MUNROE MAKING HERSTORY
Activist and model Munroe Bergdorf in conversation with BBC Radio 1 presenter Clara Amfo on standing against injustice, the power of sisterhood and the importance of allies
Doing the right thing is rarely an easy path to walk, especially for those whose every step can come with dozens (or hundreds, or even thousands) of voices shouting you down for speaking your truth. Even as an openly queer adult, I have experienced times when I’ve dulled my identity. For example, when confronted by a group of loud straight men, I have in the past regretted wearing an outfit that made my ‘gayness’ seem so apparent. I’ve even dimmed myself in past situations to be more acceptably presented to a heterosexual male viewpoint. It’s not right, but that has been the case.
I do try not to compromise my identity, and these moments are thankfully few and far between. But the reality is that, as much as the world is a better place today than, say, 20 years ago, it’s still far from ideal for anybody who doesn’t fit into the dominant mainstream. I’m also acutely aware of my privilege. Although my maleness might not fit into a traditionally heterosexual expectation of masculinity, being male means I’m not a victim of misogyny. The fear I might feel when walking past a group of boisterous straight lads is not on the same level as that a woman may experience in the same situation. Also, my whiteness means I am not having to negotiate racial stereotypes, or in some cases profiling. These two factors are what we call white male privilege.
It’s not easy to discuss privilege, especially as gay men, because we too have often been the victims of a prejudiced society. But white (and gay) male privilege is real, and unless we talk about it, we can’t confront it, look to resolve it, and move past it towards a fairer world.
The past 18 months have highlighted the disparity in privilege between the haves and have-nots, whether it’s the mental health inequalities faced by LGBTQ+ people during the pandemic, or the fall-out from George Floyd’s murder — a situation that has been hundreds of years in the making, even if great strides forward have happened since then.
Four years ago, reacting to the Charlottesville white supremacy rallies, Munroe Bergdorf made international headlines when the Daily Mail took offence to her comments that white people benefitted from the privilege of whiteness, and that the traditional ways of viewing racism did not reflect the lived experiences of people of colour today. The newspaper — as it’s often inclined to do — took Munroe’s comments out of context, followed by (mostly white and male) commentators adopting the tone of the victim. Her comments sparked a debate about how the voices of Black and female and trans women are often silenced, while there is a tendency for the British right wing to defend free speech for white male opinions without fear of reprisal. (See Piers Morgan, Jacob Rees-Mogg, conversion therapist Mike Davidson, Nigel Farage, et al.)
It was depressingly ironic that the situation resulted in Munroe being dropped from a L’Oréal campaign that claimed to celebrate diversity. Last year, when L’Oréal made a public statement in support of Black Lives Matter after George Floyd’s murder, Munroe called the brand out. The makeup giant recognised its epic past failure, and invited the activist to work with them on its new Diversity and Inclusion board. It was the kind of resolution we rarely see, but when we do it’s a win for Team LGBTQ+ and racial equality.
“It was tough, but we hadn’t even really had these conversations about authenticity,” Munroe says of the situation. “When I signed on to work with L’Oréal, there weren’t any trans people of colour in the British media. There was just none. But I do feel like the dial has changed and true authenticity is now being revered and given its time to shine.”
One of the first people to stand by Munroe was BBC Radio 1 presenter Clara Amfo. (If you’ve not been blessed to hear her on the radio, be sure to listen in when Clara takes over the primetime Radio 1 spot of 6-8pm, Monday to Thursday from September. Her music taste is honey for the ears.) Clara followed Munroe in stepping down from the L’Oréal campaign, a show of support that helped Munroe cope at a time when she was being barraged by trolls, with threats of violence and rape filling her DMs.
Last year, in reaction to George Floyd’s death, Clara made an impassioned speech on Radio 1, stating: “We, Black people, get the feeling that people want our culture, but they do not want us… you want my talent, but you do not want me.” Her comments acutely captured the feelings of millions of Black British people and non-Black POC alike.
This issue, Clara joins Munroe in conversation to dissect the social changes of the past few years, and share how their common experiences have brought them together.
When did Clara meet Munroe?
Clara Amfo: You know what, I was literally just thinking that this second, and I’m, like, when the hell did we first meet? I can’t remember if it was in the club, or if it was when we first got booked for ‘that campaign’. Everybody is so hyper visible and the way in which you make friends these days has changed. You can become aware of somebody before you even meet them face to face socially.
Munroe Bergdorf: I remember when we first hung out, which was 2018.
CA: I distinctly remember going to a Pxssy Palace night.
