"Don't Forget Black me"

Sola Olowo-Ake's reflections on ‘Resisting Erasure: Black Artists in Vancouver’

Yesterday, I attended an online conversation that was hosted by the Vancouver Public Library. Lama Mugabo moderated a conversation between himself, Jane Wade, an artist, and Nya Lewis Williams, a writer and curator. The conversation explored how we can resist erasure as black artists in Vancouver and offered reflections, as Jan and Nya spoke about their experiences being a black artist and curator (respectively) in Vancouver.

I was intrigued by the topic itself as a black designer. I have also been reflecting on this issue of black erasure through whitewashing and my experiences with the stifling effects of that awareness through storytelling. But this conversation really inspired me to reflect.

What happens when we also forget ourselves (alongside the systems that continuously erase us)?

For me, I’ve found it somewhat difficult to navigate this environment with the awareness of the history and current practices of black erasure in Vancouver. I’ve found it even more difficult at times to resist in my design work without compromise- leaving necessary pieces of my identity behind to ‘fit in’. So after I graduated from my Master of Design course and transitioned into ‘the work life’, I was so conscious that, like Nya and Jan, I would also be one of the very few black people in my daily spaces. And no matter how fitting these spaces are with my ever-growing design skills, I’ve never really felt a sense of belonging in any of them.

So I wrote a poem to remind myself to carry all of me into the spaces that I go into. And in honour and celebration of the conversation yesterday, I would like to share it here.

This is ‘Don’t forget black me’.

Don't forget black me

Don't forget black me

When you're running in the streets

Climbing corporate ladders

Getting degrees in institutions with white surround sound

Don't forget black me

When you're tasked with work

When you begin to earn a living and it's becoming increasingly easy to forget your identity

Don't forget black me

When they pay you to forget me

Directly, or indirectly

Whether it came in the job description

Or it snuck in through the back door at night and powered your pen

Don't forget black me

When your work is centred on creating

And you don't see more bodies- black

breathing

Don't forget black me

As you sit in meetings

At the break of day or the crack of dawn

Don't forget black me

As you write in ink as a version of you that has conformed

Codeswitched

Switch back and remember black me

Don't forget black me

When the birds in the sky sing

Or the blues in the sky grey

Don't forget black me

Don't let the rain wash you away

Don't forget to speak, black me

When you are uncomfortable

Say what you need

Do not begin to believe that everything they have will be alright for you too

You are not them

They are not you

Don't forget black me too

Don't forget black me, that you are black

And the way black keep keys

Does not resemble white

Don't forget to feed black me

Don't forget to build black me

Don't forget to care for black me

And don't forget to sing, black me

If music has journeyed with you thus far

Let your soulful renderings of heartfelt words and songs unspoken lay bricks to the paths that you would walk till eternity.

Don't forget to be, black me

Becoming is a process but it must be practiced

For in order to become, one must ‘be’ - continuously

Don't forget to be me, black me

Don't forget me, black me

Posted on: 8th April 2022 Written by: Sola Olowo-Ake