Unpacking cross-national discussions of Black identity

Responding to schwarz (black) by Amuna Wagner

 

By Memuna Konteh - 12/08/21

 

As Black people, we too often engage in dead-end diaspora debates that take place online, leaving very little room for nuanced discussions about our individual Black experiences. This is why a film like schwarz is so important. Titled ‘Black’ in German, Amuna Wagner’s documentary intertwines poetry, photography and film to present a series of intimate and stimulating conversations between 17 young, Black and mixed-race Black Germans from Nuremberg, Bavaria. 

schwarz is exemplary of the kind of mindful discussions that should be taking place in Black communities: discussions where nobody is shouting above anyone else to declare that the racism they’ve experienced is more damaging than what someone else has faced; where people are free to speak their piece and be heard; and discussions underpinned by empathy and active efforts towards understanding are truly safe spaces.

Watching it from the perspective of a Black Brit, I learned a lot about how the language and politics of Blackness shift depending on where you are in the diaspora. For example, descriptors like “half-breed” and “coloured” are still commonplace terms in Germany, with many of the 1 million Black people in the country using them to self-identify. Although initially shocked by the archaic and problematic nature of some of these terms, I had to check myself so as not to frame this around my assumptions as an English speaker. I had to work to understand how some of the film’s protagonists interpreted the range of terms as a good thing, representing the diversified nature of Blackness and giving Afro-Germans a choice in how they identify.

Through use of extracts from German poems by Audre Lorde, May Ayim and Stefanie-Lahya Aukongo, schwarz also reminded me of the place that words have in the liberation struggle and the impact of paying homage to those who gave us the language to express and unpack the trauma of our oppression.

I don’t believe that any two Black experiences are comparable but I saw myself in a lot of the interviewees. One in particular talks about the shock of coming to London and seeing how populous and dynamic the Black community is here. As a Black woman who grew up in the (overwhelmingly white) city of York, I recall similar feelings of awe and relief when I would spend summers with cousins on the South London estates, mingling with more Black kids than I had seen all year.

Others in the film speak of the loneliness and burden of being the only Black person in a lot of spaces growing up, an experience that has forced those of us who relate to establish defense mechanisms that many only start to recognise in our adulthood. An interviewee even mentions how they used to try and ‘make their lips small’ so they didn’t stand out so much in school and I immediately thought of the painful years of braces I endured as a teen because I'd spent my early childhood sucking in my bottom lip and gave myself an overbite. Blackness is far from monolithic but it’s comforting to see commonalities in our realities.

The questions raised in the film are often just as powerful as the responses. Wagner does not shy away from the heavy stuff and asks deeply probing things like, ‘What makes us Black?’ and, ‘Do you feel appreciated and represented by German society?’ This opens up discussions around the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement last year, which really provoked me to self-reflect. Like a lot of the schwarz cast, I was irked by the performative anti-racism that the protests brought out in white people and I'm still irked today because so many couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the charade now that it’s no longer topical. The films also echoed my discomfort with the US-centricity of the BLM coverage in Europe.  

On the flip side, however, I think last year’s protests brought about a shift in both myself and the schwarz collective: a renewed pride in Black people for having made it this far. A pride in our strength and commitment to survival and for the solidarity we show each other time and time again, be it ‘the nod’ we use to acknowledge each other in unwelcome spaces or the ways in which we step up to protect each other when filming incidents of police brutality. For example, I like how the individuals in the film unpack the messy duality of the feelings that arose from the BLM protests, connecting it to the wider issue of how we define our Blackness. For a long time, I didn’t know how to categorise my relationship with my Black identity. I struggled to marry the knowledge that racism is very real with my understanding of race as a construct that is as fickle as any other. When someone in the documentary surmised it as a ‘political identity’, it felt like a real lightbulb moment for me.

Along the lines of personal politics, it was also interesting to see how many of the film’s protagonists rejected nationalism despite – or, perhaps, also because of –​​​​ the emerging global trends towards it, especially in Europe. One interviewee even goes as far as to say, “The line between pride in heritage and stupidity is very thin,” demonstrating young people’s increasing awareness of the interconnectivity of global injustice. No one nation is innocent of perpetuating inequality and white supremacist patriarchy runs through every fiber of society, so why take pride in any one country?

On the other side of that debate, my heart was warmed by the celebrations of Black culture in the film. As well as introducing me to two Afro-German poets that I had not previously heard of, there are references to different musicians from Africa and the diaspora, such as Juju Rogers, and movements, such as the 2019 Sudanese revolution. Watching schwarz was very much an exercise in expansion for me and taught me the value of looking outside of the English-speaking world for narratives on Black identity.

Wagner’s work is yet another reminder of how nuanced and complex Blackness is, in every context, and how it’s perfectly okay for us, as Black people, to self-define however we like. When it came to questions around Blackness and social responsibility, one subject spoke of their will to speak out against racism coming from a place of self-determination rather than obligation – a viewpoint I think we could all benefit from adopting, especially in light of the last 12 months.

I believe the world needs more documentaries like schwarz and that filmmakers like Amuna Wagner are true gems. It is clear from the onset that she has a clear vision which is executed artfully, and her understanding of how music, image and language interact to tell a wider story really shines. More than once, I paused at the stills just to take them in, stopped and thought, ‘Wow, this is really beautiful –we are really beautiful.’

schwarz (black) is streaming at Fringe of Colour Films 2021, 8 - 14 August. Watch it here.

 

 

I’m Memuna Konteh, a 22-year-old Sierra Leonean woman who was raised in North Yorkshire and is currently based in London. I aspire to be the kind of writer who give voices to the marginalised and silenced. Find me on Twitter @memandms and Instagram @memkonteh.

 
Photo of Memuna
 
Previous
Previous

Interrogating the usefulness of labels

Next
Next

From Nigeria to Brazil: Unravelling violent diasporic legacies