My first big fat Indian wedding

When my wife first told her family she was in an interracial relationship with a black man, it's fair to say it was met with some trepidation. Her community’s insularity had provided barely any exposure to black people beyond negative stereotypes and that in turn had served as the basis of culturally institutionalised prejudice.

But above all, their qualms were driven by a concern that relationships were difficult enough for a couple from the same community. To them, an interracial relationship meant espousing that commonality and not understanding each other’s culture. That meant an additional but unnecessary layer of challenge to a relationship.

In retrospect, they’d acknowledge all their concerns were unfounded. Although they were almost proved right when I was faced with my first big fat Indian wedding. I’d been to other Indian weddings. Yet this was the first where I was attending as a close family member and it gave an insight into an aspect of my wife’s culture that I just couldn’t fathom.

You see, this wasn’t just a wedding, it was an extravaganza. A series of events spanning over a week, both building up to the wedding and subsequent to the big day. None were on a small scale either. As a relative newcomer to the culture, it was sometimes fascinating to observe. Nevertheless, I just couldn’t get my head around what I was actually experiencing.

First, there was a ceremony where the bride’s family ‘officially’ invited the groom’s side to the wedding. This was despite the couple already being married (their civil ceremony, the only aspect of their wedding that was on a small scale, was weeks prior to the Indian wedding). Given the necessary planning, the fact a wedding was occurring wasn’t news to anyone either.

I was on the groom’s family’s side and there was a religious ceremony with our side prior to the wedding. It was quickly apparent that none of the groom’s generation (including the groom himself) had any idea what was going on and weren’t interested either. Meanwhile, the elders had no definitive version of what was supposed to actually happen either. As a result, it descended into somewhat of a palaver. The generation that cared couldn’t agree on what was supposed to happen and the generation that didn’t care became visibly nonchalant to what was happening.



There were more social and secular events, such as the mehndi party, that were a good opportunity to casually interact with guests from both sides and outside of the formalities of the wedding. But they also added to the layers of wedding festivities. With a big wedding, there was also increased wedding politics and increased stress for all involved with the planning. As the wedding approached, I’d never seen the groom, a jovial wind up merchant and happy-go-lucky chap, looking so stressed with the rigmarole of it all.

The week of festivities was enjoyable, as most weddings are, but tiring. As the number of events began to take their toll, still happy countenances, including those of the couple, were now tinged with and betrayed by fatigue.

I considered my own wedding as my main reference point and the contrast was stark. I don’t recall my wife or I ever being stressed throughout the planning and our wedding spanned one day. Ceremony, wedding breakfast and a party at the reception. Bish, bash, bosh. I felt we had a fair amount of guests (although my wife insisted that it was a small wedding by Indian wedding standards). Whereas the groom of this wedding jokingly conceded, as truth said in jest, that he didn’t know half the guests even on his own side. That’s unsurprising given one function had in excess of 800 guests in attendance.

Try as I might, I just couldn’t rationalise a series of events of this scale being a feature of a wedding of any culture. My wife largely shared my stance but being of the culture herself, she just accepted it; something I wasn’t able to do. Aside from my wife having to listen to my repeated incredulity, did it cause a problem? Not really unless you count her becoming fed up of listening to me.

It got me thinking about how these customs had managed to endure generations of the diaspora that were increasingly distanced from the land where they originated. There’s much of my West Indian culture that I cling onto, and will continue to do so, alongside my culture as a British born black man. I would support that for any diaspora community. Though within a traditional Indian or South Asian wedding, there doesn’t appear to be as much influence from British society and norms as one might expect. Which is surprising given how long the South Asian community has been present in the UK.

Any suggestion that the diaspora eschew their roots would be both foolish and culturally insensitive. But what of bridging the gap between British society, a culture that most are more au fait and wedded to, than that of their roots?

Take the duration. A week’s worth of wedding festivities is a huge imposition on a guest in considering leave from work and other commitments. Even with functions in the evening, that’s still an imposition on people’s time when it’s not just once but a repeated demand on one’s schedule.

The customary and expected effort made by wedding guests in just looking the part has to be repeated several times over for an Indian wedding. Ask any female attending a wedding of the endeavours that go into getting ready for a wedding of any culture and then multiply that several times. While my wife enjoys wearing traditional Indian clothes (as did I during the week’s functions), she and most Asian women can attest that wearing a saree doesn’t come close to the ease of wearing a dress or a suit so you can imagine the effort required when it’s for a series of events.

Then there’s the cost. In austere times, traditional Indian weddings are bucking the trend in pursuit of grand affairs but surely not everyone can afford it. Indeed, I’m sure many have provoked the ire of Indian Bridezillas in not sharing their enthusiasm for, or suggesting scaling back from, their ideal wedding scenario despite its accompanying spiralling cost.

I wouldn’t want to see the visuals and overall sensory experience of Asian weddings diluted and it’s important that it isn’t. The clothes, the colours, the music, the food and the nod to past traditions. They’re all part of the culture that need to be preserved and celebrated. However, as another generation of the diaspora are charged with taking these customs forward, I’m not sure how much longevity Asian weddings can experience in their current format.

While I would have been willing to have an Indian wedding had my wife wanted one, there’s no way I would have agreed to the endless number of guests, many of whom neither of us knew. Nor would I have agreed to the number of functions that has become standard practice. And I definitely wouldn’t have been happy with the bill for it all either.

As the Indian and wider South Asian diaspora becomes more removed from its roots and further connected to western ideals, I imagine Asian weddings will see a similar trend.

The next generation of the diaspora, whose then elders are now having weddings that they themselves are disconnected to, won’t share the desire for a big Asian wedding. And with a slow, yet visible, increase in interracial marriages within the Asian community, weddings are likely to reflect this too.

Preserving the diaspora’s culture is important and necessary. Though at what cost does manifesting that come when its conduit is a traditional wedding that’s out of step with everything else the couple know?

No black America, you aren't the custodians of the diaspora’s experience and culture

Earlier this week, a friend put me onto a Hot 97 interview with Samuel L. Jackson where he spoke about the influx of black British actors in America. Indeed, many black British actors are experiencing stateside success and Jackson was somewhat aggrieved that this was taking the roles of his compatriots and peers. However, what I took umbrage with was the subtext of Jackson’s comments on his perception of the validity of the black British experience representing the diaspora. This was when talking about black British actor Daniel Kaluuya being cast in Get Out, a horror comedy about contemporary racism.

“I know the young brother who’s in the movie, and he’s British… There are a lot of black British actors that work in this country. All the time. I tend to wonder what would that movie [Get Out] have been with an American brother who really understands that in a way. Because Daniel [Kaluuya] grew up in a country where they’ve been interracial dating for a hundred years. Britain, there’s only about eight real white people left in Britain … So what would a brother from America have made of that role? And I’m sure the director helped. Some things are universal, but everything ain’t.”

Since it was aired, the interview has had plenty of media coverage, much of it surrounding Jackson's criticism of black British actors taking US roles (Jackson has sought to clarify his comments saying his criticism was more of the system than targeted at British actors). Nonetheless, that doesn’t change the fact that there was a clear undertone in Jackson’s utterances that he, like many African Americans, see themselves as the custodians of the diaspora’s experience and culture. Although, not only is that not a role they undoubtedly do not possess, given contemporary African American culture, one could argue they aren’t qualified to assume it either.

