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Black Spatial Agency Matters: The Rise of Black Geographies By Malaika Laing-Grant

There is an unequivocal push to shed light on the deepening racial divides that continue to underpin the Black experience in the 21st Century. Black liberation movements around the world, from the bustling streets of London to the southeastern coasts of Jamaica, have brought the importance of blackness to the fore. Not only as a tool for understanding the Black identity, but also as a theoretical framework from which to view our emancipatory commitment to social justice, liberation and reconstruction.

From analyses of diaspora to the entangled processes of the transatlantic slavery, colonialism and modernity- Black thought has long been concerned with questions of race, place, and power. Yet, it’s plausible to suggest that these developments, which span centuries and continents, have been systematically excluded from more traditional notions of geography.

Within the past five years, however, Black Geographies as a discipline and epistemology has gained increasing institutional clout, with thanks to the tenacity and ingenuity of Black scholars to carve out institutional spaces for Black intellectual production. But, what exactly is meant by Black Geographies? 

“Black Geographies’ is diasporic in its foundation through centuries of race projects of displacement, concealment, and marginalization that seek to render the Black body as “ungeographic” (McKittrick, 2006)

As a critical nascent body of scholarship, Black Geographies pinpoints Black spatial agency and the intersections between race, the state, and the dynamic distributions of power present in society. From the transatlantic slave trade to the lack of racial integration of Black and white families with similar class affiliations, to the mass incarceration of Black people, Black Geographies examines Black spatial experiences, including how Black life is reproduced in the wake of gentrification and redevelopment. In doing so, Black Geographies exposes the rich processes of Black socio-cultural and spatial reproduction to resist the confines of slavery, underdevelopment, and traditional human geographies.

Importantly, Black Geographies is not just for geographers. Amongst other schools of thought Black Geographies can also provide a foundation of understanding for the various means of organising political movements to both undermine systems of oppression, and efforts to positively contribute to the communal well-being of Black communities; as opposed to the individuality and exclusivity of our current Western world. Indeed, the scholarship of Black Geographies transcends boundaries outside of formal geography.

As the Black Lives Matter movement sweeps the globe, renewed efforts to address the ongoing injustices of racism and inequality further challenges the formal canon of disciplinary geography that we seem to value so much. We have reached a critical moment, and it is now time to re-examine our complicity in racial processes, evaluate the processes and frameworks that address issues of racial inequality, and reengage the scholarship of Black Geographies as a body of scholarship. This new body of thought must add to our understanding of the ways that race and place are inextricably linked.

Written by Malaika Laing-GrantBLAM’s Volunteer Blog editor

Malaika is a professional with over five years’ practical experience in the international development space, providing comprehensive programmatic support to drive programme success in areas such as youth and politics, social and economic development, education and capacity building. She is a strong believer in the power of the Black community, Malaika is also committed to education as a form of Black empowerment to dismantle cycles of oppression and systems of social injustice

Source

McKittrick, K. (2006). Demonic grounds: Black women and the cartographies of struggle. Minneapolis: Univ. of Minnesota Press

Featured

Why was the ‘Organisation of Women of Asian and African Descent’ (OWAAD) important?

The distinction between Black feminism and white feminism has long been established, due to the triple burden facing many Black women of race, class and gender. Black feminists have and continue to, highlight the differences in their experiences and issues they are confronted with. On the key issues of family, patriarchy and reproduction,

Black women have distinctly different realities to that of their white middle class counter parts, that often centre the feminist movement.[1] Black women are consistently confronted with racism, resistance and further oppression which white feminism has undermined and silenced. It was in acknowledgment of this that OWAAD was formed in 1978.[2]OWAAD functioned as an umbrella organisation, bringing together various groups of women with divergent interests and focuses.[3] OWAAD had a prominent impact on the women’s liberation movements in Britain, by placing the experiences of Black and Asian women on the liberation agenda. Attracting over 300 women to its first national conference, OWAAD successfully prompted the establishment of Black women’s groups across London.

The ‘Brixton’s Black Women’s Group’ opened in London as the first Black Women’s Centre and Asian and African – Caribbean women founded the ‘Southall Black Sisters’ in North West London.[4] As well as its undeniable influence, OWAAD contributed to several campaigns for the progression of the black experience in the United Kingdom. OWAAD joined the campaign to scrap the SUS laws, which gave the police the powers of stop and search without any cause and was disproportionately used against young Black men.[5] The impact of OWAAD and its initiatives are undeniably powerful and revolutionary. As Stella Dadzie (co-founder of OWAAD) emphasised, OWAAD worked to ‘show people sisterhood in operation’.[6] Not only did OWAAD take on the responsibility of upholding the Black-british community, they also established a legacy of justice and perseverance that remains a fundamental pillar of Black British History.


[1]British Library, ‘Sisterhood and After: The Women’s Liberation Oral History Project’, 3rd June 2011 <https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/stella-dadzie-owaad> last accessed 6/12/2019

[2] Ibid

[3] Bethany Warner, ‘The Organisation of Women of Asian and African Descent: constructing a collective identity’, 2016 <http://www.bristol.ac.uk/media-library/sites/history/documents/dissertations/Bethany_Warner2016.pdf > last accessed 6/12/2019

[4] Tess Gayhart, ‘Beyond the SS Empire Windrush: London’s Black History in the Archives’, 9thMay 2016

<https://blogs.kcl.ac.uk/kingshistory/category/teaching/> last accessed 6/12/2019

[5] Sophia Siddiqui,’ Still at the Heart of the race, Thirty years on’, 6th September 2018 < http://www.irr.org.uk/news/still-the-heart-of-the-race-thirty-years-on/> last accessed 6/12/2019

[6] Ibid(1)

By Isabelle Ehiorobo

Know Your Rights: What Laws & Regulations Protect Us from AI in Policing?

