By: Breana Ross
A few weeks before the end of first semester in Miami, my roommate and I had a discussion surrounding Oprah’s movie, “Dark Girls”. The movie highlights the struggles, mistreatment, and rejection which darker skinned black women experience in American society. The movie insinuated that light-skinned black women (or lighter skinned black people in general) were somehow more privileged than darker skinned black people, an idea I’ve heard from my peers for most of my life but never fully bought into. As we discussed the movie, I was hesitant in my acknowledgement of some of the points that were made regarding my own privilege as a light-skinned black person. I felt that, as black people, more specifically as black women, we are all in the same boat as an oppressed group. My roommate tried explaining how darker skinned people, specifically darker skinned women, were treated worse across the world and how the points made in the movie were valid. I just didn’t get it then. I wasn’t aware of my privilege because I had never been without it. But now, here in South Africa, I finally get it.
I’ve divided my community service time between two schools in two different townships: Nyanga, a black township, and Manenberg, a colored township. I would first like to clarify that the term “colored” holds different meaning here in South Africa then it does in America. When I first heard the word “colored” used by a South African, I was offended. In America, the word is outdated and even frowned upon because it is historically associated with segregation and the Jim Crow south. In South Africa, the word holds completely different meaning. The word “colored” refers to a racial group made up of multiethnic individuals who have ancestry from various populations including Khoisan, Bantu speakers, Afrikaners, Austronesians, and sometimes South Asians. The physical features of those classified as colored vary, but many of the kids in Manenberg look just like I did when I was kid. I would be classified as colored here, but in the United States, they would be seen as light-skinned black people.
My service learning began in the black township, Nyanga. As soon as we drove into the township, it was evident the kind of destitute poverty that was prevalent in the area. The sides of every road were lined with shacks with broken windows, shabby roofs, and barely any space. When we got to the school, the kids chased the bus and cheered as we stepped off. They treated us like we were celebrities with their big smiles, wide eyes, and warm hugs. Amidst the joy of seeing their faces, I noticed that several of the kids were not wearing any shoes. I was saddened because I knew this was a small indicator of the type of poverty they faced every day.
In the same week, I visited Manenberg, the colored township, for the first time. I immediately noticed the stark contrasts between the two townships. As we drove to the school in Manenberg, I noticed that the streets were not lined with as many shacks as in Nyanga. There were more houses. The township looked less like an area struck by destitute poverty and more like a lower income area in the United States. It was still poverty, but it was a different level of poverty. When we arrived at the school, the kids greeted us much like the kids in Nyanga greeted us. I immediately noticed that all of the kids were wearing shoes. I noticed a difference in their appearance. It was a level of poverty that was similar to what would be seen in the U.S., not the type of poverty I saw in Nyanga. I was angered by the differences I witnessed because I instantly knew why.
Towards the beginning of our stay in South Africa, our study abroad leaders explained the history of apartheid and the social hierarchy that existed during the period. The hierarchy was as follows: white people were supreme, colored people and Indian people were in the middle, and black people were at the bottom. This social hierarchy translated into the conditions in schools and housing in colored townships versus black townships, which explains the differences that I have seen during my visits. It is the legacy of apartheid that is still alive, this idea that all non-whites are oppressed but even within this oppressed group, some people gain a little bit more favor or privilege for being closer to whiteness. The idea that one sect of a racial group could be deemed better or worthy of more resources just because of their lighter skin tone angered me, but it was the type of colorism my peers back home had tried to explain to me all along. The difference in the black and colored townships is the physical manifestation of a visceral kind of colorism that still plagues this world today. I get it now.
Breana Ross 