I’m a Londoner. I love that I’m a Londoner. Over 250 languages are spoken in London making it the most linguistically diverse city in the world. Truly a global city. I feel like I’m a Londoner first. In a strange way, I feel more Londoner than English. I am Londoner British - if that is a thing.

I was born in London on 30th May 1979. 26 days after Margaret Thatcher became prime minister. I was raised in Lewisham, South East London. I Went to primary school in Forest Hill. From 5 to 11 years old, my friends were James, Curtis, Sam, Trevor, Marvin, Taliba, Andy and Nicola. Marvin’s dad was Maxi Priest and we would sing ‘Wild World’ and ‘Some Guys Have all the Luck’ - the Reggae versions.

The first ‘pop’ song I ever learned all the words to was Winsome & Tippa Irie’s remix of ‘Superwoman’ by Karyn White. Nicola gave me the cassette at school and I played it out until the tape was chewed up by my walkman - I still remember the words to the rap. I cringe at the thought of my 9 year old self rhyming along in my best Jamaican accent. Shabba!

For secondary school, I was awarded an ‘assisted place’ from Thatcher’s government to attend Eltham college. I was in year 9 when Steven Lawrence was murdered 1.8 miles away. No one at the school ever mentioned it or the institutional police racism that followed. I only remember consciously noticing race when I went to secondary school. Until then I had been a boy from Lewisham - attended a multicultural school (not that I knew what multiculturalism was yet), I shopped with my mum at markets in Lewisham and Deptford High Street and listened to Beenie Man, Shut Up and Dance, General Levy (and Rick Astley) on my walkman. That became ‘different’ at Eltham College. The school was ‘private’. It was nearly all white and a number of children were picked up at the end of the school day by the family driver! From 12 to 15 years old, my friends were Terry, Rob and Damien. I didn’t really like Guns and Roses or Nirvana although I tried to pretend that I did. Casual bullying and general unkindness was the dominant culture and after 4 and a half years of hiding out in the art room (shout out to Mr Agate who kept me safe and inspired during my generally unhappy time at ‘big school’), Eltham College finally showed me mercy and asked me to leave. I achieved some okay-ish GCSE results. The school always insisted that I should be grateful for the incredible opportunity to learn at a prestigious private school on the government’s dollar, yet the truth is, I have always felt pretty ashamed of my stint at private school. I did not feel particularly white or privileged prior to my assisted place at Eltham College and I am not at all grateful for the experience of ‘specialness’ or elitism that I was all too often reminded to appreciate.

Getting ‘rejected’ from Eltham was the best thing that could have happened to me. I was accepted to Christ the King sixth form college in Lewisham where I studied English Literature and Media Arts. I was encouraged to be a student leader and became chair of the student council, but more importantly, I was comfortable and ‘at home’. From 16 to 18 years old, my friends were Dave, Julian, Shaun and Melany. I went from ‘ungrateful yob’ at one of the highest achieving schools in the country to a confident, leading student at a proud, proper and purposeful community college. I met the local MP and had work published in college and community publications. My time at this college was now enhanced by a conscious awareness, and increasingly mature understanding, of the vitality and creative dynamism present in diverse environments. I now consciously realised that multiculturalism was a real thing, it was vibrant and I liked it. It was at this time that I decided that (if I could get a degree) I wanted to be a teacher in a comprehensive London school. I went from often feeling thick and defensive in secondary school to actually wondering if I could be a clever person, an academic... at college I became intellectually ambitious.

During my college years, my family relocated to Camden in North London and after a short period of imposter syndrome (believe me, the north-south London divide is a surprisingly big deal), Camden became home. I stayed in north London and completed my degree in communications and culture. The international mashup of Holloway Road was my new ‘manor’. From 19 to 21 years old, my friends were Tim, Miguel, Michelle, Kai, Ali and Tamara. I was introduced to the intellectual works of Hall, Smith, Baldwin, Williams, Jefferson, Hooks and Butler. I discovered a blossoming UK hip hop scene in Camden and began to follow Asaviour, Jehst, Harry Love, Tommy Evans, Doc Brown, Mr Thing, Mystro, TY, Estelle and Essa. When I left uni, I started writing and rhyming again (now hopefully a little less cringy than my initial attempts as a nine year old). Over the next 12 years, I became a slam poetry winner and took shows to Edinburgh Fringe, Camden Fringe and various festivals and performed with Apples and Snakes including alongside poets such as Raymond Antrobus, Riz Ahmed, Dizraeli, Jacob Sam Le Rose, Musa Okwonga, Kate Tempest and Zena Edwards.

During this time, I taught as a comprehensive teacher in various North London Schools and achieved my Masters degree in new media. From 23 to 35 years old, my friends were Quinney, Pete, Jinadu, Eric, Kate, Emma, John, Steve, Jek, Fenella, Jonny, Gareth. Fast forward a bit more and at 42, I am a headteacher at a creative arts academy for the culture industry. We now have partnerships with Apples and Snakes, the Mobo Awards, the Royal Opera House, BBC, Elstree Studios, Sky, ScreenSkills, the NFTS. We are a leading academy in the creative arts. And most recently we have become a designated UK Centre of Screen Excellence, working with the support of the BFI, to increase access and opportunity for diverse young people under-represented in the creative industries. In so many ways, I feel like my life story appropriately leads here. From my childhood experience of purposeful, inclusive, community school to my study of media, culture and communications and through my creative work in poetry, performance and production and finally into school leadership. All those friends… all those influences… all those diverse ideas and sounds... all that London.

So why the rather long memoir? Why tell the story of my formative years, why blog about my career? Well it could be a little self indulgence, a bit of pride leaking out, but actually some of my story comes with awkwardness and a certain amount of cringe. In fact, I was inspired to write this blog because I listened to David Harewood on the radio this morning. I listened to him speak about his experience of growing up in the UK as a child of parents who came here on the Windrush on 22nd June 1948 - 73 years ago today. I heard him talk about his experience of trauma, racism, disillusionment and creative success. It made me think of my London story. I’ve recently read ‘Natives’ by Akala who references some of the same parts of North and South London that I have lived in. Both David Harewood and Akala talk about the bravery and resilience of those who travelled on the Windrush to make their life’s contribution here - to rebuild this nation after the war, to serve in our hospitals and public services, to bring us culture and art, music and style.

Reflecting on my story as a child in Lewisham and as a young man in Camden, I am struck by how enriched I am by the diversity and dynamism of this incredible city. How such a mashup of styles and influences has inspired me and added to my insight and how the fruit of the Windrush pioneers and their children has made special and valued contributions to my identity as a Londoner. While that appreciation is often in me as I listen to my music or walk through my city, I don’t consciously express my gratitude enough. Thank you to the Windrush pioneers. Sorry for the unacceptable absence of welcome and appreciation. Sorry for the trauma of racism you endured when you tried to set up life following our invitation to come. Sorry for continued arrogance and absent mindedness as we take for granted the beauty of the diverse and dynamic tapestry that is our London. Thank you for your invaluable contribution.

Chris Mitchell, Londoner - 22nd June 2021

A reflective memoir on Windrush day.