The last few months have been a lot, haven’t they?

Just when we thought things couldn’t shake the world any more than a global pandemic, our screens and feeds were filled with the unforgettable, harrowing video of George Floyd begging for his life, for his mum, for mercy as a ‘cop’ knelt on his neck for 8 minutes 46 seconds.

8 minutes and 46 seconds.

George’s crime? Being suspected (and I repeat suspected) of using a fraudulent $20 note. A group of police officers, trained to protect and disarm, instead took his life on that day. They left his beautiful young daughter without a father and with mental scars for life, and his loving siblings without their brother. All for a $20 note.

A catalyst for change

George Floyd’s murder wasn’t the first murder of a Black person where disgustingly unnecessary force has been used by those meant to protect. Breonna Taylor. Ahmaud Arbery. Elijah McCain. Joy Gardner. There’s a list as long as time itself.

Seeing the look in the ‘cop’s’ eyes as he looked boldly down the lens of the camera, while killing George, spoke volumes. The look said he knew what he was doing, he knew he was being filmed, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he knew he’d get away with it — because in society and history, Black lives have been undervalued for centuries.

The lynching, whippings and white hoods may be less, but racism is still very much alive and kicking.

But what does this have to do with the UK?

Black Lives Matter is a global movement for a reason. George Floyd’s death may have happened across the ocean but racism happens in the UK every day.

To quote Kiki: “For many Black people, the most surprising thing about racism is that anyone is surprised by it.”

My first experience of racism was aged 7. I’d recently taken up the saxophone (I was terrible at it but wanted to be just like my big brother, who was amazing at it).

On the way to school one day, my Mum and I had made it halfway in to the 8-minute journey to school when we realised we’d forgotten my lunchbox. My Mum nipped back and left me to look after the saxophone. As I was standing, waiting and watching the world go by, three older boys appeared who must have been about Year 5. They were shuffling and giggling and then stopped to ask:

“Do you know what a n****r is?”

My naïve and innocent 7-year old self replied honestly “No”, to which they said “It’s you!” and scarpered off laughing.

I will never, ever forget my Mum’s face when she returned and had to try and explain to her confused 7-year old daughter what a ‘n****r’ was. Being the wonderful woman she was, she marched us straight to the headteacher’s office, where he proceeded to tell us I must have been mistaken, and asked if I was sure they’d said that word. I was, of course, resoundingly sure. Because it was the first time I’d ever felt different, the first time I’d ever felt ‘other’ — a first feeling which most Black people will remember to this day.

Up until about a month ago, I’d always thought my experiences of overt racism were minimal.

Sure, a grown man on the table I was serving in a restaurant aged 17 screamed loudly to my fellow waiter: “I don’t mind the Polish. It’s the N****RS I hate” and then claimed he ‘didn’t mean me, just the ones wearing hoodies’ when asked to stop as he’d ruined most of the restaurant’s night and caused me to have a panic attack.

Sure, the odd group of young people cycle past and scream “n****r” in my face when I’m picking up my oat milk from the shop. And yes, there was the time I was out for my friend’s birthday and a grown man spat in my face and called me a “Black b*tch” because I asked him not to touch us inappropriately.

But I hadn’t experienced racism like others, who’d been attacked numerous times or faced chants of racial abuse when they scored goals in Sunday football. I hadn’t been stopped and searched. So I’m one of the lucky ones, right?

What I’ve come to realise over the last month is that our views on what is racism, and isn’t, are part of the issue. I naively believed that because I only had a handful of instances of extreme verbal or physical racist abuse that I was fortunate. But racism rears its ugly head in many ways.

Here are just some of them.

Types of racism

Aversive racism: a form of implicit racism, where people’s unconscious negative beliefs about a certain race cause them to persistently avoid engaging with them.

For example: Ignoring someone or walking away from them because of their race.

Colour blindness: disregarding race or ethnicity, or affirmative action for it, in social interactions.

For example: Saying ‘All lives matter’ or ‘I don’t’ see colour’.

Economic racism: something that causes financial or economic inequality for certain races or ethnic groups. Economic racism can manifest itself through wage gaps, prices or availability of goods and much more.

