The ordinary brilliance of black youths

When it comes to imagery surrounding black youngsters, I'm used to the relentlessly negative – knife crime, underachievement, family breakdown, we've all seen it.

I've just had an evening, though, which was the exact opposite – unremittingly positive. The occasion was the London Schools and the Black Child awards ceremony, organised by the MP Diane Abbott and held at the House of Commons.

It highlighted the academic achievements of black youngsters at GCSE, A-Level and degree level. This wasn't an evening celebrating mediocrity – the plague of the burgeoning awards industry – but a roll call of excellence and dedication. And it wasn't about just one or two exceptional cases (more often than not being subliminally interpreted as "the exception which proves the rule" by those who continue to see black people in entirely negative terms).

The power of the occasion was that we heard one story after another of young people defying the stereotypes, overcoming the odds – and, in many cases, giving back to their community too. Altogether, 24 tales of great achievement. And, even more significant, there were just as many boys represented as girls.

Youngsters such as Keli Dusu, who gained 5 As at A-level but has still found time to work as a volunteer for the Salvation Army Youth Club, and also to coach a group of autistic children. Or Rochelle Balach, who, without parental support, had to work to fund herself through sixth-form college, yet still emerged with three A-grades. Or Hannah Kendall, who has just qualified with a first-class degree from the Royal College of Music, had her compositions performed by the Philharmonia Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall, and who volunteers at schools in Lambeth. And the story of Lawrence Price, diagnosed with learning difficulties and ADHD as a child, who rejected the extra help he was offered, and who has just graduated with a first in history from Oxford.

We also heard a touching and personal talk from Hollywood actor Naomie Harris about her own mother's drive to get a degree and eventually become a successful TV scriptwriter despite having Naomie when still a teenager.

The significance of all these stories was that, by hearing so many, it made the exceptional appear ordinary, and achievable. As I looked out over the Thames, though, I thought: how do we get these uplifting messages out there, beyond this House of Commons room – where they can challenge the relentless gangsta-rap videos, or negative news coverage? Where teenagers are given the message that blackness is about violence and aggression, and that to show any sign of academic interest is to be some kind of race sellout.

"You're in the media: will you be writing about this?" asked one person of me after the ceremony. And I thought: if a fight had broken out, or if one person had drawn a knife, the event would be front-page news. Such are the news values of my honourable profession.

Ultimately, this is a battle: between the multibillion music and media industries, and people like Abbott, who get on with schemes like this because it's the right thing to do. Waiting for these industries to change will take a very long time. In the meantime, though, it should surely be possible, for example, to circulate a DVD of this event in urban classrooms around the country, where it could have an immediate and positive impact. Can a sponsor can be found to fund such a thing?

For the record: I was outraged when Abbott sent her child to private school; but I have to say that organising an event like this far outweighs her ideologically off-message moment. One day, I hope, Abbott's message will get through; but in the meantime as least she has the pleasure of working with some bright, keen and enthusiastic young hopefuls and giving them huge inspiration.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/oct/05/london-black-children-awards