Tag Archives: Your Students’ Association

Embracing the Whole Coconut: Redefining Identity and Diversity

In honour of Black History Month 2023, Your Students’ Association Advice Service Coordinator Elena Semple shares their journey from feeling like an outsider, to embracing their multifaceted identity.

Elena Semple, Advice Service Coordinator, Your Students’ Association

Growing up, I was always the ‘coconut’ among my friends and acquaintances. This designation did not arise from an idiosyncratic fondness for coconuts; it was because of my skin colour. I had brown skin on the outside, but they considered me ‘white’ on the inside. The term ‘coconut’ is often used to describe someone with dark skin who supposedly acts or thinks like they are white, as if skin colour should dictate one’s personality or identity. This label haunted me for years, but eventually, I learned to embrace my identity beyond my skin colour. From my early days in the United States to my experiences in Scotland, various personal challenges and revelations have shaped my understanding of identity.

My mother and I immigrated to the United States from Bolivia in the 1990s when I was merely two years old. Our move was motivated, in part, by the pursuit of political asylum, as we joined other family members already settled in the US. My mother, an unmarried parent in a less accepting era, sought new opportunities in a foreign land. Growing up in the US, I saw that my home was a rich tapestry of traditions, languages, and cuisines, as my Bolivian family was deeply rooted in our country’s customs around food, music, and beliefs. However, once I left the front door, society tried to instil in me that I had to leave that all behind and if I wanted to survive, I had to assimilate into my surroundings. It is crucial to note that my family and I lived as undocumented immigrants, necessitating constant vigilance for fear of deportation. I grew up in the suburbs, so the town’s population was approximately 95% white, so assimilation wasn’t merely about fitting in but a means of averting suspicion.

Me as a young child.

In school, I quickly realised that I didn’t fit neatly into the predefined boxes of identity that society had created. My interests, tastes, and values didn’t always align with what was expected of someone with my skin colour. I cherished Bolivian folkloric music as ardently as I enjoyed mainstream pop. I was equally comfortable conversing in my native Spanish as in English. I relished the delicious spicy dishes my mother and grandmother cooked at home and enjoyed a pepperoni pizza with friends.

Despite my multicultural upbringing, my peers and classmates struggled to fathom the possibility of embracing and embodying multiple cultural identities. It was as if I were compelled to select one facet of my heritage and adhere to it exclusively. This misunderstanding led to the ‘coconut’ label being attached to me, and I began feeling like an outsider in my community. Over time, I started questioning why skin colour had to dictate so much about who I was supposed to be. It became evident that the time had come to reject this stereotype and embrace the authenticity of my multifaceted identity, forged through my unique experiences, choices, and values.

Towards the end of high school, I grew increasingly vocal about issues impacting immigrants in the United States. I even composed a letter to a State Senator, boldly expressing my solidarity with immigrant strikes and actions during the early 2000s. I must admit that sleep eluded me for weeks, weighed down by the fear that I had inadvertently exposed myself and my family to potential repercussions from Immigration Control Enforcement. To my astonishment, the Senator responded, commending my courage and gratitude for speaking out. This marked my initial foray into activism, a memory I revisit during uncertain times.

At a Black History Month exhibition at Strathclyde University, 2018.

As I entered university in 2007, I carried the lessons of my high school activism. When I moved to Scotland to attend university, I gradually realised that I could unapologetically represent my cultural heritage and draw strength from the myriad influences that had shaped me. Nevertheless, being identified as Latinx held limited significance in Glasgow during that period, as the Latinx community was notably small.  People’s understanding of my culture was primarily informed by what they had gleaned from Mexican culture or their experiences during Spanish holidays. Once again, I found myself being categorised as ‘American’ before anything else, and many individuals expressed surprise at my ‘white voice.’ My awareness of this stemmed from my experiences working in call centres, where people often expressed relief at speaking to someone they perceived as ‘white’ rather than ‘foreign.’ In the hospitality industry, managers often delivered instructions loudly and slowly, presuming that I did not possess proficiency in English until I spoke. However, once my American identity became evident, their demeanour would shift. It became apparent that among workers of colour, the American white-passing accent was accorded a peculiar favour.