With the recent judgement which finds the Metropolitan Police’s expansive use of live facial recognition to be in accordance with the law, it is essential that Black and other racialised communities remain informed on the laws governing this use, and how this can be used for our protection when errors occur. 

The police are unable to use AI however they like; there are strict regulations attached to its deployment, and knowing those legal boundaries is essential.

Here is what the law says:

PACE 1984 

The Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984 governs the statutory powers of the police in England and Wales. Code G of PACE is the relevant code here, as it sets out that an arrest is only lawful if an officer has reasonable grounds to suspect a person of criminal activity, and if the arrest is considered necessary.

This means that a facial recognition match generated by an algorithm is not, on its own, sufficient justification for an arrest. Officers must still be able to articulate why they suspected you. If basic checks were not carried out, or if the grounds for suspicion cannot be clearly explained, you may be able to legally challenge the arrest.

Equality Act 2010

Facial recognition technology has a well-documented problem with accuracy disparities, particularly when it comes to race. The cases of Shaun Thompson and Alvi Choudhury illustrate this danger: a false match by an algorithm can have life-altering consequences for the person on the receiving end.

Under the Equality Act 2010, police forces must have due regard to the need to eliminate discrimination. If a force deploys a facial recognition system known to produce biased results, it may be in breach of this Act, which protects us all from both direct and indirect discrimination.

Human Rights Act 1998 

Article 8 of the Human Rights Act 1998 protects the right to a private life. Facial recognition technology, by its very nature, involves the collection and processing of sensitive biometric data, and that raises serious privacy concerns.

Where AI-driven decisions intrude upon a person’s right to privacy without sufficient justification, those decisions can be challenged under this Act. The threshold for interfering with Article 8 rights is high, and the state must demonstrate that any intrusion is lawful, necessary, and proportionate.

Data Protection Act 2018 

Under the Data Protection Act 2018, biometric data is classified as special category data, afforded the highest level of legal protection.

Your face is your data, and it is protected by law. Scanning your face in a public space is a highly intrusive act of data collection. If there is no clear and pressing social need for that data to be retained, or if your image remains stored on a police database after you have been cleared of any wrongdoing, this may be challenged.

Links to further reading:

  1. DPP Law. Wrongful Arrest by Algorithm: The Alvi Choudhury Case and Your Rights. DPP Law Blog: https://www.dpp-law.com/blog/wrongful-arrest-by-algorithm-the-alvi-choudhury-case-and-your-rights/
  2. Topping, A. Facial Recognition Error Prompts Police to Arrest Asian Man for Burglary 100 Miles Away. The Guardian, 25 February 2026: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2026/feb/25/facial-recognition-error-prompts-police-to-arrest-asian-man-for-burglary-100-miles-away
  3. Big Brother Watch. Facial Recognition Fight: Support the Appeal. Big Brother Watch Blog: https://bigbrotherwatch.org.uk/blog/facial-recognition-fight-support-the-appeal/

Why Black-led spaces make healing safer

This week is Mental Health Awareness Week, led by the Mental Health Foundation, and the 2026 theme is Action. That matters. Awareness can name a problem, but action changes conditions. For Black British communities, action cannot stop at telling people to breathe more, journal more, or simply “reach out”. Action has to mean building and protecting spaces where racism is named, our culture is understood, and healing does not begin with explanation. That is why Black-led mental health spaces matter so much right now. 

For Black communities in Britain, this conversation is deeply important. Mental health is not separate from the realities many Black people face every day. Racism, school exclusions, over-policing, workplace discrimination, financial pressure and social isolation all impact emotional wellbeing. Black people are often expected to carry stress, trauma and pressure silently while still continuing to survive systems that were never built with us in mind.

That is why Black-led spaces matter.

Black-led spaces create environments where Black people feel understood without having to constantly explain themselves. They allow people to exist without their experiences being minimised or dismissed. In these spaces, culture, identity and lived experience are recognised as important parts of healing.

Healing in Black communities has always existed collectively. Long before mental health became a mainstream public conversation, Black people created support networks through family, friendship groups, churches, community centres, youth projects, salons, barbershops and grassroots organisations. These spaces have often acted as places of safety, comfort and survival.

Healing is not only about therapy sessions or medical support, even though those services are important. Healing can also look like being in community, sharing stories, laughing together, listening to music, creating art, resting or simply feeling safe enough to be yourself.

The theme of Action asks all of us to think about what meaningful support actually looks like. Action could mean checking in on a loved one, setting boundaries, attending a community event, supporting Black-led organisations or speaking openly about racial trauma and wellbeing. It could also mean challenging the systems that continue to harm Black mental health.

At BLAM UK, we believe healing must be culturally grounded, community-led and rooted in justice. Black wellbeing deserves more than temporary attention during awareness weeks. It deserves long-term care, investment and protection.

