Our African diaspora youth belonging project researchers (pictured in our header image): Melanie Baak, Mwangaza Milunga, Benjamin Grant-Skiba, Yahya Djomani Ousmane, Zamda Omba, Habibat Ogunbanwo, Shaza Hamed, Elaine Ncube, Efon Luwala, Jeanne Munyonge
Nine youth researchers with varying connections to the African diaspora and one white settler had over 150 hours of conversations with African diaspora young people across Australia over two years. One issue arose repeatedly in nearly every conversation: the N-word.
Schools struggle with how to respond. For Afro-diasporic young people, it is part of their daily existence. Sometimes it’s a term of camaraderie and empowerment, other times harm and exclusion.
Teachers, administrators, and students alike are searching for guidance on how to handle its use. Some advocate for a strict ban, such as Tebeje Molla.
But a blanket prohibition does not account for the complexities of Afro-diasporic identity and the multiple meanings the word holds. Banning is not an equitable response. And it’s not effective. We argue schools must engage in deeper, more nuanced conversations about race, history, and power.
The N-Word and Black Identity in Australia
To understand the N-word’s significance in Australian schools, we must first grapple with what it means to be Black in Australia. The etymology of the word, after all, stems from the Latin for ‘black’.
The term is tied to the history of transatlantic slavery and Black resistance in the US. But Blackness in Australia is shaped by different historical and migration narratives. The controversial theme for the 1987 NAIDOC week was ‘White Australia has a Black history’, to recognise the long, proud history of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples on this continent and reference the lack of acknowledgement of atrocities committed against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
This history of Blackness is important to think about settler Blackness, i.e. racialized migrant groups such as those from the African diaspora.
The first African-diasporic settlers arrived in 1788 with the First Fleet. By 1840, approximately 500 people of African descent lived in the colony. Awareness of this Afro-diasporic history is limited. The focus is on the increase in African migration through humanitarian and skilled visa pathways since the 1990s.
This lack of historical recognition complicates the ways young people of African descent construct their identities in Australian schools today. Many participants in our study described feeling in-between. They didn’t feel they belonged as Australian. They also felt disconnected from the cultural traditions and identities of their parent’s generation. For many, global Black culture, through music and social media, is an important part of making sense of their own experiences of racialisation in Australia and the world. The N-word is part of this global Black culture. It is a word that carries deep pain, yet also one reclaimed as a marker of solidarity.
Why a Blanket Ban is Not the Answer
In his recent EduMatters article, Molla argues schools should implement a ban on the N-word, suggesting that such a policy would protect Black students from harm and ensure a safe, supportive learning environment. While we do not deny the significant historical violence tied to the word, we offer some reflections specifically relating to the call for a blanket ban.
Schools already recognize fairness does not mean treating all students the same. Equitable approaches require context-specific responses—whether in uniform policies for religious or gender diversity or accommodations for students with disabilities. The same principle should apply to language. The N-word is not just another offensive term like “f**k”; it carries deep historical and cultural significance. Yes, it is rooted in oppression. But it is also reclaimed by certain Black communities as a term of camaraderie and identity.
Does it undermine consistency?
Molla argues allowing Black students to use the N-word undermines consistency in anti-racism policies and may inadvertently normalise its use. However, a strict ban ignores the complexities of race, history, and linguistic reclamation. Instead of prohibition, schools should facilitate conversations about why certain words carry power and who has the right to use them.
The duality of the N-word—both harmful and reclaimed—creates confusion, particularly among non-Black students who encounter it in the media but may not grasp its history. Some, including South Asian and Pacific Islander youth, adopt it casually, assuming shared racial proximity. Others mimic pop culture without understanding its significance. This leads to tensions, as some Black students permit its use while others oppose it. The confusion is trivialised in some cases: such as students “selling” N-word passes to their peers.
