Sunshine, Mist & Flags
Early this morning I was in the comments section of a post in a new local Facebook group ‘Families Against Fascism’. The post was from an individual in Brighton keen to take down some flags that have been hung 5m high on lampposts throughout the area they live in.
The person posting had stated that they would have to take the flags down during the day as they have young kids. Within the comments of ‘I’ll help’ ‘I’ll bring my ladder’ and the like was two from my friend Nina, urging caution in regard to personal safety. Saying that she had heard that these flags had been put up by scaffolders, which is how they have been hung so high. That if they’re going to take them down in daylight, they should wear masks, obscure any car number plates and make sure that they aren’t followed home to minimise any potential threat to them, their families and their property. Nina is a long time activist and knows about this sort of thing. She also pointed out the physical danger of climbing 5m on a propped up ladder.
I added a comment of my own based on a conversation I had in South Heighton at the weekend, where there are also numerous flags hung high on lampposts, attached with cable ties as the Brighton ones have been. ‘They keep getting taken down but they go straight back up again’. In my Facebook comment I too urged caution and supported what Nina had said, I also pointed out that engaging in a flags up flags down battle with racists is going to cause said racists enjoyment. The whole point of the flags is to intimidate and antagonise. How best to respond?
Personally I think our local authorities should be removing the flags and arresting anyone found to be hanging them. I don’t think that removing them should be left to the bullied communities who are being deliberately intimidated. I also think that raising other flags alongside or below or above those already flying would be a positive response, rather than taking down the St George Crosses. A lot of the defenders of the flag raising claim that they are a symbol of national pride, not racism. How they responded to the hanging of the flags of other nations would at least confirm or deny this.
When I was in my twenties I never anticipated facing this in my 50s but I have spent much of the last decade talking with friends about the stark and obvious to us reality to come, what we would term the race wars. And here we are. I’ve actively spoken out against white supremacy during this time and most often in the past been derided and ridiculed for having such an absurd take on our societies and structures of government when naming them for what they are - patriarchal, imperial, colonial, racist. And again, here we are.
My body cannot cope with the mental pressure of what is happening currently and I am in a state of tearful paralysis when on days off. I permanently feel like I am coming down with a cold. I have spots on my face and ulcers in my mouth. I cannot sleep and when I do my dreams are fevered and exhausting. The only activities I am able to eagerly engage in are playing games on my phone and eating - occasionally I manage a jigsaw and a bit of knitting. I am deep in depression right now and I worry about my ability to crawl myself out. I tried going back on anti anxiety meds but that didn’t work out for me this time. I also know that re engaging with regular exercise will help a lot, I am working on pulling myself out of this hole and into a better place, so please do not worry. I have friends and a partner and family and a therapist who are all supporting me.
Things I cannot bear - the obvious absurdity of our government recognising the state of Palestine whilst actively funding and aiding the genocidal destruction of its population. The head spinning revulsion of our ridiculous, outdated Royal Family hosting the convicted sex offender President in Windsor Castle while his system of government dismantles the civil liberties of every historic ‘minority’ in America, causing the death of women forced to carry toxic pregnancies, tearing apart families, devastating communities, deliberately imposing a life of fear onto countless millions of people.
Nearer to home I’ve been grappling daily with a situation that’s been really not helping. The man in the unit next to me at work hasn’t spoken to me since mid July. I had asked one of his customers, very politely, to please move his van out of our shared yard and into the car park area a few metres away (an ongoing issue). He refused, told me he had business with my neighbour so why should he move. I pointed out it was inconsiderate to the other businesses in the yard whose entrances he was blocking. He repeated that he didn’t see that he should move. My neighbour did nothing. Now, I am a woman of some years who has throughout her life (as so many others have) dealt with racism and sexism and I know very well when angry little white men are talking to me in a certain way because of the colour of my skin and my gender. ‘That paki woman can’t tell me what to do’ is how I imagine I was at least thought about if not talked about - my mid to light brown skin confuses people and paki is the only racial slur I have ever had thrown at me. It has most often helped me to laugh off the ignorance ‘I’m no paki, I’m part nigger part honky’ but now a combination of my age, my existing PTSD and the extent of active racism on the world stage mean I don’t have it in me right now to laugh and jeer.
I’ve tried to talk to my neighbour, he told me he’d lost his voice and couldn’t speak. I’ve tried messaging him and he’s blocked me on WhatsApp and messenger. Over these weeks I’ve remembered other moments during the two and a half years since I moved in that confirm to me that this current position (hate and avoidance) is the one he would have long preferred. Thankfully his unit has been reclaimed by our landlord and he leaves for good at the weekend. I have been following his progress on Facebook via a profile he doesn’t know I have that hasn’t been blocked. He shares raise the flag sentiment posts, he’s changed his profile picture to one proclaiming ‘made in Great Britain by Great Britain’s’.
The barn we share is remote and it is often just me and him down our end of it. I have never felt physically threatened by him, but I am a sensitive and the energy given off by him in his mirrored glass box is vile. He has cctv cameras that are motion activated. One of my coping tactics has been to start work at 7 so as to get a good 2-3 hours in without him, and I hate knowing that my arrival pings on his phone and he can watch me, if he wants. I heard from a neighbour at the weekend that the cameras and a lot of his branding stickers have come down. This made me cry, as so much does these days, but the relief was immense.
And so to today. I am shortly off to meet a friend for a walk up on the downs in this crisp cool sunshine we’ve been blessed with this morning. I will post a recipe on here this afternoon, I have loads backed up but have been paralysed by my dark mood and unable to think how to frame them in the current climate. I think I needed to post this first because frankly I couldn’t write a single other word about anything at all until I had expressed some of this paralysing poison. I know that there will be some who have switched off and unsubscribed. But I am here cooking the food I do and loving it and sharing it because of who I am, a mixed heritage Londoner with a passion for racial justice and a need to speak of how I see things in this beautiful, agonising world. Thank you for reading. I very much hope that you are doing ok and please feel free to share with me if you are not, I can offer at least a sympathetic ear. Much love as always. Chloe x




Thank you for sharing x
Sending love Chloe & hope that you start to feel safer in your kitchen. These are such sad times xx