Notes From Germany
What I learned from a country reckoning with race
On my first international book tour for The Black Agenda, which took place in Germany, I had the opportunity to engage with diverse audiences and gain valuable insights. Initially surprised by the U.S. Embassy’s interest in a book about race-relations in the United States, I soon discovered that Germany and much of Europe are undergoing their own reckoning regarding discrimination against Black people within their borders.
During a dinner in Berlin with young Black leaders, the topic of Munich arose. I was warned that the city was the wealthiest in Germany, but also very conservative. My dinner friends shared that the city can be very challenging for Black people and later on, in Frankfurt, the sentiment was reiterated by a Black woman I met briefly.
Arriving in Munich, I was struck by the city’s beauty — flowing rivers, pristine streets and impressive buildings. It looked picturesque, almost utopia-like. However, as we explored the busiest parts of the city center, I began to notice patterns. For example, every man — noticeably white — was dressed similarly: a white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, paired with shades and tailored shorts. If you’re familiar with Succession, everyone looked like relatives of the Roys. I imagine this is what the kids call quiet wealth, except to me at least, this kind of wealth was particularly loud. It screamed “you don’t belong here if you don’t look like us” and surely I didn’t look like them so alas, I didn’t belong.
Additionally, there was a notable absence of Black people walking around. Where we sat to eat had no person who passed the paper bag test, leading my father, moderator, and I to stand out in the sea of cigarette smoke and white faces. Finally, the segregation was palpable, with a predominantly Arab area just two streets away from the city center, a side of Munich that disrupted the veneer of seamless glamour.
While the talk went well, there was a racist incident that took place on camera in the middle of the event. An older white man heckled my moderator and I, vehemently denying the existence of racism while photographing the crowd. He began moving closer and closer towards us, so much so that security had to be called. This went on for minutes, which further justified why the talk was taking place and how far behind race relations conversations were in Munich.
One man in the audience, whom I would have deemed as white-passing, made it clear that he wasn’t ‘the right kind’ of white. He recounted that holding the German flag drew uncomfortable stares and sneers came from ‘real’ white Germans in the city. I was initially shocked, but soon my surprise faded. The people I had met on the tour had taught me something about European countries, especially Germany: for some, there is a ‘right way’ to be white, and it is heavily policed through race and ethnicity.
This is why most non-white Germans do not identify as German but rather from the country their family migrated from. It’s also why the lack of data surrounding migrant populations in Europe does not bode well for understanding outcomes that are shaped by identity.
Despite some of my woes in Munich, the rest of Germany proved to be a lesson in resilience, community, and hope. In Berlin, I had meaningful discussions with high-ranking individuals at the Embassy, community leaders, and citizens. In Frankfurt, I was inspired by a younger, vibrant crowd to keep fighting the good fight.
I learned that despite being a minority, Black individuals in Germany were mobilizing and advocating for change. Notably, Tiaji Sio, founder of Diplomats of Color, aimed to increase representation within the foreign service in Germany. Allie and Aisha Bangura, co-founders of ADAN netzwerk, connect Black students and professionals to opportunities across the country and beyond. This is the hope that assures me of Germany’s future — one that is inclusive and equitable for all, one that honors Black humanity to the fullest.
