I Don't Want To Engage In This Election. But As A Gay Black Woman I Have No Choice

I hate talking about politics, and hate how much I talk about it. But my very existence is political and on the line, writes Zuva
|
Open Image Modal
Getty Editorial
HuffPost UK

Can you imagine waking up one day and deciding, “today I am done with politics”? 

You stop tracking what’s happening in the news. You unfollow anyone who posts about it. You dismiss your political friends (if you even have any) . You read, you go to the theatre, maybe you even pick up a new hobby. You feel no threat , no existential dread. Besides illness or random freak accidents, you know your family will be fine. Life is good.

If I could, I would choose to shut politics in a box never to be seen again. Contrary to what you might expect of someone with my background, I don’t enjoy politics. I hate talking about it, and I hate how much I talk about it. But I don’t have a choice. As a bisexual, Black woman with ongoing mental health issues and a concern for the future of our planet, my very existence is political. 

One breakdown of the Labour and Conservative manifestos gives a tally of how many times certain topics vital to young voters like me – mental health, LGBTQ+ issues, inequality and climate change – were mentioned. Labour mention these key topics 88 times, compared to the Conservatives’ disconcerting total of just thirteen. A Guardian analysis found the Conservatives mention our climate crisis ten times, despite it being rated as one of the most pressing issues by voters. The Liberal Democrats and Labour, on the other hand, referred to the climate crisis 59 times.

“When the nature of my disorder means it’s something I will have to manage my whole life, I’m deeply anxious about the future of our mental health services...”

In this election campaign, the Conservatives have promised many things which have now been found to be half-truths – on nursing recruitment and hospital building numbers. Boris Johnson claims too the NHS isn’t ‘on the table’, but as someone who studied nursing the pressure forced me to quit after two years, I know that’s not true. I have seen first hand the havoc this government has done to our most prized possession.

To read NHS bosses are scared patients and hospitals will have to pay billions more for drugs in any post-Brexit trade deal with Donald Trump is concerning. At the end of last year, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, and became one of many on regular mental health treatment. In the US’s fully privatised system the average cost of a therapist varies from $60-$120 per hour. With over four million people living below the poverty line in the UK, anything close to that here would make services completely inaccessible for those who need it most. And when the nature of my disorder means it’s something I will have to manage my whole life, I’m deeply anxious about the future of our mental health services.

In this decade of Conservative government, Black British people have been wrongly detained, denied their legal rights, threatened with deportation and, in over 100 cases, actually deported by a Home Office which did not keep a record of those granted leave to remain. This is the government I, an immigrant, is meant to trust? Lead by a man who this week all but implied EU nationals have invaded us when he said they consider Britain “basically part of their own country”?

Which brings us to the Prime Minister. It’s disconcerting to me that the public could select a man like Boris Johnson to lead our country. His re-election would mean millions of people have chosen to ignore his history of racist, homophobic, classist and Islamophobic comments, and would justify Johnson seeing no reason to apologise to all the people like me who he has insulted. It would only send a message that although immigrants like me are allowed here, this isn’t yet our country. 

None of this is say Labour is perfect – no political party is. But they are the best chance we have to rebuild the country and help the most vulnerable. As we sit here on polling day, I’m terrified of what happens if people stick with the devil they know. 

But what scares is me is all those I know who will be affected by that: European friends concerned about a hard Brexit; friends with relatives of the Windrush generation; friends with chronic pain, ongoing mental health issues and disabilities who are being unfairly told that they are fit to work. I’m worried about the number of people who don’t seem to care about the Conservatives’ history of racist immigration policies, their destruction of public health services, their deliberate disenfranchisement of the Windrush generation, and their treatment of the victims and survivors of Grenfell. 

“I’m tired of being scared and feeling powerless as our government shows time and time again it doesn’t support people like me...”

I know I am not the only one who sees their lives being debated on TV, on radio shows and even on social media. There are millions of us waiting to see how the cards will fall, anxious to find out if life will get harder from this point on. Systemic oppression isn’t a thing people like me have the privilege to ignore. 

I’m tired of being scared and feeling powerless as our government shows time and time again it doesn’t support people like me – not to mention those even more vulnerable than myself. But as the American academic Micheal Griener writes: “ Politicians know who showed up to vote for them and the issues that are important to those voters. This awareness directs how they allocate their limited time and attention. The lesson, then, is clear: if you want to make your issues a higher priority to the politicians, make sure you and large numbers of people who support your issues make up a sizeable portion of the politicians’ voting base.” 

Futile as it may turn out to be, I have to try. I have to hope.

Zuva is a writer, poet and editor of An Injustice!. You can follow her on Twitter at @zuva, and subscribe to her newsletter, [Bi]con, here