Welcome to Mixed Up, a series looking at the highs, lows and unique experiences of being mixed-race.
Mixed-race is the fastest-growing ethnic group in the UK. It means your parents hail from two (or more) different ethnicities, leaving you somewhere in the middle.
In 2001, when the ‘mixed’ categories were first introduced to the national census, mixed-race people made up 1.3% of the population. Fast-forward 10 years, and that figure almost doubles to 2.3%.
It’s a trajectory that’s unlikely to slow down.
Alongside the unique pleasures and benefits of being exposed to multiple cultures, being mixed comes with complexities, conflicts and innate contradictions.
For many, it’s about occupying two identities simultaneously, reconciling the differences and trying to carve out a space to exist between the two.
The mainstream understanding of being mixed-race most often refers to people who are white and black Caribbean, or white and black African. But the voices of the mixed-race diaspora extend far beyond this.
Mixed Up aims to elevate those voices, look deeper at the nuanced realities of being mixed-race and provide an insight into the inner workings of this rapidly growing ethnic group.
Alexandra Sheppard is an author. She says she didn’t realise how much being mixed-race meant to her until it all started pouring out in her debut novel.
‘The short version is that I’m half Jamaican and half English. The longer version? My Mum’s Jamaican side is also mixed with Chinese, and my Dad’s family also has Irish and Jewish heritage,’ Alex explains to Metro.co.uk.
As with many mixed-race people, Alex’s heritage is far from simple. The clash of cultures, backgrounds and ideologies can be a beautiful thing, but it can also be overwhelming. Alex’s parents wanted to make it as simple for her as possible.
‘My parents raised me and my sisters to view ourselves as black. They didn’t want us to grow up confused, and they figured that the world will sooner view us as black than white.
‘But when I described myself that way, people would often ask what else I was mixed with – I have been asked if I’m mixed with everything from Colombian to Chinese.
‘Now, I see myself as black mixed-race. It just became easier to expand the label I had for myself and reduce the annoying questions.
‘When I was ten, my parents divorced and my mum moved us from North London to Derby. At the time, it was a far less racially diverse city. It was the only time that my blackness was questioned, often by white classmates who couldn’t get their heads around the fact that I was an Avril Lavigne fan and a bookworm – traits that they considered “white”.
‘Looking back now, I’m baffled that they didn’t realise how racist those statements were.’
It’s only with hindsight that Alex is able to truly evaluate some of the problematic encounters she faced as a child. At the time she couldn’t quite place her finger on what she found unsettling.
‘I went to a mostly white secondary school, and the most difficult thing was my white classmates erasing my black heritage,’ Alex explains.
‘They would say things like, “don’t worry, we don’t see you as black.” They meant it as a compliment but it made me feel awful in ways that I’ve only recently learned to verbalise.
‘I wish I had had the language then to challenge their racism and explain why it made me feel so terrible.
‘Some of the white girls at my after-school job would talk excitedly about the mixed-race children they hoped to have, cooing about “olive skin, not too dark” and “ringlet curls.” It was like they were talking about sofa swatches, not actual people, and it annoyed me for reasons I couldn’t explain.
‘As an adult, what I really dislike is being described as “exotic” – nearly always by men. I certainly don’t feel exotic!’
When you’re mixed, there are often elements of your background that are difficult to access. Grandparents can provide a window into worlds you otherwise wouldn’t know much about. Alex’s Jamaican grandparents helped her connect with that side of her heritage.
‘I became more immersed in my Jamaican culture when my mum moved us to Derby. I spent nearly every day at my grandparent’s house surrounded by uncles, aunties and cousins.
‘Grandma and Granddad only ate Jamaican food, and the rest of the family followed suit. Saturday soup, curry goat, rice and peas, fried plantain and hard dough bread were regular fixtures.
‘As much as all of those things feel like home to me, I definitely think I’m more immersed in British culture than Jamaican culture. When I went to Jamaica, some things felt familiar to me – like the accent, food and even certain words in patois. But it doesn’t feel like home, and everyone can tell that I’m not from there
‘I always thought that I identified more with my Mum’s Jamaican family than my Dad’s English family. But after a few trips to the US, I realised how British I was.
