Though Apartheid ended 17 years ago, I still find
that there is a deep racial divide in South Africa. Though it is not one that
is institutionalized, it is one that is embedded in the culture, like in the
way that we still see self-segregation a lot in the States. There are many
social structures that still keep people in the position of second-class
citizens, while calling them “equal” at the same time. One of the things that I
find myself struggling with a lot here is this notion of white people as
protectors, guiders, or suppliers for black people. Especially in the Transkei,
a white person is always assumed to be wealthy and educated, and surely, they will
share what they have. And that stereotype exists for a reason. The only white
people that I know that live in Mthatha are all, in some capacity, involved
with/running social programs. They are here because
there is need and they are wealthy and educated enough to organize and do
something about it (or think they can). More than that, many of the people living
here cling to these social programs because they are often the only stability
people (especially children) have. This isn’t a new phenomenon or one that is
restricted to South Africa either. This kind of dependency on charity and aid
is one that seems to me to be widespread in lots of developing countries. More
than just a subsistence dependency, it also carries along with it these
undertones of unworthiness and a mindset that people will never be good enough
because aren’t as rich or as intelligent. Or feelings of shame because they
have to depend on someone else to provide food and clothing for their own
children.These are things that have been growing in my mind
for a while now, but it all kind of came to a head just before my Christmas
break.
There are some of our kids from Itipini that now
live in Bethany home because they’ve been taken away from their homes by social
workers. One of these is a girl named Sisipho, whose mother is one of the more
stable women at Itipini. I’ve seen her several times visiting Sisipho and
volunteering in the baby room at Bethany and, just before our break, it was
decided that Sisipho could come back to Itipini to live with her mom in a kind
of trial period. I saw her when she came back, walking around with her mother
and looking very cheery, and went to say hi. Sisipho instantly put out her arms
for me to pick her up and I obliged. Only, when I tried to hand her back to her
mom, she wouldn’t go. When I tried to put her down, she cried and followed me.
When her mom took her away, she threw an absolute fit. Every single time I saw
her over the next few days, it was the same story. Why? She sees her mom much
more often than she sees me. When her mom goes to Bethany, she loves on her and
plays with her. When I go to Bethany, I hold her down while she gets shots.
This child does not really know me or like me; but I’m white. I am a young white female, just like the volunteers
that work at Bethany home. I am not more kind or more loving than her mother,
but I resemble the only thing she has ever known as constant and doting.
Because of this, she sees me as the one that will protect and care for her even
if her mother is right next to me for no other reason than the color of my skin. And that kills me. Her mother is trying really
hard and doing absolutely all she can to succeed where she may have failed to
begin with and yet, her child is coming to me
who has not done a single thing and has not earned that affection. Every time
it happened, the look on her mother’s face broke my heart. Sisipho isn’t old
enough to understand or even old enough for anyone to explain it to her, but I
am and her mother is. My presence alone in that situation must have made her
feel so inadequate and so rejected when she is giving her best to provide for
her child. What does this situation say about the mindset that is being ingrained into people here before they even know how to talk? Moreover, is my presence here adding to its power?
To what extent do we help those in need and at
what point does our “help” become debilitating to those it is supposed to be
helping?
Thoughts and comments are welcome.
Uxolo,
Karen
