Story 1
Hi, my name is Sanele Ngema and I'm entitled. Not the first time I hear this. In high school I was on a rugby scholarship so every now and then a coach (or non-coach) would find it necessary to remind me that I'm super lucky to be getting a free ride in such a great school. I really did feel lucky. Still do.
The one time during meal time in the dining hall I was called up by a coach/non-coach (again, identity is not terribly important right now) to the master's table which was on a slightly raised stage-like platform at the one end of the dining hall. I was then told to get onto my knees, so I did. Then a few things were said to me, but the crux of the message was that I am like every other black person in South Africa. I want everything to be handed to me. I don't want to work for anything and think I deserve to just receive. That's not how the world works. I'm not interpreting what was said, this is what I was told, while on my knees. And that I must change and stop being like the rest of the black people in South Africa.
One of the most confusing and frustrating moments in my life. The chat mainly related to rugby but it was also a reflection on my life in general. My Main problem was the following...Rugby: I had had the best rugby fitness test results in the whole school since I was in grade 9. I had one of the highest gym attendances. Academics: I was a consistent top tenner. Sports in general:
I did everything there was to do in the school. But for some odd reason someone felt it necessary to call out the underprivileged learner to call out his sense of entitlement. I could write more. But my point is to raise that, for some reason, people are very quick to point out how entitled the underprivileged are. Almost as to say "how dare they demand equal treatment? How dare they operate under the illusion that they are entitled to want the same?"
Maybe someone can shed some insight. Please. I think I sometimes need to stop downplaying things. I really was a brilliant and crazy hard working learner when that incident happened. I can even say with confidence (and the nice thing is there's plenty of ex high school mates present on Facebook to call bullshit) I was the hardest working rugby player off the field. What is my plan here? Where am I going with this? In merely seeking to speak to privilege. And attempt to explain its mechanics using real life examples.
In grade 8 in high school. A teacher and hostel master was addressing a group of us. So I raised my hand and I said "Sir, I think you are racist," Of course, Sir took offense and ordered that I take that back. I refused. He ordered again that I take that back or else he will call his lawyers. (The beauty of privilege. The system is designed that the privileged will have the loudest voice. But he was never ready). So I said, "Its fine, Sir. Call your lawyers and I’ll call Zola 7" (Little did he know that, out of nowhere, the smaller man also had a voice. And there's a weird thing that happens when power/privilege is threatened with transparency. When something threatens to bring its operating under the spot light). Power/privilege, like most other abnormal things, works best in secret, away from public scrutiny. While privilege controls what gets out to the public. Whether through newsletters, the news, textbooks/history books etc.
And that was the end of that conversation. It's scary what can happen when the smaller man all of a sudden has a voice. I ended up leaving that high school, despite being on a rugby scholarship at one of the top boy’s schools in the country, at the end of that year. Despite all the promise and opportunity that came with attending there I was just gatvol of remaining in a place where I felt that I was under attack because of the colour of my skin. And of course the comments will come and point out that it was tough for everyone and that it’s in my head that I was targeted because I was black.
The prefects punished everyone who messed up. Let's look at this. This is a story about one of the most loved and respects prefects when I was in grade 8. He was termed as one of the more reasonable and caring ones. And he was. If I had a problem he would have been one of the prefects I felt I could approach. Anyways, we had been playing rugby at Glenwood. But the first team game was at home. So we had to take the bus back to watch the first team. I lost/misplaced my blazer in Glenwood. I got back and joined my school in cheering for the first team. I was blazer less so I stood out. It wasn't a great image because the uniformity is one of the best parts of our schools. So the prefect who was also "war cry leader" called me up and asked me in a very calm fashion where my blazer was. I told him it had gone missing. He remained very calm and called a fellow grade 8 and team mate. The war cry leaders got to wear special white Blazers during the first team games. So his normal school blazer was there on the floor next to him. So he called the white fellow grade 8 and team mate of mine and told him to give me his blazer. The prefect then gave my white fellow grade 8 and team mate his school blazer to wear. You tell me if that same prefect looks at me and my white fellow grade 8 and team mate the same when it's time to dish out punishment and insults. You tell me if he really treats us the same. When I'm not worthy to touch his blazer. (Skyn, how do you know him not wanting you to wear his blazer has anything to do with colour?) Good question. I don't know...
Point is, as the underprivileged we have so many things working against us. (I must confess, after having graduated from the high school and from wits, I have escaped being underprivileged. That school and Wits did me good. I now have the accent and the mannerisms, and the right everything). And the privileged have so many visible and non-visible forces working in their favour. They should really relax and accept that sometimes, their voice simply won't be the loudest one in the room. And that's ok.
Oh, you may be wondering if I left at the end of grade 8, then how did I graduate from the school. I went back in the middle of grade 9. As racist as I may have felt the place was, I realized that it still offered a brighter future as compared to being back home. And I'm glad I went back. This is not about the school. It's about privilege and the plight of the smaller man. The school was/is a great school and I love it and I'm proud to have gone there. But this attitude that the non-privileged must deal with their lot in life like the rest of us is just really making me sick. You really don't know what you are talking about. You don't. I can keep posting story after story just from my own personal experience. You really don't know what you're talking about. How can you think it's ok that for a certain group (the majority of the country) it is perfectly ok for their whole life to comprise of fighting against system after system after system?