Corey, a black twenty-year-old semi-professional basketball player from Bristol. Corey is repeatedly briefed by his dad in the manner of a skilled PR agent: be streetwise, be alert to how people will judge you, and do not commit the cardinal sin of expressing your true feelings. Meanwhile his grandmother looks on with the grave face of someone with no tears left to cry. She’s become long desensitised to the prejudice her family continues to experience since she first stepped off Windrush. Things have improved, she accepts, but not nearly enough.
Yet despite raising the hard-hitting realities of modern racism, Munchetty’s view appears selective. In Blythe, she discusses white privilege with John, a local. John, who might fit the UK equivalent of a midwestern redneck stereotype, doesn’t believe such privilege exists. “If it’s about being entitled to summat you ‘aven’t earned, then it’s not ‘ere”, he scoffs. “I’ve ‘ad to work for everything I’ve got”. (That’s a rough paraphrase, but you get the idea.) He’s missed the point. White privilege is not about whites being better off, but about non-whites having it worse. Stephen, his son, only serves to fuel the issue. “Yeah, white privilege exists”, he quips, “and I don’t apologise for it”.
The interviews with John and Stephen do offer some genuine insight. But these conversations seem chiefly intended to persuade the viewer that their take-home message is the product of balanced debate. There you go, you’re meant to feel, the area really is filled with closet (and not so closet) racists. Fears that the area might get left behind due to its low minority proportion are palmed off. Just as John misses the point on white privilege, Munchetty misses the point on Blythe. The local pie is so small that discussing the slicing is not helpful.
Later, Stephen raises the issue of funding for his local cricket club. His Asian colleague presented a request to the council, and the grant went ahead. Stephen reckons that had he, a Caucasian gent, gone instead, he would have been turned down. After all, the club is mainly used by white kids. Munchetty turns to his colleague. “How does this accusation make you feel?” she asks. That’s a fair question. But by focussing solely on this issue, she dismisses any implication that this might be a legitimate concern in a world where diversity is ostensibly at the forefront of acceptable thinking.
The overall picture is mixed. Fuelled by her own well-reasoned outrage, Munchetty’s documentary identifies several worrying issues. It’s just a shame that the home-truths are hampered by a number of half-ones. Yes, it's time to talk about race. But to include everyone in the conversation, we need a more balanced perspective.