Rhodes Changed Something

The Rhodes Must Fall Movement captured something in UCT’s community that I have never seen before. For the first time in a long time people were saying what they actually felt, unabated. I’m part of the generation that uses social media almost as much as we use oxygen, it’s no surprise that a lot of what transpired took place online. I’d scroll down my Facebook News Feed and read testimonies of black pain caused by my tertiary institution. I’d read about how some of my white friends were struggling with their privilege and trying to understand it and then derail it. I also read some of the worst racism I have ever seen in my entire life, examples of which have been sprawled across the comment sections of some of my own articles.

Rhodes catalyzed more conscientizing than the youth has engaged in for a long time. Personally, I have never considered my own positionality as strongly as I have over the last few months. I thought about the deeper and more obscure repercussions of having a white skin in South African society - nuanced ways in which I am unintentionally complicit, but complicit nonetheless. This does not mean I feel guilty or that I am self-hating, it means that I am ashamed of the legacy of whiteness and the way it monopolizes power in societies today – I think all white people should be against this.

The Rhodes statue changed something. It gave students something tangible to unite against. Yes, there was resistance, but this wasn’t well justified beyond barbaric racial slurs and hate. The statue represented notions of transformation that South African youth are so very ready for. But, unfortunately, the statue also simplified the struggle. Once the statue had fallen the number of people at protests went from thousands to sometimes less than one hundred. For me, this dishearteningly showed that we find it easier to assemble against something than for something. This is upsetting.

The other day at work I was reading paragraphs some youth had written on what freedom means to them. An overwhelming number of them spoke about how they’re told they have freedom, but they don’t know what that means.

We’re the bornfrees but free from what? Freedom for who?

We’re a generation in desperate need of reimagining. I don’t know what a non-racial, non-sexist society that benefits the poor, and marginalized minorities looks like. What is it like to live in such a society? What is it like to not be an oppressor or oppressed? Is it possible for intersectionality to become irrelevant because equalitarianism is actually possible?

I don’t know what this world looks like.

But it's what I want to fight for, rally for and assemble for.

If we want that ideal we need to seriously consider feminism and black consciousness and class/ability/education/location struggles. We need to acknowledge current oppressions and strategically reimagine the society we want and construct a plan for how to get there.

I don’t want to spend my whole life fighting against something, it's time to reimagine.

Rhodes changed something. It got us thinking, criticizing and reflecting. I know what I don’t want, but it’s time to build what I do.