Schools must acknowledge racism is not only perpetuated by white students. Afro-diasporic students in our study have reported racial slurs from South Asian, Middle Eastern, and other non-Black peers who either misunderstand or intentionally weaponize the N-word. Simply banning the word does little to address these underlying racial dynamics.
Context matters
The meaning and effect of the N-word shifts depending on who is using it, in what context, and for what purpose. A blanket ban erases these complexities. It does not teach students why the word carries power or how racialized language operates within broader systems of oppression. Instead, it risks further alienating Black students (or even more concerningly giving teachers further reason to disproportionately discipline them) who use the word as part of their cultural lexicon while doing little to address the systemic racism they experience in schools.
Context matters. While teachers and non-Black students should never use the word, an outright ban for all students is neither equitable nor enforceable. Educators need to distinguish between its use as a slur and its use among Black students as a term of identity or solidarity. Afro-diasporic youth should be able to define their own identities in their own terms, without those who’ve caused harm policing its use.
Who Enforces the Ban? And Whose Discomfort Matters?
A key question often overlooked in debates about banning the N-word is: Who is the ban really for?
Many Black students in our study have reported being told to “just ignore” racial slurs directed at them. Schools are historically slow to act on anti-Black racism. And Black students are often made to feel that their experiences of discrimination are not taken seriously. Yet, when students start using the N-word—whether through ignorance, mimicry of pop culture, or intentional harm—schools suddenly rush to impose strict prohibitions.
This pattern reflects broader institutional tendencies to act only when white discomfort is at stake. If a school that has ignored Black students’ complaints about racism suddenly bans the N-word because teachers or white students find it uncomfortable or difficult to manage, it raises the question: Whose harm and discomfort are being prioritized?
Moving Beyond Bans: A More Nuanced Approach
- Prioritise education over prohibition.
- Teach students about the significance of the N-word.
- Engage students in discussions about ways words carry different meanings in different contexts.
- Address racism in schools holistically.
- Ensure policies tackling racial slurs do not ignore broader systemic racism.
- Create clear mechanisms for addressing anti-Black racism beyond policing language.
- Recognise cultural spaces and self-expression.
- Acknowledge in-group language exists in all communities.
- Words change meaning, depending on the user.
- Apply consistent standards of self-determination.
- If schools respect LGBTQ+ students’ right to define pronouns and language, Black students should have the autonomy to navigate their own linguistic and cultural identities.
The conversation about the N-word in Australian schools is ultimately about more than just a word. It is about power, identity, and who gets to control the narrative of Blackness in this country. Schools must move beyond superficial bans and engage in meaningful, historically informed conversations about race, language, and belonging.
Schools should focus on fostering understanding and supporting students’ cultural identities. Policies addressing racism must be driven by the needs of those most affected—not by the discomfort of those in power. They should not impose blanket prohibitions that fail to account for nuance.
By prioritising education over censorship, schools can create spaces where Afro-diasporic youth feel seen, heard, and respected—not just disciplined into silence.
More about our researchers and our research
These researchers are at the University of South Australia. This research is supported by the Australian Government through the Australian Research Council (project DE230100249). The views expressed herein are those of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Australian Government or Australian Research Council.
Our researchers are: Melanie Baak, Mwangaza Milunga, Benjamin Grant-Skiba, Yahya Djomani Ousmane, Zamda Omba, Habibat Ogunbanwo, Shaza Hamed, Elaine Ncube, Efon Luwala, Jeanne Munyonge. They are pictured in our page header. How long did it take? Over two years.
Here’s more on the research team. It’s a collaboration between a white settler of Anglo-European heritage and nine youth co-researchers with varying connections to the African diaspora. They have engaged in over 150 hours of conversations with African diaspora young people across Australia.
Through peer interviews, Zoom discussions, and in-person workshops, we explored questions of belonging and identity. We also explored the challenges Afro-diasporic youth navigate in school settings.
In 2024, we extended this work by collaborating with 13 teachers across three secondary schools in year-long action research projects aimed at enhancing belonging for African diaspora students in their schools.
