On being…

A straight, white, able-bodied, middle aged female…

Not as easy as you minorities might think!

Driving to work this morning, I happened to see a car with one of those little rainbow bumper stickers. The eldest had one of those too.

And I was wondering. Where’s my bumper sticker? What colours do I get for living a life as best I can? For raising two kids, mostly alone? For forging through the dating quagmires, and dealing with all the minorities? (Well, not all of them is minorities. Here in the suck heap I call a country, I’m in the colour minority, and I’m never allowed to forget it.)Β For living, or trying to live, a decent life where I pay my taxes, and get service in return? Do I get any colours for that?

So, there I am.

I’ve worked a lot. I know a lot. I’ve lived a lot. I’ve experienced a lot. But I can’t cry discrimination because I’m not gay. I’m not disabled. I’m just old, and that’s no reason to cry about – according to the young folk that is. I can’t even cry discrimination because discrimination against whites is the done thing here in the suck heap.

These days you’re more likely to land a cushy job if you’re a 15 year old, black, lesbian disabled person. And I ain’t neither of those things! To use the vernacular…

Please don’t get me wrong.

If you’re gay, cool. My son is gay. What you do at night behind closed doors should not affect your ability to work. If you’re disabled, I’m sorry. You did not ask for it to happen and you should also be allowed to work to the best of your ability. If you’re black, well then, in SA you might seem to have won the jackpot because everybody wants you rather than me. Not that it’s all that simple either. Not that jobs are scarce, it’s just that there’s a surplus of people applying for the jobs. And that’s where the problem starts.

Because I need to work. I have responsibilities that has to be met. If I don’t meet them, I’ll end up in the street. And why should I end up on the street? I’ve worked and paid taxes in the suck heap for the past going on 30 years. I should be allowed to earn my living and be able to hold my head high one day when I’m old and can rest at last.

Young things though, not so much. At least not all of them. Some young black kids I know already have families to look after because their parents can’t. But to negate everything a person is just to fill your quota or to keep your BBBEE ratings high enough is kind of sucky. For the person being negated in any case.

Therefore, I’m working on my colours. The kid asks me what I need the colours for? If you have aids you have a colour. Cancer. Cholestrol. Anything and everything under the sun has a colour.

But not the white, non-sickly, able bodied, heterosexual woman. Or man for that matter, but since I’m not a man the guys will have to fend for themselves.

I deserve a colour because I’ve pushed two babies into the world. I deserve a colour because, when you go for your cancer treatment, or ARV’s or what ever, I’m the one that religiously occupies my desk. Because I’m NOT sick. I’m NOT fiddly. I get up and go to work, come rain or come shine. And even if only for that, I DESERVE my own colour. Actually, a myriad of colours.

I will commence work on my very own emblem. If you’re in the same boat as I am, feel free to use it as your own. Since all the minorities have councils and committees and what not, I’m jumping on that particular band wagon, even if I’m only a council of one.

I deserve to live the best life I can, not because I’m entitled to it, but because I’ve worked for it. I’ve fought for it, I’ve paid for it in blood, money, sweat and tears.

Watch this space for the emblem that I propose to stick on everything – because I deserve some recognition too!!



26 comments on “On being…

  1. The big praw-blem is that for every pale person employed, two or three more are no longer needed. Right, ultimately that means the profits go up and the company is more successful and it grows and needs to employ more people – but they don’t want to wait for that to happen.

    • I can only hope that I will be given a chance to work Col.
      If they don’t want to employ me, I will be forced to sell my house and go love in the boendoes somewhere, away from the ratrace…

    • I have all the ideas, but not all the abilities πŸ˜‰
      I’ll be roping in the young lot to help me – but I think it’s a worthwhile endeavour πŸ™‚

  2. Here in the States, we call it the “Silent Majority.” Those that go to work, pay their bills, do their jobs, live their lives and support all the wannabees. On Rush Limbaugh’s talk show today, he spoke of the 1990s when every cause had a ribbon and how he came up with one for the National Debt, which is now standing at almost $17 Trillion dollars… It was a dollar bill that came with folding instructions – your dollar bill, plus or only folding instructions so that it could look just like a ribbon…. Good luck with the design, Ghia. I love the idea!

    • The “Silent majority” I like that. it’s a very apt description. the people that tolerate bad service, but never go back, the ones that never complains to the newspapers, only handle the situation as best they can, do their jobs, raise their kids and die quietly without fanfare…
      I’m thinking some help with the emblem will be in order πŸ˜‰

    • “I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”

      – Mandela speaking during his 1964 trial

      • With all due respect to the old man, that is a pipe dream. People, by their very nature. can’t seem to be harmonious in anything, and in SA, that particular ship is not quite sailing, no matter what the pilotico’s has to say.
        The best I can hope for would be a job, or, failing that, a little piece of land where I’ll be also allowed to feel the sun on my face. That is all I really want. To share the sun that shines so abundantly on all of us.

  3. I was so outraged yesterday when I read that our esteemed president had said in Danville that he’d believed that poor whites were doing well.The whole exercise was a voting propaganda stunt. As long as he and his hangers on are doing really well, that’s all that matters to him. I hope you find a well paying job soon. It must be such a worry. Hugs

    • I have to wonder. What on earth is stupid doing in Danville? Why bother with the whities in any case? They hate us all, they want to see us gone, so why include us in any of their campaigns? Then again, if enough stupid people see his so-called hand of peace, he might just win the election. Yet again, screwing the country up even more.

  4. Well said. This discrimination must stop and we need to stop “making the wrongs of the past right”, everyone deserves a fair chance.
    Can’t wait to see what you come up with

    • It’s not only about the discrimination chickpea. The people that are always being castigated for being “normal” as if it’s a sin to just be a person without a bunch of fiddles – that’s what I’m getting gatvol for.
      fact is, everybody and their child can’t be a drama queen – somebody has to keep the pot boiling!
      As for the emblem, working on it πŸ˜‰

  5. Discrimination, just because of a difference in skin pigment is so ludicrous if you think about it. In a science fiction novel I once read (can’t remember which one) everybody in the world ended up with coffee-coloured skin, as all the nations had ended up intermarrying without prejudice.

    • I thought about that the other day Sarah. Cafe-au-lait is becoming more visible than lily white or pitch black. One of these days everybody will be the same colour.
      Then again, I’m sure they will find something to discriminate about. Think it’s the Human Condition.

  6. Looking forward to the colours, Ghia. Blood, sweat and tears maybe? πŸ™‚ And isn’t so-called Women’s Day coming up soon? I don’t celebrate it, because in this country ordinary working women have the hardest time of all, mostly raising children on their own too, and Women’s Day just makes a joke of the other 364 days during which violence against women (and children) continues unabated.

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