The idea of taking black kids to white schools has very little to do with education and learning, writes Madala Thepa.
Johannesburg - The idea of taking black kids to white schools is in its form the idea of black women. It has very little to do with education or learning, and a whole lot more to do with members of the mammal class showing off the sweet science of black middle-class accomplishments; a porn flick on public-screening.
The black middle class gets a turn-on from being watched scraping a living at it.
The black man is ever the common dude hiding in the cracks of his rational thoughts, the deterred household dissident, who must believe that “proper” education has an address that a black woman has found after lunching with her friends at a vegan cafe in the trendy Joburg north suburb of Greenside.
The black man is the vital oil in the ego machine of his woman - the precious lunatic who competes with her friends.
If he’s not compliant, there is a maintenance court to answer to.
Though she does not believe in its institutional order and acknowledges its socio-political governing mandate, her pride won’t let her put her kids through the poverty of public schools.
His hard-earned, middle-class coins are put to better use to mis-educate the kids - to hand over the little ones to be padded in the boxing ring of white culture.
And because the black man wants to be lauded as a feminist in the female circles, he changes his deadbeat fatherhood ways.
The black women gush over him on social media and condemn the incoercible “brutes” that resists the charms of white culture.
She, the military strategist of the black family, and he, the non-believer turned believer, the blesser of woman’s vanity projects, switches the intellect off and his adult certainty because kids must be moulded in a white character.
Though she has an innate dislike of Western civilisation and rabbits on about the active evil structures of white power, patriarchy, she dreams of patterned English schools.
She is drawn to the Montrose culture. She is online drooling over the Wasp (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) establishment and wishes that Eton and Harrow were not geographical impediments.
She loves the columned porch of private schools more than the curriculum - the affluent and the prestigious English accents more than the historical background, the tradition and culture of the school.
The affluent school establishes the divinity of her status in society and orders her self- esteem.
She is at the centre of mythologising white education and white heritage.
At the same time she has a beef with the whiteness of it all.
In the case of the Pretoria High School for Girls, she was the first to ring the racial bells.
She was at the forefront making a noise about African culture being eroded -outraged and scandalised by hair policy that she took to social media to lecture about black hair and the philosophy behind coiffures.
She has Gauteng Education MEC Panyaza Lesufi’s ear. She has made him the “Sis Dolly” of social media on matters of racial tensions in the schools.
She has made sure that some schools and creches get unjustified bad press because her ego was damaged when her little cranky child was not invited to join the group of kids having lunch outside, for having a bad attitude.
She never demands that Shakespeare’s Macbeth and Dambudzo Marechera’s The House of Hunger be read side-by-side as literary classics.
She hears the little ones recite the text of Macbeth and she is stupefied with pleasure because that’s what she is inside despite her great education in anthropology and sociology - vain and excitable. She loves the sound of things.
Her kids scoff at the white education when they come of age because they realise the damage that mom has put them through.
At school they always have to motivate for their existence - fight for their place.
They always have to fend off the bullies in the playground and the bully in class who feeds them Christian values.
In adulthood, they relate the traumas of childhood because mom, through their feminist dad, has put them in a 21st century language - and hair-policy concentration camp.
Who is this black woman? She has a more tortured logic than a racist. The black man is confounded by her. She was born in the township, went to township schools and former Model C schools.
When she became an executive in the white corporate establishment, she acquired “executive” tastes. She had some artificial inseminations of white culture inserted into her.
Her first salary was spent on the radical transformation of disparaging anything black.
Suddenly she was into a candida diet and followed a gluten-free fad. She was celiac and self-diagnosed.
Wheat impinged on her personality. She is not sure if she carries the gut flora necessary to digest grass but she gobbles it anyway.
She goes to white Christian churches because they speak in refined tongues and because the church has become like a mall - they sell her self-help books, usher her to a coffee shop to live her middle-class consumerism tastes.
She is in debt because of the lifestyle she leads.
She is the first to bolt for the door because her man who must perform duties of maleness is no longer working and no longer pours cash in her consumerist pot.
She transfers her affections to another man, believing that the next man will solve her financial problems.
She is a gym fanatic because she loves the authority of institutions - the military industrial complex of white culture - the presence of someone watching over her, some security and authority in her life. CCTV cameras feature in her apartment, the malls she frequents and at the workplace.
She is the one making excuses for the “intelligent” imbeciles who cannot speak Zulu on their weekend visitations to family.
She acknowledges the literal reality of the situation of black folks. Her maths on the state of blackness is elegant.
She has fervent convictions and yet she follows a creed she does not believe in.
She dispenses with radical pronouncements and has a feminine dagger drawn if you are inclined to dispute her parables.
She foams and rattles as if she has made an unanswerable point.
Lately, she is ablaze because the tenets of white power kick her out using her kids.
She took to the streets in that famous rarefied event in Constitutional Hill - wearing black and barred men from entering, calling it a sacred space as she and her compatriots regaled each other with the crackpot ideologies of feminism, the twisted logic of LGBTIs and other forms of fiction and dogma.
She converted and persuaded the gullible to join the feminist club and within a month it was dissolved because the other feminists couldn’t quite grasp her hypocrisy.
She will never win the racism song contest because she finances it through private schools and white structures.
This woman is the one sitting next to you right now refusing to take your poetic perspective on white culture when you say, “Honey, those culture berries are poisonous and they have been like that since colonialism... and let me tell you why...”
But you know that you can’t win because you are dealing with a well-trained, well-briefed consumer of white culture.
She defends it with money and reasoning. Your thoughts as a man are always poorly timed and unhelpful.
* Madala Thepa is a freelance journalist.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.