There are many men in my life
that I look up to.

I have two grandfathers
of the Windrush Generation

that came to this country in the 1940s

and now in their 80s,
have comfortably retired.

I have a father: funny,
intelligent, and rich in wisdom.

And sometimes, when I'm
in the presence of these men,

I feel as if I'm
in the presence of greatness.

But sometimes, when I look
too long into these eyes,

I see eyes full of pain and regret.

I see the eyes of men

that didn't completely break
the cycles of abuse

that they saw their fathers commit.

I see men that claimed

that they would be radically different
to the men that came before them,

but sometimes, just sometimes,

they find that they embody that
which they once despised,

and it breaks them.

I see eyes that speak volumes,

but mouths that would never articulate
the pain that they feel.

I speak of the men in my life,

but really, my life is dominated by women.

I come from a powerhouse

of strong, fearless, passionate,
and compassionate women:

two Caribbean immigrant grandmothers
that worked tirelessly for their families,

whilst continuously overcoming the odds;

a mother - the epitome
of strength and resilience;

five sisters - the dreams
of our grandmothers;

aunties and cousins whose wisdom
remains the soundtrack to my life;

and a niece, Disney Channel,
emoji-obsessed

(Laughter)

but with the heart of everything
I could ever aspire to be.

But three years ago,
something very strange happened.

In a South London hospital,
at about quarter past midnight,

for the first time in a very long time,
a little boy went into our lives.

What were we going to do with a boy?

It was all very new for us,
but we would have to deal with it,

as you do.

And I remember when he was born,
and I remember being transfixed,

particularly by his eyes.

Because when I looked into his eyes,
I didn't see eyes full of pain and regret.

I saw eyes that were blameless

and held inordinate propensity
for greatness.

I saw eyes that could break cycles

and redefine what masculinity meant
for a new generation of men;

eyes that no longer had to be silenced;

eyes that could cry --
and believe me, they would cry now!

But how would they [gear] down the line?

Feminism: we've been told it's about
ridding our culture of sexist thinking

in order to liberate women.

So, my nephew doesn't really come much
into that conversation.

But if we saw feminism
as a means of freeing our culture

from patriarchal thinking and domination,

then the conversation would change.

(Applause) (Cheers)

Thank you.

Narratives surrounding feminism
have often focused solely

on why women need feminism.

We focused on individuals,
the battle of men versus women

rather than a multifaceted
system of patriarchy

that, too, harms our bothers,
fathers, and friends.

Of course, women face
the consequences of sexism

in a very tangible way, on a daily basis,

and so it makes sense that we would be
at the forefront of feminist movements

and their attempts to end sexism.

We face inequality in the workplace,

we are discriminated against
much within public policy,

and a president can be elected
into the so-called free world

that espouses hate
and violence towards us.

It is imperative that feminism
transforms and empowers women.

But for me, realities of patriarchy
are realities that affect us all,

and revolutionary feminist thought
is the understanding

that being seriously committed to feminism
means being seriously committed

to ridding our culture
of patriarchal thinking

that harms both men and women.

Because from an early age,

boys are taught that they must
perform masculinity

in an hegemonic manner

or their chance
of social survival is slim.

They are taught that they must be tough,

and consequently, when they feel weak,
they must perform strength;

when they feel inadequate,
they must perform confidence;

and when they feel emotional,
they must only ever perform anger.

So in 2014, when Emma Watson
became the bastion for modern feminism,

claiming HeForShe was the mode in which
we needed to adopt a new feminism,

I feel as if the point failed to grasp

the entirety of the situation
we currently face.

The campaign argued

that men and boys
should be encouraged to take action

against negative inequalities
faced by women and girls,

in order to be agents of feminist change.

In other words, men should be allies.

But how can we ask men to just be allies

when they are, too,
victimized by the same system?

How can we ask men to be allies

in a world that leaves them
20 more times more likely to be imprisoned

because they are taught to be violent;

four times more likely to commit suicide
because they are taught to be silent;

and the least likely to ask for help,
both physically and mentally,

because they are taught to be strong?

Much of the performance
around masculinity

is rooted in men not being able
to express how they feel

in the same way that women can.

And so, when I talk about radical
and revolutionary feminism,

I talk about feminism
that understands the importance

of ridding patriarchal culture
in men, for men.

A feminism that understands
the importance of spaces

where men can engage in dialogue
that patriarchal culture doesn't permit,

where they can talk about their worries,
their interpersonal relationships,

and their personal growth

so that cycles of pain
and regret can be broken.

