In 2019, The Guardian published a fascinating and moving essay by the novelist and screenwriter Courttia Newland. After I Tweeted the author, I went to look for the origin of the essay. It was an anthology called “Safe: on Black British Men reclaiming space” (“Safe: 20 Ways to be a Black Man in Britain Today”, in paperback) edited by Derek Owusu. I bought a signed copy.

“Safe” contained essays by many Black British men’s voices: journalists, poets, playwrights and actors; from the African continent, the Caribbean and the UK. The essays covered many topics including work, school, sexuality, families and fatherhood, as well as style and dancing: all aspects of Black British men’s lives.

There were many different and I didn’t agree with all of them, but that was not necessary as it was just fascinating to come across so many different views of life from the Black diaspora. As I read, I kept thinking of the book’s title: this book was a safe place for personal expression.

As I said, my copy was signed. Owusu had written a few words on the title page: “We’re just like you.” As I started reading, I though that this referred to a universality of experience between all peoples, but I was wrong. As I finished the last essay and read the authors’ biographies, I realised that the dedication referred to difference. “We’re just like you,” meant that each writer was just like every other person: an individual.