Whitewashed identity 11 Mar 2013 | Mmatshilo Motsei | 0 Comments "OUR children are not like us, they don't see colour. They only see the human race," a middle class black parent says to her white friends as they sip sundowners, lamenting the corrupt state of the nation.
RAINBOW GENERATION: Two children hold hands. Black children lose out at school when they have to submerge their languages in order to belong, the writer argues. What the black parent does not say is that not seeing race comes with significant self-annihilation and mental suicide on the part of the black child. In a racially divided society, not seeing race often means not seeing the black race. To survive abuse that came as a result of racial discrimination, many black people developed some degree of self-hate and self-invalidation. Unfortunately, the right to vote does not come with an automatic cessation of an inferior mental state. Years after the advent of democracy being white is still a measure of being human. Not so long ago, black people used skin lightening creams to feel they were part of the human race. In the 21st century, the black child is enrolled in a cultural lightening school. To succeed, he is required to abandon his language which serves as a powerful carrier of his culture. The English speaking white child is not faced with such a choice. His view of himself and his world is not split. Playing a lead role as himself is the only role that he auditions for. I recently had a conversation with my son about self-image and self-esteem. In our discussion, I enquired about the impact of language and culture on the development of a positive self-image. Further in our talk, I asked directly: what about race, what impact does it have on your self-esteem? I noticed a glitter in his eyes. Treading carefully, I then asked: Are there instances at school where you felt undermined as a person? The answer was an unequivocal "yes". He cited numerous examples of racist encounters with his mates. For example, in a history class where they learn about slavery, white kids laugh and make racist comments about black slaves. Now the question is what do I do as a parent? How many of us hard-working parents have the time and space to uncover the impact of racism that our children experience daily at school? If we do uncover it, what can we do about it? The truth is that many of us, like our children at school, are also forced to suppress a part of who we are to belong. Just like our children, we are cast in a supporting role that splits us into two. To survive, we had to master our split personalities. In our mastery of the split, some of us made peace with being honorary members of the master race while others opted for the role of life-time freedom fighters. Either way, our choice emanates from a position of victimhood. Even after making these choices, we still experience situations in which we are compelled to defend our existence. We know from the work of writers such as Franz Fanon and Steve Biko that the colonised is elevated above his jungle status in proportion to his adoption of his mother country's cultural standards. Ironically, even though Africa is revered as motherland, she functions as a maid. A maid is under the directive of the master. She has no final say on what to teach the children. It is 2013. We are approaching the second term of a third black president. Yet, we still suffer from a chronic colonial setlamatlama (babalas). Like other hangovers, a colonial hangover requires that we ingest more of the poison that caused the hangover in the first place. The dismal failure of black children in what is still a Eurocentric education system bears testimony to this. The same fate applies to our understanding of democracy and leadership. An African leader is no longer bound by seven cardinal principles of truth, justice, propriety, harmony, balance, reciprocity and order. Instead of re-weaving the broken fibre of society, post-colonial leaders are ruled by greed and they breed a system which militates against servant leadership as espoused by the ancient philosophy of African humanism. >From a place of mental poverty, leaders grab what they can in their limited >term of office. We can, however, not put all the blame on leaders. An African proverb, Kgosi ke kgosi ka morafe focuses on the role of the follower in the equation. Unfortunately, followers tend to find no value in integrity and ethical leadership. Most often, a leader who performs badly is the one who stands a better chance of being re-elected. And so, the cycle of internalised oppression continues. Mmatshilo Motsei is the author of Time is upon us: From political revolution to evolutionary love http://www.sundayworld.co.za/talk/2013/03/11/whitewashed-identity -- -- Sending your posting to [email protected] Unsubscribe by sending an email to [email protected] You can also visit http://groups.google.com/group/payco Visit our website at www.mayihlome.wordpress.com --- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Pan Africanist Youth Congress" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
