In December 2008 I closed the book on my Rhodes experience... FINALLY flown away from my little foster home, my little cocoon - an anthropologist's dream - a microcosm of predominantly middle-class B-grade students with social lives constructed mainly around a couple of pubs, sportsbars and nothing much else. The one thing I know I've definitely taken with me (except the somewhat beautiful parchments with my embossed name and my alleged academic "qualifications") is an inflated, albeit artificial sense of self-worth and no idea where I really want to be (or maybe even "do" in the short-run at least).
I've met wonderful people while at Rhodes - mixed in with all the rotten apples and faux smiles of the others... The wonderful people I've met are those I'll undoubtedly never forget, even if I wanted to! Most of whom have contributed to my sense of self-worth.. The "diversity" at Rhodes is just as artificial. While I cannot deny that there are certain "oil and water" elements amongst the jacaranda tree and tequila stained avenues of my former campus, the majority of us gravitated towards clones of ourselves or at least people we hoped to clone. In a language many of my fellow Rhodents may understand: You either went to Friar's or you didn't (read Equilibrium). Those of us who occasionally crossed the divide were branded anomalies and more often than not "judged" by our mates from the different camps... But what a wealth of knowledge I acquired while walking on that fence!
Over the past 5years (yes, I'm THAT old!) I have learnt more about people than I ever thought possible. I have shed "friends" like the seasonal skin of a snake and have at the same time managed to separate the wheat from the chaff. I can safely say that those people I call my friends today are indeed my friends and are people I will reminisce with about things other than the jacarandas and the tequila.. People I will cherish always and without whom my years at Rhodes would have been empty.
I have grown as a person... from my early Rhodes days when I wasn't quite sure in which group I fell and when in a desperate attempt to "fit the mould" I sold myself terribly short.. Over the years I have come to terms with who I am and have discovered that there is no mould into which I must force myself. That I am unique and that the things that set me apart are the things that define me... some characteristics might be endearing to some, while grating to others... but it's who I am. I might have to thank Rhodes for that.. a seed sown has been nurtured and watered and has blossomed into the person I am today....
That said: When next I am in Grahamstown... you know where to find me!
Showing posts with label identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label identity. Show all posts
19 May 2009
14 April 2008
From whence my fire burns
I have a little something that I will share with you all on xenophobia..
"I'm from Zimbabwe *jeers in the peanut gallery* and I'm very proud of the fact *more jeers*Being Zimbabwean doesn't make me a stereotype of the Southern African country from which I hail. My nationality is but a tip of the vast Ottilia iceberg.
I have grown up aware of my "Zimness", but it was never something that brought (brings?) me shame.Growing up a 3rd culture child, no one defined me as "The Zimbabwean Girl", I was Ottilia. I was the class clown, the wise-cracker, the grunge-addicted child with mild OCD, the sketch artist, the one who always smiled and often burst into tears for no apparent reason... THAT was Ottilia!
Xenophobia was something I didn't even know existed... It wasn't possible to be xenophobic in the environment in which I grew up.. It just wasn't possible when you were surrounded by "foreigners"; when your closest "relative" was your father's Italian peer. Being xenophobic would have meant hating myself... Paradoxically - or not so - to me xenophobia is nothing but an external projection of your own internal nonacceptance of yourself. The xenophobic dogmatically justify their "beliefs" by arguing or supposing that by being "different" linguistically, ethnically or nationally then surely the "other" is not worthy of similar regard to those of your own kind... never mind the artificiality of the borders that separate us...
You're Zimbabwean, you look different, you even smell different (!), you're not one of "us" and so I hate you. You hate me for being Zimbabwean even before you know me... Xenophobia became a reality for me at Rhodes - "The hub of multiculturalism, where 'leaders learn'". Never before had I felt ashamed to be me... being Zimbabwean is what I was, what I am and at Rhodes I found myself not wanting to be me... but fortunately only for a brief moment in my freshman naivete... In lectures when I introduced myself there would be jeers... How could I possibly be Zimbabwean some asked.. You speak so well, they said. You are classy, some intoned. Who knew that Zimbabweans were classless people with a speech defect? Certainly not me!
A then "close" friend once said to me:"You look South African, why not tell people you're from here? Why identify with the Zimbabweans? You're so much better than them!"I was speechless, so much so that I have not been able to utter more than a "hello" to this person I once called my "friend" - after all, I was Zimbabwean and proud of it to boot... how then would he be able to introduce me to his "better" South Africans? Surely he would suffer the ridicule that he associated with Zimbabweans?
