It was only a few days ago that we celebrated 20 years since Nelson Mandela was released from prison, and therefore began our long walk to a "non-racial" South Africa.
20 years is quite a long time, someone born 20 years ago could today be working, finishing varsity hell in this day and age he/she could even be a parent.
So you can see after 20 years of living in a "Non-racial" society I had no qualms about having another mom ( who just happens to be white) pay me a visit today.
However from the minute she arrived the racial disparity became very clear. She arrived at 10am! 10am! Mind you that's when she said she'd arrive but, I did not expect her to. "Its a Black thing" although she said 10am I was expecting her to arrive around 11:30am or even 12pm.
As I was getting over the rude awakening she walked in the door and the first thing out of her mouth is; " I am just too liberal for the Free State too liberal". I took the bait and asked her what had her so worked up, she went on to tell me how her neighbour a "regte Boere" was annoyed this morning because as she quoted her neighbour " die rasintjies will nie uit die pad loop nie" (I think I just wrote the raisins will not stop walking in the road). When she asked her neighbour who or what are the raisins her neighbour answered "the little Kaffir kids". I, not wanting to get into this conversation so early in the morning tried to brush it off calling it ignorance but no my visitor was not having it.
Like all (okay most) White people who I've come into contact with, she had to prove just how much she loved Black people. She started with " The Monologue" I've heard it so many times I can recite it myself.
"I have never had a problem with Black people, my father speaks fluent Zulu". Then the peis de resistance "my children just love our maid (I prefer helper) Francinah she's been with us for ages and Absolom our gardener he is just the best" I let them use our toilet" (how nice now I know should I visit won't have to hold my wee till I get home).
This Monologue as intriguing as it always is, makes me wonder, I understand a large number of Black people are Domestic workers and gardeners but why must white people always compare us to their domestic workers? Your in my house drinking my Nescafe, eating my Woolies muffins yet you see the woman that scrubs your toilet? Why must they also always try to show they are not racist, no not like their neighbour, co-worker etc? Why can't relationships, friendships be built without first having to recite the guilt ridden, pseudo- apology?
Its been 20 years since we started this journey, so when I ask do we reach the destination?
I love this! and honestly, it rings too close to home. would love to sit down with you for hours entangled in good conversation because i like the way think which is evident in you writing, but not at 10am ;)!
ReplyDeleteI reckon it's more about her trying to convince herself that she's not racist. There's something I read or watched (on Oprah most likely) where they speak of white people going on about how they don't "see colour"... Which is of course the biggest croc because the fact that you recognize the person you're speaking to (or usually within earshot of) is one who should be informed of this means you see their colour!
ReplyDeleteIt's general propaganda that has even me, a black female, a little bit uneasy around a certain "type" of black guy. Terrible of course, but one constantly has to remind oneself of the brainwash, and sometimes chant a mantra to realign your habits with your now enlightened mind. Like a typical "privileged" black person, one thinks of the childhood visits to your grandmother's house in Soweto, the family you still have there, and the realization that black is a colour, and kaffir/nigger/tsotsi etc is not your complexion.
I do wish though, that white people who really do feel all that your "white mom" does should make it mean something... I don't think that they understand that because we're of a time where the scars of the past are still very visible, just because we go to the same tea party doesn't mean our conversations have to be of the same empty self-adulating content.
But I think that's a standard that you'd have to set yourself because it is the culture of it (tea party mom meetings)...
Get her a copy of The Only Black At The Dinner Party by Eric Myeni...