It’s 2023, and the concepts of inclusivity and equality are prominent in our collective consciousness. While Scotland has made considerable progress, there remains work to be done in fostering an inclusive society. Fortunately, university spaces offer places for students to learn from other cultures and appreciate the richness we bring and want to contribute to society. My journey towards embracing my heritage reached a pivotal juncture in 2017 when I became actively involved in the student movement. This period marked a profound shift in my perspective concerning the term ‘coconut.’ Rather than perceiving it negatively, I began to view it as a testament to my unique capacity to bridge disparate worlds and wholeheartedly celebrate the beauty of diversity.

As I delved deeper into the student movement, I encountered kindred spirits who, like me, defied society’s narrow definitions of identity. We formed a close-knit community that revelled in our diverse backgrounds and cherished the freedom to be our authentic selves. As I grappled with the intricate puzzle of race, my other facets of identity, including my sexual orientation and neurodivergence, began to merge; I gained a profound appreciation for the concept of intersectionality. Collaborating with fellow students during my tenure at the NUS, we pushed back against stereotypes. We demonstrated that identity is a complex tapestry woven from a multitude of experiences and influences.

Today, I no longer cringe at being called a ‘coconut’. It no longer suggests that an inner layer is better than the outer layer. Instead, I wear it as a badge of honour, a reminder of my capacity to defy stereotypes and carve out my identity. This reimagined interpretation underscores the value of the coconut’s external and internal facets, emphasising the importance of embracing the entirety of one’s identity rather than privileging one perspective over another. I’ve learned that being true to oneself is more important than conforming to others’ expectations. My journey has reinforced the idea that our worth is not predicated on the colour of our skin but on the depth of our experiences, the complexity of our character, and the authenticity of our hearts.


Your Students’ Association offers UHI students the opportunity to join Student Networks that provide a nurturing environment where individuals with diverse backgrounds and interests can come together to celebrate their unique identities and experiences. They offer a safe space for students to explore their passions, values, and cultural heritage.  Click here to find out what networks are available.

Proud to be black: Colina Wright

Colina Wright is the Interim Student Voice Manager at the Students’ Association at the Highlands and Islands as well as an activist, campaigner, and an advocate for change. As part of Black History Month, Colina looks back at her own relationship with history – and forward to a more positive, united future.

I asked my beautiful, mixed race four-year old daughter to undertake a mundane task for me and her response was “I’m not your slave.”

Where had she learnt that, how had this language become so commonplace within our lives without any thought as to what it actually meant? At what point will that mean something to her? Will it ever?

My name is Colina Wright, my pronouns are she/her and I am the Interim Student Voice Manager at Your Students’ Association here at UHI. Whilst I am proud to be black, I must start by saying that I introduce myself as a woman that is black rather than a black woman, because my gender is most important to me. To me, whilst I wouldn’t say I’ve never experienced racism, I have never allowed myself to feel victimised based on the colour of my skin, whereas sexism is more prevalent and covert.

Me and my daughter

Growing up

I am black woman with my family immigrating from Jamaica back in the 1960s however I have no idea of our history further back than my grandparents. Growing up I did experience racism; fortunately I was never told to go home, which would have been confusing given that home was Nottingham, but I was asked why was I so dark. It bothered the pre-teen version of myself. I poured bleach in the bath and scrubbed my skin until it bled in an attempt to fit in…but the ironic thing was that this abuse was from other black children who should have known better. I decided that my skin colour was not going to stop me from achieving my aspirations and learnt to disassociate myself with the negativity that others wanted to put on me.

I went to university before the term BAME/BME was popularised. There definitely wasn’t an acknowledgement of any attainment gaps between white and non-white students and even if this was discussed, it was done behind closed doors, possibly through fear of being perceived as racist.

I recall an African history workshop organised for BAME students whilst I was at school, although we weren’t referred to as that back in the early 90s. I purposely chose not to attend, not because African history wasn’t important to me, but because I only saw the anger and hatred that resulted from these workshops; whilst knowledge is power, I saw black students feel the need to avenge our ancestors, blaming their white counterparts for something they were not personally a part of.