For example: Having higher car insurance premiums for people of colour.

Institutional racism: racial discrimination that is embedded in our governments, policies, corporations, educational institutions — the very systems in which we live our lives. Stokely Carmichael defined it as “the collective failure of an organisation to provide an appropriate and professional service to people because of their colour, culture or ethnic origin”.

For example: A police officer stopping and searching someone, assuming they’ve done something wrong, because of the colour of their skin.

Internalised racism: when groups that are discriminated against begin to accept society’s racist attitudes and actions towards them and believe their racial group is inferior.

For example: A Black person not believing in themselves or their abilities because of society’s attitudes towards them.

Othering: assuming someone is different or alien because they are not akin to yourself.

For example: Using phrases such as ‘non-white’.

Everyday racism: different to exceptional incidences of racism, like a racially motivated physical attack, everyday racism is often taken-for-granted acts, comments, behaviours or judgements towards others because of their race or ethnicity. These often manifest themselves through microaggressions.

For example: Mocking accents, saying things to Black colleagues that you wouldn’t say to white ones like ‘where are you really from?’

On that note, let’s talk about microaggressions

Firstly, what is a microaggression? The internet is laden with definitions but this one, from Libsguide, sums it up well.

Microaggression: a subtle but offensive comment or action directed at a minority or other nondominant group that is often unintentional or unconsciously reinforces a stereotype: microaggressions such as ‘I don’t see you as Black’.

Microaggressions happen daily. If I had a penny for every time I’d heard ‘you must like this weather’ when it’s sunny (for the record, I was born in a small town in South East England where it rains more days than not) or ‘you don’t sound like you’re Black’, I’d be rich.

The ‘subtle’ and often ‘unintentional’ nature of such comments doesn’t detract from their pain. Not only are they tiring and frequent but every time we’re faced with a microaggression, we’re reminded that we’re seen as ‘other’.

Gina Yashere, the amazing comedian, speaks of a time she went to take her First Class seat on a train and a white woman stopped her and said ‘You do know this is First Class!” to which she brilliantly replied “What is it about me that makes you think I shouldn’t be in First Class?” Gina aptly describes the daily microaggressions people of colour face as ‘death by a thousand cuts’. You know they’re coming, but you don’t know when.

Over the last month, they’ve been rife so I wanted to call out a few of them to discuss why they’re both hurtful and exhausting.

‘All lives matter’ / ‘White lives matter’

Of course all lives matter. All jobs also matter, but, for the last couple of months, we’ve been focused on NHS and keyworkers’ jobs. Why? Because they needed our focus most. That’s not to say that non-frontline roles aren’t important, but they haven’t been risking and facing death or the struggles of the NHS.

When asked to go outside at 8pm and clap for the NHS, we didn’t contend ‘but all lives matter’ or ‘office workers matter’ — we went outside and united for a worthy cause, whether we ourselves worked for the NHS or not.

Other viruses matter too, but us focusing on protecting ourselves from the dangers of coronavirus because of its prevalence right now doesn’t take away from that.

It is a similar situation we see ourselves in now. All of our lives matter — that’s the point — but Black people being killed and discriminated against at a disproportionate level has caused a worldwide focus on the Black Lives Matter movement. A movement that exists simply ‘to bring justice, healing, and freedom to Black people across the globe’.

By supporting the movement, you’re supporting the fact that Black lives are equal, that they matter as much as all other lives and deserve the same levels of respect and fairness.

‘We can’t erase our history’ (in response to slave trader Edward Colston’s statue being pulled down)

No, we can’t, but we don’t have to celebrate the inhumane parts of it either. Living in Bristol, I’ve seen petitions for years to have the statue replaced. Edward Colston was described on the plaque as a ‘benefactor’ and ‘philanthropist’ when, in fact, he made his money through human suffering.

Between 1680 and 1692, he led an ‘organisation’ that violently kidnapped and shipped 84,000 African women, children and men from their hometowns to be sold as slaves. Eighty four thousand humans stolen and forced into slavery in just 12 years. 19,000 of these innocent humans died on the way because of the conditions (there was no food, scorching heat and they were shackled together). When they died, they were simply tossed overboard. I will spare the tales of what happened to them when they arrived because it is beyond belief that anyone would treat another human life is such an abhorrent way.