MB: I’ve always felt very thankful to you because you were one of the first people in the public eye to stand up for me at a time when I really needed it, and at a
“When you see something that isn’t right, stand up and speak out, especially if you’ve got a platform or some form of privilege” Munroe Bergdorf
time when it wasn’t popular to speak out. We’re in a very different time now, where people’s voices get a lot more space to discuss topics that we’ve never discussed before. I was in a position where I needed a friend and you definitely provided that. So, thank you, Clara.
It was a major moment for L’Oréal to come back years later and then say, ‘No, we did wrong and we’re moving forward.’ How did that feel for you to have that moment of exoneration in a way that doesn’t happen very often?
MB: It means a lot to me for the situation to have found a resolution and resolve. I don’t like to have bad blood with anyone, personally or professionally, so I’m happy we can both move forward together. I’ve been working with L’Oréal for a few months now, sitting on their Diversity and Inclusion board. It’s an honour to have a seat at the table of one of the biggest beauty brands in the world and to be a vocal advocate for queer, trans women of colour and beyond. I definitely learned a lot about myself during that time and a lot about my own community and society as a whole. People who are invested in racism or inequality definitely took it and ran with it. It was a very difficult situation to come out the other side of. I feel like I’m only now getting to do what I want to do and work with the people that I want to work with and stand in a room confidently.
CA: To see you publicly get that apology and the pressure that was applied, honestly, my heart sang for you. I didn’t think that was ever going to happen. To see them take accountability, and then also with that, offer you this role, I think this is the change that we want to see. There’s nuance to everything. I don’t think they were even placating you or pacifying you by giving you this role. It was more like, “This is what should be happening.”
How did it feel, Munroe, to have somebody like Clara as your support?
MB: It’s what I needed. I needed somebody from my own community, and a friend as well, to basically stand up. I think that’s what we mean when we talk about allyship, isn’t it? When you see something that isn’t right, stand up and speak out, especially if you’ve got a platform or some form of privilege. Sometimes that can really change the course of how somebody is dealing with that situation or the wider sense of how people view that situation. And that can change the dial or push the needle forward. For me, it was personally really, really important and affirming that a fellow Black woman and somebody who wasn’t a trans person, someone from my community but not my direct intersections as well, it was sisterhood in action.
CA: Love you… love you dearly.
What do you admire about each other?
CA: Oh, my gosh. Munroe, to this day, is one of the most fearless people I’ve ever met in my life. Fearlessness is feeling scared, but doing it anyway. That is real fearlessness. That to me is what Munroe is. I’m sure there have been times when you’ve been, fuck, I don’t know if I should do this or if I should say it, but in your gut, you feel, no, I have to do this. I have to say this. That to me is so impressive. You’re somebody that is actively, as you live and breathe, changing culture.
And you, Munroe on Clara?
MB: Clara is a national treasure, period. When I was growing up, there were very few Black women on British TV. To see a Black woman represented, and somebody who is just so warm — I just want to hang out with her all the time. Whenever I see her on TV, I forget that you’re my actual friend. I’m just, like, Clara Amfo is so cool. I feel like you are affirming an entire generation of young Black girls that have constantly been told certain spaces aren’t for them, especially when it comes to an institution which is very white, such as the BBC. To be holding it down within that institution and doing so, so well and to see your journey going from intern to fronting Annie Mac’s slot is massive. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of you that we’re friends, but also I love watching you as a fan.
You mentioned before about intersectional identities. I guess both of you have had a journey towards embracing your various identities.
CA: Gosh. It’s so many things. When you grow up not being society’s default, the otherness is just ingrained. I think we’ve both been able to transform that feeling of otherness into power rather than a hindrance. When I say hindrance, it’s other people’s problem, not ours. Me being a woman and me being a Black woman has never been a problem for me; it’s been other people’s problem. And how I’ve been expected to react to that, whether it’s by being obedient, essentially, or just knowing my place in my lane or wherever, that’s been where the battle has ensued. Definitely, I’ve never felt more confident about who I am. I don’t have the energy to be polite in the face of what is systemically not in our corner. I don’t have the time for it any more. When I said what I said on my show in June [2020], that to me was a liberating moment. People only sometimes want to enjoy the fun bits of your Blackness. It’s like, I’m sure with queer culture, people love to use your slang, say “I fucking love Pose.” Or “Oh my God, I love Drag Race.” It’s all well and good using slang and wanting to watch certain programmes and be involved in some club scenes, but at the end of the day, if I’m
“Munroe, to this day, is one of the most fearless people I’ve ever met in my life” Clara Amfo
down in the trenches, are you going to be by my side or not?
