Are We There Yet?

Last week, I participated in two meetings about diversity that could not have been more different from each other.

The first meeting was sombre.  It was at the BBC –and focused on regional diversity. 

Seven years ago the BBC rolled out its plans to increase regional diversity. By any objective measure these plans have delivered some great, successful results. The quality and quantity of the programmes that are now produced outside of London by the BBC are at their highest levels ever.  It has been great for my team and me as a member of the BBC’s senior management in Scotland. However, at the meeting it was clear that these results were not enough. Some of the targets the BBC has set itself are very difficult and do need constant vigilance to meet. Indeed, despite the absolute success of leaders and senior management in the regions and London, not a single back was being slapped during the meeting.  It was a serious, somewhat painful and practical meeting.
 

Perhaps thankfully, this was in sharp contrast to the second meeting I attended. The second meeting was a “diversity roundtable”, convened by the Minister of Culture, Media and Sport – Ed Vaizey.  It was the 4^th in a series that I’ve been invited to – in my role as the Chair of the Diversity Committee for the Royal Television Society.  And what struck me immediately as I grabbed a free coffee from the servers outside the very nice NFT viewing theatre where the roundtable was to be held – was that I could hear… laughter.  

Indeed, this plush setting and laughter were a surprise, based on past experience. The 1^st ever roundtable – back in 2013 had been convened in a rush, and attendees were cramped into a conference room in the House of Commons. There were high-level participants of course, but the meeting can only be described as fairly messy and inconclusive. The image of Pat Younge perched on a chair squeezed into the corner of the room has been burnt into my memory. 

This 4^th session was entirely different. The official DCMS press officer was taking pictures for their twitter feed, and each broadcaster – from Stuart Murphy from Sky, to Ralph Lee and Baroness Oona King for Channel 4, to Charlotte Moore for the BBC and ITV commissioner Asif Zubairy – confidently outlined all the initiatives and money they had recently rolled out to increase Black Asian and Minority Ethnic (BAME) diversity. John McVay – representing the Indies – set out similar initiatives and they all even discussed how many of the initiatives were pan-industry with them all working together. Mutual backslapping was the activity of the hour.  

But despite the jovial mood, my concern was, unlike the regional meeting earlier in the day,  nothing has yet been achieved by these initiatives. None of them have yet shattered the glass-ceilings, and there is no evidence yet that the number of BAME people employed behind the camera is not still woefully low.

My concern – and I believe others in the BAME industry hold this – is that the top management in broadcasters will feel “mission accomplished” when in reality we have only just started.

There’s currently a joke between black people working in the TV and film industry which goes like this:

“Have you seen ‘Selma’ yet?”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s a film about one black man taking on the entrenched racism of an entire system. Proving you can overcome prejudice and overwhelming odds.”

“Oh, you mean the story of David Oyelowo moving from the UK to the States?”.

It’s hardly the funniest joke in the world – and indeed Martin Luther King’s struggles and achievements are nothing to joke about… But the joke does to a good degree highlight the ongoing struggle for BAME people to get work both in front of and behind the camera in Britain. The initiatives are very welcome, but many non-white people still feel they are not getting the breaks they deserve.

That is why, in and amongst all the good cheer at the roundtable, there was one remark made by the BBC’s Charlotte Moore that struck me as critical. In responding to a question from the floor, Charlotte said it was highly likely that diversity will be “part of charter renewal”. It might have been an off-the-cuff remark, I’m not sure. But in actual fact, if BAME (and other) diversity is part of charter renewal it might well mean that the voluntary initiatives we are welcoming now might become ingrained, somewhat like the 7 year old BBC out of London targets currently are or the targets C4 regional targets set by Ofcom.

While that might mean less jovial meetings, it might also mean that sufficient time is being put aside to evaluate their success and ensure they deliver, and we can all focus seriously on making them do even more for deserving BAME people across the country.  Now that would be success to laugh about.
 