And while I appreciate this is part of our history and we can’t erase that, we also don’t need to celebrate it. There are whole museums (including two in Bristol) with tons of information on our slave trade history. There is a reason Germany don’t have statues of Hitler around the country, because statues glorify people. They’re erected in their celebration. The slave trade is nothing to celebrate and if people want to learn about it, there are countless resources to do so which are far better suited than a statue in the middle of town.

‘White privilege doesn’t exist’

Just because someone has one kind of privilege — for example, being white, in many situations — it doesn’t mean that they are ‘better’ or ‘worse off’ than someone else, based on their differences.

It doesn’t mean your personal situation isn’t hard, it means that your skin colour isn’t one of the things making it harder.

Privilege is complex, and multi-faceted, and not as simple as a league table of who’s more privileged than whom. It’s just a framework to help us understand how we may have benefited, in our lives, from things over which we have no control.

Privilege is often invisible to those who have it, because we’re taught not to see or acknowledge it. This means that, for those who have not experienced them first-hand, it can be hard to understand microaggressions — the everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs and insults, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory or negative messages to people based on their membership(s) of a marginalised group or groups.

‘I get the sentiment but don’t like the way they’ve gone about it’

‘I thought we were on lockdown? Aren’t people worried about catching covid at the protests? And while I respect their right to protest, I don’t agree with violence or damage to public property.’

For every person at those protests, there were dozens more that stayed home. No one person can represent all of their peers’ decisions or actions — in the same way that, by calling out the actions of racist police officers in the US, we’re not saying that every single white person is racist. We are, however, asking everyone to examine their own attitudes and complicity, willing or unwilling, in political and social systems which so often disadvantage and devalue the lives and safety of Black people and other people of colour.

If people are out on the streets taking direct action, it’s because they feel that this cannot wait. And the thing about direct action is that it works, and history often legitimises it after the fact. When the Suffragettes were protesting for Votes for Women, they were surrounded by people saying that this wasn’t the right way to do things, to wait for due process. Yet, they were successful, and to this day we owe them a debt of gratitude for one of our most fundamental rights. Bristol City Council vacillated on the issue of whether to take down the Colston statue for decades. The action taken at the peaceful protest ended that conversation, because the political process had failed to reach a satisfactory conclusion and was therefore demonstrably not working. As in the case of the Suffragettes, or the Easter Rising in Ireland, or ACT UP’s infamous disruption at the height of the AIDS epidemic, action has been taken; and even if political leaders condemn it, in years to come they will say it was a moment that changed the course of the conversation and led to change.

‘It’s political correctness gone mad now’

Is it? The phrase ‘you can’t say/do anything any more’ is not only factually false, but it also dismisses racism.

We are incredibly fortunate to be able to say and do most reasonable things. But until you’ve lived the experience of every other person, you don’t get to dictate what offends them — and what doesn’t. For example, someone could hear the n-word and be completely fine with it. Yet I personally have to download songs as radio edits or quickly skip over the word because it is so traumatically triggering from previous experiences.

I heard a great quote last year about use of the phrase ‘eskimo’. Someone had used it in passing, not realising its connotation, and another person had picked them up on it and calmly explained why it was an offensive term. Do you know what the person who’d used it did? They stopped saying it. They didn’t scream about ‘political correctness gone mad’. They didn’t post on Facebook. They didn’t make the other person feel uncomfortable. They just learnt from and adapted their behaviour.

And that’s the main thing I think we can all take away and put into action from this. Listen, learn from others’ experiences, call out things that aren’t right and be willing to adapt our behaviour.

We have a right to freedom of speech but that line stops with hate speech. That line stops with racism — in all its forms.

Black lives matter. Full stop.

Black Lives Matter is a complete sentence.

There’s no Black Lives Matter but [insert microaggression].

As soon as you insert a microaggression, as soon as you insert a ‘but’, you negate the fact that Black Lives Matter and infer that they don’t.

So together, from today, let’s take more time to understand. More time to listen before we judge.

