I AM HER; SHE IS ME

My professional life is marred by the ordinary.

 I contemplate this whilst I am planning my exit out of formal employment…forever…. for freedom.

 Admittedly, I am not someone with an aversion to "success" or money, so how is it that I lacked ambition and throughout my career shied away from any situation in which a win for me would mean a setback for someone else.

It doesn’t sit well with me. So, I keep digging trying to find answers to questions that weigh heavily on me.

Is it because of where and when I was born that I have this struggle? Did I have to work twice, or thrice as hard to even reach the starting line at the beginning of my career. So much so that 25 years on, I still don’t know how to stop performing?

Perhaps it is that being a Muslim woman of colour comes with a weight afforded to me by prejudices not of my making, or in my control?

 It’s hard to break free from cultural and societal expectations, norms and biases, especially growing up in a repressive society where racism and patriarchy reigned and western values prescribe who is more valuable, and who is less so.

Growing up we were never taught about money or finances. Living in an Apartheid Society (where you were considered a second-class citizen and discrimination was institutionalized to keep you segregated and, in your place), surviving was much more the norm than thriving. We were taught to value the simple things out of necessity because in retrospect these were the components of a hard life: Living paycheck to paycheck, surviving on little to no money, fixing what was broken, hand-me-downs and recycled clothing, leftovers on a Monday because Sundays were the one day we had a “feast” … that is what we knew very well how to do. Being able to survive whilst maintaining your dignity, belief, traditions and faith, there was almost pride in that. We were skilled at making things work, finding ways to overcome obstacles during difficult times. And we were taught the value of education and hard work. Working smart and having an excess of wealth, well that seemed like something “other people” that looked very different from us, did.

How even?

After a lifetime of fighting, of forging ahead to set new paths for those coming up behind me, of working hard to ensure that every family member is taken care of, so that we all have a fighting chance in a world that demands so much and gives so little to us cogs in its machine, how even am I still perplexed by how this all works?

Where has it gotten me?

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for this life carved by blood and sweat and tears. And I willingly sacrificed living in my beloved home country, forever an expat missing home soil more with each passing day, wondering why there is such a deep emptiness inside. Counting days to be home again in South Africa, to feel her firm ground beneath my feet, to breathe in air tinged with a saltiness that comes from the sea if the wind blows just right…And to dodge cars on busy highways and scoff at offended drivers flipping me off.

Oh, how I yearn to hear the tongue of my people, their loudness and their words of love… And I quieten that voice inside me that whispers that I am stranger in these foreign lands and feel stranger still when I return to my homeland for it has grown and moved without me. I am like a ghost: here but longing to be there. Forever wondering when I will be with them, my tribe where I feel full and whole.

 Still...

Always in circles.

Round & round.

Forward, then back to square 1.

Everywhere, but up.

Lateral moves and Plan B’s.

Hmmm…

Maybe I am too much of a dreamer?

Maybe it’s because I’m the youngest one, the other sibling?

It could be because I’m fickle.

Or easily bored?

Or difficult?

Or deeper?

Too demanding? Not demanding enough?

Too nice? Not ruthless in the least.

 Yikes, maybe I think too much?

Maybe I should think some more!

I could go back and make like Freud and delve into my childhood or interpret my ever-recurring mountain dream.

I jest.
Perhaps.

I could look back on my life and see where the random negative patterns of behavior were set and positively reinforced. Maybe it was growing up in the 80's in Apartheid South Africa, born on the wrong side of history, on the flipside of white privilege?

When second class becomes second nature, you realise how insidious and destructive Apartheid policies really are.

Having started out my working life on a sound academic foundation from a higher institution, you’d expect I’d stay and show growth and development within my chosen field.
I did not.
Rather I embarked on a career path that spanned sectors and continents:
I became Teacher...Counsellor.... HOD...PA to MD…Marketing Coordinator…Administration Manager...back to Teacher...

Jack of all trades!
Never on a straight path!

Taking four walls.

Using 5 workdays.

Seeing endless opportunities…

What have I accomplished?

I'm not entirely convinced that it matters.
Who have I impacted?
Now that, that does matter.

Who am I?

“I am the ordinary: I am parent, sibling, friend, teacher, mentor… And I am passionate about my tribe.”

 Maybe accepting that we are all the same, that we are all ordinary in an extraordinary world, maybe this is a good place to start building a world where humanity is prized and we work together for the betterment of all our brothers and sisters.

Let’s! 

I know we can!

I am her; she is me.

'I am what I am because of who we all are'. (Ubuntu)

FREE PALESTINE, END THE OCCUPATION!