by Sechaba Molete
I belong to a nation of people who were an integral part of the international Slave trade, a people who were victims of The Holocaust, segregation, Apartheid, genocides, racism and discrimination. A people whose bodies were sold to build the economies of superpowers, a people who have been exploited and a people who are riddled with insecurities that stem from factors beyond their control.
As painful and disturbing as this reality may be, one can’t help but think that a nation with such a negative history would learn from their abusers and be adamant about creating spaces that encourage love and acceptance for each other in a world that has dismally failed to do so for our forefathers. Or is it just me?
Embarking on a tangent about how unaccepting Black people are and how diverse yet similar our experiences can be would be contradictory of me. I can’t express the sentiments of all Black people as I am not “the voice” of all Black people, however I can speak for myself. My revelations were provoked at a dinner table during my orientation week in which a simple dinner conversation turned into a courtroom with the “head of the table” being the judge, his friends the jury and myself the defendant. The case: to prove whether or not I am black enough.
From my multiple experiences of having to prove my blackness I’ve realised that in order to be deemed black by the ‘racial police’ you need to have either grown up in unfavourable conditions, have some sort of abuse inflicted on you by your parents or caretakers, or partaken in various cultural activities. In some cases your black identity will only be confirmed by the ‘racial police’ if you fall into all three of the previously mentioned categories.
I, on the other hand, do not fall into any of the previously mentioned categories much to the disgust of the men at the dinner table. The invalidation of my racial identity began with me being asked if I had ever slaughtered a chicken before, from the topic of chicken they then proceeded to ask about other animals, almost as if they were giving me a chance to redeem myself. As my responses of “no” became more frequent, looks of disapproval began spreading across the dinner table and were topped off with the comment, “Wow! I can just smell your privilege.”
I am able to acknowledge my privilege and I understand how it could be a point of contention in a country where the vast majority of black people live in poverty. Despite that, I left that table feeling very insecure about my racial identity.
I find it very interesting that to non-black people I am black by virtue of my skin colour but to Black people I am black on the basis of my experiences. The idea of retrieving your identity from your experiences is an extremely faulty ideal. If a black child has been adopted by white parents and attends predominately-white schools as well as spends time with predominantly white people the child won’t all of a sudden become white as a result of his or her experiences.
Race and culture are two separate identification categories, and I wish more South African people regardless of race could understand that the racial and cultural categories we fall into do not need to “match” or even make sense socially. My family and I spent a little time living in the UK and my sister was born there. On a basis of citizenship she is British, however on a cultural basis she is Tswana.
There is no distinct experience that makes Black people black. As much as we have a painful shared history, beautiful and multiple similarities, and are in the long process of learning to be proud of who we are - there are some things we need to understand. One of them being that we are a people who are also extremely different. The second being that even though we are a people whose current differences are the result of colonisation and urbanisation, they still need to be respected. The third being that if we can’t accept differences in our own communities, then whose responsibility will it be to accept us? Time will tell if we will eventually become a nation that understands all these factors. However, until then I guess I’ll just have to continue proving my racial identity to my own people.