Black Lives DO Matter

I am a child of apartheid

I’ve been born privileged but oblivious. In apartheid South Africa in the early 1980’s was when I first became aware of race. My preschool teacher asked us for which political party our family voted and we had to indicate by raising our hands. Sneeringly I was told my parents voted for a black president. I felt ashamed and confused.

When South Africa’s first democratic election of 1994 happened I was too young to vote. There was mounted fear all around me and the strange name, ‘Mandela’ was on everyone’s lips. At the time I had no idea how I will learn to admire the incredible man behind that name and the principles he represents. But back then I kept hearing about riots, bombs and schools being burned down but little information on why. It would be years before I would really come to terms with the institutionalized racial segregation that were my ‘normal’. And of the apartheid government’s tight control on the media.

Craving for more I left South Africa in 2000. No matter on which continent I was, I learned that I will be associated with (or even directly asked if I am) a racist purely based on my country of origin. I lived under a shadow of shame for the political decisions the leaders of my home land made. Decisions I had no influence over but yes, I most certainly benefited from. I learned to be ashamed of the privilege I was born into. But I will continue to love South Africa, my motherland in all her beauty and diversity.  

Years later the British School in Delhi (India) had an International day. There were only a few families from African countries so it was agreed that we all make a stall together. My excitement was short lived. During the first meeting the women made a circle, shoulder to shoulder and I was pushed out. As was all my ideas. It was made clear with no uncertain terms; even though my family has been South African for generations, I simply wasn’t African enough. What was I? Lost.

Although I lost my identity, I started gaining insight into inequality. Even though I was born privileged and painfully aware of it, being a woman in India regardless of my privileged colour, made me a second class citizen. I have never experienced gender inequality. Trying to enter a building or standing in line men would physically shove me out of the way. People we hired would flatly disregard me but jump the minute my husband steps in.

While living in India my insight into equality grew as I became friends with an extraordinary Ugandan woman. While I grieved for my lost identity and I tasted a mere drop of gender inequality, my friend Mariam experienced a tsunami of injustice, first as a black woman living in the US and now as a Muslim woman living on her own in a patriarchal Hindu society. But Mariam is a gutsy girl who stand her ground solidly while projecting boundless amounts of love to all. Mariam showed me how one could be patient with people’s ignorance while continuing to love without prejudice. I still have so much to learn.

Moving forward

To move forward on racial equality we need more than a black square on Instagram. We need to pay attention to the businesses and the politicians we support. We need to recognize the faults we and the generations before us have made. We need forgiveness. We need continued dialogue with each other and with our children. These have not been easy conversations for me but I believe it is crucial that we recognize our history and our failures so that they are never repeated. I want my children to know our past while remaining positive about a more equal tomorrow.    

”People made racial disparities and people can unmake them” - Dr. Candis Watts Smit