MB: Period. For me, power comes when you stop believing what society tells you about your intersections, and start actually believing in yourself and what you can do. I didn’t believe in myself. I’ve always pushed myself way past my comfort zone; I’ve had to, because I’ve always been very visibly queer, so I’m used to being in situations where I’m on a high alert, but I will push myself to do it. Walking through the corridors every single day in school was hard enough as a kid that came out as gay at 14. I was bullied throughout my entire school experience. So because of that, I’m used to the Piers Morgans of the world. I’m used to being bullied in the conservative press. I’m used to social media trolls. I think that that’s truly why I can hack it, is because I’m used to existing under duress.
Whatever I’ve been through in the public eye, I’ve been through ten times worse. Cliff, you knew me at a time when I was not doing OK. I was partying a lot. I wasn’t happy. I was really struggling. We hadn’t had the conversations that we have now about transitioning. There was not the respect or the recognition of humanity for trans people that there is now. I grew up on the gay scene and all of my chosen family were gay and queer and trans. It was extremely difficult because, even within my own community, there wasn’t an understanding of trans-ness. Trans people were joked about all the time within our own community. It was very difficult. I’ve been able to access my power by making sure that I generate my own power, that I’m not looking for it in external ways, and I’m not trying to fill a void with partying or superficial things. We’ve all got the capacity to change the world in one way or another. I’m just trying to do my bit with the time that I’ve got.
I think if you’ve got privilege and a
platform, it’s a great shame if you choose not to use it. It’s different if you can’t. Is that “can’t” personal? Can you really not? Or is it more because you don’t want to? Activism can come in so many different forms. You don’t need to be speaking out all the time. If you can’t speak out, then donate your time or donate your resources. The best form of activism is using what you have an abundance of. If you’ve got time, then give your time. If you’ve got skills, then give your skills or talents, organisational skills; or if you’re good with numeracy, then help with accounting. You can help with anything. At least do something. I think it’s a great shame when people have the means to, and don’t.
CA: One of my biggest pet hates is when people say, “I’m not one for politics.” You know what? Everything kind of is. I had a conversation about Afro hair inequality years ago. I remember somebody saying, “Oh my God, it’s just hair. Why are you turning it political?” You can say that because you don’t have Afro hair. You don’t understand what it is to have your hair judged and policed in a particular way. Apathy from anybody in the public eye is one of my biggest pet hates. The risk or just the fear of not being liked — can’t stand it. You’re going to lose some followers because you think that Black lives matter? Sorry about it, but come on!
What about representation and why it matters in fashion, music, media?
CA: I’ve definitely noticed the shifts. Haven’t you, Munroe?
MB: Yeah, definitely, 100 per cent, even how people feel. I think that we’ve gone through a lot in the past four years. I think Trump and Brexit, George Floyd, all of these really big, public, formative moments that have been talking points across the Atlantic, I feel like we’re now in a different place. A lot of what was being skirted around or tiptoed around is now undeniable. It goes all the way through, doesn’t it… all identities. You can’t just hire queer people in the campaign during Pride.
CA: Exactly.
MB: It needs to be all year round because it gives the impression that we are a major minority and that’s simply not true. That’s definitely not going to be true in the future: 66 per cent of Generation Z identify as straight, which is the lowest percentage in history — under half of Generation Z identify as queer, which is amazing.
What barriers have you guys encountered in your career, and how did you overcome them? MB: Honestly, for me, it was getting out of my own way and I needed to not listen to what I was being told about myself, about women like me, about what was possible because it hadn’t been done before. When I started my transition, there was just no resources out there. I didn’t know what I was doing. Now, you look on YouTube and there’s so many trans influencers and so many trans people that are so visible in aspirational positions in the media, or just in society as well. I think we need to remember that just seeing trans people do normal things pushes us forward. We don’t all need to be starring in hit shows or be TV presenters, or whatnot.
It’s about equality and seeing trans people throughout society in all different kinds of ways and seeing how different we all are. I feel like that’s amazing. But when I started my transition, there was a very narrow idea of what it meant to be a trans woman. That’s exacerbated by the healthcare system as well, because to be diagnosed as having gender dysphoria, you need to meet a specific criteria, which means that you’re pushed into a very narrow view of who you are and what you can achieve.
That’s why our healthcare, as trans people, needs to evolve. It needs to expand. We as trans people need to be in charge of our own healthcare, because only we know what it means to be trans and how it feels to be trans. It was a lot of people telling me who I was, from my own community, from the healthcare system, from the education system, that I had just come out of. And constantly being catcalled and then facing the threat of violence from men in the street. It was just a lot. Then, I just managed to find a space of calm within myself. Once I thought, why did things need to be this way? I don’t actually think these things about myself. I’ve been told to think them, and if I’ve learned them, then I can let them go.
