The initial silence between the two teens might be awkward, but it is nothing compared to the exchange that fills it.
‘Are you getting ‘owt for Christmas?’ says the Christian girl to her Muslim counterpart. Then she asks if the other girl, who is wearing a hijab, celebrates Christmas, and when the answer is a no, she asks: ‘Are you a Sikh?’
It might feel like a sketch from one of those comedy shows that try to address race issues, but this one is for real.
Siobhan, 16, and Farhana, 17, live only three miles from each other in West Yorkshire, but they might as well inhabit different planets.
Home for Siobhan is the almost entirely white village of Chickenley, while Farhana lives in Batley Carr, an area of nearby Dewsbury which until recently was overwhelmingly Asian, though a new wave of Romanian neighbours is affecting that demographic.
Siobhan (right), 16, and Farhana (left), 17, live only three miles from each other in West Yorkshire, but they might as well inhabit different planets
The pair had never met before they agreed to take part in a jaw-dropping documentary for Channel 4, which aims to see if two teens in one of the most segregated pockets of Britain can become friends.
White Kid, Brown Kid is a programme that should make the metropolitan elite weep. If Britain truly is a glorious melting pot of races, traditions and cultures, then the message has not reached West Yorkshire.
These near-neighbours should have much in common: they are both obsessed with make-up and fashion; they are studying the same syllabus; they even attend state schools which back onto the same playing fields.
Yet there remains an invisible wall separating them, and woe betide anyone who attempts to cross it.
One of the most shocking moments in this thought- provoking film comes when Siobhan and her mum, Brigid, ponder how long a Muslim family would last, were they to move into their area. They conclude ‘three or four months’.
‘They would be harassed,’ says Brigid, quite matter-of-factly. From an Irish background, she is well aware of the perils of segregation.
But is it even possible for white girls and Muslim girls to mix socially in this part of the country? Brigid is asked the question directly and seems sceptical, even well into the filming process.
‘It can only go so far,’ says Brigid. ‘There are too many obstacles in the way. She’s not going to sit at the same table as us if we are eating bacon and eggs, is she?’
Home for Siobhan (right) is the almost entirely white village of Chickenley, while Farhana (left) lives in Batley Carr, an area of nearby Dewsbury which until recently was overwhelmingly Asian
The project was the brainchild of Welsh film-maker Luned Tonderai, herself in a mixed- race marriage (her husband is the Good Morning Britain presenter Sean Fletcher), who spent eight months filming the girls.
She admits the experiment proved more difficult than anticipated. Getting families on board was quite a challenge ‘There was an understandable reluctance,’ she says. ‘At first, people assumed I was making a film about terrorism.’
Even when things were underway, the whole thing seemed close to collapse as each family realised the implications of having the other in their midst.
In the programme, we see filming halted — after the girls are finding common ground — when Farhana’s mother becomes concerned about what people in her community will feel about her associating with a non-Muslim.
Her distress is perhaps understandable when you realise how rarely Farhana’s mum — who came to Britain from Pakistan 21 years ago — has mixed with her neighbours. The fact that subtitles are used on screen when she speaks English tells its own story. She apologises that her English is not good.
‘What it brought home to me is that this isn’t about individual families, it’s about whole communities,’ says Luned. ‘People are very concerned about what their neighbours think.’
Their neighbours of the same race, naturally.
This week, Home Secretary Amber Rudd was in Chickenley to observe community projects aimed at bringing white and Asian children together.
The pair had never met before they agreed to take part in a jaw-dropping documentary for Channel 4
A football initiative she heard about at the local community centre is part of the Government’s counter-extremism strategy. That even such a fundamental pastime as children playing in the street together has to be ‘engineered’ like this is depressing, though.
Seeing Siobhan and Farhana together underlines the disconnect between the communities.
For instance, Siobhan says she has never set foot in an Asian home. She and her family have clearly watched their Muslim neighbours from afar, often curious about their lifestyles, but have never interacted with them.
The first meeting between the two girls, in a cafe, is painful. Their lifestyles could scarcely be more contrasting.
Siobhan, for example, likes to think of herself as quite the party animal — ‘I would die without Instagram,’ she says. Luned was careful to pick two girls who ‘were representative of what 16-year-olds in their respective communities were like — we didn’t want the extremes’.
For Farhana’s family, though, Siobhan, with her mass of blonde curly hair and her drinking habits, must seem extreme. Siobhan points out that her (white) culture requires girls of her age to dress in a certain way.
‘There is a pressure to show off your features,’ she says. ‘Your curves, your boobs and your bum.’