Together, let’s speak up when something’s not right.

Let’s create a kinder, more mutually respectful society.

Together, let’s do better.

1. Influencer marketing can be a game changer

In a day and age when people are wise to mass marketing and fairly skeptical of things written on the side of a bus, how do you get your brand’s voice to resonate? You’ve got to keep it real. For 68 year old Labour leader, Jeremy Corbyn, this involved pulling up a pew in a cosy coffee shop with London grime MC, JME (nee. Jamie Adujuna). No big deal, some might say. But, this very action went viral. The unlikely heart-to-heart of JME discussing with J-Corbz why lots of young men in London aren’t voting sent Twitter into a #Grime4Corbyn frenzy, and prompted a rise of voter registrations amongst a demographic who are self-admittedly renowned for not voting.

Since then, countless rap stars across London have been taking to SnapChat, Twitter and Instagram to share their support for the politician. Politics has never been cooler.

2. Make it an omnichannel experience

It’s no coincidence that we’ve seen more Facebook advertising than ever this election, or that politicians have been throwing real-time shade at one another’s TV appearances — or lack thereof — in cleverly crafted tweets. It seems that rather than banking all their campaign budget on political broadcasts and door drops alone, most of the key parties are mixing things up and branching out onto social channels to connect with more people.

Perhaps they’ve been inspired by Trump’s notorious Twitter feed or Obama’s game-changing use of social in his famous 2008 campaign. But with the average person spending nearly two hours a day on social media, omnichannel’s a wise move and an opportunity for brands and politicians to reach wider audiences and keep up relevant, contextual one-to-one interactions in the moment.

3. Trust is everything

The era of fake news, false promises and reliance on third party reviews has made trustworthiness a critical notion for brand relationships and politicians alike. Today, what you stand for and what you believe in is just as important as what you say — as people increasingly opt for brands whose values and ethics align with their own. The takeaway? Building trust should be just as key a focus as selling stuff. People want to be able to rely on products and services. In a similar vein to politics, they want to know brands have integrity and won’t let them down.

Pitching promises that can’t be upheld is a risky business when unhappy customers can share their voice freely and easily with millions of people, in a matter of seconds.

4. Be brave

Satirical social animations, live streaming, Snapchat promos, an attempted crowd surf from a politician? I think it’s fair to say that the UK’s never seen a bolder, braver toolbox of election campaign marketing tactics. And hats off — because if you keep doing the same old thing, chances are you’ll keep getting the same old results. With the 18–25 year olds bracket renowned as the lowest voting demographic, it makes good marketing sense to try new creative ways to interact with them. And if the all-time high voting registration figures amongst young people are anything to go by, you could say these new methods are working.

Thinking outside the ballot box and having a bit of courage and some metaphorical fire in your belly goes a long way in today’s ever-evolving marketing landscape — things move too swiftly to spend too long wondering ‘what if’. And if you never try, you’ll never know, right?

5. Keep it human

Authenticity. Beneath the straplines, slogans and soundbites, people want to hear politicians talking, interacting, debating, listening. They want to see the whites of their eyes, their body language, their facial expressions when they’re asked tricky questions. Lots of the video content being shared in the lead-up to the election reiterates this. And it’s an important learning for us as marketers too. As individuals, we all crave connection and relevance. That’s exactly why we’ve seen such a rise in vlogger success. People don’t want the wool pulled over their eyes, they want to know what they’re really buying into — and why it matters to them.

Just as any smart politician should, it’s important to understand what matters to your audience, what they care about, what interests them, what frustrates them. Building this context allows you to engage on a deeper level than ever before, in ways that resonate with people’s hearts and their minds, rather than make them want to hit the ‘unsubscribe’ or ‘hide’ button.

Mic drop.

P.S. Don’t forget to vote.

Words and views by Candi Williams, Senior Copywriter at Harte Hanks.

Oh, Aquila. If you’ve not had the culinary fortune of dining in this gem before, you’re missing out. Hidden amidst the ample eateries of Bristol, you’ll find this plush Italian nestled in the heart of Baldwin Street – an area that’s really upped its foodie game lately with independent hotspots popping up, inspired by all corners of the globe.

