You Are Worthy.

I had initially planned a different post for this week, however, the reality of what is happening around us is sitting heavy on my heart.

So much so that my mind keeps replaying an incident that I had not thought of for years.

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For a brief moment in 2009, my sister and I both lived in Hatfield and we had no responsibilities, just each other. It was the most fun time of my life. We were independent and young without all the trappings of adulthood like bills and stress-induced migraines.

One day we were randomly walking through Hatfield plaza and we passed a hair salon that had just opened up. So me being the girl that wore heels and a full face of makeup to campus stopped to ask if they would take a walk-in. This stunningly beautiful woman looks at us and says "Sorry but we don't do your type of hair," and with those 9 little words I felt so small.

I must have stood there for a minute in absolute silence before meekly replying "thank you" with a smile and walking away. Inside I was fuming but I said nothing out loud because I felt so humiliated. It's only when my sister said "screw it, let's go to Menlyn they have better salons" did I feel my eyes start to well up. In an attempt to not cry in the middle of the mall I suggested we head to the restrooms under the pretext that I needed to pee. As we walked in I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and my hair was straight and tied up. I had a love affair with my GHD at the time so my hair was always poker straight. What part of me I kept thinking gave away that I don't belong, that in a totally empty salon you will refuse me service based on my hair type.

I would GHD every curl out of my hair

I never thought of that day again but this past week the humiliation and feelings of unworthiness that I felt in that moment has played back over and over. It has evoked such raw and visceral feelings of not belonging simply because I looked different. This feeling of not belonging is something that so many others go through on a daily basis.

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I have always said that I never truly realised what I looked like, that I am actually a brown person until I came to varsity. Racial prejudice was always a far off problem that I was always slightly removed from. Even though it was always common knowledge in our home that my dad left Mauritius because of the prejudice towards Creole people it never directly affected me. I grew up so removed from all the prejudicial aspects of my being that my siblings and I are actually extremely proud of our Creole heritage.

I am so grateful to my parents for protecting us from so much and giving us a chance to thrive and be whatever we wanted without any constraints. I wish I could give that same freedom to Toren but that doesn't seem possible and I feel somehow unprepared to parent him in these troubling times.

How do I help my boy with his beautiful head of curls and who interchanges, English, Zulu, Tswana and Creole words in the same sentence accept himself?

How do I teach him to love himself for who he is and have him believe that he was made in God's image when I myself struggle to do that?

How do I teach him to stand up for others when they are being mistreated while still staying safe?

As much as I want to write all of this off as a problem out there that doesn't affect us, that would be foolish and I would be turning a blind eye to a very big problem. Collins Khosa, Sibusiso Amos, Adane Emmanuel are all too close too home for me to pretend that the use of excessive force by law enforcement officials against black bodies doesn't affect us.

When I read that in his last moments George Floyd cried out "mama," as a mom that struck a chord in me. I imagine how I would feel if that was Toren calling out for me and I was unable to save him.

As moms, I feel that we now have the opportunity to do better, teach our children better, and create a better world for them and their children.

So tonight I go to bed and pray for clarity, for God and the Universe to show me how I can help create change for the better.