Our mission is to create spaces of joy and freedom for Black people in the UK. Our Zuri Therapy programme was designed for Black British people, co-developed with Black therapists, and focused on racial trauma, racial microaggressions, identity, creativity and healing. That is what action can look like in practice. It can look like funding Black-led spaces, defending them, sharing them, and using them. It can look like directing people towards BLAM UK, Bayo and therapist networks such as BAATN. As Audre Lorde taught, self-preservation is political. For Black communities, healing is not separate from struggle. It is part of how we survive, how we care for each other, and how we build freedom. 

Black Books Under Attack Again in Greater Manchester.

A quiet act of censorship unfolded in a school library in Greater Manchester. A headteacher objected to a single title and within weeks more than one hundred thirty books were pulled off the shelves. It was an unprecedented move in the United Kingdom and it exposed how quickly fear and misinformation can erase voices from a public space that should belong to all of us.

Among the targeted titles were Nova Reid’s The Good Ally, Dean Atta’s Black Flamingo, Reni Eddo Lodge’s Why I am No Longer Talking to White People About Race, Bernardine Evaristo’s Girl Woman Other, Michelle Obama’s Becoming and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s We Should All Be Feminists. These books speak to the complexity of Black identity, racism, feminism and joy. Removing them does not protect young people; it denies them the language to understand their own lives and histories. Each text is an entry point into a world where Black girls can see themselves reflected and where boys from diaspora backgrounds know that their experiences are valid. Their absence tells a story of erasure.

Reading as resistance and belonging

Reading has long been an act of resistance for Black people. Frederick Douglass famously wrote that knowledge unfits a child to be a slave. Enslaved Africans in the Americas were punished for learning to read because literacy was a pathway out of bondage. Today when authorities remove books by Black authors they reproduce the logic that kept our ancestors illiterate. Reading is not only a method of self improvement; it is a communal practice that builds belonging. For Black communities in Britain each book is a bridge connecting the diaspora to our histories and struggles. When we read stories by authors like Reid and Evaristo, we learn that our experiences matter and that they fit within a larger narrative of resistance.

Bogle L’Ouverture: publishing as protest

In the nineteen seventies Eric and Jessica Huntley founded Bogle L’Ouverture Publications when mainstream publishers in Britain ignored Black writers. They named their press after Toussaint Louverture, the Haitian revolutionary, and Paul Bogle, the Jamaican freedom fighter. The publishing house became a statement of independence; it told the world that Black history and literature mattered. From their Walter Rodney Bookshop in West London the Huntleys sold books, hosted readings and provided a space where people could learn and organise. This was not just a shop; it was a community hub where the politics of liberation were cultivated. In the face of censorship and marginalisation the Huntleys built an institution that affirmed Black life. Their model reminds us that controlling our own narratives is a form of resistance.

New Beacon Books: a beacon of diasporic stories

A few years before Bogle L’Ouverture, John La Rose and Sarah White established New Beacon Books in nineteen sixty six. It was the first Black owned publisher and specialist bookshop in the United Kingdom and remains a vital resource today. For more than fifty years New Beacon Books has made literature from Africa, the Caribbean, the Americas and Black Britain available. Its shelves hold novels, poetry, history and political analysis that cannot be found in mainstream stores. The shop has been sustained by volunteers and supported by activists and students across generations. It functions as more than a business; it is a meeting place where people discuss ideas, organise campaigns and celebrate culture. In many ways it is a sanctuary against the tide of censorship. When a school bans books, New Beacon Books provides a safe harbour for those same stories.

Bookshops as sites of struggle

The history of Black bookshops in Britain is one of resilience in the face of violence. During the nineteen seventies and eighties there were few Black bookshops and those that existed were targeted by racist attacks including firebombings. Yet these spaces were always full. People travelled long distances not only to buy books but to seek advice, share information and start campaigns. Booksellers became counsellors, community organisers and keepers of memory. The attacks on these spaces reveal how threatening Black literacy has always been to those who benefit from ignorance. When we talk about a school removing books from its library we should remember that there has never been a safe time to read while Black. Every page we turn is an act of defiance against centuries of silencing.

A call to action

The Greater Manchester purge is not an isolated incident. It is part of a broader effort to control which stories children can access and to prevent them from encountering narratives that challenge white supremacy. To respond we must defend our libraries and support our own institutions. Demand that schools reinstate the removed titles; encourage children to read the banned books; donate to independent presses like New Beacon Books and buy your books from Afrori Books. Organise reading groups where you discuss texts that have been censored. Each book we read becomes a tool for liberation. When we choose reading we choose resistance and belonging over silence and erasure.

BLAM UK is Recruiting: Consultant Education Lawyer

BLAM UK is seeking a Consultant Education Lawyer to support our Advocacy Team, particularly within our School Exclusions Project.

This role involves providing legal guidance and expertise to help protect the educational and racial justice rights of Black children and young people. The successful candidate will work closely with our advocacy team to ensure that families receive clear legal guidance when navigating school exclusions and other education related challenges.

BLAM UK runs the UK’s only school exclusions advocacy service dedicated to supporting Black children and young people. Through advocacy, legal guidance, and community engagement, we work to challenge systemic inequalities in education and ensure that Black children and families are treated fairly within the education system.