I like and respect Samuel L. Jackson. Despite some questionable roles, he has a solid body of work and cannot be denied as a talent and veteran within the arts and the black diaspora. But when it comes to talking about black British culture, identity and experience, it’s something he’s hugely ignorant to and therefore needs to fall back and pipe down because he has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

On interracial relationships in the UK, they are surely growing but the 2011 UK census showed 2.2% of the British population identified as mixed race while 86% identified as white. It’s hardly the erosion of the white race in the UK that Jackson alluded to. Furthermore, despite increased acceptance, interracial relationships are still somewhat a taboo in the UK which would suggest that the struggle of interracial harmony in the UK is very much present.

That struggle is compounded by the history of race relations in the UK. Black America doesn’t have a monopoly on the hardships of the diaspora when it comes to achieving equality and positive race relations. The British were responsible for the enslavement of millions of Africans; of whom many African Americans are descendents of. Then there was the subsequent British empire that replaced slavery with colonialism. Post World War 2, many blacks came from black majority colonies to settle in the UK, only to be met with hostility and abject racism that was the product of centuries of such attitudes in British society that are still present today.

As a result, British contemporary history is littered with race riots and unrest within the black British community. Notting Hill Gate in 1958. Toxteth in Liverpool in 1981. Brixton in 1981 and 1985. Broadwater Farm in Tottenham in 1985. The list goes on. Needless to say, the black British experience is absolutely no stranger to adversity. To suggest otherwise as Jackson has is unfounded and asinine. It’s part of our past and our present and we know just how real it is.

Jackson’s sentiments aren’t exclusive to him. There’s almost an African American ‘privilege’ that so many black Americans assume when it comes to being an authority on and an authentic representation of ‘blackness’. As a black British person who’s spent time in America, many African Americans are amazed that not only are you from the UK but that there are others like you. They feel your ‘blackness’ is perhaps less credible and less authentic because you aren’t from America and therefore can’t possibly have a valid black experience that would be akin to theirs. It beggars belief that a group that often considers itself an authority on the diaspora would be so ignorant to the diaspora beyond their own borders.

Black America undoubtedly has a troubled and anguished history itself when it comes to race relations which is well documented and arguably worse than that of black Britons when it comes to contemporary history. Just don’t attempt to reduce ours in articulating that we don’t know the struggle because we know it just as intimately as the rest of the diaspora.

Admittedly, generations of the black diaspora of yesteryear once looked to black America as a bastion of the culture. The Harlem Renaissance showcased black consciousness and promoted positive black identity and the influence of subsequent civil rights leaders transcended African Americans as its audience and inspired the diaspora as a whole. Yet that’s since changed, largely due to the lack of inspiration offered by black America and the disengagement that the rest of the diaspora has with it.

In contrast to the 70s, 80s, 90s and even early 00s, if you speak to black British youth today, they have little regard for or association with African American culture. The same goes for black French youth and the rest of the diaspora. America is no longer the stronghold it was once perceived for credibly representing the culture.

Even in representations of popular black culture such as music and the wider arts, African Americans are no longer considered to produce a quality product that represents the culture better than their peers elsewhere. Instead, black America has consistently diluted and damaged what were once authentic representations of the diaspora and some of the worst representations of the culture arguably come from black America.

It’s fair to say that no section of the black community has further bastardised the diaspora’s culture en route to aggressive commercialisation and monetisation than contemporary black America. Hence it’s difficult to refute the argument that black America doesn’t even deserve to be a custodian of the diaspora’s experience given the damage it’s already done.

I was discussing this very topic with some friends and commentators on the culture and we remarked on the plethora of African American celebrity endorsements of products that are ills for the community. This isn’t what Malcolm X, Martin Luther King et al wanted and black America has undone much of the work of such inspirational leaders who were rightly figures that the wider diaspora looked up to.

Black America isn’t without credible, respected and inspirational figures such as Cornel West and Dr Boyce Watkins. But America is also home to many modern day house negroes such as US Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Ben Carson (who compared slaves to immigrants) and YouTuber minstrels and Trump acolytes Diamond and Silk.

“I don’t know, maybe the slaves came for a holiday and stayed to make America great again?”

Despite generations of hardship and inequality, it’s hard to see black America as a safe pair of hands and mouthpiece for the diaspora when such attitudes are present within their community. Don’t get me wrong, we have black British house negroes of our own but none as visible or vocal as those within America. What does that say about the dichotomised black American experience today?

Black America’s heritage is undeniable. Similarly, the African American experience is one that sears through the often painful narrative of the diaspora. Though this doesn’t give black America a right to assert itself as a custodian of the diaspora’s experience or to claim theirs as being more valid than that of the rest of the culture. To assume that role, black America has much work to do and statements like that made by Samuel L. Jackson suggest they’re the last ones to realise it.

Slavery may have ended but its shadow remains over the black diaspora

When former British Prime Minister David Cameron visited Jamaica, he made the clearest statement that his government had little empathy for the black diaspora when considering the aftermath of slavery -

“That the Caribbean has emerged from the long shadow it cast is testament to the resilience and spirit of its people. I acknowledge that these wounds run very deep indeed. But I do hope that, as friends who have gone through so much together since those darkest of times, we can move on from this painful legacy and continue to build for the future.”

These weren’t surprising utterances from Cameron and they suggest much about him and those who share his stance. Although, with less unempathetic rhetoric, there are some (including some black people) who feel any dialogue around the subject of slavery is now redundant and that it should be consigned to history to avoid dwelling on a loathsome past.

While I don’t agree with this, I can see the rationale behind such an approach when considering how latching onto the past could further stymie the progress of black people. Nevertheless, while slavery has ended, its shadow remains like an unshakeable albatross. Many lamentable features of the black narrative can be traced back to our darkest period in history and over a century later, the existence of slavery has a lot to answer for.

The black diaspora is undoubtedly facing challenges and experiencing a rate of progress that is not commensurate with other communities. When I consider postwar emigration of non-black communities, later arrivals have generally experienced more prosperity than blacks who were one of the earliest groups of immigrants to Europe and North America subsequent to World War 2. The reasons for that are plentiful enough that it’d require a separate post. Needless to say, they cannot be wholly attributed to black people either but rather the institutionalised social attitudes we’re subject to.

These attitudes (and their manifestations in respective governments and legislation) are hangovers from slavery; a time when black people were marginalised and robbed of any notion of equality or progression while systematically being dehumanised. Yes, the tangible barriers to our progress, such as access to education and our freedom, have been lifted. But in practice, the vestiges of the prejudice, racial bias and a desire to preserve our inferior position in a centuries-old racial and social hierarchy that was once legal, can still be seen in modern views towards the black community.

For real change to be effected, wider society needs to unlearn centuries of institutionalised prejudice towards blacks that was par for the course during slavery and during the years that followed. Not doing so obviously preserves the position of blacks as beneath everyone else; a position that existed for centuries. Can we therefore really expect said unlearning to have occurred in less time than those ideals were actually entrenched?

Racial and cultural bias of standardised tests provide a further hurdle for our access to high quality education and the opportunities it can afford. And one only needs to look to America to see the influence of the slave owners’ ideals that black lives don’t matter having successfully permeated law enforcement. Slavery might have been abolished and equal rights legislation may have been passed, but it’s not so easy to abolish ideas that have been inherent in successive generations.

