Choosing To Challenge - The Story of My Ten Year Old Self by Mia Maugé
I have to say that challenging societal norms is my norm. By my very existence, I am ‘protest’. To put that into context… my London birth in 1965 was nestled neatly between the hate and prominence of Oswald Mosely and Enoch Powell…. The latter’s “Rivers of Blood” speech came less than 3 years after me being the product of an interracial coupling.
My dad was from Trinidad and my mother from England. I could have been the poster for all those clinging on to an ‘old England’ and the ‘good old days’, representing what they feared most... A dilution of their race. The timing of my birth meant that I experienced the tail end of a colonial-infused society and its education system. As part of the first generation of children born in the UK to ‘West Indian immigrants’ now known as the Windrush Generation… we were the first wave of black children (or what would now be called children of colour) to go through the British education system at primary school age in large numbers. Having been subjected to curious strangers on buses calling me ‘curly’ and reaching to touch my hair, to local shopkeepers, happy to take my pocket money in exchange for their sweets, but opting to put my due change on the counter instead of into the awaiting cupped palm of my infantile hand. Needless to say, we avoided that particular shop.
Being asked by IGR to recall a time when I “chose to challenge”… got me thinking… there have been so many times over the years…. I’ve made my working career a purposeful one, challenging societal perception and discrimination. However, I thought I’d share my earliest memory of actively challenging society independently at the age of about 10.
My best friend and I were fortunate enough to be brought up in homes that were very politically conscious, and we were immersed in black empowerment ideology from a young age. We were as close to sisters as friends can be… born within a month of one another. English mothers, and Trini dads, our families moved into a small new block of 6 flats (social housing for interracial couples who were facing discrimination from landlords at that time) in early 1970 when we were just 4 years old. It was the year of the Mangrove 9 trial, and my friend’s dad was one of the defendants, he would later become a prominent black activist in the UK.
By the tender age of 10 my bestie and I were seasoned activists, we had been on countless demonstrations up and down the country challenging police corruption and brutality against the black community in the UK. Denim jackets were the fashion item of the day, and my friend and I both had one. I remember waiting excitedly at my friend's mum’s sewing machine watching as she customised our new jackets… carefully sewing circular patches on the back of them. I had a turquoise patch with an indignant black power fist emblazoned on it.. and my friend had a pan African coloured patch that proudly affirmed the words “Black Is Beautiful”.
I remember her mum thoughtfully positioning silver studs around the patches. This would have been sometime in the mid-70s. We were brought up to be proud of our roots in the Caribbean, but also beyond that... proud of our roots in Africa. The primary school we went to didn’t have a uniform, and so my bestie and I would later wear our new jackets, patches displayed at the centre of our shoulders. With our afros in the mix too, we were mini walking placards for black pride!
Back in those days, schoolchildren were still taught ‘Rule Britannia’ and we were expected to sing it at the end of our weekly assembly. Our peers just went through the motions, not giving it much thought, but the lyrics (which I remember to this day) just irked my friend and me. The song was a relic of a bygone era… stinking of patriotism for a nation we couldn’t relate to... We found it offensive.
One day, instead of not singing along (which we usually did), we decided to replace the word ‘Britons’ with ‘Africans’... when we got to the last line of the song we sang “AFRICANS never never never shall be slaves!” at the top of our voices, and then raised our little fists in the black power sign. It didn’t matter to us that it appeared to go unnoticed by the teachers, this made it all the more empowering. The fools didn’t even notice! We knew what we had done, and we knew our ancestors would have been proud of us. It was one for them! Our own personal protest. We are still best friends to this day, and 45 years on, I believe I speak for both of us when I say that this small act of defiance, by those two little girls, was the beginning of a lifetime of challenging and calling out discrimination to benefit those who look like ourselves and look like our loved ones, in whatever space we've since found ourselves in.
Mia Maugé April 2021
Mia Maugé began a career as a music journalist and photographer in the early 90s. A love of music was the seed for her decision to go into this field, but perhaps more important to Mia, was creating the opportunity to provide a platform and a voice for what was then called ‘black music’. There was overt discrimination, and genres like hip hop, soul, RnB, weren’t included on mainstream radio, they weren’t included in the charts and awards shows. and neither were they afforded lavish marketing budgets from their labels like other genres were. Black music was considered ‘niche’ and ‘underground’ at that time. There was a thriving ‘underground scene’ that included club nights, independent record shops, there was one black-owned radio station… Choice FM, and a few independent publications specialising in ‘black music’. Mia successfully pitched a story about a new emerging genre called ‘Gangsta Rap’ to one of these publications; Touch Magazine, and so began her journalism journey. Amongst others, her work was published in The Voice, Blues & Soul Magazine, Hip Hop Connection, and Mix Mag. She quickly worked her way to becoming Deputy Editor of the groundbreaking publication Touch Magazine, and was responsible for helping to bring the likes of Jodeci, Snoop, Dr. Dre, and D’Angelo (publishing his first-ever European interview) to a loyal European black music fan base…. And addressing topics like ‘cultural appropriation before the term existed.
