The burden of ‘funny tinge’

Sonoo Singh

A few days ago, a British MP who left the opposition Labour Party to join the newly formed Independent Group — a response to the global era of unease and anger, especially when it comes to politics — walked into a race row live on TV. The MP, Angela Smith, referred to people from Asian and minority ethnic backgrounds as having a “funny tinge.” She has since apologised. And her fellow MPs have all rallied around her because Smith was “probably nervous and exhausted” — giving her free pass to racist views when enervated. And then, of course, the country is divided in their opinions about the IS teenager, Shamima Begum — who left the UK to join the Islamic State in Syria and is now wanting to come back with her newborn baby — but has had her British citizenship revoked. All this in the midst of a ‘no-deal’ Brexit.

I first set foot in this country in March 2000. Five years later, I was granted British citizenship. Almost two decades as an immigrant British, living in the multicultural delight that is London, learning how to moan every single day about the weather, and being adopted and indeed raised by the industry I work in — marketing and advertising industry (that for most parts celebrates difference), I have never experienced conversations around race this confusing or this angry. Yes sure, step outside of London and there sometimes is an awkwardness around it. But I cannot remember a time when I felt this unbearable weight of my “funny tinge.” The colour of my skin. 

It is the same with the awful tale of this young girl Shamima Begum. The same burden — that of being different — unites these two stories. The fear of how those in power can erode our civil liberties, because frankly they are playing with the narrative that some of us dread and others perhaps believe in. The narrative of otherness — a popular reaction to the crisis of capitalism of our times.

And remember that the anti-immigration feeling expressed by the Leave vote was directed at other Europeans. However, what has been reported extensively as well is how hate crime also surged immediately after the EU referendum. The rise of reactionary populism is not just sweeping through Britain, or indeed even the rest of Europe. Trump in the US and Modi in India are manifestations of just that.

But the British, with their sense of irony and humour, pints in grubby pubs, their exaggerated interest in weather, liberal set of values and a deep-rooted sense of individual liberty and mutual respect for different beliefs and faiths is what made me fall in love with the country. And as someone with very little experience of racism, but being one of the few people who look the way I do in the industry I work in, I have seldom felt the need to engage in conversations around race. Most of us do not walk around with a mirror in front of us, and unless reminded fail to notice the “funny tinge” of our skin colour.

Of course, there needs to be healthy discourse on critical matters of immigration, sovereignty and the state of our nation. And also, on race and identity. But we are doing it all wrong, if my 12-year-old son says this to me: “If Shamima Begum were British British, would she have been allowed back in the country?” I asked him the meaning of being “British British”. His reply: “Someone who doesn’t look like you or me.”

It’s heartbreaking that the civilised compassionate society I thought I was once part of is hurtling towards an evermore poisonous debate around otherness where my child is aware of being of that “funny tinge.”