In the past week I’ve embarked on at least five separate stress-induced baking sessions, buried myself in my work, watched every single soothing cookery video online and walked until I couldn’t recognise the neighbourhood I found myself in. These were all my body and brain’s reactions as a Black British woman to the enormity of recent events that affected my community. Footage of the killing of George Floyd at the hands of a white police officer kickstarted a revolution in the minds of millions around the world, but it does not mean the trauma of seeing another Black life cruelly snuffed out doesn’t cut deep.

It’s easy to forget these historic events are occurring while we are still coping with the COVID crisis and the disproportionate affects it has within Black and Asian communities (including the tragic death of British rail worker Belly Mujinga in the UK). With protesters out on the streets demanding respect for all Black lives, hashtags lighting up everyone’s social media feeds, and every company from McDonald’s to PG Tips exclaiming their supposed love for the Black community, the world at large has become a catalyst for change, with Black people at the centre. Many people are reconsidering how they can support Black communities in a way that allows them to thrive as well as survive.

This belief has opened up the conversation on Black life in every part of society, including in entertainment. The question of how Black artists are treated in the music industry has been ongoing since the industry’s inception, with little done over the years to quell Black artists’ concerns. As a Black musician, I’ve felt my band’s music has been pigeonholed and misunderstood by many in the music industry, seemingly because there was confusion of how a Black band playing punk would sell to what industry execs often assumed would be all-white audiences.

The lack of imagination for Black artists reflects the lack of diversity behind the scenes of the labels and collectives, no matter how small or DIY, which refuse to support Black artists. Inspired by recent political action, a group of senior Black music industry executives have signed an open letter calling for action on racism within the sector. The letter states: “The music industry has long profited from the rich and varied culture of Black people for many generations but overall, we feel it has failed to acknowledge the structural and systematic racism affecting the very same Black community and so effectively, enjoying the rhythm and ignoring the blues.”

While the inner workings of larger major labels probably will not directly impact many of the artists, on the ground, grassroots action can help. Black people starting their own labels, collectives and DIY movements are an essential step in helping Black artists reach new audiences and continue to create. The grime collective and record label Boy Better Know, are the perfect example of how Black people can take back control from an industry that regularly seeks to disempower Black artists. I’ve tried to make change myself by organising in the punks of colour collective Decolonise Fest, which celebrates people of colour in the punk scene. To support these movements the attention and investment of white fans can make a huge difference. Signing up to small label subscription services or buying directly from DIY organisations run by Black people makes a huge difference. Beyond these moves, simply shouting about your favourite Black artists or contacting labels you think they should work with, can help many in the industry see the potential in supporting Black art.

While change needs to happen behind the scenes, a powerful shift in attitude and approach to artists can also come from those in front of their record player who are fans of Black artists. As a Black musician myself, I’ve always wondered how committed white members of my audience are to the person behind the songs they claim to love. I write to connect with other Black women and magnify the real thoughts, fears, and truths of Black women in a world that often offers no space for us. There are so many other artists of colour who use their music for similar aims. Philadelphia based Moor Mother regularly infuses her rage with snappy, lyrical dexterity to create protest songs about Black injustice. ONO, from Chicago’s underground scene, use industrial noise funk to highlight the history of African-Americans. South London rapper Che Lingo’s recent single “On My Block” is a mournful reaction to the police’s brutal restraint of Lingo’s friend, which left him permanently brain damaged. Our work is inherently political and should be viewed as such.

As readers of The Wire, I’m sure many white people right now are considering the many artists of colour they listen to. You may have a record collection full of Black artists and artists of colour from around the world but the real question is, does the diversity of your record collection reflect the diversity of your real social life or approach to the world? In the work of so many experimental Black artists, there is a framework white people can use to contextualise the systemic racism that impacts Black people, but they have to take the first step themselves.

Supporting Black artists, as a white fan during traumatic times such as these, means reconsidering your connection to an artist’s work. Do you understand the themes conveyed in the music you listen to? If not, read up on the issues that arise in their work to understand the context in which their work was born. Merely listening to an artist of colour does not mean your anti-racism work is done. Unless you are working consistently to re-educate yourself on racism, those radical words of Black artists that you may mouth back when you’re in the middle of the pit at a performance will fall from your lips as meaningless jargon, unaware the words were most likely squarely aimed at you in the first place.

If you mainly listen to artists of colour, from the global South, ask yourself how you relate to these artists. Do you understand the culture and histories they claim? Ask yourself whether you may – unknowingly – be part of an audience that stereotypes a musician because they are from another culture. Do you truly know the history of the music scenes you love? Scenes which may be overrun with well dressed white men now, but were born of Black working class struggle and were a creative outlet for many oppressed people. Finally, do you feel uncomfortable reading these words? If yes, then good. It is a positive emotion. To move forward and make real change in the world we first need to reckon with our own culpability in the many systems of oppression that fuel our unequal societies. That means a period of discomfort while coming to terms with the reality of systemic racism.

As a listener, celebrating Black art should go hand in hand with celebrating Black people and Black culture. If they have not been aligned in your mind before, now is the time for change.

Stephanie Phillips performs with the group Big Joanie. Find them on Bandcamp.