Key Responsibilities

  • Provide expert legal advice to the advocacy team on education law matters.
  • Support cases relating to school exclusions and other education-related issues.
  • Assist with reviewing documents, preparing legal guidance, and advising on best practice for advocacy.
  • Work closely with the team to ensure the rights and welfare of Black children and young people are central to all interventions.

Requirements

  • Qualified solicitor or barrister with experience in education law.
  • Strong understanding of school exclusions, safeguarding, and issues specifically affecting Black children and young people.
  • Demonstrated commitment to equity, inclusion, and culturally competent advocacy.
  • Excellent communication and collaborative skills.
  • Ability to work flexibly and remotely, managing 5 hours per week.

Role Details

Hours: 5 hours per week (between 9am–5pm, Monday–Friday)
Rate: £28 per hour
Location: Remote / Flexible

How to Apply

Please send your CV and a short covering letter outlining your experience and suitability for the role to:

📧 hello@blamcharity.co.uk

Deadline for applications: 3 April 2026

If you are passionate about education justice and protecting the rights of Black children, we encourage you to apply.

Olive Morris: The Black Feminist Who Built Britain’s Radical Future.

March is Women’s History Month, and the theme this year is “Give to Gain.” For me, the name that immediately comes to mind is Olive Morris. Born in 1952 in Harewood, Jamaica, she moved to south London at nine years old. From a young age she saw Britain’s inequalities and, by her teens, she was already giving to her community. At 17 she intervened when police brutally harassed a Nigerian diplomat in Brixton and was herself beaten and arrested. Instead of backing down, she joined the youth wing of the British Black Panthers and dedicated herself to fighting for housing, education and justice. Olive gave everything she had, her youth, her courage, her labour, in order for her community to gain rights and dignity.

Olive’s own journey shows why we celebrate her today. In an era when Britain’s feminist movement often ignored race and class, Olive insisted that Black women be front and centre of liberation. She once cautioned that “if we don’t speak for ourselves, we’ll always be spoken for“. A statement anticipating the term intersectionality. She shifted the conversation from glass ceilings to the urgent issues Black women faced: police brutality, substandard housing and immigration law.

Building Black Feminism

In 1973 Olive co-founded the Brixton Black Women’s Group (BBWG). This was one of the UK’s first organisations specifically for Black women, and it created a space free from the racism of mainstream feminism and the sexism of male-dominated Black politics. Through study circles, newsletters and community projects, BBWG highlighted issues like childcare, education, domestic violence and workplace discrimination that white-led groups had ignored. In practice, BBWG put children’s centres, supplementary schools and housing justice at the heart of feminism.

Later Olive helped launch the Organisation of Women of African and Asian Descent (OWAAD) in 1978. This national network brought together Black and Asian women activists from across Britain to build solidarity and share strategies. Hundreds attended OWAAD’s first conference, a watershed moment in UK Black feminism. Olive and her comrades made it clear that any genuine women’s movement must fight racism and class exploitation as fiercely as patriarchy.

Housing as a Human Right

Olive’s activism in the 1970s proved that direct action could change lives. In 1972 she and friend Liz Obi squatted 121 Railton Road in Brixton to house homeless youth and community groups. They resisted multiple eviction attempts, even staging the famous scene of Olive on the roof refusing to come down. The flat became a hub for Black organising and eventually hosted Sabarr, one of Britain’s first Black community bookshops. Olive made clear her politics: housing is a right, not a privilege. She often said a “roof over your head isn’t a privilege – it’s a right”. This principle still drives tenants’ campaigns today. As Britain once again faces a housing and rent crisis, activists still invoke her example of squatters’ resistance and mutual aid for decent homes.

Confronting Police and ‘Sus’ Laws

Police harassment was another battlefield for Olive. After her own 1969 beating by the police, she refused to let that violence go unchallenged. In 1978 she returned to Brixton as a law student and worked at the local Community Law Centre, campaigning to scrap the infamous ‘sus’ laws that allowed officers to stop and search people on mere suspicion. Olive exposed how those racist laws terrorised the Black community – a problem that echoes today’s debates over stop-and-search. Her leadership meant that resistance to police brutality was rooted in Black women’s organising and legal struggle. Olive’s message was clear: Black women cannot rely on others to lead for them, because history shows they would be sidelined otherwise. She insisted working-class Black women must take charge of their own freedom.

Legacy: Giving to Gain

Olive Morris died at just 27 years old, but her impact was far beyond her years. In less than a decade of activism she built community centres, bookshops, schools and legal projects that still exist today. She gave her youth and safety to build movements that benefit us all. In the words of Women’s History Month’s theme, she truly gave in order for future generations to gain. By investing every ounce of her energy in collective struggle, she gained a blueprint for Britain’s future that we still follow.

As we honour women’s history this month, Olive Morris stands out as a perfect example of “give to gain.” She reminds us that leadership and sacrifice know no age limit. Her story, from squatting homes to forming feminist networks, has been under-told, but every Black activist today draws on the foundations she built. Everyone reading this should know her name and carry forward her legacy. How will we give to gain in our time?

The N Word on National TV Again at the BAFTAs and What It Says About Britain.

On 22 February 2026, the BBC broadcast the BAFTA Film Awards from the Royal Festival Hall. During the ceremony, Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were presenting when an audience member, John Davidson, audibly shouted an anti Black racial slur as part of an involuntary Tourette syndrome tic. 

