People, please stop letting the sexist little things slide

Tags

little things, patriarchy, politics, sexism

Fighting against patriarchy and sexism is hard. It’s bloody exhausting. Some days you want to give up. You don’t stop noticing it or caring about what it does to women. You can see how it shuts women out of conversations and makes them question themselves. But some days I feel like it’s just me against the patriarchy and I just need a rest.

Because it never stops and you can’t escape it. It’s in politics, it’s in our homes, it’s in the goddamn water! And all I want is to call for back up and be flanked by an army of women who get it. Get what? Get that we can’t let the little things slide. Because those little sliding things fall on top of each other and they prop up the bigger things that make news headlines. They prop up domestic violence and rape and femicide. It’s a system, people.

So when I see women perpetuating this system I feel betrayed. I expect my sisters to oppose the system. I expect them to help me. I don’t expect to have to fight them. This week I witnessed a well-known woman condoning sexism and giving away some of my power.

Mbali Ntuli was elected this month as the leader of the Democratic Alliance Youth. Last week two people tweeted sexist messages at her on Twitter. The first one from ORAKHAN© read “I’d vote for DA anytime if I can go out with Mbali Ntuli,tjerrr what a beautiful woman”. The second tweet from ‘ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ Thabang’ read “DA’s Mbali Ntuli neh.. ufck what she’s saying, she just looks downright edible right now. I’d do things to that girl.” Ntuli responded to these men in a way that condoned their behaviour and made a joke out of it.

@ZacaVZ @mphsti lol pity we can't do votes for dates lol—
Mbali Ntuli (@mbalimcdust) May 16, 2013

@Thabbztheman lol—
Mbali Ntuli (@mbalimcdust) May 16, 2013

This is an example of the little things that we can’t let slide. I wanted to know why she thought that the man’s comments were ‘funny’. I tweeted that question at her but she didn’t reply. It was then that my idea to write a blog post about the little things emerged. I went to sleep after jotting down a few ideas and intended to start writing it the next day. But when I woke up and started to write I began to question myself. Am I being too pedantic? Is this a silly thing to draw attention to? I questioned myself because other people have questioned me before. I shelved the idea.

Then this weekend a friend of mine called me. She told me about a terrible experience she had at work. I asked her if I could share her experience and she agreed. Jane (not her real name) is a lecturer at a South African university. She is incredibly successful. She is only 21 and is lecturing second year students while completing her masters. Her faculty asked its students to complete an anonymous review on all its lecturers. When she got her results back she was shocked at some of the comments. While most of the comments were positive some students had described her as ‘bitchy’, ‘controlling’, and ‘so hot it’s distracting’. “They would never say those things about a male lecturer,” Jane told me over the phone.

She was most upset by a male student that came to her office after the review. He complained that my friend was unwilling to assist learners during consultation hours if they hadn’t done the necessary preparation. Jane explained that she gets angry with students when they don’t come to her lectures and then expect her to lecture them one-on-one during her consultation hours. Without a sound argument he resorted to calling her unprofessional and mean. When she began to respond to this accusation he got aggressive and said “don’t get emotional.” She was stunned. At his point Jane’s senior lecturer intervened and booted the student out her office.

When the student told Jane not to get emotional she knew how it made her feel – she became uncertain and questioned her reaction – but she didn’t know there was a word for it. It’s called gaslighting. Gaslighting occurs when men elicit a reaction in women and then undermine their reaction by accusing them of being crazy, emotional or not having a sense of humour. It is essentially telling a woman “I don’t value how you are feeling or your reaction because you can’t control your response”.

Like the men that tweeted at Ntuli, many of Jane’s students had objectified her. They had disregarded her intellectual ability and reduced her to a sexual object. This had made her question whether she was at fault. “I don’t even wear short dresses,” she told me. When Thabang’s tweeted “… ufck what she’s saying, she just looks downright edible right now. I’d do things to that girl” he also disregarded Ntuli’s intelligence and achievements. Ntuli was just a body to him and she did nothing to show this man or her 4500 followers that his behaviour was wrong.

