- written by Kevin Arulrajah
If you were to ask me about the recent examples of racism in British football, I would be lying if I told you I was shocked. The parallels between football and society finally seem to be intersecting, however, the issues are deep-rooted and we're only scraping the surface.
Last Saturday England-footballer Raheem Sterling was a victim of racial abuse from Chelsea fans who do not fit the typical hooligan criteria, but yet again the media failed to point out the most important factor when reporting such events. That the individuals were white, and middle class. Indicating this isn't just a working class problem.
Rather than dwelling on the abuse, Sterling used his platform to point out how the UK media continue to negatively report on black footballers and – crucially – how this fuels aggressive and racist behaviour. Comparing two different headlines, one that praises a young white footballer for buying a £2 million house for his mother, with another headline that creates a polar opposite narrative for a young black player doing the same thing, suggesting that he is recklessly spending his money before he has started a premier league match.
“Both have done the right thing,” Sterling commented on his Instagram. “Which is to buy a new house for their mothers who have put in a lot of time and love into helping them get where they are, but look how the newspapers get their message across for the young black player and then for the young white payer. I think this is unacceptable, both innocent, have not done a thing wrong but just by the way it has been worded.”
Ultimately, being a person of colour, there’s one question that runs through my mind when I read about events like this: do white people even care? And I don’t apologise if that question offends you. Look back at recent events like Grenfell: still no justice for the victims. Brexit: how immigration was a focal point yet only 35 words on the mobility of people between the UK and EU in the prime minister’s Brexit deal (LOL). And how the national media continues to demonise Muslims but when domestic terrorism occurs the individual is portrayed as mentally ill rather than using religion or race as a narrative.
You know what, I should be grateful, it’s 2018 and there’s an activist and hashtag somewhere to empower anything and everything under the sun. But who is actually making a difference for the people in their communities?
England legend John Barnes told the BBC this week in response to the abuse directed at Sterling: “It didn't surprise me because black people go through invisible banana skins being thrown at them and unspoken racial abuse every day of their lives.”
I took the time to interview my good friend and talented writer Calum Jacobs to find out how publishing a magazine about football and race can help tackle these issues and bring awareness to the problem. Established a little over a year ago, CARICOM magazine sprang from a need to see football and fan culture examined through the under-explored lens of the black experience in Great Britain and beyond.
What are the biggest challenges of running a magazine like CARICOM?
I would say by far the biggest challenge has been the day-to-day running of the magazine. Up to this point I’ve managed every aspect of it; from the nuts and bolts stuff like individually posting copies out to consumers, locating and pestering stockists to take allocations, and the marketing schema to the creative side, which entails coming up with ideas for editorial content, commissioning art and writing and maintaining contact with a sprawling web of supporters, creatives and contacts.
Beyond that, on the occasions I do lean on others, I’ve had to learn not to expect them to operate with my pace and intensity – I’m a bit of a workaholic and I’m constantly thinking about ways to grow the magazine.
My friend Kazim Rashid gave me some great advice in the summer when he said: “Calum, this is your journey, you should be grateful when others pitch in, but you shouldn’t expect it.” That was hard to hear, and I hope that situation can change, but it was a good maxim to live by as I pulled everything together for issue 2 of CARICOM.
Do you believe CARICOM can positively change the football Industry?
I don’t think it can. From the boardroom, to the terraces, to the gantry that houses journalists every weekend to the dugout and the coaches that staff clubs and academies, football is aggressively white. It has been designed this way. So far, football has refused the Rooney rule [a rule that requires league teams to interview ethnic-minority candidates for head coaching and senior football operation jobs], and any advancement of that conversation is quickly shot down by white fans who, either consciously or subconsciously, do not want to see their dominance challenged. This hegemony is constructed by a narrative of designed exclusion. I can name five football writers who aren’t white, I refuse to believe that’s simply incidental, and so should everyone else. But to answer the question, I think expecting a magazine run by one individual to make any impact on this industry is purely fanciful. However, I am trying to micro-influence and hope it spreads out from there.
Really, the key is getting white people to take on some of this work. To ask a marginalised and maligned group to take on the burden of changing the perception society has formed around them is massively unfair and unrealistic.
How important is creative execution to CARICOM?
Creative execution is vital. Football culture writing is a crowded field, and while there are no magazines with CARICOM’s USP there are lots of similarly attractive ones. But I personally relish taking on publications with far larger budgets and attempting to beat them, so far I think CARICOM is more than holding its own.
Can you give us an insight into your creative process (writing and commissioning)?
My background is in editorial and insight work, so while I like to think my ideas are organic, lucid and informed by wider social conversations and discussions I have with friends, I am also very systematic in my approach. You absolutely have to be to make any progress, especially when you’re pretty much going it alone.