It matters to say this with care. Tourette syndrome is real. Involuntary tics are real. Yet harm is still harm when millions hear a slur in their living rooms. The editorial question is not whether the tic was intentional. It is why a broadcaster with time to edit still broadcast the slur at all. 

Did you know there was a two hour window to protect viewers

Did you know the ceremony began at around 5pm, but the television broadcast began at 7pm. That means the programme was not live television in the simplest sense. It was a delayed broadcast with an edit window. 

That same broadcast was also edited down from roughly three hours to a two hour slot. So decisions were being made about what stays in, what comes out, and what gets treated as urgent. 

Here is where selective urgency becomes visible. Reporting confirmed that part of an acceptance speech by Akinola Davies Jr that included the words Free Palestine was removed from the broadcast. 

We cannot honestly present motive as fact, because the broadcaster has publicly pointed to practical editing constraints in coverage.  But we can still name the political meaning audiences read into the outcome. Palestinian solidarity was treated as removable content, while anti Black harm was treated as survivable background noise. That is interpretation, but it is interpretation rooted in the pattern of what institutions repeatedly choose to protect. 

This is not the first time the N word has appeared on British screens

This is not an isolated editorial accident. In 2020, the Ofcom assessed a BBC regional news report that included the N word spoken in full in pre recorded packages. Ofcom stated that the use of highly racially offensive language in full was unjustified in that context, even though it did not pursue further investigation because the BBC had already taken action. 

That same incident triggered mass complaints and eventually a public apology by BBC leadership after initial defence. 

So when Black viewers say we are tired, we are not being dramatic. We are tracking a history of being asked to absorb trauma for someone else’s editorial framing of context, education, realism, or authenticity. 

The law can name some harms clearly and still leave others vague

Under the Equality Act 2010, harassment related to race is unlawful when it has the purpose or effect of violating dignity or creating a hostile, degrading, humiliating, or offensive environment. 

So why does broadcast culture still treat anti Black abuse as a debate instead of a clear breach of dignity. That is partly an institutional habit, but it is also about what gets named and operationalised.

The UK Government formally adopted the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance working definition of antisemitism in 2016, and government guidance and parliamentary material repeatedly stress the definition is non legally binding, a tool rather than a statute.  The IHRA text itself also states that criticism of Israel similar to that levelled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic. 

Did you know there is no equivalent UK wide, government adopted working definition named anti Black racism, even though race discrimination is covered in law. You can find definitions in local and organisational frameworks, but the absence of a shared national working definition is not neutral. It shapes what feels enforceable, legible, and urgent. 

This is bigger than one broadcast

The point is not that only one broadcaster is failing. It is that anti Blackness is structurally normalised across British life.

In February 2026, Transport for London had a social media advert banned by the Advertising Standards Authority because it reinforced a harmful racial stereotype linking Black boys with threatening behaviour. 

In schools and policing, adultification bias has been repeatedly documented, where Black children are perceived as older, less innocent, and more culpable, with serious consequences. 

In politics, Diane Abbott has faced disproportionate racist and misogynistic abuse, including findings that she received an extreme share of abusive messages compared with other women MPs. 

Black radical thought teaches us to read moments like this not as a one off glitch, but as encoded institutional practice. Stuart Hall reminded us that media is not just reflecting reality, it is producing meaning through decisions made at every stage of production.  That is why an apology without change can feel like manipulation. The mechanism stays intact.

What Black communities are demanding is simple. Never broadcast the slur. Never treat our dignity as optional. Publish what failed in the compliance chain, and what will be changed before the next delayed broadcast. 

Audre Lorde’s Radical Self-Care.

Audre Lorde in 1980. Audre Lorde was a Black, queer feminist poet and activist who transformed the way we understand identity, care, and resistance. Through her writings and speeches, Lorde urged marginalized people to prioritize self-care as an act of survival, asserting that nurturing one’s own well-being is not selfish – it’s a necessary weapon against oppression. As we mark Lorde’s birthday (February 18) during U.S. Black History Month, we celebrate how this “warrior poet” used radical self-care to empower herself and her community in the fight for justice.

A Warrior Poet in the Fight for Justice

Audre Lorde often introduced herself as a “Black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet,” signaling the many facets of her identity and struggle. Born in 1934 in Harlem to Caribbean immigrant parents, she came of age amidst racism and segregation. Lorde found her voice through poetry at a young age and later became a librarian and educator. By the 1960s she was deeply involved in activism – from the Civil Rights movement to the women’s liberation and gay rights movements. Her experiences as a Black queer woman in America fueled her demand for intersectionality in social justice: she insisted that the different parts of our identities (race, gender, sexuality, class) cannot be separated in the struggle for equality. Lorde’s activism was broad and global.

She spoke at the 1979 National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights and co-founded Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press in 1981 to publish works by Black feminists. She even helped build connections with activists in apartheid South Africa. Through all her work, Lorde was a fearless truth-teller, unafraid to call out racism in feminist spaces or homophobia in Black spaces. Her life’s mission was to empower those rendered voiceless by society – and to show that embracing one’s full, authentic self is a potent act of resistance.

