When Alicja Tokarska moved to Scotland at the age of 19, she discovered for the first time how it felt to be ‘the other’. Here she explores the themes of otherness, reshaping one’s identity and embracing one’s culture that can be found in Nana Mensah’s Queen of Glory. 

I remember very well the excitement of moving abroad. What I didn’t know those thirteen years ago was that wanting to fit in with my Scottish friends would drive me to erase my ‘Polishness’ as much as possible. I loathed my foreign accent and the fact I didn’t understand many cultural norms or references. Having learned English at school, and not through actual conversations, my language was quite textbook-y, which made me feel embarrassed and shy. I avoided spending time with other Polish people. Instead, I joined a student TV club (full of Scottish folk), but for the first year I barely spoke to anyone.

Still, looks-wise, I fit in well with the people around me – my otherness was never visible. For Black people living in a predominantly white society that’s not the case.

Although I will never know how a Black person feels surrounded mostly by white people, when I watched Sarah Obeng’s journey, there were times I felt a strong connection to the character. Played by the director and writer herself, Sarah is a daughter of Ghanaian immigrants, who comes from the Bronx. She’s a PhD student at Columbia who’s about to move to Ohio with her married boyfriend. When her mother suddenly passes away however, these plans have to take a backseat. To the Bronx she returns.

When we meet Sarah, she’s dressed in jeans and a simple top. With her hair also lacking its natural texture it’s clear that she’s choosing not to share her Ghanaian heritage. On the surface, she’s completely assimilated to the white American culture. Her mother’s death brings with itself a group of Ghanian relatives and friends, traditional food and funeral customs, and as Sarah navigates these situations, it becomes evident that there’s a clash of cultures.

On one hand, her eagerness to initially disconnect from her Ghanaian heritage isn’t surprising to me – being an outsider is not the most comfortable position to be in. This can also be seen in Sarah’s Russian neighbours. As the only white people at the wake, the family is visibly uneasy. This is brilliantly captured in a short exchange between Sarah and Tanya, who notes that the gathering appears to be a “family affair”, to which Sarah responds “No, everyone’s just Black”.

However, running away from one’s roots can be unhealthy, lower one’s self-esteem and even result in an identity crisis (which I know very well). Interestingly, Sarah is only able to express her grief, and finally lets the tears flow during her mother’s funeral. Dressed in a traditional, black-and-red dress, with her hair back in its natural texture, Sarah seems to have found a way to combine the two cultures that make her.

And what about me? Nowadays, I see my Polish upbringing and my ever-changing accent as integral parts of me. I identify as a Polish Scot and I’m very proud of it. If we were all the same, the world would be a pretty dull place. Let’s be proud of our differences and make space for others to celebrate theirs.

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