Breaking down the barriers of BME engagement

“My mother was born in Jamaica, I was born in Bristol and I will die in this city,” says David McLeod, as he comes to the end of another short, but impassioned speech. “I even hope I’ll end up in Filton Cemetery,” adds the former City Academy employee who won a high-profile discrimination case, as he hammers home his point about race inequality in Bristol.

“We are not visitors anymore,” says the have-a-go campaigner, over his hot chocolate in a quiet Welsh Back cafe. “We are not an add-on, not a lodger. We are here and part of the household.”

David, who is now starting to dip his toes into politics, is part of a small but noisy group looking to force the issue of black and minority ethnic (BME) engagement in the public life of a city which will, perhaps, forever be tarnished by its slavery past.

We are chatting after his appearance in a short video which surfaced a couple of weeks ago entitled Time to Step Up, where mayoral hopeful Marvin Rees calls on BME communities across Bristol get up and get involved with local politics.

“How are we going to make sure in 20 years our kids are not having the same conversations as we are having today? If you look at our city, does our leadership represent diversity of thought?” he asks.

Addressing a small and diverse group at Easton Community Centre, he adds: “That’s down to us, how are we going to step up and make things different?”

In the most basic way possible, political engagement in Bristol can be measured by looking at the makeup of the city council chamber, where, out of 70, three councillors are from BME backgrounds. That’s 4.3 per cent, by the way. And it’s way short of the 22 per cent of Bristol which is now BME.

Even more concerning is that where there is underrepresentation, there is also over representation. “You look at the criminal justice system, unemployment, the lower end of school results, and even mental health services,” says David. “There you will find it.”

David believes, like many, that one of the symptoms of the under/over-representation, is the simple acceptance that it has to be like this. “One of the biggest barriers I have found is lack of expectation. When I went through my experience with standing up to my employers, that’s what I saw in the people around me.

“And among the youth there is also this disbelief. It’s like we don’t want more than what we’ve got. When I talk to younger people and they tell me what they want to do, I see they aim low. But it doesn’t have to be this way. There is a different way.”

David reckons involving more BME people in public life – campaigns, local pressure groups, consultations and politics – is a place to start in showing people that things can be better.

Someone who is a few steps ahead of him already is Ruth Pitter, from BME Voice, which has put together the Bristol Manifesto for Race Equality.

The idea is to set out in writing a plan for eradicating inequality and call on the city’s most powerful to enact it.

“Not only has not much changed in Bristol recently, but in some cases it has actually gone backwards,” Ruth says, on her way to a new MetroBus consultation in which she hopes to involve more BME people.

She says apathy and fear are some of the biggest barriers with getting people involved with public life, local issues and eventually politics.

The only way to change that is by being a trailblazer, she says. “It’s chicken and egg. People need to see change, real change. Only then, do they want to be involved in it.

“Activists at local levels are doing great. But higher up – where the power lies – people can be doing even more.

“Some of it is about inspiring other people. Some of it is about showing we can be a successful city in terms of race equality.”

One of the few people to have segued their way from grass roots politics to the corridors of power in recent years is the city’s first Somali-born councillor, Hibaq Jama.

But she says she is still shocked by the “complete lack of desire” to change things from the top. “You only have to look at our universities, police, council and media to see how poorly represented BME communities are,” she says.

She says it is also evident in her casework how communities feel excluded from the decisions which affect them. Representing Lawrnece Hill, she sees a lot people growing up in poverty, without the confidence which comes as standard in the settled, middle-class white areas communities across Bristol.

They are “leaving school without the basic skills of effective communication”, she says. “Schools in deprived areas such as Lawrence Hill have too many schools in special measures. This means that not only are some not well prepared for the job market but that they are also lacking in confidence when it comes to taking leadership positions.”

But she adds that her own profile in her community has already had people asking her questions about getting involved themselves. The only thing in their way, that word again: fear.

“I get asked a lot. But it’s the fear in the end. People say ‘what you are doing is really great, but I wouldn’t do it’.

“The truth is, they can. It is hard work and there has to be an unwillingness to stop just because your face doesn’t fit.

“I can only hope by being visible and being involved people see they can do it and it’s not as difficult as it looks.”

Watching her stand up in the council chamber, toe-to-toe with people like George Ferguson, you can see why some people are realising that they too can do it.

Osob Elmi, 19, from Stoke Bishop, is one of those people – although the budding young Conservative supporter stops short of calling Hibaq a role model, for her Labour Party ties.

Osob, a Muslim teenager with Somali roots, has already taken her first political steps by volunteering at MP Charlotte Leslie’s office, where she has even been encouraged to step forward as a councillor herself – something she never thought possible.

“I think many young people and a lot from ethnic minorities feel like because they don’t many people from their race or culture involved in things like politics they think that’s not for them,” she says. “That’s the big barrier at the end of the day.”

Weighing up whether she can balance politics with the degree she is starting in October, she adds she is one of the few who have had the lucky break which has given her confidence.

In Easton, one man who has fallen out of the political system after a trailblazing start is local businessman (of Pak Butchers) and chairman of Easton’s Jamia Masjid mosque, Abdul Malik

The city’s first Asian or Muslim councillor (now taking a break from politics) says politics has become very “disengaging” and “uninspiring” for a lot of BME people who don’t feel they are being listened to.

“When people see they are being noticed, they will come forward, but I think there’s a generally feeling they are being ignored at the moment.

“It doesn’t fit in with the wider vision that the city should be about equality and representation,” he adds.

He says he would urge people to join political parties to get active and help solve problems of inequality faster, adding: “Maybe the colour of our skin is different, but we’re a Bristolians, like everyone else here, at the end of the day.”

At the Welsh Back cafe, David, who has already stood (unsuccessfully) for election for Labour in the predominantly white ward of Stockwood, is itching, raring, to get more involved. He joined the part when he finally realised the best way to make change is from within, following grass roots campaigning off the back of his move away from City Academy.

“I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he says, explaining why he took to the doorsteps in May. “I realised I can scream and shout from the outside. But instead of standing outside throwing stones, I realised I could only make the change by being in it.”

Main image from Telling Tales Films.