‘I missed tea and people saying “sorry” all the time. That said, I have never considered myself English, or even British. I prefer the label Black British.’
For Alex, her grandparents’ history and journeys have shaped the woman she has become. Both sides of that heritage are equally important to her.
‘My grandparents couldn’t be more different. My dad’s parents were white, middle-class artists who divorced after having three children. This made my grandma a single mother – which was practically unheard of in the late 1960s.
‘On my mum’s side, my grandparents are traditional Jamaican immigrants. They both arrived in Derby in their late teens, met in a boarding house for new West Indian arrivals and married within the year. They worked extraordinarily hard to become homeowners and pay off the mortgage on the family home.
‘Both sets of grandparents had to be resilient in their own way. For my dad’s mum, she had to put up with being ostracised in the tiny village they lived in after divorcing her husband. She placed immense importance on creative expression, even if it wouldn’t turn out to be a lucrative career.
‘My Jamaican grandparents didn’t have the luxury of pursuing creative expression. They had to put up with low-paid jobs, the racism of late 1950s Britain and the heartache of leaving their home behind.’
‘My grandad doesn’t talk about it much because he prefers not to dwell on upsetting memories, but my mum has told me enough stories to know that life must have been tough.
‘From my dad’s mum (I never met his dad), I learned to prioritise my creative writing. To her, it was every bit as important as academic subjects.
‘From my mum’s parents, I learned the importance of family – a subject that I love to explore in my writing. Sadly my grandmothers have both passed away. My novel is dedicated to them both.’
Oh My Gods is Alex’s debut Young Adult novel. The young protagonist is mixed-race with a supernatural twist – she is half Jamaican, and half Greek god.
‘The main character is fourteen-year-old Helen Thomas, who has just moved in with her dad’s family in North London. But Helen and her family have a secret – they are gods living incognito. Her dad is Zeus, head of the gods, making Helen half-mortal.’
Alex says there are certainly elements of herself in Helen. She knows how important representation is in literature and wants to play her part in improving diversity in YA books.
‘It was a conscious decision to write a mixed-race protagonist. I think it’s natural to write what you know, so in some ways, my main character aligns quite closely with my identity – Helen is half-Jamaican, lives in North London and has my thick, curly hair.
‘The state of black, mixed-race, and basically anyone who isn’t white, representation in the UK publishing industry leaves a lot to be desired, and it’s so unfair on the young children who are denied the joy of seeing themselves in books. It is changing, but not fast enough.’
There is a tendency to cite the growth of the UK’s mixed-race population as evidence of the country’s shrinking racism. But Alex says this absolutely isn’t the case. It’s much more complicated than that.
‘I want people to understand that mixed-race people don’t symbolise society’s progression. People in interracial relationships aren’t inherently more progressive or open-minded.
‘There’s this ongoing narrative that interracial relationships cure racism, and it’s total nonsense.
‘It’s tempting to believe that an increase in mixed relationships means that we are progressing as a society – but people in mixed-race relationships are perfectly capable of reproducing racism.’
And when it comes to the country as a whole – Alex isn’t sold on the concept that we’re moving forward. How is it possible for a country to move forward without first looking back?
‘Honestly? I don’t feel good about this country’s current position on racism,’ explains Alex.
‘I don’t believe that Britain has ever fully reckoned with its racist past.
‘It’s shocking how little people know about the atrocities of the British Empire – the millions of black and brown lives destroyed, the stolen wealth and this country’s integral role in the transatlantic slave trade.
‘How can we move forward when 59% of Brits think that the British Empire is something to be proud of?
‘I like that younger generations seem more clued-up about politics and race. I’ve had the pleasure of working with teens while promoting my novel, and they are so much more switched on than I was at that age. They keep me hopeful.’
Alex’s debut novel, Oh My Gods, is out now.
Mixed Up is a weekly series focused on telling the stories of mixed-race people. Next week we speak to YouTuber Nadir Nahdi
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