Aquila’s one of the street’s biggest inhabitants, standing tall over two floors with a swanky glass exterior. The place is just as striking when you walk in too. Cue fancy staircase, beautifully laid tables, bustling open kitchen and charming staff who look as polished as the perfect cutlery.

The modern luxe is balanced with warm, friendly service. We were one of the first to arrive for their new pilot free-flowing Prosecco lunch — naturally — and we were swiftly greeted with a beaming smile. As we walked on in, I spied the most beautiful sight: two collossol buckets filled to the brim with bottles of bubbly, reassuring me that I was in the right place.

Fabulous food

Once whisked to our table, de-coated and comfortably seated, the free-flowing three course feast menu began. As promised, it started off with a choice of Bellini (classic peach, raspberry or strawberry), followed by:

• Foccacia and olives to share
• A main course of your choice (from a selection of around 10 pizza and pasta favourites)
• Affogato (gelato ice cream topped with liquor of your choice and espresso)

All accompanied by two hours of free-flowing Prosecco. Dreamy.

I opted for the raspberry Bellini, which was divine. The foccacia and olives followed suit, and were equally as delicious. The foccacia was served warm with a super moreish herb oil dressing. A fair sized sharing starter portion, leaving room for the indulgence to follow.

We both opted for pizzas (to soak up the Prosecco fountain) and similarly to my first visit, they didn’t disappoint. The pizza was stonebaked to perfect with fresh, flavoursome toppings. Impressive sizing too.

There’s always room for dessert, right? Different stomachs and all that. Aquila’s affogato dessert choice was a pretty spot-on way to round-off the hearty pizza/Prosecco shenanigans. Proper Italian gelato with a glug of liquor and espresso added for tastebud-winning measure.

Unfaultable service

Aquila don’t take their service lightly. From the second you’re seated to the moment you leave, you’re made to feel special. I actually found it really refreshing to be somewhere that you get the true eating experience. It makes all the difference. The guys have Prosecco stations with bottles around the restaurant and they’re on hand to make sure your glass really is never empty.

Free-flowing Prosecco

I’m no stranger to the bottomless brunch phonomenum, having taken on a few others in both Bristol and London. Previously, I’ve had mixed thoughts about them. The London one was great, with a bottle-by-bottle approach that saved the waitress having to constantly worry about keeping our glasses topped up. On the other hand, I’ve had glass-by-glass experiences where the speed of service means you spend most of your time with an empty glass trying to catch someone’s eye for a top up.

The Aquila team were clearly Prosecco ninjas in a previous life, as I can honestly say that my glass was kept beautifully topped up without so much as requiring an ‘I need Prosecco’ puppy-dog-eyes glance. Considering the restaurant was full by the time we left, I’d call that pretty awesome work.

Final thoughts

In three words? Bubbly. Friendly. Memorable.

Worth the money? Definitely. Three courses, two hours of Prosecco, a Bellini and a liquor coffee and ice cream for £29.99. We definitely left feeling we’d had our fill.

Go again? In a heartbeat. In fact, I’ve already booked in. Loved it.

Fancy trying it out for yourself? After a successful trial run, Aquila are now doing the bottomless lunch menu 12–4 on Saturday and Sundays. You can reach them on: Be quick to book though! No doubt, it’ll be popular.

Be silly.

“A little nonsense now and then, is relished by the wisest men.” — Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator

Go big.

“Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog.” — Matilda

Never stop believing.

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely of places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” — The Minpins

And never forget to read.

“If you are going to get anywhere in life you have to read a lot of books.” — “My Year.”

Think beautifully.

“A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.” — The Twits

Break the rules.

“Don’t gobblefunk around with words.” — The BFG

Have courage.

“You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that.” — Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator.

Enthuse.

“I began to realise how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. He taught me that if you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it at full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.” — My Uncle Oswald

Capture your ideas.

“You never know when a lovely idea is going to flit suddenly into your mind, but by golly, when it does come along, you grab it with both hands and hang on to it tight. The trick is to write it down at once, otherwise you’ll forget it.” — Lucky Break

Happy Dahl Day!