The Profile
Changing the picture: An interview with Bolanle Tajudeen
Bolanle Tajudeen, Founder and Director of Black Blossoms, talks about proving doubters wrong and why sometimes, change happens when you appeal to hearts and emotions.
By Nicole Chang
Credit: Black Blossoms
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By the time Bolanle Tajudeen went to university, she was keen to learn about more than just white men. Unfortunately for her, it turned out that white men were still very much a part of the curriculum.
“Going to university, I was really excited to learn about different things. And I think I felt a bit let down,” the founder and director of Black Blossoms School of Art and Culture tells QS Insights Magazine. “I was just like, okay, I'm still learning about white men and their thoughts in the world.
“I'm not interested in Hobbes. I'm not interested in Socrates. I'm actually interested in Audre Lorde, I'm interested in bell hooks. And I think I found it really hard to find or come across that kind of learning.”
In her third year at University of the Arts London (UAL), Tajudeen ran for the post of education officer in her student union, campaigning on the mandate of democratising and diversifying reading lists and pushing the university to centre more voices of colour in the curriculum. Around the same time, she founded Black Blossoms, now a curatorial platform and online art school dedicated to promoting inclusivity, diversity and cultural studies in contemporary art.
“Black Blossoms really came from a place of, not necessarily pain, but a place of– actually, I can create a platform to highlight those who I thought are not being highlighted,” says Tajudeen.
The organisation now runs short courses on topics such as Art and Revolutionary China, Black British Art and Art in the Age of Black Girl Magic. Black Blossoms has also collaborated with institutions including the Tate, The Photographers’ Gallery and Art on the Underground.
“I guess I didn't realise how interested I was in education until I was at university,” Tajudeen reflects. “I think everybody deserves a right to a fair, unbiased education. Everybody deserves the right to learn about things that they wouldn't necessarily have been taught in primary or secondary [school].”
Proving doubters wrong
Tajudeen describes her own education history as a “very interesting journey”. She grew up in care from the ages of 8 to 14, which disrupted some of her primary and secondary school education. “But I always wanted to learn,” she says.
This drive eventually led to her studying politics at a Russell Group university for a year, before deciding that the course and institution were not for her, and then subsequently moving to UAL to study public relations.
It was at UAL, says Tajudeen, that she started questioning society and its systems more. By that time, she had had her daughter and this put things into sharper focus. “I've got a young daughter who's dark-skinned, she's a woman, she's Black, and I'm thinking more about, okay, what kind of society is she going to grow up in, is she living in?,” she asks.
“I had started to unpack certain things from secondary school and just in my life regardless, and really understanding how race and identity and class had played a part in certain things.”
She recalls one day in school when she had just received the results for an English exam. A teacher came up to her and said how surprised she was that Tajudeen had done so well.
“People always used to tell me I was smart, but they never expected the smartness to come out,” she tells QS Insights Magazine. “I think I even still struggle with that now, because I speak the way I speak, sometimes slang gets dropped into the way I'm speaking or, you know, the hood comes out.”
“I struggle with people doubting me, and doubting my abilities a lot. And that's always happened, that's happened from secondary school, maybe even primary school.”
Another time, the principal sent a message to parents to stop students from wearing parka jackets – what Tajudeen describes as a sort of bomber jacket, with fur-lined hoods that she and her friends would wear pulled up over school uniform.
“I remember our head teacher writing to our parents saying that they didn't want us to wear the parka jackets to school no more, because we looked like gang members,” she says. “I remember at the time thinking: Right, that's rude.
“I think I actually felt racism in school,” she adds. “Looking back, I didn't have the language, I didn't have the means to express that I was facing a form of discrimination in school.”
“People always used to tell me I was smart, but they never expected the smartness to come out."
“I wasn't an activist – I was just naughty.”
Parkas aside, Tajudeen also remembers how she and her fellow students would often stage walkouts and mini-protests at school. But she is adamant that she was definitely not an activist when she was a teenager. “I wasn't an activist. I was just naughty,” she laughs. “So, any excuse not to be in class, I'm going to walk out.” She pauses for a moment, and says there’s a lot she wants to say, but wonders “do I really want it to be in an interview?”
Nevertheless, it’s tempting to trace through-lines from these early anecdotes to her subsequent activism at university, including with the famous #UALsoWhite hashtag, which Tajudeen coined.
The hashtag was sparked by a particular incident while she was education officer, she says. One day, a student called her up saying her tutor had told her that she shouldn’t use Black models for a particular fashion collection season, because the colours didn’t “pop”.
“I remember her [being] like, ‘our skin colours are not an accessory’,” Tajudeen recalls. “I remember being so angry, because I had been having conversations with senior management in UAL about the racism in some of their courses and the microaggressions that students were facing.”
What resulted was a wider campaign by UAL students and alumni, aimed at drawing attention to the lack of diversity in the institution.
“I've always been interested in politics,” Tajudeen reflects. “And I guess, Black Blossoms is an extension of my politics. I’ve always been interested in social justice and fairness, and really allowing people who come from backgrounds that have been marginalised to put forward their own views about society.”
And yet, she is particularly keen to stress that Black Blossoms is definitely not an EDI (equality, diversity and inclusion) school. “You're not coming to Black Blossoms to learn to be an ally. You're not coming to my school to learn how to, ‘oh, do I have more privilege than that person?’ Nah. I actually couldn't care less about that,” she says.
“What you're coming to the school for is to learn about the practices and the cultures that influence artists and creators of colour. That's what you're coming to the school to learn.”
Credit: Black Blossoms
"Black Blossoms is an extension of my politics. I’ve always been interested in social justice and fairness, and really allowing people who come from backgrounds that have been marginalised to put forward their own views about society.”
Ultimately, this is how you create change, says Tajudeen, adding that people can tend to switch off after a while when you talk at them about privilege and race. Her approach with the school is to focus on talking about the context around artists’ practices.
“If some of those artists have been influenced because of the racism or because of the inequalities they've come across, then so be it, we discuss that,” she says. “But not all of the artists have been, and therefore we don't need to discuss that.”
That’s not to minimise EDI initiatives at all, Tajudeen is quick to add, but more about not having Black Blossoms mispresented. “I think sometimes people see Black Blossoms – or can assume from the outside – that Black Blossoms is EDI. It's not,” she says. “It is really just teaching art from different worldviews and perspectives… art and creativity, and subjects around creativity, from different points of views that have been marginalised in the mainstream education system.”
Looking back to when she first started Black Blossoms, Tajudeen remembers coming to the conclusion that change doesn’t necessarily need to come from big, top-down politics. If people come into contact with a piece of art and hear the story behind it, that individual can be changed by this too, she says.
“It's not necessarily always about the macro. The micro is also important, and how you influence individuals rather than society as a whole,” she says. “If you can influence someone's heart and emotions, they're more likely to try to understand and foster a deeper understanding.”
That said, Tajudeen is equally clear about the responsibility big institutions, including universities, have to keep talking about and embedding equality and diversity, especially if they want to attract top talent or students from international backgrounds who are not white and male. “If people have not thought about different ‘isms’ that are in society, or they're only getting one lesson a term or one lesson a year on race or gender, it's not good enough,” she says.
“We need to be fostering the idea of making the world a better place for everybody, and not just a select few.”