Conversely, the black diaspora is responsible for many of its own shortcomings. Though while not seeking to diminish this charge, these failings can be traced back to slavery in illustrating just how far its impact has spread since it was abolished.

Look at other immigrant groups and you’ll often notice they’re playing the long game. They’re happy to live in less than modest and often overcrowded accommodation for years while saving money for a better property and better opportunities for their future and that of their families. The long term thinking amongst these communities is what expedites their rapid social mobility. Meanwhile, black communities fail to experience the same trajectory or least with the same swiftness. Why? A warped mindset of short term thinking that has been engendered since slavery. It’s seemingly become inherent and frustratingly difficult to eradicate but it’s a flawed approach that we desperately need to address.

For the black slave, there was no need for long term thinking. Your life was a disposable commodity in the hands of a slave owner who viewed it as such. Alas, for many black people, the same mindset has seemingly continued.

It’s easy to say slavery has no bearing on this being the case today. But consider the nonchalance towards black lives held by the slave owner. In principle, is it much different to the nonchalance shown towards black lives now? The only difference is today, the ‘slave’ almost buys into those sentiments more than the ‘slave owner’ themselves to the extent that the slave owner needn’t push their agenda any longer as the slave will do that for him.

Similarly, governments have replaced slave owners with the undue power and influence some of the black community perceive them to have in being responsible for the direction of their lives. This is instead of acknowledging that there is more they can do for themselves that governments cannot interfere with. In turn, this has created a blame culture against legislatures and society. Sections of the diaspora are still unmotivated past the post slavery mentality when our fate was at the whim of the slave owner. Perhaps we were slaves for so long that we don’t know how to be free and how to grasp our freedom? Instead, we credit our failures to the nearest entity we can identify in the form of a slave owner rather than taking responsibility for the freedom that we now actually have.

The collective mental health of the black diaspora is arguably the most significant legacy of slavery. Centuries of being dehumanised and perceiving ourselves as inferior has permeated the black psyche. Our self esteem is incredibly damaged as we continue to perpetuate the notion of being secondary and almost actively allowing ourselves to be marginalised because for so long it was the status quo.

We struggle to value ourselves with our true worth because we have been programmed not to do so and others have been programmed to foist that notion onto us. Subconsciously, many black people equate being black to being negative to the extent that there’s a demand for skin bleaching products in a number of regions.

Vybz Kartel, once one of bashment’s biggest stars, launched his own range of ‘skin brightening’ products and presumably in pursuit of a caucasian look (which most opine went badly wrong), Lil’ Kim has transformed herself from a pin-up when she released her debut album Hardcore to a light-skinned barbie doll that didn’t meet quality control at the factory. And Beyonce, arguably one of the biggest celebrities period, has long been accused of appearing lighter. Are we literally trying to wash away our blackness? It shows how much undoing of centuries of damage to our self esteem is still required.

Psychologically, slavery has damaged the black psyche to so great an extent that we’re yet to wholly escape the conditioning it has seared into our identity. And we’ve failed to acknowledge and accordingly address the impact this has on us today.

It’s important to emphasise that slavery, a system that was abolished over a century ago, cannot be deemed a comprehensive excuse for any failings of a black person or indeed the wider black community. Yet it must be acknowledged as offering an explanation for the shadow of slavery continuing to pervade the black people today.

Other communities have seen persecution via colonialism and periods of brutality such as the experience of the Jewish Diaspora during the Holocaust. Though no group has seen such sustained physical abuse, psychological abuse and dehumanising as the black diaspora experienced throughout slavery and later periods of history. Furthermore, no group continues to be hindered by their experiences to the extent that can be seen in black communities worldwide.

Like a hat that has been worn for so long that even when removed it’s still felt to be on, the shackles once worn by black slaves during slavery may have been removed yet psychologically and socially they continue to be felt. After a while, the sensation of wearing the hat completely wears off but somehow the same can’t be said for slavery and the residual conditioning it has had on black people that can be traced back hundreds of years. However, we can’t overly lament or pontificate about it any longer unless we’re willing to take a meaningful approach to addressing it. Because if we don’t, no one else will and we’ll have wasted the freedom that black slaves would have once deemed unimaginable.

Muhammad Ali wasn't just the greatest boxer, he was one of the greatest period

There’s been an outpouring of tributes following Muhammad Ali’s passing. As a sporting icon and a figure from popular culture, this isn’t uncommon. Yet Ali was a boxer, an athlete from a sport that has been equally celebrated and lambasted for its gladiatorial nature. A sport that is unashamedly the hurt business and ignorantly deemed an arena where the fighters are too stupid to realise that they endure pain for our enjoyment. A sport that has seen its biggest stars elevated to the dizzy heights of success only to unceremoniously be brought crashing down when they’re superfluous to requirements and no longer a cash cow for the money men of the sport (who’ve never laced up a pair of gloves let alone thrown a punch themselves). Yes, he was a boxer, but the above didn’t apply to him; he was special. He transcended boxing, sport and even popular culture. He was the greatest but without the hyperbole that such labels often attract. Therefore it’s little wonder his death has been met with a response that is befitting of a legend.

As a boxing fan there’s a lot that could be said of Ali’s ability in the ring but little that hasn’t already been said by others. Indeed, when encouraged by fellow fight fan and Muhammad Ali admirer @davidcdennis to pen this post, this was my concern. Ali’s footwork, hand speed, movement and athleticism remain second to none. His heart, mettle and conditioning in soaking up punches from an incredibly ferocious puncher in George Foreman (who most modern fighters would have ducked in fear of his punching power for the duration of their careers) to claim the W against all odds, spoke volumes of his character in the ring. Moreover, it served as a reflection of his tenacity as a man outside of it. Despite me regularly and repeatedly revisiting Ali’s fights online or reading fight reports as if he fought at the previous weekend rather than decades ago, his boxing prowess isn’t what he stands out for either. Instead, it’s what he represented which is what his legacy is undoubtedly driven by. It’s also why he’s honoured by so many who may never have even seen any of his fights.

Ali represented the struggle of the black diaspora but also Muslims at a time when both minority groups struggled to achieve respect and acceptance in America (arguably they still do). Although this wasn’t from a position of pity for Ali didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. Even as Parkinson's amplified the juxtaposition between Ali in his later years with the demeanour we once saw of a young, outspoken, athletic man, he always rejected any pathos others may have tried to inject into his story.

Ali was the architect of swagger, slick oration, charisma and sublime intelligence that wasn’t seen in a black boxer let alone a sportsman period. And certainly not on the platform that he occupied. No interviewer could bamboozle him if they tried and he could articulate his argument with a flair and authority that would leave his audience in awe even if not in agreement. In an era where the boxing writing and broadcasting community was dominated by white, middle class men, many of whom would have looked down on a black, southern fighter, Ali turned the equilibrium of their interaction on its head. He was the smartest and most eloquent in any room and during interviews not only did he know it but he exuded it. Though there was something that tempered his confidence in not crossing the fine line into the realm of unpleasant arrogance.

