No matter how gentle, no matter how serene, no matter how many good works I do or taxes I pay or lives I save I will always be, always be, to them a dangerous woman.

A pause for breath as the words sink in.  And then applause.  Nadine Aisha Jassat’s poem seems to be held and truly felt by the audience in The Other Tent at Wigtown Book Festival.

It seems to me we feel a series of shocks, first sensing that slap in the face, imagining the visceral reaction, as an attractive young woman involuntarily smiles at the wee boy walking in front of her in an Edinburgh street.

The wee boy turns,

I smile, he screams.

He screams,

‘You’re a bad woman!’

Nadine Aisha Jassat: Scot-Mid

But, perhaps there’s deeper, more insidious damage in the words of a friend:  

I have a memory, briefly,

of a university friend

in consoling tones

telling me

I could ‘pass for white’.

Scot-Mid (first presented as part of Edinburgh University’s Dangerous Women project) shocks for many reasons but not least because it describes an everyday assault, the kind of event many of us in the tent might have witnessed without knowing, seeing without sensing.  For women of colour, as Nadine explains, the experience is all too common.  She feels no anger at the boy, but asks us to imagine where he learned such words and feelings. Here, in Scotland.   

How to be an activist?

Truth – the theme of this year’s National Poetry Day (3 October) – was also a vital element of the event in the book festival’s WigWam programme for young people.  

How to be an Activist?  Nadine Aisha Jassat, whose debut collection Let Me Tell You This brought her to the festival, is part of the panel discussion.  Beside her is Kerry Hudson, author of Lowborn: Growing up, Getting Away and Returning to Britain’s Poorest Towns.

Joining them via a sometimes crackly Skype connection is Femi Oluwole (tireless Twitter activist and founder of Our Future Our Choice) beaming in from a stairwell at the Tory Party Conference to a small tent in the centre of a small town in Dumfries and Galloway.   Like everyone else Femi applauds the poem.

How to be an activist? The audience ranges from very young to very much older. The message to us all is that we must find our own way to constructive activism.    Know your material, says Femi, don’t get caught up in unwinnable slanging matches which merely alienate others who might otherwise listen with open minds.  Engage with humanity, says Kerry, storytelling from the heart will reach listeners more effectively than spouting numbers.  Know yourself, says Nadine.

For her, poetry is activism. Voted one of Scotland’s 30 most inspiring women under 30 she used to used to whisper, “‘I’m a poet’, now I shout it from the rooftops and help others on their journey to shouting who they are, too.”

Truly dangerous warm-hearted hope

For all the anger and noise of Brexit echoing far beyond the little WigWam tent, there was also a message of hope. 

Hope in human kindness, decency and dignity. Kerry has found it in her travels to reconnect with parts of the country which voted overwhelmingly to Leave, where grassroots communities are working together (however they voted) for the common good. Femi agrees, finding hope when he speaks with people inviting open discussion based on shared values.  Nadine finds hope in the warm response of adults and young people she works with. 

When she reads her poem – not in that I-am-reading-poetry voice but with a quiet, compelling matter of factness – the audience listens and hears.  Truly dangerous warm-hearted humanity.

Women of Achievement is the theme of this year’s Black History Month.

They are unique, remarkable, resilient and at times the bedrock and solid foundations in many families and communities across the nation. Many of you will know such women in your own lives and we urge you to take time during Black History Month to recognise them as “Women of Achievement”. Black History Month

Thank you to Nadine and publishers 404 ink for permission to publish Scot-Mid in full.

Scot-Mid

I am 26,

walking through quiet Edinburgh streets

on my way to the supermarket.

There’s a shopping list in my head, chanting 

aubergine – ginger – butter to make ghee –

aubergine – ginger – butter to make ghee. 

Two children trail in front of me,

at the tail coats of fathers

who walk further ahead

in heavy laced boots.

The wee boy turns,

I smile, he screams.

He screams,

‘You’re a bad woman!’

His sister hushes him away, apologetic.

Tells me he didn’t mean it.

I am panic: eyes to the child,

to the pavement, to the wall,

did anyone else hear?

To the pavement, to the wall,

did anyone else hear him?

To the child, to the floor.

Returning home,

conscious of my face in that child’s mind

and the newspapers he has seen

and the television he has watched

and the words he has heard,

I have a memory, briefly,

of a university friend

in consoling tones

telling me

I could ‘pass for white’.

No matter how gentle.

No matter how serene.

No matter how many good works I do,

or taxes I pay,

or lives I save,

I will always be,

always be, to them

a dangerous woman.

And what are they to me?

Scot-Mid was first published in Let Me Tell You This by Nadine Aisha Jassat, 404 Ink, 2019′

Wigtown Book Festival ends on Sunday 6 October.

Featured image:  A screenshot from Hopscotch a film by Roxana Vilk // based on a poem by Nadine Aisha Jassat