Self-Care as Self-Preservation

One of Audre Lorde’s most enduring lessons is her redefinition of self-care. In 1988, while battling terminal cancer, Lorde wrote the now-famous words: “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” At a time when Black women like herself were expected to be selfless caregivers or strong workhorses, Lorde turned that idea on its head. She declared that preserving her own health, sanity, and spirit was a political act – a way to refuse the destructive pressures of a racist, sexist society. For Lorde, self-care was not about pampering or consumer comforts. It was “the sustenance that sustained her ability to enact change”. As a Black queer woman, she knew that the society around her did not prioritize her well-being at all – so she had to prioritize it herself. Lorde likened her fight against oppression to her fight against cancer.

In both battles, survival required strength and vigilance. She warned against “overextending” oneself in activism, noting that burnout and exhaustion only serve the systems that want to silence oppressed voices. By caring for her body and mind, Lorde equipped herself to keep speaking out, writing, and fighting. She urged her peers to do the same, especially Black women who faced the double trauma of racism and sexism every day. This holistic view, that mental and physical health are part of the freedom struggle, was groundbreaking. It challenged the idea that activism must equal self-sacrifice, and instead proposed that self-preservation is a form of political resistance.

Legacy of a Radical Vision

Audre Lorde’s radical self-care philosophy resonates powerfully to this day. In recent years, we have seen a resurgence of her ideas in movements like Black Lives Matter and Black feminist organizing. Activists cite Lorde when reminding each other to rest and heal, knowing that rest is resistance and that we can’t pour from an empty cup. Especially for Black people, women of color, LGBTQ+ folks and others on the margins, Lorde’s words offer permission to care for ourselves in a world that often neglects or attacks us.

Her influence is evident in the modern discourse around “radical self-care” and “community care.” For example, wellness initiatives in activist communities and the rise of groups like The Nap Ministry (which advocates rest as reparations for Black people) draw directly from Lorde’s insight that caring for oneself is not a luxury.

Moreover, Lorde’s life exemplifies that self-care and community care go hand in hand. She fostered communities of support – whether through creating a publishing press for women of color or organizing healing circles for Black women with cancer (as she did in The Cancer Journals). By openly discussing her struggles – from racism to her health – she showed that sharing pain and caring for each other can dismantle the system that wants Black and brown people to “keep it all inside”. Today, scholars and activists credit Audre Lorde for this crucial reframing of self-care. What started as a deeply personal revelation – a Black lesbian poet listening to her body and spirit – became a rallying cry for collective survival. Lorde’s legacy teaches us that tending to ourselves is not selfish, it is self-preservation, and in her words, “better we learn to mother ourselves” than to capitulate to a world that would see us used up.

As we honor Audre Lorde on her birthday and during Black History Month, we are reminded that her voice is a guiding light. Lorde showed that the act of self-care is a radical declaration of worth – a way of saying that we deserve to thrive even in a system that aims to break us. Her life’s work, spanning poetry, essays, and activism, continues to inspire new generations to speak up, to embrace their identities fully, and to care fiercely for themselves and each other. In Lorde’s spirit, caring for ourselves is not about escaping the world’s problems; it is about equipping ourselves with the strength to change the world. This Black History Month, let Audre Lorde’s example ignite in us the courage to rest when weary, to love ourselves unapologetically, and to fight on for liberation – because our self-preservation is an act of political warfare

Black British history beyond London.

Many people think of Black British history in terms of London events like the Windrush arrival or Notting Hill. But important stories happened all over Britain. Black communities in cities like Bristol, Leeds and Newcastle have reshaped the country culturally, politically and socially. Let’s explore some inspiring tales: a bus boycott in Bristol, Martin Luther King Jr’s visit to Newcastle, ancient Roman soldiers in Cumbria, and Britain’s first Caribbean carnival in Leeds.

Bristol’s Bus Boycott of 1963

In 1963 Bristol’s bus company refused to hire Black or Asian people as drivers. Youth worker Paul Stephenson and others led a protest against this “colour bar”. For four months local activists and the West Indian community boycotted the buses until the company finally agreed to hire drivers of all races. Their victory made headlines. It inspired Britain’s first Race Relations Act (1965), which made racial discrimination in public life illegal. The Bristol Bus Boycott is remembered as one of Britain’s earliest and most powerful Black-led campaigns for equality.

Martin Luther King Jr in Newcastle, 1967

In the north of England, Newcastle has its own civil rights moment. On 13 November 1967, Dr Martin Luther King Jr crossed the Atlantic for a one-day visit to receive an honorary doctorate from Newcastle University. (It was the only UK university to honour him in his lifetime.) During the ceremony, King gave an unexpected speech warning against racist ghettos and poverty in Britain. He told the audience that “Racism is … the coloured man’s burden and the white man’s shame”. Decades later, King’s brief visit links Britain’s struggle for equality with the American Civil Rights Movement, showing how ideas crossed the ocean.

African Soldiers in Roman Cumbria

Black British history goes back far beyond the twentieth century. In north west England, at a Roman fort called Aballava (near modern Burgh by Sands, Cumbria), archaeologists found evidence of North African soldiers in Britain. A Roman altar dating to around AD 253 records that Caelius Vibianus, commander of the Numerus Maurorum Aurelianorum (a unit of Berber soldiers from Mauretania, now Morocco and Algeria), was stationed there. In fact, Cumbria is home to Britain’s first recorded African community, some 1,800 years ago. These findings show that people from North Africa lived and had families in Britain in the third century. It is a striking “did you know?” story: Black people were part of Britain’s story long before most of us think.

