Twice as Good

“The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman.” – Malcolm X (1962)

…I would replace “America” with “the world” to be quite honest…

So, a few weeks ago, while South Africans were high on a World Cup rugby win, social media, Twitter in particular made a rather wicked turn. No, I’m not referring to the negative comments made by a certain red-beret-wearing “Honourable” B - never mind. I’m referring to how one minute Tweeps were coming out in Rachel Kolisi’s defence, pleading girls to stay away from our very married captain and the next minute black women were being attacked. We were being called all sort of names which I won’t even go into here. But have you come across a black woman? Do you have any idea how amazing black woman are?

I recently had brunch with a somewhat mentor figure in my life (she doesn’t really know it but here we are) and we ended up talking about what it means to be a black woman in corporate South Africa. One thing she said to me, which I now occasionally use in my pep-talk-to-self was (I’m going to use quotation marks even though these were not her exact words but you know, dramatic effect), “Do you know how amazing you must be as a black woman to sit at the same table as a white male, who had all the opportunities and privilege that you were deprived of growing up? You had no cushioning, no social capital, but yet here you are, in spite of it all. Do you have any idea?” This conversation took me back to a couple of years ago. I was in my final year and interviewing for graduate programmes at various institutions. One such was a bulge bracket bank I was dying to work for, having watched The Pursuit of Happyness and decided I wanted to be a stockbroker or a trader. I managed to make it to the final round but ultimately lost to another candidate. The dreaded call came from the head of H.R. who was super nice and almost apologetic about it. I asked her, with my heart now in my shoes, why they picked the other candidate over me. She told me that although I got positive reviews, the other candidate seemed to be a better fit. He’d started trading stocks since he was 13! Thirteen? I didn’t even know what stocks were at 13! I realized then the amount of catching up I had to do but didn’t really consider that even with my shortcomings I had managed to make it to the final round of this much sought after graduate programme.

Still on the topic of catching up, I once witnessed a rather heated argument at work a couple of years ago between a middle aged white woman and a black woman. I’m not sure what triggered the said argument but what I do recall was the black lady saying “Well, by the time I was 13 I was already expected to cook for the family and clean the house because my mother was busy cooking and cleaning for families like yours so you could do your homework in peace!” This is another thing that sets us back as black women. While I personally wasn’t expected to clean at home during the week, I was expected to cook for the entire family from as early as Grade 5. So, after school ended, I would tend to my extra mural activities (I did everything from hockey, to drama to modern dancing and even attempted netball and athletics) then I would take a 2km lonesome walk to the taxi rank because my parents didn’t have a car and the school bus only did one after school pick up. Then I would get off about 800m from home, get home and yup, cook! While the gravy or whatever would simmer on the stove, I would do my homework, either on my bed, the couch or the coffee table because we had no desks nor a dining table at home. And guess what, my parents never even checked my homework but they were always diligent in signing when I asked them to so Miss Woods would know that they “checked”. When my parents were working late, I would ask my brother who is four years older than me, to sign then I would lie to the teacher because I now had to explain why I had a random signature all of a sudden. It was either I lied or get in trouble for my homework book not being signed so please don’t judge me. All I really wanted to say was “Look, Miss Woods, I do my homework every day but my parents don’t ever check it cause they wouldn’t really know how to correct me anyway cause they are sacrificing all they have so I can get a better education than they got so them signing off means absolutely nothing, thank you very much!” This is just one of many examples of situations that get overlooked but actually maintain the inequality gaps between race and gender.

Another topic that my black girlfriends and I often discuss/ vent about is this responsibility placed on the backs and shoulders of black women to be shining stars. As if we are not hard enough on ourselves, we have this duty to exceed expectations and be top performers not for ourselves, but for those who follow behind us as we rise up. We need to instill confidence in our gender and race so that when a young black girl is hired, nobody is going to credit Black Economic Empowerment for them being there. Everyone needs to automatically think she’s capable because there are examples of people who look like her that have already proven that. When she is introduced as the CEO of a blue chip, people shouldn’t be shocked but firmly agree that she was the right person for the job.

So, when I say it’s tough being a black woman, it’s not that I’m asking for sympathy, its merely just an exasperated sigh before I pick myself up and face this world, a world that is not built for us to succeed. But you know what, whatever you decide to throw at us, just consider it handled!