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Voices: ‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black
Voices: ‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black

Yahoo

time18 hours ago

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

Voices: ‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black

If every day is a school day, it's been an amazing week for many African-Americans as they discover that Black Scottish people exist. A TikTok video by @starboysobersfitness has gone viral after he filmed himself in his car ranting about this summer's weather in Scotland. Not the sort of thing that would normally warrant almost four million views and counting. And even Torgi Squire – a 43-year-old Glaswegian fitness influencer with locs, all the right muscles beneath his Under Armour and a killer-watt smile – admitted to not understanding the sudden and overwhelming popularity of this one clip… until he filmed a follow-up in which he took questions from his legion of new fans. And there's one answer that gives the game away, and it's one that tells you that many of his followers are on the other side of the Atlantic. 'Yes,' he says eventually, in his caramelly Scottish burr, 'I am Black.' Despite pointing out to a queue of disbelieving African-Americans that he is far from the only one in the village, that 'no, I'm no Sassenach', and that, yes, there are many other Black Scottish people, his roots still come as something of a surprise to the distrusting internet. To the point where he has to keep making the same point, in as many different ways as he can bear to offer: 'Welcome to Black Scottish TikTok', he says; 'I'm 100 per cent Scottish beef'; and – best of all – 'Yes, this accent comes in melanin, too.' Comments from viewers include gems such as "Mind blown", "How long have Black folk been in Scotland??? I had no idea lol", and "Is there racism in Scotland too? Real question…" It's easy to laugh at Americans – so, so easy… – but I can understand where the confusion comes from. I was born in south London, to Dominican and Bajan parents, and I spent a few years growing up in Syria. The first time I met a Black Scottish person, I was floored. I felt like a Love Is Blind contestant clapping eyes on the man who is going to be my fiancé. I was aware that I was staring intently and kept repeating: 'It's so weird trying to match the face to the voice…' That was nearly 35 years ago, before the internet was a thing. It wasn't that I didn't know they existed, I just hadn't met any. And besides, a little cognitive dissonance never hurt anybody. Meeting Black Scots was really exciting, and we exchanged stories of our experiences growing up in our respective cities. And as we often do, we found that many of us from the African diaspora have been through things that are eerily similar. We have all been compared to Black people that we looked nothing like – and at times, you will even embrace the lies. For me, it's 'Naomi? Yes!' 'Whoopi? No…' Casual racism is frightening in its unoriginality, wherever it's from. As August means the Edinburgh Festival, the Black population in Scotland has increased exponentially, with Black performers moving up there for a month to demonstrate that equality does exist: they are all going to lose approximately £10k putting on their shows, just like their white counterparts. Someone on social media had a stab at an explanation as to why African-Americans are so fascinated by our Dreadlock Ness Monster, saying: 'Part of the reason that Black people don't know anything Black people in Scotland is 'cause they barely teach Black people in America about Black people in America. This time next year, American textbooks are liable to say that Martin Luther King was a public speaker. So no, we don't know about all of y'all.' And most Black people in the world have known for quite a while that African-Americans suffer from the same affliction as their white counterparts – from Main Character Syndrome. It's all about them, and whatever's happening to them is vitally important to everyone else around. In this, they are like our slow, dysfunctional cousins who don't realise that we all have the same grandparents. They love to speak about how their experiences as 'descendants of slaves' makes them unique, meanwhile Black Caribbeans and Brazilians (who have the largest population of people of African descent outside of Africa) are left thinking: 'Then what are we – chopped liver?' To our African-American cousins, I say this, in the spirit of kindness it is intended: get over yourselves. All of our ancestors made the same boat ride, they just got off at different stops. Do some exploring. Go out and discover seasoned haggis, and how well rum goes with Irn-Bru. And just wait until you hear about Black Japanese folk…

‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black
‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black

The Independent

time18 hours ago

  • Entertainment
  • The Independent

‘Yes, this accent comes in melanin' sums up the trouble with being Scottish and Black