Whilst working for Touch Magazine, Mia also did a stint at Choice FM as an Assistant Producer for multiple shows. Choice FM was the first and only black-owned legal radio station dedicated to providing a platform for what is now called ‘urban music’. There was no 1xtra and alike, nor any digital platforms back then…. It was a baron landscape for black music. She also went on to create and produce a show for Grove FM, a community radio station set up by Dread Broadcasting Corporation founder, the late, Leroy ‘Lepke’ Anderson. Dread Broadcasting Corporation founder Lepke has died The show was a magazine show called ‘The Buzz’ and it focussed on emerging talent, mostly from the Ladbroke Grove area. The likes of ‘All Saints’ were interviewed ahead of their international success in the 90s.
In 1996, Mia was headhunted by the entrepreneur Kanya King, who was in the process of building a team to deliver music awards show committed to countering the discrimination black music faced at that time. The show was set to air on mainstream TV and would be thefirst of its kind. A celebration of music that was being largely ignored by the mainstream broadcasters and the music industry as a whole. As a founding team member of The MOBO Awards (Music of Black Origin), Mia’s passion to elevate and create exposure for music that was so undervalued was the driving force behind her spinning multiple plates to help pull off a slick production in just 6 weeks. Her responsibilities included everything from talent booking, to PR, to writing and editing the first MOBO magazine.
Mia’s association with MOBO went on to span decades. As part of the small core team, her roles included Head of HR, Head of PR (responsible for challenging the unfair negative press coverage faced by MOBO) MOBO Magazine Editor, and Consultant and Speech Writer. She was also PA to the CEO for a short time when she needed to cut back on hours to balance work and becoming a single mother. Whatever Mia’s role, her dedication to making a difference, and challenging discrimination were ever-present.
Today Mia is Director of Marketing and Communications for Notting Hill Carnival. Headhunted by the new organisers in 2018, Mia was tasked with challenging the unfairly negative media narrative that had plagued Carnival for much of its 50 plus year existence. Her strategy began by creating an authentic digital presence and persona, giving Carnival its own public voice and telling its own story through its community on social media. Mia is the strategist behind the marketing, comms, and PR activity that has successfully seen a shift in the media narrative. Again Mia’s desire to make a positive change for her community is what motivates her. Mia’s father was a Trinidadian musician, and very much an early pioneer of Notting Hill Carnival. With a mother who worked full time, as a child, Mia spent her summers with her musician father in the panyards and mas camps in ‘Grove’. “I was immersed in Carnival culture, the artforms, the music, the atmosphere in the committee offices, the banter between my dad and his friends in the panyards, the pan rehearsals, the pan tuning, the costume making, the anticipation of being on the road playing mas, or proudly chipping next to a vehicle watching my dad playing the drums or beating a cowbell. All of that has stayed with me. For me, this is the dream job. I see Carnival as a gift from my father, who passed away when I was just 18. What a privilege it is that I get to honour, celebrate, preserve and protect this legacy.”
In addition to her Carnival work, Mia has recently embarked on a new career in modelling. Fed up with a lack of representation of midlife women in beauty and fashion marketing, Mia decided to go public with her Instagram page. She aimed to be vocal and visible and to hopefully connect with like-minded women. “I could see that brands were just beginning to use silver-haired models, but I had yet to see anyone who looked like me. They were all slim and white.... all very ‘beautiful’, but there are so many different kinds of ‘beautiful’!.. And as we know representation matters! I also felt it unjust that I shop on the high street surrounded by images of young women. I give my money to these brands that ignore my very existence as a midlife, midsized, black woman, and that’s simply not right. We don’t stop caring about ourselves just because we are older. There is still beauty beyond youth… and we need to appreciate this as a society.” Within a few months of being “visible and vocal” on Instagram Mia caught the attention of Pulse Films who produced the Channel 4 Documentary ‘Afro Power’ which she appeared in, she was approached to do a cover shoot for Crochet Magazine and was photographed for the book ‘Good Hair’ by Charlotte Mensah for Penguin
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