At a quarter past midnight,

when my beautiful nephew
entered this world,

I asked myself,

"How will a young black boy
from South London engage in a dialogue

that encourages him
to think critically about masculinity,

that inspires him to question
pre-existing notions

of what it means to be a man,

and to get to grips with the entirety
of who he is as an individual

by exploring a plethora of his emotions?"

Feminism, we've been told,
looks like this, this, and this.

But what if I told you
that radical and revolutionary feminism

was taking place right now,

and it looks more like this,
this, and this?

In 2016, [Tis, Donae'O] and Cadet
released a song which I consider to be

one of the most radical and revolutionary
feminist projects of the year,

"Letter to Krept."

The song outlines the relationship
between himself and his cousin,

another famous rapper, Krept.

In the song, he outlines his fragmented
relationship with his cousin,

and discusses how
constant comparison to his cousin

has caused him much pain.

He publicly voices troubles
he has had within his family relationship

and outlines mechanisms for healing.

He finishes the song
by telling his cousin that he loves him,

and reverses the narrative of what male,
particularly black male relationships

are supposed to look like.

Cadet subverts the notion
that grime is hyper-masculine

in more ways than one,

and shows how rap can be used
to subvert particular discourse

within popular culture music.

If that wasn't legendary enough,
his cousin released a song replying,

telling his side of the story.

For me, the two rappers indicate

what healing patriarchal discourse
in the public square can look like.

Rap, a culture that foreign eyes
have often dubbed as hyper-masculine,

has provided a space where two men
can engage in healing dialogue.

And this song doesn't stand in isolation;

it's true to say that rap
provides an outlet,

whatever that outlet may be.

Feminist thinking has always understood

the importance of outlets.

Black feminists in the 1960s,
in deviating from mainstream feminism,

became increasingly concerned
with creating narratives

that expressed their lives
and their realities.

And it's true to say
that from such a generation,

we saw some of the best literature
a generation ever saw.

From the likes of Maya Angelou,
to bell hooks, and Toni Morrison,

rap continues that legacy.

This is a genre of music

that expresses the complexities
and realities of modern urban life.

It's provided an outlet of emotion

and the successful means
of getting men to engage in issues

that affect their lives
and their communities.

And yes, it is true to say
there is that rap music

which embodies
that which we wouldn't consider

to represent feminist ideals.

However, it is dangerous
to observe these realities

within a cultural vacuum.

If rap is patriarchal,
capitalist, and misogynist,

surely it's because it reflects a world

that is equally, if not more so,
patriarchal, capitalist, and misogynist,

and not because these are concepts
that have been created by this culture.

Rap is indeed a culture,
and it is diverse,

and it speaks many different languages,

and far too often we've only been told
of one those languages that it speaks.

And so the argument
that rap embodies all these evils

is ill-informed, short-sighted,

and a narrative
that too often we have heard.

But what if we flipped the narrative?

What if we saw rap differently?

If we saw it as a mode

in which men have been able
to discuss their emotions

in a vulnerable and fragile way.

Men who have been told
that their emotions aren't valuable

find a space where such value is given.

And in a society
where a growing number of men,

particularly black men,

are suffering from mental health problems

as a result of this lack of communication,

this mode of dialogue
should be celebrated as revolutionary,

and not evil and backwards.

bell hooks famously said

that "the soul of feminist politics
is the commitment to ending

patriarchal domination over the lives
of men and women, boys and girls."

And it is here, where we will see freedom.

Our happiness, our existence

is predicated upon the fullness
in which we can live,

and if men were able to live
in that fullness,

free from patriarchal domination
over their lives,

our realities would change,

we would see a cultural revolution.

For far too long, mainstream feminism
has critiqued a genre of music

that may be the closest thing
to radical feminism we have ever seen.

Because feminism wants to heal
patriarchal destruction,

and rap has and continues to provide

a means of dealing
with some of that destruction.

Rap and feminism can be best friends,

they just need to look at each other
with a new set of eyes.

Because we're living in a world

where hearts stop beating
and eyes start closing

every single day

because of the realities of patriarchy.

But we need to live in a world
where eyes can live, heal, and transform,

because the mandom need feminism,

and my nephew and little boys
across the world

need eyes that glisten with hope,

so that they, their sons,
and their grandsons can live fuller lives.

Thank you.

(Applause)