As an instant black icon, Ali gave the diaspora pride and credibility. He was one of the prominent voices of black, Muslim and social consciousness in an era where it meant so much and was so needed. He knew he was a handsome black man and made sure to share it. In doing so, he unashamedly celebrated the black image. This was at a time when subconscious self-loathing was widespread amongst black people as a result of enduring racism and the shadow of slavery and latterly segregation. Ali ignored the memo of the day that being black was to be dirty and inferior and replaced it with his own narrative that black was beautiful; a narrative that has been central to the ongoing healing of the black diaspora. Ali undoubtedly inspired a generation of youth and countered the racism that was rife during his peak via his very being.

The integrity of Ali was unparalleled. He refused to evade conscription during the Vietnam war but even more vociferously refused to go to war. As a Muslim, he cited he was a conscientious objector which was rejected. Nonetheless, he represented a reminder of Islam as a compassionate religion and he continued to do so throughout his life. Again, Ali’s identity was in contention with his time but he was unapologetic for it. Similarly, against a backdrop of inequality and prejudice in America, Ali’s logic in support of his opposition was “I ain’t got no quarrel with those Vietcong.” And he was right as they didn't have a quarrel with a black, Muslim man either; he could find that without leaving America. While some saw it as unpatriotic at the time, history has judged his opposition more favourably. His actions, which cost him three years of his career with inactivity when his boxing licence was revoked, showed the principled stance that was lost on so many Americans at the time. As a social commentator, Ali was also equally earnest and forthright which compounded his influence in his generation and beyond.

Subsequent to his boxing career, Ali’s humanitarian work and compassion came to the fore. Despite being a quality that might appear to create a dichotomy with boxing, the latter was even apparent during his career and Ali rarely had real venom for his opponents. But more fool those those who thought that would detract from his performance in a fight. There was a contrast between the persona of the brash boxer and the compassionate humanitarian, qualities that weren't mutually exclusive for Ali.

Muhammad Ali might be remembered as the greatest ever boxer. But his true legacy is of being one of the greatest period.

Alicia Keys’ and the no makeup movement

Alicia Keys’ recent essay on Lenny provides a narrative that is surely familiar to most women. It articulates the struggle and pressures of being a woman in feeling the need to meet accepted and expected images of beauty that conform to traditional notions of being a woman. In a brave move that should be praised, Keys’ decision to shun this in rejecting the need to constantly wear makeup equally opposes and challenges the social anxieties it presents for many women. Indeed, her attempt to spread a #NoMakeup movement is arguably inspiring many women but it’s the tip of the iceberg when considering the notions of beauty and femininity that women have long been subject to.

As a man, much of the the experience outlined by Alicia Keys, and shared with many women, is admittedly alien to me. Although as an aside, men are increasingly subject to further social pressures in body image and perceptions of masculinity. This is prompting many men to take dangerous steps to meet these perceptions which are rapidly damaging men’s mental and physical health at perilous levels. Sadly, as a relatively new phenomenon, these aren’t widely recognised. Nevertheless, for women this is something that has existed as far back as patriarchal stereotypes can be traced throughout history.

Personally, I like to look good as much as the next person does. But the driver for that stems from my personal contentment and less so from the perception of others. During the winter months, I often grow my hair into a sometimes untamed but periodically shaped afro and shave less frequently than usual. There are occasions that I probably look at least a tad unkempt but on the whole, I don’t care and broadly speaking I’m not judged for it. It’s something I embrace with a nonchalance that is born out of incremental improvements to my own self-esteem and mental health whereby I feel more comfortable with myself, my actions and my appearance than I might once have been. Though for women, this represents a challenge that involves undoing centuries of expected conformity in one's appearance and indeed traditional notions of femininity which are increasingly foisted in the face of women.

Social media has provided a further and damaging projection of what many women feel they need to meet with Instagram posts displaying what is brushed off as casual and effortless perfection of women. Subjects such as the Kardashians are photographed leaving the gym, looking as if they’re yet to break a sweat with not a hair out of place. Because that’s exactly how we all look after a workout, right? Then there are the voyeuristic photos (often posted under the guise of something that seems more principled than the superficial notion of merely getting your attention) that get posted to an audience of young women who naively seek to attain an image that’s manufactured by those who devote their lives to maintaining a plastic, paparazzi-ready facade.

Makeup, hair, clothes, shoes and conforming to expectations of ideal body image present a rigmarole that women have to contend with on a daily basis. And rarely does society suggest it’s acceptable to dispense with any of the aforementioned. For younger women and girls especially, the message is damaging - if you don’t look like this, you’re slacking as a woman. It comes from the media but also wider society and even some men who fail to accept women with a natural demeanour that ignores the above. Similarly and lamentably, and in a further example of gender roles being dangerously reinforced, some women will admit to feeling naked or exposed without wearing makeup as it provides a shield that they literally feel unable to leave home without.

In a brilliantly honest but hilarious social critique of the expectations of beauty placed upon women, one of YouTuber Jenna Marbles’ early videos highlights the extent to which women go in their daily routines. It’s frighteningly accurate for many women and her satirical commentary provides the subconscious narrative for what many women feel compelled to do on a daily basis. Nonetheless, there isn’t anything wrong with wearing makeup. But there is a troubling issue with the extent to which it becomes a decision based on social conditioning and pressures and less about a personal choice, not to mention the effect it has on female mental health.

I’m in no way criticising women who wear makeup or makeup per se. It can enhance, accentuate or refine features and conceal what might personally be deemed a minor imperfection. And most importantly, it can provide a source of confidence that should never be rejected. No different to how I might get a haircut or have a shave when attending an event, makeup can be part of the effort women make to feel good about themselves. After all, we should all do what makes us comfortable and supports our self-esteem and no one should feel the need to apologise for doing so. However, that shouldn't be confused with attempting to meet a gauge of beauty that isn’t our own.

As a celebrity, Alicia Keys is able to use her status as a vehicle for the #NoMakeup movement but her essay also shows the emotional growth she’s undergone to arrive at a point where she is able to embrace her new stance. Furthermore, let’s not pretend that even without makeup, Alicia Keys hardly falls short of the accepted notion of beauty. It’s just a more natural, and some might say less refined, version of what we’re accustomed to seeing. It’s also worth noting that Alicia Keys is an artist who has a huge talent that doesn’t require compensation based on her looks and therefore has further attributes upon which to pin her own self-confidence. Although this shouldn’t detract from the stance that she and many other women have taken in rejecting these social pressures.

It’s questionable if women have been so long subject to these expectations that the status quo can never be overturned. A natural look can be met with raised (and sometimes unnaturally shaped) eyebrows as if to suggest “didn’t you get the memo? We don’t do that as women” which is a sad reality. Many women even experience discomfort in showing themselves without makeup to their partner, family or friends let alone to strangers.

I’m sure #NoMakeup will get some welcome traction on social media. It’ll also likely result in many #NoMakeup selfies celebrating the rejection of having to constantly wear makeup out of obligation rather than choice which is the crux of the argument. More significantly, hopefully it can provide the seed for the wider debate on the social conditioning woman are subject to and the damaging impact it has on successive generations of females.

Are ethnic minority Tories a paradox or a representation of progress within the Conservative party?