I think that that’s what racism is as well. It’s what you’ve been told to think. Once you start thinking for yourself, and once you know who you are as a person, you don’t need to have those thought processes any more. Racism is laziness. It’s subscribing to a national identity and you’re then lashing out at anything that threatens that narrow view of who you are. I was battling my own form of that in how society had conditioned me to view myself. I guess it was internalized racism, internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia and internalized misogyny. In understanding that I didn’t need to think those things about myself, I was able to access happiness and success. What about your own barriers, Clara?
CA: Listening to Munroe’s, I completely feel and relate to everything you were saying. It’s weird. I’ve had people say no to me in
“Clara is affirming an entire generation of young Black girls that have been told certain spaces aren’t for them” Munroe Bergdorf
very covert and in blatant ways, but that’s ultimately never stopped me. I think I too have actually been my own biggest barrier by internalizing other people’s projections of what they expect from me and being like, oh no, maybe I can’t do it. I think that’s why I gravitate towards you [Munroe] and why I relate to you.
I used to do this voiceover job and they converted the voiceover job into a televised show. Bear in mind, I’d done this job for ages. I was, like, OK, great. This is going to be it. This is going to be a really good break for me. I know I can present this show in vision. Wicked. Let’s go for it. They went for a very pretty, English rose, white girl for the job. I was more experienced than this person. I’d known this format like the back of my hand. I remember thinking that if I had looked like her and had my skillset, there would have been no issue about me being the front of that show.
It was those moments that just reminded me of, wow, you’ve really got to work twice as hard, or you’re going to have to begrudgingly accept some ails, because it’s just not going to be set out for you like that. I don’t have the privilege to be pretty and basic and get away with it (laughs). I wish I could, but I’m not afforded that luxury in my identity.
MB: I feel exactly the same. When you are a minority of a minority, there’s so little that you can get away with, that other people that don’t share your intersections can do. When you’re a minority, you’re just held to such a high standard that you need to be the exceptional Black trans woman. You can’t just be you and be seen as a whole person. Everything needs to be elevated.
CA: I’ve seen quite a few articles around this, the whole notion of Black excellence. I understand the intentions of it are positive, of how it started, but I think it’s just become a bit of a fallacy as well.
MB: It’s not sustainable. You cannot keep pushing yourself to the point where everything has to be better than your white peer.
CA: For sure. I’ve been in my own way because — I don’t want to use the word mistake because it’s not a mistake — there were times where I wasn’t strong enough to not internalize other people’s executing of societal fuckery, essentially. When that person got a job over me, I remember I was so gutted. I was so gutted, but then I also thought, but of course, of course it happened. I think now, if something similar were to happen to me, I’d be like, OK, I get it. It’s all right.
Why is it important for cis women to be trans allies?
CA: Speaking for myself personally, speaking broadly, I just don’t know how you can’t be. I don’t know if that sounds really basic, but it’s fundamental human rights. If somebody is telling you, “This is who I am,” you have to listen. I’ve been around trans women since I was about 11 or 12. There used to be this woman who worked in my local town called Kate. She was my gateway of education into what trans people are. She worked in this local games figurine shop — I ended up working with her. It’s just recognising people’s humanity. I think that’s why it’s important. As basic as it sounds, that’s the only way for me to explain it, just recognising the humanity in people, because, Munroe, as you were saying, the perception of trans people and particularly trans women from what I’ve seen and what I’ve learned from you and other trans women was so limited, even three or four years ago. It was hypersexualized. It was criminalized. People failed to see the human being there.
MB: It’s important for cis women to be trans allies, especially from the perspective of us both being women, because as women, we all experience misogyny. I think when cis women aren’t trans allies, we don’t eradicate misogyny. We just redirect it.
CA: You’re being a total agent of it, essentially.
MB: You’re acting again in the same way that the patriarchy acts. You can’t be against someone’s identity. It’s one thing saying that we’re physically different. Yes, cis women and trans women are physically different, but we are not just physical. Human beings and the legacy of humanity, it’s not just a physical experience. What makes us human is our ability to feel, our consciousness and who we are; the complexity and the intricacies of who we are as individuals. We’re not just men and women. There’s so many spectrums and scales there. I think that when you deny somebody’s identity because it’s not the same as your physicality, you’re missing the depth of what it means to be human.
CA: Absolutely. It also just boils down to privilege. There’s no which way about it. If I’m in a room and somebody’s chatting shit about trans people, and there’s other cis women in there and nobody is saying anything, again, it just goes back to what you were saying about just being an agent of prejudice.
MB: It’s not just about speaking up when other people can see it, it’s about speaking up when there’s no one around, when there’s no social media there, and it’s just about doing the right thing.
“I grew up on the gay scene and all of my chosen family were gay and queer and trans. Even within my own community, there wasn’t an understanding of trans-ness. Trans people were joked about all the time” Munroe Bergdorf