Benjamin Zephaniah

"Me? I thought, OBE me? Up yours, I thought. I get angry when I hear that word "empire"; it reminds me of slavery, it reminds of thousands of years of brutality, it reminds me of how my foremothers were raped and my forefathers brutalised. It is because of this concept of empire that my British education led me to believe that the history of black people started with slavery and that we were born slaves, and should therefore be grateful that we were given freedom by our caring white masters. It is because of this idea of empire that black people like myself don't even know our true names or our true historical culture. I am not one of those who are obsessed with their roots, and I'm certainly not suffering from a crisis of identity; my obsession is about the future and the political rights of all people. Benjamin Zephaniah OBE - no way Mr Blair, no way Mrs Queen. I am profoundly anti-empire." 

Zephaniah rejects OBE - Gwaan!!

Benjamin Zephaniah came up on my Twitter timeline tonight. I was excited to see his name pop up, as he is a writer, performer and human being who has inspired me deeply. So much so, that I abandoned Twitter, for fear of TMI, and came here to release.

As an English teacher, I find his literature an excellent way to enthuse my students to read, write and gain confidence when expressing themselves verbally. Watch this:



He proves to my students that you don't have to speak in the queen's English to be heard, or say something important. He visited our school a few years back, and was able to keep a hot, stuffy room, full of over 100 students and staff, hanging on his every word for two hours. He's charismatic in a totally unassuming way, with a warm and genuine nature that gives you faith in the messages he sends out; anti-colonialism, veganism, anti-war, race/identity...

Zephaniah with me and some colleagues

The themes of his work are also right up my street, his books rightly deserve a place alongside the literary 'greats' that we push upon our children. I use 'Refugee Boy' with my year eight groups to explore issues surrounding assylum and refugees from war torn Africa. It gives us the opportunity to iron out misconceptions surrounding refugees, remove the stigma attached and allow students to reflect and empathise. It also gives me the opportunity to explore a little African history and geography with my classes; my students know that if I can bring a lesson 'back to Africa', I'm a happy Miss!

When it comes to poetry with my year 7 groups, I use 'Dis Poetry' to teach the top techniques: metaphors, similes, assonance, rhyme, alliteration... Again, his style and verbal prowess win over the students, who lap it up and excitedly make their own 'Dis Poetry' spoken word poems. Here's his:

Before I was a teacher, I was a TA. I was assigned two of the 'toughest' boys in school to assist; both with educational statements for behaviour, numerous suspensions under their belts, a history of drugs and violence. They were lovely kids, both of them, that type of behaviour is exactly that - a behaviour, not a character. This was always evident when I got them reading. The 'tougher' one of the two particularly enjoyed 'Gangsta Rap'. I'll admit, his initial enthusiasm came from the fact that I let him read a book with swear words in it, but when he got to know Ray, the protaganist, he was transformed. So much so, that the librarian lifted his ban from the library (hallelujah!)

I could go on forever about this man and his work, but I don't have the time. Instead, I'll leave you with a few more poems I like to teach, and a link to his website where you can explore more - should you wish!


The British



Talking Turkeys



Overstanding




Bought and Sold 
Smart big awards and prize money
Is killing off black poetry
It's not censors or dictators that are cutting up our art.
The lure of meeting royalty
And touching high society
Is damping creativity and eating at our heart. 

The ancestors would turn in graves
Those poor black folk that once were slaves would wonder
How our souls were sold
And check our strategies,
The empire strikes back and waves
Tamed warriors bow on parades
When they have done what they've been told
They get their OBEs. 

Don't take my word, go check the verse
Cause every laureate gets worse
A family that you cannot fault as muse will mess your mind,
And yeah, you may fatten your purse
And surely they will check you first when subjects need to be amused
With paid for prose and rhymes. 

Take your prize, now write more,
Faster,
Fuck the truth
Now you're an actor do not fault your benefactor
Write, publish and review,
You look like a dreadlocks Rasta,
You look like a ghetto blaster,
But you can't diss your paymaster
And bite the hand that feeds you. 

What happened to the verse of fire
Cursing cool the empire
What happened to the soul rebel that Marley had in mind,
This bloodstained, stolen empire rewards you and you conspire,
(Yes Marley said that time will tell)
Now look they've gone and joined. 

We keep getting this beating
It's bad history repeating
It reminds me of those capitalists that say
'Look you have a choice,'
It's sick and self-defeating if our dispossessed keep weeping
And we give these awards meaning
But we end up with no voice.