The Corridors of Power are not Black

In observance of Black History Month, this week’s column comes from Alison Stoecker, who served at Westminster as Office & Stakeholder Manager to the former Shadow Chancellor John McDonnell MP, 2015 – 2020).

MP Jeremy Corbyn had recently won the Labour Party Leadership, and a sense of hope (or dismay) seemed to permeate the halls; people buzzed with the hopeful intention of real change. After being employed by the UK Labour Party to set up the MP John McDonnell Shadow Chancellor’s Office, I entered the Houses of Parliament (House of Commons and House of Lords) on 2 November 2014 with the privileged position of being employed by a wonderful mentor.

Alison Stoecker with Diane Abbott MP

     The buzz amongst the staff and everyone in the buildings was palpable and tangible as all engaged in diverse and colourful conversations, debates, policy planning, roundtables, committees, rallies, cross-party collaborations, and considerably more! All wings were flapping: right, left and centre – for POWER!

     Walking daily along the green and red corridors of power was a privilege.  I was enveloped in its musty offices adorned in priceless artwork, its labyrinth of halls lined with exquisitely carved wood panelling, as well as being immersed in the Palace’s history – at times overwhelmed by the majesty of fine masonry. Nevertheless, a few intrinsically flawed structures of this age-old establishment, although in plain sight, remained glaringly apparent to only a few of us.

     One is instinctively aware of an accepted code of conduct as an intrinsic conditioned belief being constantly communicated. One’s physiology, clothes, uniform, behaviours, and skin tone are observed; troublesome reminders of being in school. A microcosm of society exhibiting its worst flaws: elitism, bigotry, misogyny, and sexism. Dare I say it? Racism. An unspoken hierarchy that resides in wealth, status, sex and the colour of one’s skin.

     Secondly, few men and women of colour hold senior roles or power positions, particularly people of Afro-Caribbean cultural heritage are rarely seen in senior roles or hold power positions. We are still few and far between, and more often than not, isolated. Many of my BAME (Black, Asian or Minority Ethnic) Parliamentary colleagues did not communicate with other staffers outside of their own offices, and thus notably, the BAME support networks were not widely promoted or advertised.

     Unless one attended an event, it was rare to see large (or even small) numbers of black people gathered or congregating in the public spaces of Parliament.  Mindful of my privileged position in Parliament I endeavoured to provide a platform to marginalised groups of African and Caribbean activists, whenever possible by sponsoring events.  Upon observing the lack of due regard with which predominantly black guests were treated, the only choice left to me was to call attention to the situation, leading to my involvement in setting up and becoming the first (co) Chair of the Labour BAME staff network.

     My action to most, became epitomised as either the workings of  an empowered black feminist or an angry, middle-aged, black woman. I became acutely aware of every racial injustice and all areas where the lack of parity prevailed.  Although becoming more common, it was rare to see senior SPAds & Pads (Special Political Advisers), Heads of Office or positions with a “voice”, held by black people. People of Afro-Caribbean heritage are more commonly seen in Parliament occupying roles in catering, cleaning, security and IT. Yet, it is even rarer to see black British male MPs in Parliament.

     Aversive racism, unconscious bias and glass ceilings are still rife in the Corridors of Power and those paving the path for others to follow suffer more than many might even imagine. We owe them a debt of gratitude.

     In Black History Month, 2021 let us give a nod of recognition to the trailblazers, big and small and celebrate the global magnification of the BLM movement; always mindful that the catalyst of one man’s tragic death in 2020, as in 1968, has empowered us, the descendants of the African diaspora, to unite globally and speak the unspoken, make seen the unseen and make heard the unheard. We are learning how to use our collective voice for positive change.

     Shirley Anstis’s anthology, Black British Member of Parliament in the House of Commons: 22 Stories of Passion, Achievement and Success is a gem. In their personal stories detailing their journey to the corridors of powers, they document their experiences and provide delightful and important insights into the real world of black British politicians.  It is definitely a resource, worthy of sharing and expanding upon.  I have had the pleasure (and pain) of working with some of the Labour MPs who contributed to this important piece of literature. So I leave you with some snapshots and the foreword of Lord Simon Woolley (Founder of Operation Black Vote OBV).

      “ Systemic racial inequalities still persist.  If we are to inspire a generation to follow in our political footsteps and change our world, at a level that goes way beyond party politics, we must have a greater unity amongst ourselves.”