Jennie Roberts: “I don't want to look like them, I love looking like me”
The hairstylist on being embraced, celebrating herself and relishing her curls
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! This week’s guest is hairstylist and afro-textured hair educator Jennie Roberts, who is of mixed Ghanaian and white British heritage. I met Jenni at a Shea Moisture event last year, where she showed guests how to embrace and style our curls. Having worked with the likes of Donald Glover, Thandiwe Newton and Mel B, I was excited to hear about Jennie’s own hair history, and her experiences of growing up mixed-race. Read her story below.
How do you define your identity?
My mum is half-Ghanaian and half-English. She was born in Manchester in the ‘40s, then her parents got divorced. Her father took her and her siblings to Ghana in the ‘60s, which was an alien country to her. That’s where I was born and where she met my dad. She hated being in Ghana, but she did adopt a lot of the culture; the food and the more laid-back attitude. She bought that food, those stories and those artefacts home.
I’m also Sicilian, which I didn’t know until I did a DNA test three years ago. My mum never said who my father was, I always thought he was English, so I've never embraced the Sicilian side, but Italian food is my favourite food.
My DNA test said I’m 46% Sicilian and 4% French on my dad’s side, English, Scottish and Welsh on my mum’s side and only 9% Ghanaian. That’s how I’ve identified all my life, but after I picked myself up off the floor I saw I was 20% from Benin and Togo, so I’m actually 29% West African.
You’re not necessarily the picture of what people expect for someone who’s a quarter Black, although I hate to speak in fractions.
My mum was quite dark, and my cousins are the same. They’ve got a broad nose and nice full lips. You can tell instantly they're mixed, but to somebody who doesn’t know, they’d just think they were white. I’m really happy I have darker skin. There’s so much mixing going on now that you’re getting kids with really tight blonde hair, green eyes and white skin. It’s a mish-mash, it’s wonderful.
My kids don’t feel Black and they don't feel white, they feel mixed, as I do as well. I know that if push came to shove and I had to be adopted by one community, the Black community would absolutely take me in their arms. That’s why I consider myself more Ghanaian than anything else.
It’s a very mixed problem to be told by the Black community that we’re white-passing or that we’ve not put up with all of the stigma. I’m sure we haven’t, but we have our own stigmas from both the Black and white communities. I’ve been called the P word, the N word…
Has your sense of identity changed over time?
I've always had a really strong sense of identity. I've never wavered from it. I've never wished I was white just to fit in with people. I’ve never really wished I was Black either because I do consider myself as part of the Black community. I've always celebrated myself.
When I walked into a room and it was all white people, I just thought ‘right, here we go, I’m the different one’ rather than going ‘oh my god, there’s no Black people here.’ I do now, I think, ‘where are the Black people?’ My husband was brought up in Chelsea and Kensington, so when we go to weddings, I relish walking in with this crazy, beautiful, curly hair and my lovely dark skin. I don't want to look like them, I love looking like me.
I went to a very white school, but the racism I faced was kids on the estate shouting me on the way home. When I went to a Black school and moved to Moss Side, I was targeted badly by the Black kids. I just couldn't work out what I'd done wrong. I was really bullied for being African and how I would celebrate that, telling them my African name.
I forgive, because I understand where that pain comes from, but it’s very difficult as a child. I still didn't want to change, I just couldn't understand why they were doing that to me. Then I realised that was colourism – I had no idea about that. We’re all different shades in our house, there’s no colourism or texturism.
Is being mixed something you spoke to your family, both older and younger, about?
We’ve always been really positive about our race, about our culture. I did have conversations with my mum when I was little, but I don't think she was aware of the fact that I was being bullied. My mum has always celebrated everything, to the extent that's why I'm a hairdresser – she celebrated her hair and my hair. It’s always been “why would you straighten your hair?”
My children actually have made me even more proud to be mixed-race because they absolutely love it. They love showing me and their grandmother off. The conversations are always about positivity.
I’d love to hear about your hairdressing journey.
My mum was really into her own hair. She liked having her hair done and using lovely products, even if we couldn’t afford them. She met a Greek guy at a salon who gave me my first job when I was 13 years old. He just instinctively knew how to do afro hair. I didn’t have that disastrous haircut experience.
In Manchester, I was asked to work with Take That, then I worked with the Spice Girls. I got quite a few DMs about the Bantu knots I did for Mel B’s hair in Spice World and how it made them feel seen. I never straightened her hair, it never occurred to me to straighten it. I just look at curls and think of nourishment, making them healthy and lovely and reflecting culture.
Have you noticed any stereotypes around mixed identity?
I want us not to have this conversation. I might get in trouble for saying this, but I can normally tell by looking at a woman if she's got a black mother or white mother when I see their hair. It’s the confidence she exudes. Often, when you have a Black mother, I think there's more acceptance of your identity. Maybe I’m generalising, but I’ve seen it a lot.
What’s one of the best things about being mixed for you?
When I walk into a room, I'm different. I look different. I like having one foot in both cultures. My grandmother could cook me a potato hash with loads of brown sauce. I love that as much as I love my mum making me palm nut soup. I know English culture, and when I’m with my Black family and friends, everyone calls me aunty. I embrace that as well. I feel more enriched.
Can you sum up your mixed experience in one word?
Fusion.
Next week, I’ll be speaking to author Helen Comerford. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox on Monday. Shop Mixed Messages tote bags and bookmarks on Etsy now.
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Mixed Messages is a weekly exploration of the mixed-race experience, from me, Isabella Silvers. My mom is Punjabi (by way of East Africa) and my dad is white British, but finding my place between these two cultures hasn’t always been easy. That’s why I started Mixed Messages, where each week I’ll speak to a prominent mixed voice to delve into what it really feels like to be mixed.
Ah wow! This is such a beautiful interview! Love hearing about her perception on identity! Just being herself , always good to hear and be reminded of! Nadia x