When most people think of British politicians and the British political class, they think of white, middle-aged, middle-class men with a stronghold of support from Middle England. And broadly speaking, they’d be right. Although within contemporary history, there has been a shift and albeit limitedly, progress has been made in bringing further diversity to politics. Women have become a feature of British politics with a female former British Prime Minister in Margaret Thatcher and a female First Minister of Scotland in Nicola Sturgeon. In 1997 when Labour were elected to power, 101 of their MPs were female which prompted the Daily Mail to coin the somewhat misogynistic label of ‘Blair’s Babes’.

For ethnic minority politicians in the UK, their increase has been less prolific but still visible. Where ethnic minority politicians have been most noticeable has been within the Labour Party, which is hardly surprising given their track record on promoting and legislating equality for all minority groups. That’s in contrast with the Conservative Party’s historically hostile reception towards immigrants and its resistance to equality for any minority group other than the ‘1%’ who comprise many within the party and bankroll them. As a result, and unsurprisingly, minorities have typically aligned themselves with the Labour Party or the left.

Firstly, let’s not pretend that the Labour Party and the broader left is, or always has been, void of prejudice or always promoted equality. The female sewing machinists at Ford’s Dagenham plant were initially not supported by their trade union in their 1968 strike for equal pay. Furthermore, while Labour and the trade unions have a long and proud history of supporting ethnic minorities, many post-war immigrants were met with hostility by many within the trade union movement. Factions echoing the irrational and unfounded fears of some of their members claimed that immigrants were taking the jobs of the indigenous white British. This was despite an acute labour shortage following the war. Such undertones could also be be felt within the Labour Party at a time when broader British society and politics was arguably subject to much institutional racism.

Nevertheless, it was Barbara Castle, a Labour MP and the then Secretary of State for Employment, who intervened in the the Ford machinists’ strike and a Labour government that was responsible for the Equal Pay Act 1970 that the strike action helped to bring about. It was also a Labour government that was responsible for the Race Relations Act 1965 which many Labour backbenchers actually argued didn’t go far enough. Indeed, while it hasn’t been without blemish, the Labour Party and the left has a long and celebrated history of promoting equality for all minorities, which can’t be said for the Conservative Party. Even as recently as 2013, the Conservative Party was split over same-sex marriage with 136 voting against it while only 127 were in favour. Historically, equality hasn’t really been their forte.

During the 1964 general election campaign, Conservative parliamentary candidate Peter Griffiths used the slogan “If you want a nigger for a neighbour, vote Labour.” He was subsequently elected. In 1968, Conservative MP Enoch Powell gave his infamous and inflammatory Rivers of Blood speech, harshly criticising immigration from the Commonwealth and race relations legislation. Despite not openly to the extent of Powell’s utterances, the Conservative Party retained undertones of prejudice that merely fanned rather than quelled the flames of institutional racism within British society at the time.

Conservative MP Oliver Letwin’s remarks and attitudes on the black community, recently released in a 1985 memo discussing the Broadwater Farm riots in Tottenham, show that racism within the Conservative Party was enduring. The lack of proportionate censure from today’s Conservative Party suggest that such comments might not go amiss now either, an assertion that Zac Goldsmith’s casual Islamophobia and dog whistling in his smear campaign against Sadiq Khan actually supports. And juxtaposed with the recent suspensions of Ken Livingstone and Naz Shah from the Labour Party, which David Cameron also called for, where was David Cameron’s reproach for Boris Johnson's racist and colonialist rhetoric on Barack Obama or much of Zac Goldsmith’s Islamophobic and divisive mayoral campaign?

The modern Conservative Party has sought to lose the tag of ‘the nasty party’ and reject the racist elements of its history. It can also boast a number of ethnic minority MPs such as frontbenchers Sajid Javid, Priti Patel and and Sam Gyimah. The Tories have undoubtedly progressed from the days when even an ethnic minority backbencher would be unthinkable and that should be lauded regardless of one’s political persuasion.

It’s also important to emphasise that not all Tories, regardless of ethnicity, are racist. Many are committed to equality and positive race relations even if their party’s history may suggest otherwise. Nonetheless, for many ethnic minorities, including me, the party’s still-raw history of racism towards our immigrant grandparents and parents and those of us that were born in the UK, along with its poor track record on race relations and equality in general, make it difficult to support them as a party. After all, some of those sentiments are apparent in today’s Conservative Party. Yet oddly, this isn’t the perception amongst all ethnic minorities.

For many immigrants, there is an experience and a narrative of arriving in a new country with very little but a can-do attitude and working hard to make a better life for yourself and your family. That narrative is fulfilled to varying extents but there are many diaspora communities who have shown admirable and impressive graft and business acumen that has resulted in successive generations steadily climbing the often greasy pole of social mobility.

Ugandan Indians refugees arriving in the UK

Take the Gujarati community, many of whom were forced to leave East Africa to rebuild their lives in Britain. Many become proprietors of newsagents and convenience stores in the UK, working long hours with a stakhanovite work ethic while family would often comprise their staff. Though subsequent generations have moved away from small business retailers and into roles such as finance, medicine and dentistry. They aren’t the only ethnic minority group with a similarly story either. Regardless of race, it’s the very narrative that is celebrated and encouraged by the Conservative Party - work hard, create jobs, don’t rely on the state and you’ll be successful.

Many second and third generation ethnic minorities from immigrant families share less of the experiences of the generations before them. Racism is less overt than it once was and class has superseded race as a social determinant of how we identify ourselves and with whom we identify with. Take a British doctor of Gujarati descent. His parents may have faced racism upon coming to Britain in the 1960s where they may have worked in an unskilled sector. As working class ethnic minorities, they would have been typical Labour supporters. Whereas his experiences are acutely different to that of his parents with less required graft and subtle and less barriers to social mobility, he will likely see himself as middle class with a life that is more aligned to the Tories.

Capitalism and social mobility often has a way of making an ethnic minority metaphorically lighten the hue of their skin tone in how they perceive themselves. That’s reflected in how they might vote too. I’ve seen ethnic minorities deem a decent job and a good socio-economic status to equate to needing to vote Conservative because it’s who they feel the type of person they now identify with should vote. They no longer feel aligned to the tales of the parents but instead that of Middle England and the political class. Perhaps such perception is valid. After all, I can’t dictate how someone identifies themselves. What I can be sure of, is that Middle England certainly don’t identify with them and they’re barking up the wrong tree if they think differently. No amount of money and well-spoken delivery will change that either.

Ignorance too has played a role in the growth of ethnic minority support for the Tories. During the previous general election campaign, a middle class Asian female Tory voter that I know foolishly claimed that they were voting Conservative because “Labour had ruined the economy” and proceeded to attribute the global financial crisis to Labour. Was that the same Labour Party that hadn’t been in power for five whole years? The Conservative Party’s ploy of blaming everything under the sun on the previous Labour government must have had some effect as some voters were clearly stupid enough to recycle the same trite argument for the coalition government’s failures. Said individual also works in finance which compounds her ignorance. Even sadder is that as a woman and an ethnic minority, she would have personally benefited throughout her life from legislation introduced under previous Labour governments.

It’s lamentable that some ethnic minorities have such short memories when it comes to the Conservative Party, their values and how they treated our grandparents and parents when they arrived in the UK. A generation later and with a bit of money and a decent job, some ethnic minorities are voting Conservative but can’t even articulate why other than an underlying belief that Conservative policies might make them a bit more cash while trodding on the less fortunate in society - the same people their parents may once have been only a few generations ago.