Leeds’s First Caribbean Carnival, 1967

In 1967 Leeds became the site of Britain’s first Caribbean-style carnival parade. Community leader Arthur France, a student from St Kitts-Nevis, organised the very first West Indian carnival in Chapeltown, Leeds. Hundreds of people in colourful costumes and steel bands marched from Potternewton Park to Leeds Town Hall as part of the new “West Indian Carnival” procession. About 1,000 locals watched that inaugural event. This Leeds carnival set the trend for later festivals – including London’s famous Notting Hill Carnival. Today the Leeds West Indian Carnival is a huge annual celebration of Caribbean culture and community. In other words, a party in Leeds in 1967 helped reshape British culture.

Across Britain

These stories show that Black history in Britain is not confined to London. From Roman soldiers in Cumbria to activists in Bristol and Newcastle, to cultural pioneers in Leeds, Black people have made their mark across the country. Each event helped change Britain – overturning racism, inspiring hope, and celebrating identity. As one writer notes, these Black communities outside London “have reshaped the country, culturally, politically and socially”. By learning these local stories, we get a fuller view of Black British history – one that truly reaches from coast to coast.

Live Facial Recognition on Trial: Shaun Thompson v Met Police.

Observations from sitting in Courtroom 73 of the Royal Courts of Justice.
By Ogechi Obioha.

At the Royal Courts of Justice, before Lord Justice Holgate and Mrs Justice Farbey, a fundamental question about the relationship between technology, privacy, and police power is being tested. 

This has been brought about by applicants Shaun Thompson, an anti-knife crime campaigner, and Silkie Carlo, the director of the civil liberties campaign group Big Brother Watch. Mr. Thompson was stopped outside London Bridge where officers asked for his fingerprints. After being wrongly identified by police facial recognition as a suspect, he brings the first case of its kind to review the Metropolitan Police’s use of the AI technology.

The case of Thompson (and another) v Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis asks: how much discretion should police have in deploying Live Facial Recognition (LFR) technology across London’s streets?

Why is this important?

Live Facial Recognition (LFR) is not just another surveillance tool. As the Metropolitan Police themselves describe it during their submissions, LFR is “game-changing” and has “revolutionised crime detection”.

The technology works by converting facial features into numerical codes, then checking those codes against police watchlists in real-time. When someone passes an LFR camera, their biometric data is captured, processed, and compared against databases of wanted individuals.

With that power comes a profound civil liberties concern: should police be able to turn any public space into a biometric checkpoint?

The Core Legal Question.

At the heart of this judicial review is the concept of arbitrariness. In law, a power is considered arbitrary when decision-makers can act without sufficient constraints, rules, or principles guiding their choices. The claimants argue that the Met’s current LFR policy leaves too much to individual officer discretion, particularly regarding where these cameras are deployed.

This isn’t the first time British courts have grappled with LFR. The Court of Appeal’s decision in Ed Bridges v South Wales Police established that while LFR use is not inherently unlawful, there must be sufficient protections against arbitrary deployment. That case focused on South Wales Police’s use of the technology. Now, London’s approach is under scrutiny.

The Claimants’ Case: Too Much, Too Broad.

Dan Squires KC, representing the claimants, painted a picture of unchecked discretion. His central arguments include:

The Geography Problem: According to the claimants’ analysis, approximately 47% of London qualifies as a “crime hotspot” under the Met’s policy. When “access routes” (main roads leading to these areas) are added, the coverage becomes extensive. Squires argues that this gives officers discretion to deploy LFR across a large amount of the capital.

The Public Space Transformation: Perhaps most powerfully, the claimants argue that LFR fundamentally changes the nature of public spaces. Unlike border controls at airports, where people expect to be checked, LFR can turn Paddington Station or any busy street into a place where your biometric data is captured, processed, and checked multiple times a day. 

The Parliamentary Question: Squires suggests this is a decision of such magnitude that Parliament, not police operational officers, should determine where and when such intrusive technology is deployed. As society grapples with what level of surveillance it finds acceptable, should that choice rest with elected representatives rather than police policy?

The Reality of “False Alerts”: While the Met Police offers a false alert rate of just 1 in 33,000, Shaun Thompson’s own experience illustrates the human cost of even “accurate” systems. When wrongly flagged, he had his passport and fingerprints taken, an extraordinary intrusion for someone who had committed no crime.

The Defence: Necessary Powers, Sufficient Safeguards.

Anya Proops KC, representing the Metropolitan Police, offered a vigorous defence of LFR deployment. Her arguments included:

Public Safety Imperative: The Met argues that criminals who pose a threat to public safety walk amongst us and are near impossible to find using normal police tactics. LFR provides a crucial capability to identify wanted individuals who would otherwise evade detection. Without this tool, dangerous offenders remain at large.

Policy Constraints Are Sufficient: The defence points to specific safeguards embedded in the Met’s policy that prevent arbitrary deployment. These include a clear definition of “crime hotspots” using quantitative crime data, mandatory proportionality assessments, clear procedures that officers must follow for each deployment, specific watchlist criteria, and compliance with the Surveillance Camera Code of Practice. Proops argues these constraints provide a “clear roadmap” that prevents arbitrary decision-making. Officers are not making capricious choices, but following detailed guidance that embodies legal principles of necessity and proportionality.

