I suppose I have been brought up in a very political family, so naturally I gravitate towards it. They even laughed and called me politician at school. I grew up in a very weird period in South Africa's history. I was old enough to have been aware of what apartheid was, as well as how it effected my family, and young enough to be the first kid of colour in a white school.
I got the letter saying I was PROVISIONALLY accepted into WGJS IF it became open to non whites in 1991. The first week of school my parents cried every morning not because their little darling was taking a big step without them but out of fear someone would try to hurt me.
My monitor's (prefect) name was Storm, I can never forget this because my father has been guilt tripping me to name one of my future kids after her. Why? Because on day one she took my hand looked my father in the eye and said she would personally look after me and she did.
I was extremely vocal at school while being part of some of the first groups of non white models on SA campaigns. I say group because it was always the same faces you would see in every store broken down by ages non white mom/dad non white teen boy/girl and me part of non white kid and eventually teen. I use to joke and think to myself that there were more coloured models and different kinds why was it always us used as a blanket representation.
Being in the two worlds I was always torn in the 'you sound too white', 'you sound to coloured' purgatory with both sides bullying me about my modeling sigh.
So the fact that I had so many family friends and cousins who were in the same boat made me feel better, however not all my family members my own age were as vocal growing up, so it has always alienated me.
Everyone has always made me feel as though I am intense, maybe I was forcing teachers to make the class rule out the "K" word in our history text books with a pencil before I would read them or refusing to sing die stem in assembly.
To me the silence tasted and felt worse then the usual eye roll I got from my teachers or the here we go again, cant she just be quiet chirps I got from class mates. I remember going to a social at SACS in grade 7 and slow dancing for the first time with a boy I did not know, (set up by a family friend as a prank R.R) only to be told afterwards his father was an NP Minister and just like they knew I would, I burst into tears. Looking back and even as I type this it sounds funny, but my hands are shaking and my heart is racing because deep down to me it's not.
I was telling my Fiancé the other day it feels like school again. That loneliness of feeling like the only one. Alien. Constantly Being asked on social media why am I so angry, they miss the positive quotes. All I want to scream is why the fuck are you not angry, our people are still dying, still in chains. There is a time for holding hands, throwing flowers and shares and a time to realize that nothing really has changed we are still enslaved but in a different way. If we do not ACTIVELY change it together who will. I will rather fix the world for my kids then make this their problem, because it won't stay stable any longer like this. The Universe will always balance itself out.
It truly baffles me how you are not moved to action when you hear a little girl tell her mother "it's ok I'm here" while seeing her mother in handcuffs where ever you are in the world. Or even worse not knowing what I am referring too... Ok maybe being one of the people who can rationalize any part of it is even worse. On another continent, 700 000 civilians died in Iraq I can see my grandparents home on google maps right on my phone how does that even happen. How is there a war? To me its 2016 and all of this is unacceptable.
Now I am here in Africa, but this happens here as well, just in another way. Gangsterism, violent crime and rape is on the rise in the Cape Flats, so many areas this year have been in lock down with gang violence unable to leave the area for work or even safety, Ocean View, Lavender Hill, Hanover Park to name a few. My friend went to buy a little girl a loaf of bread in Lavender Hill, the girl got shot waiting for it outside. These are our stories & it is the same. Too little choices to be able to survive or get out.
Maybe the Police violence is something I can relate too when I was 4 years old I went with my ma and cousins to the coloured beach. I went for a rock climbing walk with my older cousin who was maybe 12, we walked too far. A police officer saw us and told us to swim back my cousin said ok we will walk back how we came and he said no we must swim, I said I cant swim he said he didn't care. I remember being so scared I blacked out. I don't remember getting back into my ma's arms but I remember how angry she was and at 4!!!
We matter. The little waste lands we were dumped in during apartheid where we still are matters. We cannot hide behind selfies and glitter forever. Black lives matter it is time to start seeing the broken people and not drive past like they do not exist.
Step outside the box. Redefine how we see ourselves. Say something. The future history books are being written now, how profound will your chapter be. For those who cannot understand ask. I bare no hate for those wanting to participate (its 4am I think it is the insomnia rhyming)
The more people across race, sexuality and gender lines wanting us ALL to not only be free but EQUAL the greater the possibility of TRUE change. We are not stereotypes!