My friend was right when she said that her students would never call a male lecturer ‘bitchy’ or ‘controlling’. In men these qualities are described as being ‘confident’ or ‘assertive’. Andi Zeisler, co-founder and editorial director of Bitch magazine, explains why men call women bitches:

…Bitch is a word we use culturally to describe any woman who is strong, angry, uncompromising and, often, uninterested in pleasing men. We use the term for a woman on the street who doesn’t respond to men’s catcalls or smile when they say, “Cheer up, baby, it can’t be that bad.” We use it for the woman who has a better job than a man and doesn’t apologize for it. We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation.

Jane’s experience made me realise that I had to write about not letting the little things slide. I had to write about how damaging Ntuli’s comments were to women and the struggle for gender equality. I realised I had gaslit myself into not writing the blog post. I had told myself I was overreacting to Ntuli’s tweets. This is why fighting patriarchy and sexism is so hard. It influences even those who are ardently opposing it.

Ntuli might think that it is funny when men objectify her but it’s not. She is an influential woman in South African politics and has the attention of many people. Her responses condoned the men’s behaviour. Because she did not tell them that their comments were inappropriate and sexist they will in all likelihood continue to act this way.  But the most damaging effect of her behaviour is that she might make other women question their reactions when they are a victim of sexism. Should I let this slide? Is it worth making a fuss? 

Do I expect more from Ntuli because she is a public figure? Yes, I do. The ground that she concedes in the fight against sexism is my ground too. It is also Jane’s ground. When Ntuli publically condoned sexism she gave away women’s power without our permission. She does not have that right. How powerful women act in public reinforces private relations. It affects how men treat Jane and me.

We need to stop letting the little things slide. Challenge sexist tweets, comments and jokes. I know it’s hard. But when you’re tired and you hear the voice that says “just let it go” – please don’t.

Follow @kateomega

Meg Jay: Why 30 is not the new 20

Tags

20, 20-somethings, 30, growing up, meg jay

Meg Jay’s TED Talk made me look. She argues that “far from being an irrelevant downtime, our 20s are a developmental sweet spot that comes only once.” Her advice to 20-somethings? 

1. Invest in identity capital. Start doing things that are going to make you the person you want to become. Want to become an actor? Join the local drama club. Want to become a journalist? Start a blog.
2. Build a wide social network. New opportunities usually come from outside your small group of friends. You need to start thinking about what your friend’s friends could do for you.

Patriarchy? Oh, she got it from her mamma!

Tags

feminism, patriarchy, SA's Got Talent

This morning I was on a 6AM flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town. I had finished off the book I was reading – Greg Marinovich and Joao Silva’s The Bang-Bang Club – and then fell asleep. I woke up when the pilot announced that we were beginning our descent.

With my chair in the uncomfortable upright position and without anything to read I ruffled through the pocket in front of me. Passing over the safety manual I grabbed Mango’s inflight magazine Juice. Flipping through it aimlessly I settled on a profile of Botlhale Boikanyo. She, at the age of 12, won SA’s Got Talent last year for her poetry recital. In the question and answer section Botlhale came across as a confident young woman. Part of the poem that she had recited in the competition was included in the profile. It was what you would expect of a 12-year-old – it was sweet. “Africa my roots,/Africa my pride/ Oh Africa!” she writes. She describes a continent with a diversity of cultures and calls for spirit of Ubuntu.

But the second stanza took a nasty turn from sweet to sexist. “What happened/to those days?/When women knew their place[?]” she cries. I can’t take swipes at a 12-year-old because at that age we all said stupid things. But what I fail to understand is how the judges could think that a young woman lamenting the demise of sexism is a prize-winning performance.

In the interview Botlhale refers to her mother editing her poems and putting in some “spices”. “I come up with the skeleton of the poem, then my mom adds more flesh,” she says. I think we can conclude that apart from the spices, she also got her patriarchy from her mamma.