Broad Discretion Is Not Necessarily Unlawful: Drawing on case law including In the matter of an application by Lorraine Gallagher for Judicial Review, the Met argues that having broad discretion, even covering large areas, is not inherently problematic. What matters is whether the law governing that discretion is sufficiently clear and precise. The Met contends their policy meets this standard.

The Glukhin Distinction: The defence references Glukhin v Russia, where the European Court of Human Rights found against “unconditioned use” of facial recognition. The Met argues their approach is fundamentally different: it’s targeted, regulated, and proportionate, rather than blanket surveillance.

Looking Ahead

This is a judicial review case. That is a fundamental check on how public bodies exercise their powers over citizens. The court is not deciding whether LFR should exist, but whether the Met’s current framework for deploying it is lawful. That distinction matters enormously for what happens next.

If the claimant succeeds in his application, the implications could be far-reaching. The Met may need to redesign its LFR policy with tighter constraints on where and when the technology can be deployed. Questions that currently seem settled might be reopened: Must police seek explicit consent through prominent signage in areas operating LFR? Should people have a meaningful opportunity to leave an area before their biometric data is captured? Could deployment be restricted to specific intelligence-led operations rather than broad “crime hotspot” sweeps?

If the Met Police succeed in their defence, the consequences flow in the opposite direction. The Met has indicated plans to expand LFR use across London. A judicial blessing of the current policy framework could accelerate that expansion. More cameras, more locations, more Londoners having their biometric data captured and checked, potentially multiple times daily. The number of innocent people experiencing what the claimants term “intrusion of their privacy” could grow substantially. 

Whatever the court decides will set the parameters for biometric surveillance across the UK. This judgment will determine not just the legality of current practice, but the boundaries of what is permissible.

This analysis is based on courtroom observations and should not be considered legal advice. The case remains ongoing and judgment is awaited.

Black History Month In America: shared histories and radical connections.

Every February, the United States observes Black History Month. It grew from historian Carter G. Woodson’s 1915 call to preserve Black heritage. In 2026 the theme “A Century of Black History Commemorations” marks a century since the first Negro History Week.

Inspired by that theme, BLAM UK highlights African‑American radicals whose activism in Britain forged connections that continue to influence Black life on both sides of the Atlantic.

Frederick Douglass: freedom forged in Britain

A former slave turned leading abolitionist, Douglass crossed to the British Isles in 1845. Over nearly two years he toured England, Scotland and Ireland delivering powerful lectures against American slavery. His speeches drew large audiences and raised funds for the abolitionist cause. Douglass said he could dine with parliamentarians and feel “a human being”. The welcome sharpened his critique of American racism.

Ida B. Wells: internationalising anti‑lynching

Journalist Ida B. Wells travelled to Britain in 1893 and 1894 to denounce lynching. University of Chicago archives record that she spoke to large crowds about the “crime and terrorism of lynching” and helped establish the London Anti‑Lynching Committee. Wells argued that lynching enforced racial subjugation. Newspapers reported packed halls in Aberdeen and Edinburgh where she described the continuing oppression of Black Southerners. Her tours internationalised the anti‑lynching struggle and rallied British allies to pressure U.S. authorities.

James Baldwin: transatlantic dialogues

James Baldwin used Britain to debate racism and freedom. At the University of Cambridge in February 1965 he debated conservative commentator William F. Buckley, declaring that the “American Dream is at the expense of the American Negro”. The audience sided with Baldwin. 4 years later the film Baldwin’s Nigger (1969) captured him and Dick Gregory in conversation with young Black Brits about imperialism and race. These encounters linked Black American radicalism with Britain’s Black diaspora.

Sarah Parker Remond: pioneering lecturer

Sarah Parker Remond, a free Black American, sailed to Liverpool in 1859 seeking refuge and a platform for abolition. Her Manchester lectures condemned the denial of political and social rights to free people of colour and described enslaved people as treated like “things with no rights – political, social, domestic or religious”. She continued speaking in London to enthusiastic applause and joined the London Emancipation Committee. Remond studied at Bedford College and became the first Black woman to lecture to mass audiences in Britain.

W.E.B. Du Bois: Pan‑Africanism in London

London hosted the first Pan‑African Conference in July 1900. Organised by Trinidadian lawyer Henry Sylvester Williams, the meeting brought delegates from Africa, the Caribbean, North America and Britain. W.E.B. Du Bois chaired the committee that drafted the “Address to the Nations of the World,” urging European powers to end racism and permit self‑government for colonised peoples. Du Bois warned that “the problem of the 20th century is the problem of the colour‑line”, linking Pan‑Africanism to London.

Malcolm X: confronting British racism

In 1964–65 Malcolm X brought his uncompromising message to Britain. On 3 December 1964 he addressed the Oxford Union, arguing that “extremism in the defence of liberty is no vice” and insisting that Black people were justified in defending their freedom. He also spoke to students at the London School of Economics and visited Smethwick, a town notorious for racist housing policies, to highlight discrimination. His tour exposed British racism and linked Black liberation struggles across continents.

Interconnected struggles and remembrance

From Douglass’s liberation campaign to Malcolm X’s solidarity visit, these stories show that Black history is not solely American or British but a shared struggle forged through travel, speeches and alliances. As we celebrate A Century of Black History Commemorations, BLAM UK invites readers to honour the transatlantic partnerships that nurtured Black freedom. Remembering these connections is a radical act: it affirms that our histories are entwined and that the fight against racism transcends borders.