(This post was originally written for Broadcast Magazine. Since writing the original article Broadcast published a freedom of information request to the BBC revealing that resignations by BAME employees are at a five year high at the organisation. It might even be a ten year high or even an all time high, we don't know because the magazine only asked for figures for the last five years. So in answer to my question in the title of this piece; Are we there yet? Unfortunately the answer is still No)

What Unfulfilled Potential Looks Like

Last year my friend and colleague Jay Mukoro died and life is not fair.

A few times in life something happens that puts everything in perspective. An event so dramatic that it shocks the system and either forces you to re-evaluate your beliefs or spurs you on to redouble your efforts.

Last April I was on holiday in America when my personal phone started ringing at 3.50am in the morning. It was my Production Manager and I knew instantly something was wrong. Back in the UK it was still only ten to nine.

"There's no easy way to say it, so I'm just going to say it" was all the warning I got by way of preamble. "We think Jay is dead - drowned in Barbados". Just typing this conversation still makes my lip quiver. He was in Barbados for a wedding but he was also directing a film for me about the 1986 Commonwealth Games. One of the interviewees happened to live in Barbados and so the day before he had shot an interview with him. Work done the following day he had gone back to enjoying his holiday. My understanding is that he swam out to sea and simply never returned.

There are supposedly seven stages to grief and now nine months on I think I have gone through them all, but if I think too much about it I am quickly transported back to the “anger stage”.

Jay was a brilliant Assistant Producer. He had worked on numerous high profile landmark Current Affairs films. Everything from The History of Modern Britain with Andrew Marr to Mixed Britanica. But like hundreds of black people working in television before him he felt he had hit a glass-ceiling.

No one would give him the break he needed to direct his first film.

I've lost count of the conversations we would have in Pret A Manger or Costa Coffee by the BBC where we'd discuss the problems of the glass-ceiling. Part career advice, part therapy session they were fundamentally just two black people discussing the obstacles we face. But no matter how difficult the issues were Jay would always be laughing and smiling.

Everyone I spoke to who worked him all said the same thing;

“Jay is brilliant”. “He should be directing”. “He deserves a break”.

Last year I was finally in a position to give him that break. BBC Scotland - due to the Commonwealth Games and The Referendum - had more opportunities than usual. I didn't give him the break out of some act of goodwill but because I knew he was perfect for the job. The film was about the 1986 Commonwealth Games, a fascinating story of an African led boycott due to South African apartheid. Jay had a great track record in history docs, understood how to distill complex race issues to a mass audience (in this case apartheid) and had brilliant visual ideas.

                                

He had to move up to Glasgow to direct the film but he didn't hesitate. The first month he moved into my spare bedroom while he looked for a place to stay. That's when I'd like to say the professional relationship became a friendship. I found out he loved Radiohead (although knew the difference between a Tribe Called Quest track and a De La Soul song) and I discovered how he proposed to his wife Olivia and about his relationship with his Nigerian father.

It is trite when someone young dies suddenly to talk about "what a loss it is", "a waste of talent" or "how we lost him in their prime". But with Jay these oft quoted phrases have an added edge that literally fills me with anger and sorrow.

Jay may have been finally directing his first broadcast film but there was no way this should have been his directing debut. His talent was so immense and obvious, not just to me but everyone you spoke to, he should have had a plethora of directing credits. I shouldn't have been "giving him a break", he should have been "doing me a favour" to direct a film I was exec'ing.

We often talk about "glass-ceilings" in the abstract. Jay's death exposes the cruel reality behind such an innocuous phrase. It is about wasted talent. It is about people being held back despite amazing talent. It is about the fact that for far too many black people working in the media fundamentally life is unfair. Jay's tragic and untimely death just brings that into focus.

Jay was never able to fulfil his potential. The same is true for too many people from diverse backgrounds working in television – although rarely as obvious or tragic.

I will miss Jay terribly, as I am sure will everyone who ever worked with him. It might be almost a year later but I am sure all our thoughts and prayers are with his wife Olivia and the family he leaves behind.