Mikaela Loach: “We’re not half of something – we’re a whole of something else”
The activist and author on multiplicity, shifting the focus from interpersonal racism and interconnectedness as collective liberation
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! This week, I’m speaking to activist and author Mikaela Loach, who is of mixed-Jamaican and white heritage. Mikaela is a vital voice in the climate justice movement, campaigning, disrupting and directly holding power to account. The co-director of the AWETHU School of Organising and the author of It’s Not That Radical, Mikaela’s approach to identity looks at more than the interpersonal. Her story might just change the way you think about race – read it below.
How do you define your racial identity?
As a kid, people would use ‘mixed’ for me, so I assumed that must be who I am. As an adult, I realised that didn’t make much sense. Race is a categorisation system that’s been invented – understanding that racialisation is something put upon us is important, it’s not something that’s inherent. It’s something to create a power system of who is the most exploited.
Throughout my life, I've navigated this world as a Black person. A lighter-skinned Black person, which I’m sure has given me many benefits, but not as a mixed person. Blackness has defined how I have been perceived and interacted with this world.
I find it strange, this idea of being half of something when you’re actually a whole of something else. I see myself as someone with mixed heritage, as both very Jamaican and very British at the same time. My race is separate from that, that’s more about how I’m perceived.
How we’re perceived will also change depending on the context. I’ve grown up in very white spaces where I’m the most Black person they’ve ever seen. In Ghana, I was called ‘obruni,’ which means white person. I was so confused. It would be wrong of me in that context to say “no, you’re wrong, I’m Black” and not recognise the ways the power system will benefit me.
I find it frustrating when people are resistant to the privilege that comes with being perceived as closer to whiteness. It’s very possible to hold a lot of different things at the same time, people would do well to recognise complexity, that things are not binaries.
Sometimes as mixed people we focus too much on interpersonal racism. But I had a realisation when I became an adult – because I grew up in more white spaces, the air I breathed was cleaner. Institutional and structural racism was less impactful on my life, and those can be the worst ways that racism plays out. People say we’re in the same boat with climate change, but I reframe it as we’re all in the same storm. Some of us are in giant ocean liners, some of us are on a raft.
What was your cultural upbringing like?
I was born in Kingston, Jamaica. We moved to the UK when I was about three. My mum lived in Jamaica her entire life. My dad lived there for many years, so Jamaican culture was a big thing in our house. My dad was insistent that we weren’t disconnected from our Jamaican cultures. Food, music, documentaries about Jamaican history… My mum would only read us Jamaican books.
And you grew up in quite a white area?
We were the only non-white family for miles around. When I was younger, I wanted to be white because it felt easiest. People were saying I wasn’t attractive and I thought they must be right.
I felt very part of both cultures. I’m very proud of my Jamaican culture. I also love a roast, fish and chips, scones, and British humour. Jamaicans are the proudest people on earth, but that nationalism feels very different to holding a massive Union Jack. In Jamaica, it comes from this very recent independence and a big history of struggle, whereas nationalism here is a history of colonising everything. I don’t feel proud of British history or nationalism, I don’t relate to it.
When I moved back to Jamaica for a bit, I missed a lot of British things I didn’t expect to miss. Then I realised how British I am. I’m very both. There's parts of myself that are not able to be fully realised in Jamaica, and there are parts of myself that are not able to be fully realised here. Now I'm just trying to see if I can split my time between both.
Can you pinpoint the parts of you that you couldn’t fully access?
A lot of it is humour, there’s a lot of British humour I can’t access in Jamaica and vice versa. There’s a level in which I’m just able to relax in Jamaica, there’s significantly less racism. People are in less of a rush. There’s a different manifestation of the oppressiveness of capitalism. You can also have a chat with people in the way we don’t do in the UK. I feel a visceral connection to the land – the sea, the mountains. I like the fact that you can walk down the street and pick stuff off trees. Foraging here feels different.
Have you always been confident in your sense of identity?
It's definitely been a journey. Therapy has helped, understanding the dynamics of things has helped. Now I am very secure in my identity. Moving back to Jamaica as an adult helped. Now I’m actively trying to reconnect with the Caribbean climate movement with a big awareness of my positionality within that. I'm not trying to overtake spaces. Feeling accepted in those spaces has helped, but it’s certainly a journey.
Reading about these structures and applying it, materially thinking about how you can change things is really useful. I didn’t have the words to talk about these things growing up and not being able to articulate the insecurity I was feeling made it so much worse.
Do you think being mixed has affected the way you view life?
I’m able to navigate and have empathy and grace for two different people, both who are in need of grace at different times. Me and some friends who are also of mixed heritage, particularly global north and global south mixed, talk about how we see our role as building solidarity between the global north and global south. That's really, really important, especially in the face of the climate crisis. There’s huge power in understanding interconnectedness, especially for our collective liberation.
I am from people, who have basically no responsibility for the climate crisis and also from people who have benefitted from it and have more responsibility. It’s about bridging that gap in a reparative way, in a solidarity way. I draw on that responsibility from one side of me and radical history from another side of me. Both of them need to come together.
Can you sum up your mixed experience in one word?
Both. I feel like both.
Next week, I’ll be taking a break as the Christmas festivities ramp up! There may be a bonus post if I can tear myself away from the cheese boards and mulled wine. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox the following Monday. Shop Mixed Messages on Etsy now – the perfect Christmas present!
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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.