Follow @kateomega

When in America, catch the chickenpox

Tags

america, chickenpox, lifestyle, maine, travel

When holidaying with your boyfriend’s family it is important to create the right impression. You pack classy clothes, get your hair cut and promise yourself you won’t drink too much. You wax, exfoliate, pluck and book a mani- and pedicure in preparation. You also pack an extra stash of birth control so you can be period-free. While you may cover all the possibilities – Citra soda for a UTI or aloe vera for a sun burn – there are certain things that any woman would be unprepared for. Chickenpox would be one of them.

En route to America I stopped over in England to spend some time with my sister and her family. I was beside myself to see my niece and nephew. I had brought presents and the day I arrived I was taken hostage on the couch as we read Roald Dahl’s The Witches. While I smothered them in love, kisses and literature I was in return being smothered with the varicella zoster virus – chickenpox.

The next morning my nephew woke up covered in spots. As the nanny drove out the driveway to take him to the doctor the implications of a spotty nephew dawned on me. My sailing holiday was in danger.

No one understood my hysteria until I revealed that I had never had chickenpox. I went to the same school for 13 years and no one ever had the virus. I blame my private school education for my underdeveloped immune system. I raged at my mother for not doing more to expose me to sick children, cried on the phone to my boyfriend about our ruined holiday and phoned the NHS who told me that there was nothing they could do. My only hope was that the spots would arrive after we landed in America because, apart from people of Middle Eastern descent, the Yanks aren’t too keen on letting pustule ridden tourists through immigration.

I made it to the States without spots and had a week of glorious holiday. We went sailing, walked along the coast, watched a fourth of July parade and basked in the sun. I had all but forgotten about the chickenpox. I had persuaded myself that I was lucky! I wasn’t going to get them!

Then one morning, as I snapped my bra on, I glanced down to wriggle my boobs into a more comfortable position and I saw a small, red bump between them. At first I thought it was a pimple. It was only after poking and prodding it for a while that I realised that the pimple was filled with liquid. I looked up at the mirror and took three steps back. As more of my body was exposed I saw thirty other pimples scattered across my chest and tummy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…fuckfuck!” I shouted as I grabbed a towel and stepped out of the landing to find my boyfriend. We went back into the bedroom and I stripped down for him to inspect me. The final diagnosis was that they were everywhere and spreading fast.

And then I started crying. I cried because my mum wasn’t there and she would make it better. I cried because I was worried about ruining everyone’s holiday. But mostly I cried for all the great photos that would be ruined because of my spotty face. Oh, I cried about the photos.

I was horrified to be seen by anyone. Multiple times a day I would retire with my boyfriend to reapply camomile lotion. Dutifully he would dab it on my back and my most intimate of places.

A couple times a week guests would come over for dinner or drinks. When my boyfriend or his parents would call to invite them they would have to preface the conversation with, “Um, just out of interest…have you had the chickenpox?” When they arrived I would try to stay hidden for as long as possible – a spotty Quasimodo. Finally I would be pulled out of the shadows into the hall and introduced. I would stand there braless (because it rubbed too much), wearing a see through maxi-dress with my face covered in camomile lotion, smiling through my spots and shame.

While the chickenpox might have slowed me down a bit I needn’t have worried about making a good impression my boyfriend’s parents (future in-laws?). They have now seen me at my most vulnerable, most unattractive and most pitiful and still seem to like me. I have even been invited back next year.

A trip that I thought would be ruined was only slightly hampered by the nasty virus. And if you were to look at my pictures you wouldn’t even know I had the chickenpox. An afternoon of meticulous photoshopping removed the nasty buggers and left me with spotless memories.

Chickenpox? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Reflections on the Eastern Cape Schools Solidarity Visit

Tags

education, human-rights, politics, South Africa, zakes mda

Eight eminent South Africans – authors, activists, analysts – were invited by Archbishop Thabo Makgoba to take a trip to the Eastern Cape from 23-26 April 2013. They included Elinor Sisulu, writer, human rights activist and political analyst; Janet Love, Commissioner of the South African Human Rights Commission and Director of the LRC; Sindiwe Magona, writer and women’s activist; Professor Njabulo Ndebele, writer and academic; Lindiwe Mokate, Commissioner of the South African Human Rights Commission; Zakes Mda, novelist, poet and playwright; Graeme Bloch, researcher and education analyst; Professor Pierre de Vos, constitutional law scholar.

