The Obama victory is such a wonderful event. I think Maya Angelou sums up best why it is so special. (Dare you to watch Maya speak so eloquently and passionately, and not be in tears by the time she reads her poem “I Rise”.)
It isn’t just that he is a democrat and doesn’t come from the white wealthy establishment. It isn’t just what he symbolises. Nor that he is smart (please tell me that the word intellectual is going to stop being a term of abuse).
But because he has in bucket loads that under-rated and sadly rare value of common sense. It is inevitable he’ll disappoint, make decisions people don’t agree with, or are just plain wrong. But by using common sense to come to conclusions, there is a greater chance that his decisions will be well thought out. And he has the leadership skills and charisma to get people to follow him, even if they don’t always agree with him. Now that’s a special talent.
Obama inspires so much debate about race and identity. Is he black? White? Bi-racial? Post-racial? Not “proper” African American because he is the son of an African and an American, but doesn’t have a slave history? A new type of American as he is the son of an immigrant?
While Obama’s existence and and experience is causing this particular debate around race and ethnicity to move on and progress, I don’t really share the need that some people feel to put labels onto others. Surely it is up to the person to decide what, if any, label or identity they wish to choose? When done by others, there seems to be an expectation that this identity explains everything about someone. By doing so, leads people to ignore the parts of someone which don’t conform to that identity, or inflate the parts of someone’s behaviour which re-inforce the stereotype.
I wrote a very rushed colour piece on Englishness and identity years ago when I worked at the BBC (the page has now been deleted, but I found a version on a forum). It wasn’t a particularly good or amusing article. It was intended to be satirical, but I think in parts it reinforced rather than confounded national stereotypes and certainly was a little immature in places! However, despite this, elements of the piece still sum up my views on my own identity.
A Gaelic-speaking mother, Welsh-speaking father, born in England, raised in Australia, lived in the UK for over a decade. I don’t know what that makes me, but I know it doesn’t make me any one singular thing: a Scot, or Welsh, or English, or British, or Australian (despite my accent).
I’m really quite comfortable with not having a clear sense of what identity box I go into, no matter how many times people try to say that I am one of these things. I’m quite happy being just Jen.