The Conservative Party might be deemed the party of business and enterprise which ties into the immigrant narrative for many. But we need to ask ourselves, are they the party of ethnic minorities? Alas, while those features needn’t and shouldn't be mutually exclusive, for some factions within the Conservative Party they probably are and would-be ethnic minority Conservative voters need to remember that.

I need to emphasis that I’m not suggesting ethnic minorities can’t or shouldn’t vote for the Conservatives if that’s where their values lie. Democracy affords us the opportunity to support and vote for whoever we desire and that can’t ever be criticised or restricted. Moreover, it isn’t right to hold today’s Tories to the ills of their history and it would be unfair to imply that as a party they haven’t made any progress in representing the ethnic minority electorate. Though we need to ask ourselves how far and how meaningful that progress has been. We also need to consider how representative ethnic minority Tory MPs are of the broader ethnic minority experience and the party’s failure to robustly tackle the institutionally racism that is still present in today’s Conservative Party. Consequently, while ethnic minority Tory voters represent some progress for the party, there is still something quite paradoxical about them. Fortunately for the Conservative Party, they don’t seem to see it for themselves.

Should a woman have to change her surname once married?

As a man, there’s little that I anticipate changing in my identity throughout my life. Regardless of my marital status, my title will remain as ‘Mr’ and my surname will remain unchanged (unless I choose to change it by deed poll). Although, for women, both identifiers are typically subject to change for those who subscribe to the tradition of doing so once married.

For some women, not changing their surname once married is unthinkable given their connection, willing or otherwise, to tradition or indeed their respective culture. On the other hand, there are an increasing number of women who retain their maiden name and not doing so is non-negotiable. But the majority of married women do decide to change their surname almost as a matter of course. Moreover, some women even relish changing their surname as a hollow (and foolish) badge of ‘success’ in being married.

The issue of a woman changing her surname is a relevant one for me as my partner falls into the group of women who feel an unease with the social expectation of adopting their partner’s surname once married. And initially, I was in agreement with her. In fact, I probably articulated my opposition to her changing her surname to mine more than she did.

It's tradition within my partner’s culture that when a child is born their middle name is that of their father’s first name. For example, if their father’s name is Joe Bloggs, their full name is X Joe Bloggs. For women though, that changes once they’re married when their middle name (being their father’s first name) is replaced with their husband’s first name. And as with western culture, their surname is also replaced so that it’s shared with their husband. Given the historical context of marriage and gender relations within my partner’s culture, I perceived this as hugely patriarchal.

While some may argue this is reading too much into a tradition, it can be perceived that where a woman (once ‘owned’ and labelled with the name of her father) is married, her ‘ownership’ is transferred from her father to her new husband. She consequently becomes the property of, and is accordingly labelled with the name of, her husband.

Conversely, it has to be recognised that there is an aspect of the tradition reflecting the woman being welcomed into and embraced by her husband’s family by assuming his surname. Although, with my awareness of my partner’s culture and its often still antiquated and misogynistic perception of women, it didn’t sit well with me. Hence I was nonchalant when it came to the idea of her taking my surname once married.

However, my stance eventually had a fairly sharp change. When my partner was questioned by a relative of hers who asked if she’d change her surname when married, her response was a firm “no”. She elaborated on this by explaining that she was “a [her current surname] and not a [my surname]” and her identity was that of a [her surname]. She also returned with her own question of “why should a woman have to change her surname when a man doesn’t?”. On the latter, I agreed with her. Yet on the former, my stance on the matter went from indifference to a burgeoning feeling of rejection toward the idea of a shared identity via my surname. I didn’t perceive it as a rejection of my family per se, but a rejection of the notion of establishing a unit with me that would, by default, share my surname.

As we spoke about this further, she explained that particularly in an interracial relationship, preserving her cultural identify both for herself and within our relationship, was hugely important. To lose her surname, which bears cultural significance for her, would be to relinquish some of that identity and she felt it was important that her surname reflected who she was. And in spite of any resentment I held toward her stance, I had to acknowledge that she made a valid point with regard to her identity; one that as a man I could not fully empathise with. Being a man, my surname, and the reflection of my identity within it, would remain intact in marriage. Furthermore, tradition and society suggests that any assumption of culture and identity in marriage would by default be her assuming mine. While it wasn’t by my design, the status quo was certainly in my favour for who would need to make any cultural compromises.

From my androcentric perspective, I argued that her culture was already visible within our relationship as both of us valued and immersed ourselves in our own and each other’s culture. I also felt that as I had integrated myself into her family to an extent that no claim could be made of me stifling or even diluting her culture within our relationship. But regardless of this, her most personal identifier, her name, wouldn’t reflect that and this was an experience that I would never be able to fully appreciate.

So should women have to change their surnames once married? It’s a tradition within marriage that has broadly endured along with women receiving a diamond engagement ring to signal their impending marriage. The latter isn’t rejected by many women – but it isn’t one that reflects their identity or lack of. The undertones of patriarchy behind women changing their surnames is also undeniable. Society preserves this in many relationships where a woman assuming her husband’s surname is merely a subtle indicator of the subservience and unequal status she may be subject to.

For a woman to change her surname can be a relinquishing of her identity and the trappings of said identity such as her culture or apparent ties to her family and community. Being known as Miss or Ms X, particularly in a professional context, and to suddenly be known as Ms or Mrs Y is also a shift of varying degrees depending on the change in surname. Nor is it a change men are subject to. Despite her rationale, it further explains the indignation of my partner on the matter.

In a modern context, the tradition of a woman taking her husband’s surname as her own needn’t be seen as patriarchal. Rather, it can be seen as the husband welcoming her to his family. Or, as I see it, creating a new entity comprising the couple that share a surname as their shared identity. Many would counter that by saying why not instead take the woman’s surname, a double-barrelled surname comprising both those of the man and woman or even a completely new name? To that, I can only offer the illogicality of tradition as explanation.

Despite my jesting with her, I have returned to my earlier nonchalance on my partner changing her surname. I continue to acknowledge the patriarchal roots of the tradition and how unwittingly or otherwise, these have undoubtedly been used as a vehicle for misogyny throughout the ages. In addition, the relinquishing and dilution of identify in changing one’s surname is one that I can appreciate if not fully empathise with as a man. Where a surname has cultural significance, the loss of identity is even more prevalent when the new surname erodes that. This therefore has further connotations that probably can’t be appreciated when changing a Greene for a Brown or a Clarke for a Jones compared to changing a Yeboah or an Ibrahim for a Williams or an Edwards. As a result, it’s arguably more of an issue for some women than others.

There is an unfairness that must be admitted in the status quo where society has not only expected women to change their surnames but social conditioning has also made it a default position. Though regardless of one’s stance on the matter, there should be a social and cultural debate on the validity and fairness of such an enduring tradition.

The measure of success

One of my closest friends was recently promoted to a senior position at his job. I can certainly attest to his stakhanovite work ethic and commitment that propelled him to his new post. Nevertheless, he recalled how not working in a white collar industry, which may have been deemed a natural progression following his undergraduate degree, wasn’t always perceived with universal favour by those around him. Nonetheless, working within his field he found himself in an industry where he was able to apply himself and help and motivate others around him. Furthermore, enjoying a job he’s also good at, he eventually realised he’d found his niche and he holds no regard for the views of those who felt his choice of employment didn’t conform to their ideal of a successful career. Not to mention, his career ascent has undoubtedly justified his decision and refuted that of others. It’s a testament to his conviction in his own pursuit of happiness that hasn’t been side-tracked by the views of others.

