Annie George

AG: I think when my parents came, it was really difficult then, you know, because we were the aliens, you know, and people were unused to seeing people with different traditions, clothes, food, all that. But there was a bit of...you know, there would be a bit of curiosity and, you know, the ability to live with that difference. It's just that the extremes of, you know, the people that were resentful about us being there were much more stark, I suppose, because Pa...I don't know. I mean, it seemed much more volatile in those days. I think there are more guardrails now, you know, with laws and...in general, it's just, you know, racism is seen as a bad thing, you know, and people act on it, as awareness is growing. So, that's a good thing. So I think it was difficult then.

MP: Can you expand a little bit more on what you mean about the volatility of racism, or the way in which people responded to you back then?

AG: I suppose people were unafraid to say what they thought, you know? And you would see...I mean, I remember like marches, National Front skinheads, all that sort of stuff. I remember the riots. That happened on my...Brixton riots happened on my 16th birthday. I remember that quite vividly, you know? So...

MP: Do you remember that from seeing television footage, or from being there?

AG: No, no. No, it was literally on my 16th birthday. So, I was in my house with some school friends, and then you just turn the TV on at 6 o'clock, and it was like, it's just gone nuts, you know?

MP: What do you remember of that kind of switching TV on and that feeling of it going nuts?

AG: Well, it was just...it was...that was 1981, so it was like there was that...it felt like there was...it was working up to…it was building up to that point, and then it just kept going, because there was all the riots everywhere else as well, in Bristol and Toxteth and, you know, places like that. And it felt like at the time it was really...there was something that was like a powder keg, you know, about to go off. You know, it's just that feeling of tension. And maybe it may...I suppose, is that...maybe that sort of started from the...that there was that rally where that guy got killed, Blair Peach got killed. I think it kind of really started...the motion really started then. I think that was in ’77 maybe. Because I think that's when Tara Arts was...had started as a result of that. And so, yeah.

MP: How did it make you feel?

AG: I think I was quite shocked, really. Because I'd always grown up around Black people, you know, had friends with...had been friends with Black people. So Black communities, I was kind of very familiar with it were...from where I came from. And then also, because there was a growing awareness of civil rights as well, because there was...yeah, it was around the time we had Roots, and there was a miniseries on Martin Luther King. It was just like ten...you know, just after ten years after he'd been assassinated. And there was a great awareness about civil rights. And because I was in a sort of largely Black area, you know, Black history was kind of very comfortable. So, I suppose it kind of felt personal to me as well, you know, because we weren't white as well. But I knew so many Black people, you know, and then you just had this awareness of all the race politics. So it was kind of the start of my awareness of all that at the time.

MP: So, tell me about the two different...like, so, you perform and you produce. They're quite different things, I suppose, in like kind of the same industry, right?

AG: Well, there wasn’t the parts, you know? There's no parts for brown people in Scotland either.

MP: So you would have been performing and performing and performing if you could just do performing?

AG: Yeah, yeah. But there's no work, you know? And people aren't writing the parts. There...and there aren't the actors to fill the parts, even if they were writing. It's a vicious circle, really. So, yeah, so there weren't...there wasn't anybody really working. There was literally less than a handful of people of colour in the performing arts at that time. So the only luck they would have is if there were parts...foreign parts, you know? I remember doing a reading at the Traverse years and years ago, and it was a play about Israel-Palestine. And so they got all the Asians in, you know, because they could use them. Do you know what I mean? So...you know, or if there was a Spanish play on, you might get a chance. But I mean, we just wouldn't be put in production, so you had to find other ways of making money, you know, making an income.

MP: And so the period we're talking about here, is it the '90s?

AG: '90s, yeah.

MP: Yeah. And so how, if they have, have things changed?

AG: Awareness. But nothing really changed until 2020, George Floyd. And then everybody was rush...was running around looking for people of colour. Anybody. They didn't have to have any skills, they just wanted bodies. I mean, they would pick them off the street and bus stops, you know, oh, do you want to be in a production? Or do you want to come and do this workshop? It's a numbers game. I mean, it's just awful. Because since I'd been in the business, I'd been advocating for greater diversity and representation, you know, for the people that are here, you know, that have a background in theatre, or that are really interested in pursuing a career in theatre. But it was...you know, it was really, really hard. And that's why I had to produce. And then in the end, that's why I started writing, because it's like nobody was writing parts, you know? And actually, because I was with CAT. A. [Theatre Company], because I was performing, I had good parts, you know, because the writers were writing for me. I was involved in the whole process.

MP: And how about your girls, how do they feel about their identity?

AG: They feel really proud of it. But it's quite funny though, because they've always called themselves Scots Indian. You know, they've always grown up with that idea. But they're very Scottish, you know?

MP: In what way?

AG: Just everything, really. I mean, they recognize...well, their nationality, I suppose. You know, I mean, the way they live, their lifestyle, you know, they’ve...I mean, their par...I mean, they’ve had strong connections to their grandparents, their Scottish grandparents as well, so they kind of have a sort of...but they seem to be able to navigate it much easier than I did. They're not as schizophrenic, you know, as I was. I suppose it's because of that, they haven't had the displacement. This is what they...this is just what they know. So they just take it as normal. But they're very proud of being part of...you know, having an Indian background. It gives...it makes them feel like they're part of something else. Yeah, so that's nice for them.

MP: And what about you, how would you describe your identity?

AG: I always call myself Indian, actually. Although, I suppose recently...I think...I mean, what I was saying was, when I did the research for the play about my grandfather back...I did it in 2014 with the original version. Me and my mum went home to speak to the last of my uncles about it. And I think that was at the point...I mean, I was 49 then, and I think that was the first time I just felt okay about who I was. And it was a result of doing all that research, you know, because it made me mine so much of my life and how I felt about things, and I felt at peace with who I was. So I don’t think it's to do with racism, you know, as much to do with race, as it's to do with my family circumstances and the ups and downs and the displacement and all that, more than it is about being the other. And I think...so, at the moment I'm just...I don't know, I...I think I'm coming to terms with the fact that I was born in India and I have a strong connection with my Indian family and heritage, but I'm somewhere in the middle, not entirely of here and not entirely of there. So...and I'm all right with that at the moment. I think it's a safe place to land.

Entry credit

Jess Farr-Cox