The debate about Labour's all-women shortlists makes for depressing reading if you are a black woman. As the Labour party decides how to fill seats left vacant by retiring MPs such as Tony Banks, one minute it's "we need more women MPs", the next it's "but not at the expense of having more ethnic minorities"; the assumption being that all-women shortlists prevent others - namely black or Asian men - from being given a chance. But hang on a minute, what about me?
The debate goes eerily quiet, everyone looking to the floor with embarrassment, when the subject of black women, the least represented group of all, comes up.
There are just two black women MPs, both Labour (Diane Abbott and Oona King), of 13 black MPs, 119 women and 659 MPs in total. That's right, two. Given that there are well over 2 million ethnic-minority women in this country, that's an awful lot of representation left to Abbott and King.
The argument around shortlists has polarised two camps used to squaring up to each other: Labour women are, rightly in my book, arguing for more all-women shortlists. Meanwhile, black male commentators and groups such as Operation Black Vote (OBV) are arguing for open shortlists in areas where there is a high proportion of ethnic minorities, their thinking being that a black or Asian man might succeed against a white woman. But aren't both groups missing the point? Why are black women so appallingly under-represented? Surely, instead of trying to steal each other's seats and wasting their energies arguing across each other, they should come together and argue the case for more black women candidates? As it stands, pro-shortlist Labour supporters are falling over themselves to represent me as a woman, and OBV is standing up for my rights as an ethnic minority, but both shirk the responsibility of giving me what I really want: to see myself represented in the corridors of power in terms of gender and race. The choice, it seems, is that you can be represented by your gender, or by your colour, but it is simply too much to ask for both.
It feels like I'm being asked which would I rather lose, my sight or my hearing? And for black women it's an all too common feeling. We are constantly either completely ignored or asked to pledge our allegiance - which matters to you most, your race or your gender? - before anyone will listen. If the debate is about women's equality, we are expected to agree with white women because they are women; if the debate is about race, we are expected to agree with black men. What I resent most about the current debate is that, once again, someone is making decisions on my behalf: Labour women are assuming I'd rather be represented by a woman, OBV is assuming I'd rather be represented by a black man.
Sure, both groups make the right noises about wanting to represent black women, but I have yet to see any evidence. "In principle, there's absolutely no reason why an all-women shortlist shouldn't be used to promote black women candidates as there are lots of strong black women around," Katherine Rake of the feminist Fawcett Society told BBC news this month. "What this [lack of candidates] points to is the broader problem the Labour party, indeed all political parties, have in promoting black candidates. But it's not all-women shortlists per se which are discriminatory."
All very laudable, but it would be much more believable were it not for the fact that since 1997 (and 50 selections using all-women shortlists) not a single black woman has been selected.
Meanwhile, some in the black community have started to complain that all-women shortlists are at the expense of other minorities; it seems that the idea of campaigning for more black women in parliament hasn't even occurred to them, or if it has, they'd rather sort the men out with some seats first. "In a constituency which has more than 50% black and ethnic minority communities they really ought to also think about addressing the even-bigger deficit, which is the lack of black and ethnic minority MPs," said Simon Woolley of OBV earlier this month. An even bigger deficit than two MPs out of 659? I don't think so.
How refreshing it would be if someone suggested that getting more black women MPs was a matter of urgency. What a difference it would make if just once the duality of black women's identity was seen as an electoral bonus, not as an irritation. No minority should be arguing against women-only shortlists: instead they should be arguing for themselves to appear on them. And, by the same token, the Labour party should look long and hard at its selection process and wonder why no black women get through. Or perhaps they should call it what it is: an all-white-women-only shortlist.