For most, that disregard of society’s validation of their success does not come easy. On the contrary, they spend their lives chasing it and it characterises their decisions and their life’s direction. Often, that has consequences of suppressed unhappiness and discontent for many as they seek acceptance and endorsement based on society’s principles rather than their own. However, given our perception of our achievements should be subjective, how and why have so many people been driven to gauge this against society’s measure rather than their own?

Similarly to many of my peers, I was the first within my family to attend university. We typically read traditionally academic subjects and our families were undoubtedly proud of us achieving a milestone that hadn’t been achieved in generations before us. That pride inadvertently soon became pressure. And as we neared graduation, we felt our next logical step was a job within a field that seemingly complemented our higher education and what our families and society anticipated. What we didn’t appreciate, and weren’t afforded the perspective of, was what would bring us fulfilment and job satisfaction. The consideration of going into a field where our work would be meaningful and enjoyable was ashamedly secondary to what might be a job that ticked superficial boxes of success. This view of success was typically manifested by the white collar, corporate image which years later I realised in no way guaranteed fulfilment and for some, actual misery.

Sadly, the impact of society’s measure of success upon us is even more prevalent in the most personal aspects of our lives. We feel the need to adhere to society’s modus operandi. And should we not conform to that, we’re left feeling a failure. In a previous post, I wrote about the Asian pursuit of marriage and the feeling of being compelled to find a partner particularly once one has hit a certain age. Of course, this isn’t exclusive to Asians and many cultures and individuals feel that marriage is an indicator of one’s personal success. But marriage isn’t a prerequisite for one to feel complete as an individual and it should be a personal choice. Yet society has managed to infiltrate that choice for many. Years ago at her younger brother’s wedding, my own partner was told by an older family friend that “it didn’t look good” and was “embarrassing” that her brother was now married but she was still unmarried. Clearly her family ‘friend’ is incredibly ignorant but he’s a vessel of society’s judgement that is placed upon us.

I’ve seen peers who have thrown themselves into so-called relationships with the first person that comes along because they’ve hit or are approaching 30 and they feel marriage is the making of a person. Furthermore, they remain in denial of their so-called relationship being contrived and prefiguring failure before it’s even started. Instead, it’s fast tracked to a speedy engagement because it’s what others around them seem to be doing and they feel compelled to follow suit in seeking a hollow notion of cultural achievement. Similarly, women are made to feel that a lack of maternal instinct portrays them as an incomplete woman (although I recently read a selection of brilliant and valid ripostes to that from a number of women in the public eye). It’s a sad and unfair reality that we’re able to be made to feel a failure or incomplete by an objective gauge that’s foisted upon us by society.

The impact of this on mental health is astounding though seemingly ignored. We are effectively determining how we feel about ourselves based on an indicator that isn’t even our own. And the extent to how damaging this is can have reach fatal consequences.

In an age where we are preoccupied with our perception by others, the barometer of success is perpetuated. Social media provides a looking glass through which we are judged not by our own criteria but that of ‘friends’ and ‘followers’ who too are subject to the ideals society has foisted upon them. Social media has provided another tool by which we project the aspirations and lives of others as a vehicle for our own alleged success that often isn’t attained. Internally, we may therefore feel empty and despondent at not fulfilling what we have been wired to accept as the standards we are expected to achieve.

South Korea has one of the highest rates of suicide in the world. It’s a society where personal and family honour is held high. Many suicides in South Korea are therefore often attributed to the respective individuals perceiving themselves as failures and bringing shame upon themselves or their families in the process. The aforementioned are common themes for suicide anywhere. Though as a society, we’ve become so driven by superficial measures of success that in some instances it can drive people to take their own lives.

To feel a failure according to notions set by others surely isn’t right. Alas, it’s become the status quo that has forced many people to struggle with in validating their own lives to themselves let alone society.

So many of us have become conditioned to compare our achievements and happiness by standards dictated by society rather than ourselves. It’s a culture built upon propagating a message that serves to endorse the choices and lives of others with diminishing regard for ourselves. Cultures and societies are built upon these principles but they are crippling the self-esteem and realisation of self-worth amongst so many. Indeed, it’s a sad truth that in many cases, our respective successes are built upon little more than perpetual and damaging lies to ourselves and those around us.

Happiness and success, and the path to which they are sought, should be subjective. But instead they are determined by the expectations of others that are merely projections of what society has deemed valid. It can take great conviction to pursue a course that goes against the status quo of society. Although as my friend can attest, when it is, it’s the measure of success that we should all aim to pursue.

Straight? Gay? I don't care

Despite progressive views on sexuality, the issue of homosexuality has remained a preoccupation for some as a taboo status. Indeed, that fixation has been anything but subtle for those it applies to. This is compounded by an apparent obsession within the media with gay celebrities’ decisions to publically reveal or conceal their sexuality. Indeed, if a high profile celebrity announces that they’re gay, it’s inevitable that it’ll make headlines.

When British diver Tom Daley announced he was gay it rapidly made headlines. There wasn’t anything particularly shocking about his revelation but it somehow managed to dominate British media in disproportionate measures. Yet even Daley later said of his announcement ‘I don’t think it should be news’, a view I share with him. Though the fact that it is, suggests that homosexuality is perhaps still considered more of a taboo than many would like to admit. Based on those who crave such stories, it could be said that the pendulum of views on homosexuality has swung from being swept under the carpet to becoming headline news.

Clearly any trend that moves away from homosexuality being deemed taboo lessens the prevalence of homophobic views. Although by giving the story of someone ‘coming out’ undue shock value, it only serves to add hype around the issue of one’s sexual orientation. This hardly encourages an attitude where upon hearing of someone being gay, people are inclined to keep it moving rather than making much ado about nothing. Nonetheless, not only can I not see why it justifies such fanfare, but why does anyone’s sexual orientation matter to the next person? Unintentionally, such hype also increases the fixation with homosexuality for those who feel it’s wrong – and who will consequently show homosexuals disdain.

In the first instance, one’s sexuality should be personal and shared by inference or a need to know basis. Consequently, someone else’s sexual orientation is something I remain indifferent to. As a heterosexual man, what bearing does someone being gay have on me and vice versa? Unless of course it’s my own partner in question, I don’t see how it does. On the other hand, for those that wouldn’t share my indifference, where does their unjustified interest stem from?

Views on sexuality and sexual orientation are often rooted in culture, religion and communities and the extent to how conservative or liberal they are. Growing up, I can admit to having held ignorant and homophobic views that were reflected amongst my peers too. But as homosexuality was deemed taboo and not held in too high esteem amongst many around me, my stance wasn’t out of step with many around me. Though with maturity, I recognised my ignorance and prejudice. Furthermore, I realised that not only did I not have a reference point of anyone openly homosexual to base this view on, but even if I did it would make no difference to my own life. Therefore with a mature perspective, I don’t understand why some people and groups are so obsessed with it.