If every day is a school day, it's been an amazing week for many African-Americans as they discover that Black Scottish people exist. A TikTok video by @starboysobersfitness has gone viral after he filmed himself in his car ranting about this summer's weather in Scotland. Not the sort of thing that would normally warrant almost four million views and counting. And even Torgi Squire – a 43-year-old Glaswegian fitness influencer with locs, all the right muscles beneath his Under Armour and a killer-watt smile – admitted to not understanding the sudden and overwhelming popularity of this one clip… until he filmed a follow-up in which he took questions from his legion of new fans. And there's one answer that gives the game away, and it's one that tells you that many of his followers are on the other side of the Atlantic. 'Yes,' he says eventually, in his caramelly Scottish burr, 'I am Black.' Despite pointing out to a queue of disbelieving African-Americans that he is far from the only one in the village, that 'no, I'm no Sassenach', and that, yes, there are many other Black Scottish people, his roots still come as something of a surprise to the distrusting internet. To the point where he has to keep making the same point, in as many different ways as he can bear to offer: 'Welcome to Black Scottish TikTok ', he says; 'I'm 100 per cent Scottish beef'; and – best of all – 'Yes, this accent comes in melanin, too.' Comments from viewers include gems such as "Mind blown", "How long have Black folk been in Scotland??? I had no idea lol", and " Is there racism in Scotland too? Real question…" It's easy to laugh at Americans – so, so easy… – but I can understand where the confusion comes from. I was born in south London, to Dominican and Bajan parents, and I spent a few years growing up in Syria. The first time I met a Black Scottish person, I was floored. I felt like a Love Is Blind contestant clapping eyes on the man who is going to be my fiancé. I was aware that I was staring intently and kept repeating: 'It's so weird trying to match the face to the voice…' That was nearly 35 years ago, before the internet was a thing. It wasn't that I didn't know they existed, I just hadn't met any. And besides, a little cognitive dissonance never hurt anybody. Meeting Black Scots was really exciting, and we exchanged stories of our experiences growing up in our respective cities. And as we often do, we found that many of us from the African diaspora have been through things that are eerily similar. We have all been compared to Black people that we looked nothing like – and at times, you will even embrace the lies. For me, it's 'Naomi? Yes!' 'Whoopi? No…' Casual racism is frightening in its unoriginality, wherever it's from. As August means the Edinburgh Festival, the Black population in Scotland has increased exponentially, with Black performers moving up there for a month to demonstrate that equality does exist: they are all going to lose approximately £10k putting on their shows, just like their white counterparts. Someone on social media had a stab at an explanation as to why African-Americans are so fascinated by our Dreadlock Ness Monster, saying: 'Part of the reason that Black people don't know anything Black people in Scotland is 'cause they barely teach Black people in America about Black people in America. This time next year, American textbooks are liable to say that Martin Luther King was a public speaker. So no, we don't know about all of y'all.' And most Black people in the world have known for quite a while that African-Americans suffer from the same affliction as their white counterparts – from Main Character Syndrome. It's all about them, and whatever's happening to them is vitally important to everyone else around. In this, they are like our slow, dysfunctional cousins who don't realise that we all have the same grandparents. They love to speak about how their experiences as 'descendants of slaves' makes them unique, meanwhile Black Caribbeans and Brazilians (who have the largest population of people of African descent outside of Africa) are left thinking: 'Then what are we – chopped liver?' To our African-American cousins, I say this, in the spirit of kindness it is intended: get over yourselves. All of our ancestors made the same boat ride, they just got off at different stops. Do some exploring. Go out and discover seasoned haggis, and how well rum goes with Irn-Bru. And just wait until you hear about Black Japanese folk…

I've got 11 kids and all their names start with letter A including my girl called Answer – trolls say they'll be teased
I've got 11 kids and all their names start with letter A including my girl called Answer – trolls say they'll be teased

The Sun

time17-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Sun

I've got 11 kids and all their names start with letter A including my girl called Answer – trolls say they'll be teased

COMING up with one name you love can be hard enough as a parent, let alone 12. But this couple have revealed the unique monikers they gave to their bumper brood - and they all start with the letter A. 2 2 Karissa Collins, 42, from the US, went viral on TikTok after sharing the names of her family. In the clip, which has amassed over 10 million views, the mum stood with one of her youngest as they went through the whole family sharing their names, There was: Anchor, Anthem, Anderson, Answer, Aniston, Anisa, Angelie, Angel, Andre, Arrow and Armor. But after sharing the unique names people on TikTok weren't so sure what to make of them. Many thought the kids would grow up to be bullied because of their names, whilst others praised the mum for going outside the box with her choices. "They're going to get teased for those names later on, just cruel really," one person commented. "What's happening here? I had to listen again just to make sure I heard it right," a second wrote. "Bro just picked up a dictionary and started naming them in order," someone else joked. "Anchovies was in the bathroom during filming," another joked. Others shared some other name suggestions for the mum, poking fun at her seemingly random A-names. "Armadillo, Alopecia, Avocado," one said. Meanwhile, others suggested: "Ancestor, Ambulance, Alphabet, Acne, Algorithm." Not everyone hates the names though, as one person said: "I love them, stunning children too." "You have a beautiful family," another chimed in. This isn't the first time the mum has faced backlash online though, as trolls roasted her when she revealed she'd been pregnant 15 times since the age of 25 and has barely had a break from baby bumps in nearly two decades. One again posting on the account @TheCollinsKids, the mum stunned fans in May when she announced yet another pregnancy, calling it 'the best Mother's Day surprise.' Karissa and her husband, who've been married for 18 years, welcomed their first child back in their mid-20s and haven't looked back since. Karissa first became a mum at the age of 25, and has subsequently been pregnant when she was 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 39 and 40. She's also suffered three miscarriages in between. Now, with over 700,000 followers tuning in for a glimpse into her busy, bustling household, Karissa is unapologetic about her life choices and even encourages other women to take the leap into big family life. She said: 'It's not that scary. I promise you will figure it out. And it honestly gets easier. You don't have to keep your hands to yourself! Have all the babies and live with no regrets.' But while many cheer her on from the side-lines, Karissa also faces brutal backlash from trolls who claim her lifestyle is harmful, not just to her, but to her kids. One commenter raged: 'This is not okay – you barely have enough time for each child to get your attention. It's not even funny anymore, I feel bad for the kids.' Another slammed: 'You're hurting your kids by continuing to take attention away from them. No human can give the same amount of love to 12 different kids unless they never sleep.' Others accused the couple of only having children for content, saying the older kids must be doing the bulk of the work around the house. Still, Karissa isn't fazed. For her, motherhood isn't just a lifestyle, it's a calling.

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