To use this second issue as a case study, I broke it down into four sections, or themes, which would house three or four articles each. These themes were: critical resistance, legacy, celebration as activism and reconciliation. Each of these themes allows for a different compilation of features and ideas.
In the case of commissioning art, while I’m by no means an art director, my close relationship with the writing – whether I’ve written it or not – allows me to visualise quickly what will enhance the reading experience and make it more impactful. There is no science to this aspect of the process, you just have to trust yourself, afford the contributing artist continual guidance and care deeply about the outcome. I think that last point is crucial.
Previously working in the creative industry, did you face any similar challenges to the ones written about in the magazine?
I actually haven’t faced any significant challenges beyond raising money, and even that has allowed supporters to coalesce around CARICOM’s cause. We all know – or I hope we do – that the creative industries have a “diversity problem” (I’m yet to work in an office or co-working space that wasn’t overwhelmingly white) but that’s why I chose to leave and start CARICOM. Now I only have to confront limitations when I sit with brands or people outside the natural remit of what I’m trying to achieve.
If you mean have I been stereotyped, stopped by the police for no good reason, held to standards no white man would ever be held to and denied entry into worlds I want to inhabit, then the answer is yes, absolutely. Most black people have if you ask them.
CARICOM is the first magazine of its kind. Were you surprised at all by feedback and responses you received from issue one? Did you receive any backlash?
I was surprised mildly. The magazine was incredibly niche and written entirely by one person. By rights, it ought to have fallen flat when you think about it like that. However, I think lots of people were waiting for this who identified with what I was saying – and by extension doing – and were grateful to see it chronicled in one place. I obviously benefited from the emergence of the Black Lives Matter movement and a resurgence of young black people no longer willing to stand by and see white supremacy negatively impact upon their life chances.
I was really happy that so many white people have shown continual support because although I am not writing an educational manual, they are the people who need to read this. I’m not telling minorities anything they don’t already know.
I haven’t encountered any backlash yet, which is surprising given how effective white fragility can be when challenged. I mean people still decry the existence of The MOBO Awards and claim “reverse racism” so for a magazine about football to come out – bearing in mind football is a white cultural product - and not be attacked is a marvel. I reckon a large part of that reason is that CARICOM is small. If it had a larger circulation I think the hate would flow in. Which, when you think about it, is both really sad and an indictment on the society we live in.
What are your long-term plans for CARICOM?
I haven’t really thought beyond the second issue. I want it to do well and to impact positively. Long term I have ideas to broaden the scope of CARICOM, but they can’t be realised without serious investment or a sustainable financing model. This might be the last print edition ever, so grab it while you can is my advice.
Who would you say is the most progressive football team in this current climate and why?
I don’t know that I’m qualified to say, probably a non-league team who exist beyond the clutches of the sheer avarice that dictates the decisions made by larger clubs. I’ll say Stonewall FC.
Last summer, CARICOM collaborated with Nike to creatively interpret the England shirt. How did the Nike project come about?
A brand manager from Nike contacted me and told me he felt CARICOM would be a great fit for the White Shirt Project, I agreed. Though special mention must go to Tottenham Textiles who allowed us complete creative control with the design process. I think it was worthwhile overall and brought us to the attention of a new audience.
What other brands would you like to collaborate with and why?
I’m not really interested in working with brands, though I’m flattered they feel aligning themselves with CARICOM makes sense from a marketing perspective. I’ll admit I am quite wary of brands as none really operate altruistically. But they are filling a gap where arts funding is failing, hence why so many creatives are working with them, they’ve got the money.
What can we look forward to in the second issue of CARICOM?
It’s really broad.
We’re examining the importance of allyship by looking at Arsene Wenger’s relationship with George Weah and his advocacy of black players, discussing the media portrayal of black players with Lubaina Himid through her ongoing artworks 'Negatives Positives', talking to Salomon Kalou about his career, being a citizen of the world and formative years in the Ivory Coast, Musa Okwonga (the Guardian, The New York Times, The New Statesman) has written a piece about being a bisexual black man who played for Stonewall FC.
In addition to all of that, CARICOM 2 will carry a supplementary pamphlet, “The CARICOM Guide to Black Male Mental Health”. Written by the co-founder of the Over The Bridge Podcast, Kwaku Dapaah-Danquah, the guide outlines the way society uniquely maligns the black male psyche, before offering universal techniques for alleviating feelings of isolation, anxiety and non-clinical depression.
There's also several photo series; one is based in Mozambique, one is from Ghana...
I’ve also written a long, long thesis about British society’s unwillingness to accept blackness in its truest forms. I use football to do that and it’s also accompanied by a photo series that was shot around London (Peckham, Brixton, Tottenham).