When these girls do get together, the meetings are carefully arranged, first in the cafe, then in brief visits to each other’s homes, building up to a shopping trip (significant since Farhana has never been allowed to go shopping on her own).
They then have meals with their entire families in the other girl’s home.
White Kid, Brown Kid is a programme that should make the metropolitan elite weep but if Britain truly is a glorious melting pot of races, traditions and cultures, then the message has not reached West Yorkshire
What is staggering is the level of ignorance about each other’s way of life. How, in 21st-century Britain, can one community have no clue about how the other lives?
To some, Siobhan’s questions to Farhana would seem crass and rather dated. She wants to know whether Farhana’s family eat with a knife and fork, and whether they use loo paper because she has heard that they don’t.
To her credit, Farhana laughs, and the ice is broken.
You can’t put Siobhan’s ignorance down to youth, either. En route to the home of Farhana’s family with her dad, Charlie, the conversation seems to have been lifted from a Sixties sitcom.
There is discussion about whether the food will be too spicy. Food is often a flashpoint in this film. When the Muslim family come round to the home of Siobhan’s family, there is near panic about what to feed them. Brigid frets for days about how they ‘aren’t halal’. She ends up making them quiche.
Luned admits she was shocked about how little each community knew of the other: ‘Particularly in the white community there was a reluctance to ask questions in case it was perceived as being racist.
‘That’s a huge issue, because it just perpetuates the cycle. And this is not an unfriendly place. Actually, I found that all the families — on both sides — were hugely welcoming to me, as a filmmaker. It is Yorkshire; doors open and people offer you food.’
The two fathers are seen meeting for the first time at Farhana’s house in West Yorkshire
Why are the doors so closed to those who shouldn’t be strangers, then? This film doesn’t have all the answers, but it does show that when the door is pushed open, positive things can happen. Siobhan and Farhana gradually build up a rapport — mostly through make-up, interestingly.
Who knew that mascara could be the key to race relations? In Farhana’s bedroom, she takes off her headscarf (off-camera) so Siobhan can see her hair, which is stunning. Siobhan simply can’t understand why a girl of her age would want to cover this up.
When Siobhan dons one of Farhana’s headscarves, she just giggles and bemoans how fat her face looks: ‘I look proper weird.’
It’s a touching scene, though, because for the first time she has put herself in Farhana’s place.
There follows a conversation about arranged marriage. Siobhan still can’t understand why Farhana would be happy with such a thing, but at least they are discussing it.
What becomes blindingly clear is that it is the adults who are keeping these teenagers apart, wittingly or unwittingly.
There’s another telling moment when Farhana’s family allow her to go on a shopping trip with Siobhan, an unheard-of liberty (‘My parents choose my clothes,’ Farhana admits, ‘whatever they like, I like’).
Out in the mall, she spots a friend of her dad’s, but is relieved that he doesn’t seem to have recognised her. Oh, but he has, and is immediately on the phone to her father, asking if he is aware of where she is and who she is with.
The ‘eyes’ of both communities are everywhere, it seems. At the point when the project might be derailed, it is because of perceived judgments from others.
‘What if people start talking about her?’ cries Farhana’s mum, perhaps not unreasonably, since even during the course of this programme Farhana clearly starts to challenge her parents’ authority.
That shopping trip is supposed to be brief. Farhana is actually away from home for four hours, which is worrying for her parents.
Full credit to Farhana’s father, Imran, then, who gets the project back on track and seems to be the driving force behind the success.
He invites Siobhan’s dad around and that seems to help. ‘I think they realised they weren’t poles apart,’ says Luned. ‘They were two fathers who love their daughters and want the best for them.’
The film makes no mention of what is happening in Britain at this time, but Luned admits the recent terror attacks happened during filming, and everyone was well aware of the sensibilities.
Farhana’s dad makes a reference during filming as he insists the show must go on, even if members of his own community oppose such integration. ‘You can’t please everyone,’ he says. ‘But the best way to overcome these issues is to sit down and talk.’
There will be those living in more liberal, more integrated areas who will not recognise the issues in this film. But there will also be viewers who know similarly little about their own neighbours.
Did the experiment work for the families? Luned says yes, up to a point.
‘I think there will always be limits, and it may be they have to be careful about the sort of places they can hang out together and the sort of things the girls can do. But I think the fact they are still in touch is really positive.
‘They are actually both at the same college now, doing the same course.
‘And the wider implications are important, too. Siobhan said to me recently that if she hadn’t done the programme, she would never have had the confidence to go up and start chatting to a Muslim girl. So that to me is a huge breakthrough.’
White Kid, Brown Kid is on Channel 4 on Monday at 10pm.