Some would argue that moves to remove the stigma and taboo of homosexuality attack cultural, social and religious values that espouse disapproval of homosexuality. Their response would be that they’re protecting their values, such as the opposition to gay marriage from various religious groups. I can understand they may want to preserve their own beliefs, no matter how the secular world may view them as being archaic, and they're entitled to do that. However, that needn't and shouldn't accompany any vitriol towards those who represent a different sexual orientation than that which they deem valid. Herein lies the issue where beliefs can become so forthright that they instead take the form of prejudice. It's an unnecessary stance but one which unwittingly fans the flames of sensationalising ones sexuality.

Doing otherwise isn’t a case of being pro or anti-homosexual or rejecting what one might deem a component of their values. Instead it’s simply being accepting and indifferent of people’s differences and leaving it at that.

There's also the other side of those that make a bigger issue of their sexuality which is similarly unnecessary. Apple CEO, Tim Cook, recently came out as being homosexual and announced he was ‘proud to be gay’ in an article he wrote in Bloomberg Businessweek.

I can appreciate that Tim Cook’s statement was more to do with illustrating that he wasn't ashamed to be homosexual and providing inspiration for those that may be gay and reluctant to embrace and accept their sexuality (and those who might be prejudiced towards them). But 'proud'? What exactly is he proud of? I'm not proud to be heterosexual, it's just a fact no different to the fact that Tim Cook is gay.

Some may feel an indifference to sexual orientation is tantamount to pitting themselves against their own. Conversely, those who make an issue of their sexual orientation are needlessly distinguishing themselves from others and slowing down the attainment of equality. One’s sexual orientation is a fact not a talking point. Making it the latter simply gives it unwarranted and necessary focus in an era where it should be an aberration for that to be the case.

The unlikely taboo of interracial relationships

Despite improved race relations and the progress of multiculturalism, for some, one area that should remain sacrosanct to such progression is interracial relationships. Consequently, and as an undeniable feature of modern society, interracial relationships have remained an unlikely taboo for some.

Being in an interracial relationship, I’ve been fortunate to not have experienced tangible resistance from either family and certainly not with any hostility. There have been undertones of cautiousness on both sides but that’s been largely based on ignorance of the other’s culture and how to respond to it. And with my partner’s community being fairly insular, initially, I literally represented the unknown for her family.

With some people, and behind a smokescreen of disingenuousness, we’ve both observed unspoken sentiments of disapproval toward our relationship. It’s a minority view but not one held by individuals who we have any real relationship with or respect for. Nor is it a view that has ever been articulated – which is just as well as said individuals’ opinions are of no value to us. Though admittedly, knowing that you are the source of any disapproval from even the smallest factions of your partner’s family or community is not a pleasant feeling.

Particularly if any opposition stems more from your partner’s side than yours, it’s easy to see yourself as the indirect source of any potential anguish for them or the reason for them needing to become more resolute in their convictions. It can also lead to a feeling of helplessness and regret; not of your relationship but of what you feel you represent on some level in causing an issue. Conversely, for the other person, an unwarranted feeling of resentment toward their family and community, and a sense of guilt that they come from a background that exhibits prejudice wrapped in backwards ideals, is an unescapable emotion.

Nonetheless, neither of us will ever lament the fact that we aren’t of the same ethnicity simply because it doesn’t meet blanket approval. Both of us are proud of our respective heritage and nothing will change that or cause us to suppress either culture within the relationship. We embrace each other’s culture which is something both our families appreciate and has arguably mitigated any challenges we may have faced.

Thankfully, we haven’t experienced the problems encountered by some interracial couples. I know of interracial and interreligious couples whose families and wider communities have not been receptive to their relationship whatsoever. For some, that’s meant having to choose between their relationship and their family – with the ultimatum being directly or indirectly made by the latter. In response, some couples have shown great courage that I have the utmost admiration for and they’ve pursued their relationship at the risk of being ostracised by either family. Whereas for some, their family was too great a sacrifice to make. Especially against a backdrop of prejudice from a family, many would argue that pursuing the relationship is the right thing to do in such instances. Although, regardless of the decision, it's undoubtedly an emotionally charged predicament.

Interracial relationships and people of mixed race have become commonplace in modern society and the prejudice they were once met with has certainly receded in recent years. The Melting Pot Generation – How Britain Became More Relaxed About Race, a report published by think tank British Future, also found that in contrast to 50% and 40% of the British public admitting to being opposed to interracial relationships in the 80s and 90s respectively, that figure was 15% in 2012. That’s a huge improvement. But with a population that exceeds 60 million, 15% can’t be discounted as merely a handful of people with archaic attitudes.

The 2001 UK census reported that 2% of all marriages were “inter-ethnic”, a figure that will surely be shown to be growing once the respective data is released for the 2011 census. In the interim, and as a measure of the increasing number of interracial relationships in the UK, the 2011 census data shows that the mixed race population is amongst the fastest growing and forecast to become the largest ethnic minority group in the country. In America, the 2010 census also reported that “interracial or interethnic” cohabiting married couples grew by 28% between 2000 and 2010. With such a trend, how have interracial relationships therefore managed to remain taboo for some?

It may not always be overt, and in many cases is culturally or even generationally institutionalised, but prejudice is what underpins opposition to interracial relationships. Yet many who hold said opinions would probably argue to the contrary. Some would claim that their opposition is based on their perception of the lack of viability of an interracial relationship and a fear of their culture becoming diluted. They’d allege that’s in contrast to a relationship where the couple at least share their heritage if nothing else. Many would also pledge their commitment to multiculturalism, citing their indifference to colleagues, neighbours and even friends of a different background. However, for them, the intimate sphere of a relationship is a line that that indifference cannot and should not cross.

Granted, and potentially coming to the fore in raising children, some interracial couples may experience challenges of different cultural expectations or different cultural values within the relationship. Where applicable, language barriers with each other’s families, not to mention a possible frosty reception to the relationship, can also present problems. Although in a multicultural society, aren’t these problems mitigated by multiculturalism itself? And when taken outside the context of race or indeed religion, aren’t differing views challenges that all couples may be faced with, regardless of their respective backgrounds?

The assertion that interracial relationships signal the end of a culture’s identity is unfounded. Multiculturalism shapes new identities and, as a frequent by-product of interracial relationships, the mixed race population provides a growing ethnic group that with it brings new hybrid identities and cultures. Though that needn’t cause a culture to become extinct. In a diverse society, cultural identities can just as easily become eroded within a couple of the same ethnicity and heritage. Therefore to pin that on interracial couples is a charge that is tinged by ignorance, prejudice and irrational fear.

Beyond their prejudice, those who maintain an opposition to interracial relationships may see it as a gradual attack on their own race, culture and accompanying values and identity. But in maintaining their view, they’re unwittingly or otherwise resisting the virtues of multiculturalism and holding a belief that has little reasoning behind it. Furthermore, ironically, the very values and identities they unnecessarily seek to protect and preserve will likely outlive their own backwards and narrow-minded ideals.

For interracial relationships to remain taboo for some is a sad reality that goes against the grain of a racially diverse society. Fortunately, it is a view that is becoming increasingly rare and typically met with disgust and disdain. Yet despite the progress made in race relations, the prejudice that fuels this opposition hasn’t been completely eroded; until it is, there will always be individuals who simply don’t agree with interracial relationships.