Adam Vasco: Reclaiming My Narrative

Director of Diversity and Inclusion Adam Vasco shares his own experience of reclaiming his narrative in light of this year’s Black History Month theme.

Whenever I start a keynote, a workshop, or a talk, I tend to throw up a slide that’s become a signature of mine: my head superimposed on Will Smith’s 
as the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. It’s a light-hearted way to tell you a story “all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down.” But beneath the humour lies a deeper truth—one rooted in my experiences of identity, belonging, and internalised racism. I know I am trying to displace my own discomfort with humour, still trying to make someone laugh or smile as a defence mechanism - more of that later.

My early years and primary ages where idyllic, there is no doubt these experiences formed my decisions to enter those professions. However, at 11 years old, my world shifted. Moving to a secondary school where I was one of only three non-white pupils was a culture shock. As a mixed/dual heritage child, I was confronted with a choice I didn’t fully understand at the time: stand tall and be proud of my heritage or assimilate into the dominant culture. To my shame, I chose the latter. It may have only be 5 years, but the damage done meant I spent years rejecting parts of myself to fit in, a decision that had profound consequences and one that I’m still navigating to this day.

Assimilation took many forms. I chemically relaxed my hair for years, conforming to Eurocentric beauty standards. I internalised these standards, allowing them to shape my self-perception and, quite frankly, my self-worth. For a long time, I struggled with knowing who I truly was or where I fit in.

But as the years passed, I began to do the work of reclaiming myself. Studying Black History at university was one step. Returning to my natural hair—and then embracing locs—was another. Each of these moments has been part of a larger journey back to the identity I lost when I was 11. At 44 the journey is still ongoing!

I grew up in a beautifully diverse family. My dear old Dad, the eldest of nine, raised me in a Scouse/Nigerian household where I was deeply connected to my heritage. We’d regularly travel back to Nigeria and other parts of West Africa, and until I was 11, I knew exactly who I was. Vasco, Vax, very rarely Adam - only to my Mum and Dad. Then, everything changed. My dad became ill, and this period coincided with the relentless racism and microaggressions in secondary school that eroded my confidence and sense of self. I absorbed these experiences, internalising them as truths I carried into adulthood. I’d make the jokes before you could, as a shield—an attempt to protect myself from the racism I knew was coming. 

I reflect on that a lot now. 

Today, my work in the DEIB space is both professional and personal. The work I do is as much for myself as it is for the communities I serve. It’s a constant process of unlearning, relearning, healing, and standing tall in the heritage I once tried to hide. So this year’s #BHM theme resonates deeply. I am still doing the work. What about you?