Who do you say I am?

By Riaan Pretorius

Salute to the two young ladies who have started this movement!

I grew up in a time when the phrase I identify as wasnt even part of our
vocabulary. One was Coloured, and Black, and you had to figure your way
from there. Ive been so intrigued by the information, comments and
discussion on this page that Ive spent countless hours scouring through
each comment gleaning as much as I could about our history even though
there is so little information officially available.

Throughout my life I have never felt offended by either label. Coloured, Black
or sometimes even Indian Let me elaborate. I work for an Israeli
company, in Ethiopia. For the first time since my teenage years, my race
became of some significance to me. You see my ancestry, traced to just two
generations before me, is Cape Coloured, Portuguese, Xhosa, Boer and either
Indian or Arab. Ive been asked what I am on many occasions while working
here and when I say I am a Black South African people look at me like I am
crazy. Ive had some Kenyans put their arms next to mine and start laughing
at the idea. So, the Israelis consider me Arab, the Europeans consider me of
Mediterranean descent, the Ethiopians consider me Indian, the Mozambicans
call me Mulatu and in South Africa I am a Coloured/Black.

So, what am I? How do I defend my blackness over all the ethnicities present
in my bloodline? Should I force myself to ignore my whiteness? Ive grown up
in Durban but our family spoke Afrikaans, ate koeksisters, braaied and
watched Rugby on Saturdays. We laughed at Tolla, Schuster and all sang the
Vyfster theme when it came on. Yet, my Uncle knew how to slaughter
animals in the traditional Xhosa way and essentially was fluent in Xhosa
even though he could pass for a white person on the sunniest of days.

How is one supposed to form a semblance of identity when there has been
such an overlap of culture across ones genes? Why do we have to be
labelled? Should I learn Zulu or Xhosa just to prove my blackness? This
conversation bugs me at least once a year on Heritage Day when my kids
ask me what cultural outfit theyre going to wear to school.

Who do you say I am? I say I am a South African. That is all. No further
explanations should be required.