I come from a country with the highest recorded literacy rate in Sub-Saharan Africa. A country where you are greeted with a smile wherever you go. A country where every older woman is your "aunty" and older man your "uncle", where your neighbour is your friend... I come from a country where the wealth extends beyond the resources straight to the people and where the sun shines even as it rains. I come from a country rich with culture and heritage. Don't jeer when I say I am from Zimbabwe.
Don't let your fear of my intelligence manifest into hate, allow that fear to make you desire to better yourself as a person not because I am the "other". Don't look at me and wonder where I'm from and hope I won't say Zimbabwe. Look at me and see a human being, see Ottilia. Look at me and wonder what music I might like, what literature I enjoy, what drives me.. Don't look at me and try to (un)stereotype me. I am NOT your stereotype! I am a proud Zimbabwean, with a character as unique as yours.
I am tired of the snide remarks about Zimbabwe and its people. I seek your empathy, your acceptance (even though I really shouldn't). I want to feel that I am surrounded by leaders and not by xenophobic bigots. I am a Pisces... I am allowed to dream...
"I'm from Zimbabwe *jeers in the peanut gallery* and I'm very proud of the fact *more jeers*Being Zimbabwean doesn't make me a stereotype of the Southern African country from which I hail. My nationality is but a tip of the vast Ottilia iceberg.
I have grown up aware of my "Zimness", but it was never something that brought (brings?) me shame.Growing up a 3rd culture child, no one defined me as "The Zimbabwean Girl", I was Ottilia. I was the class clown, the wise-cracker, the grunge-addicted child with mild OCD, the sketch artist, the one who always smiled and often burst into tears for no apparent reason... THAT was Ottilia!
Xenophobia was something I didn't even know existed... It wasn't possible to be xenophobic in the environment in which I grew up.. It just wasn't possible when you were surrounded by "foreigners"; when your closest "relative" was your father's Italian peer. Being xenophobic would have meant hating myself... Paradoxically - or not so - to me xenophobia is nothing but an external projection of your own internal nonacceptance of yourself. The xenophobic dogmatically justify their "beliefs" by arguing or supposing that by being "different" linguistically, ethnically or nationally then surely the "other" is not worthy of similar regard to those of your own kind... never mind the artificiality of the borders that separate us...
You're Zimbabwean, you look different, you even smell different (!), you're not one of "us" and so I hate you. You hate me for being Zimbabwean even before you know me... Xenophobia became a reality for me at Rhodes - "The hub of multiculturalism, where 'leaders learn'". Never before had I felt ashamed to be me... being Zimbabwean is what I was, what I am and at Rhodes I found myself not wanting to be me... but fortunately only for a brief moment in my freshman naivete... In lectures when I introduced myself there would be jeers... How could I possibly be Zimbabwean some asked.. You speak so well, they said. You are classy, some intoned. Who knew that Zimbabweans were classless people with a speech defect? Certainly not me!
A then "close" friend once said to me:"You look South African, why not tell people you're from here? Why identify with the Zimbabweans? You're so much better than them!"I was speechless, so much so that I have not been able to utter more than a "hello" to this person I once called my "friend" - after all, I was Zimbabwean and proud of it to boot... how then would he be able to introduce me to his "better" South Africans? Surely he would suffer the ridicule that he associated with Zimbabweans?
I come from a country with the highest recorded literacy rate in Sub-Saharan Africa. A country where you are greeted with a smile wherever you go. A country where every older woman is your "aunty" and older man your "uncle", where your neighbour is your friend... I come from a country where the wealth extends beyond the resources straight to the people and where the sun shines even as it rains. I come from a country rich with culture and heritage. Don't jeer when I say I am from Zimbabwe.
Don't let your fear of my intelligence manifest into hate, allow that fear to make you desire to better yourself as a person not because I am the "other". Don't look at me and wonder where I'm from and hope I won't say Zimbabwe. Look at me and see a human being, see Ottilia. Look at me and wonder what music I might like, what literature I enjoy, what drives me.. Don't look at me and try to (un)stereotype me. I am NOT your stereotype! I am a proud Zimbabwean, with a character as unique as yours.
I am tired of the snide remarks about Zimbabwe and its people. I seek your empathy, your acceptance (even though I really shouldn't). I want to feel that I am surrounded by leaders and not by xenophobic bigots. I am a Pisces... I am allowed to dream...
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