As Dr Martin Luther King said:

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that”.

We need to learn to love.

I don’t recall there being many other black students on my course – there can’t be a diversity problem if there isn’t any diversity, right? Regardless, I would not have believed it anyway. I would not be defined by other people’s perceptions of me and would let my work speak for itself. I left with a good honours (2:1), so what was the issue?

Justice

Black British teenager Stephen Lawrence was murdered before I went to university; I hadn’t really acknowledged what his death – or the lack of justice for it – meant. Whilst the term ‘institutional racism’ had been coined, it didn’t resonate with me and was something that just happened within the police force, right? If I didn’t get into trouble with the law then what difference would it have made to me?

But following the death of George Floyd in 2020, the Black Lives Matter campaign hasn’t been able to stop the murder of black people by the police and equality, diversity and inclusion training hasn’t stopped random stop and search initiatives targeting more black people. We are more conscious of these things and need now, more than ever, to be part of the culture of change.

History

History isn’t necessarily as long ago as we think. Slavery did not end with the Act for the Abolition of the Slave Trade in 1807, it continues today and may no longer be based on the colour of people’s skin, but is still very much about people believing they are superior towards another set of people. It is called oppression.

Apartheid, the civil rights movement, the Ku Klux Klan, lynchings, the wrongful imprisonment and death on those fighting for equality – these atrocities are based on the belief of being better than another set of people.

The great Nelson Mandela said:

“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate…”

History takes a long time to change…taking the knee in football games won’t bring back George Floyd, Mark Duggan, Stephen Lawrence or the hundreds of other black lives lost at the hands of white people and police; many of whom have never been held to account for their actions. Taking the knee won’t erase the decades of scores of people wrongfully imprisoned, and it won’t remove the stain of slavery from history. I think actions like these do very little to address such issues …but what else does?

Most importantly, Mandela’s quote continues, reminding us:

“…and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

That’s why I think it’s important to acknowledge black history and continue to work in collaboration as a society. Whilst we can’t erase the atrocities of the past, we can build a better future, together.

I am proud to be black and to be able to reflect on some amazing role models throughout history that have carved a path for me and others like me. Rosa Parks is inspirational, being sick and tired of being sick and tired and taking action to address this, regardless of the personal consequences (Rosa along with the Suffragettes and Martin Luther King Jr are reasons I always vote – they didn’t have a chance but fought for me to be afforded the opportunity!). Nelson Mandela, Barack Obama, Lewis Hamilton, Oprah Winfrey and so many more.

Moving forward – what can we do?

While it is no longer right to suggest that people of colour should be colour-blind as I had been in my past, there is an issue to be acknowledged, and it’s not just within the police force.

Within the world of academia we can start to challenge previously held values and positively attempt to de-colonise the curriculum and institutional norms. We can challenge the status quo and show leadership by respecting alternative perspectives and embedding them within our learning and teaching.

Anonymous marking does not mitigate BAME students being adversely affected in the unexplained/unexplainable grade differences. There are so many occasions where black people are disproportionately affected – underrepresented in positions of authority, overrepresented in mental health statistics, suicides, in prisons, in police deaths.

I ask that collectively we continue to challenge things that we can change. My plea is that you contribute in a way that is comfortable for you. Continue to ask about attainment gaps and the institution’s response, about decolonising the curriculum, about the recruitment and progression of black staff. I ask that students engage with their local Students’ Association and become Student Voice Reps and stand in the elections and engage in sports teams and societies.

“If you can see it, you can be it” and I’m here to hopefully show that it may take some time but there is and will always be a place for us if we keep pushing. And if you can’t see it, I ask you find the strength to forge your own path and to push yourself to achieve – for your own sake but also remembering that there are others admiring you from afar.

I hope you have an enjoyable Black History Month and beyond.


Your Students’ Association offers UHI students the opportunity to join Student Networks that provide a nurturing environment where individuals with diverse backgrounds and interests can come together to celebrate their unique identities and experiences. They offer a safe space for students to explore their passions, values, and cultural heritage.  Click here to find out what networks are available.