Equal Education, the organisation I work for, helped plan the Eastern Cape Schools Solidarity Visit. Archbishop Makgoba gathered together a formidable group of people to visit the province and draw attention to a national problem. Travelling with them would be the eyes of South Africans.

The Eastern Cape has some of the worst school infrastructure in the country. I can rattle off the numbers by memory now: There are 5,676 public schools in the Eastern Cape.  1,152 schools do not have electricity and 116 have an unreliable electricity connection. 1,096 schools don’t have a water supply and 322 have an unreliable water supply. 551 schools have no ablution facilities and 3,160 schools use pit latrines. 5,508 schools (97%) don’t have a functioning library and 5,465 schools (96%) don’t have functioning computer centres. There are over 300 mud schools in the Eastern Cape. [SOURCE]

Last night, at The Book Lounge in Cape Town, three of the delegates spoke about the trip. The room was packed to capacity with people sitting, standing, kneeling, crowding the doorways and looking in through the windows from the pavement. Zakes Mda, Sindiwe Magona and Professor Njabulo Ndebele reflected on the three days they spent in the Eastern Cape, the people they met and the things they saw.

The Solidarity Visit reflection at The Book Lounge.

Zakes Mda told the audience that he had first declined the Archbishop’s invitation to join the Solidarity Visit. “When Archbishop Makgoba invited me to join the delegation I initially declined. It was going to take place at a time when the university I teach at has exams. I had papers to mark, exams to oversee and dissertations to supervise,” he said. “But then my wife told me you can’t turn the young people of South Africa down! When they call you, you must go.” Zakes said he was devastated by what he saw. He spoke in particular about visiting Samson Senior Primary School – one of the over 300 mud schools in the Eastern Cape. The school has no official structures. Learners attend classes in two mud classrooms, a church hall and community members’ rondavels. The classrooms have no electricity and the nearest tap is 5km away.

Zakes Mda sits at a desk inside a mud classroom at Samsom Senior Primary. Picture by Sydelle Willow Smith.

Samson Senior Primary provided a supporting affidavit for Equal Education’s court case against the Minister of Basic Education Angie Motshekga for Minimum Norms and Standards for School Infrastructure. The court case, which followed two years of campaigning, was settled and Minister Motshekga published draft Norms and Standards earlier this year. The regulations should state exactly what every school should look like and what resources it should have. However her draft was a vague, weak and disappointing document. During a comment period over 1000 teachers, learners, parents and organisations made submissions on the draft. She will publish the final Norms and Standards on 15 May 2013 when they will then become law. If the Minimum Norms and Standards are tangible and set out clear time frames they will help turn around schools like Samson Senior Primary and change the lives and futures of its students.

Students march for Minimum Norms and Standards for School Infrastructure in 2012.

If the Norms and Standards include clear regulations on classrooms and class sizes they could fundamentally change what it means to be a student at Ntapane Junior Secondary School. In one Grade 9 class the delegates found over 130 students.  “I walked into this class and found a lot of attentive young people who seemed engaged with their studies. They viewed us with a great deal of interest. In other words, I got the sense that the school children loved being there to learn,” he said. “But I also couldn’t miss the fact that there was a great deal of overcrowding. In other words, the spaces between the desks – you can’t even go through. Contact between the teacher and the student, particularly those that are right in the back of the class, is almost impossible. The teacher can’t move around because the kids are bunched up together. The sense of overcrowding is palpable.”

Over 130 Grade 9 learners in a classroom. Picture by Sydelle Willow Smith.

Sindiwe Magona was deeply moved by the state of the toilets at Nyangilizwe Senior Secondary School. “What we saw there, if it is not a sin than it is a crime. Those schools aren’t schools – they are health hazards,” sher There are 730 students at the school and they share eight dilapidated, smelly pit latrines. After viewing the toilets Sindiwe said that she was reduced to tears. Some of the toilets don’t have doors and the school has replaced them with plastic sheeting. There is no toilet paper and no hand basins. A female student showed Nashira Davids from The Times how using the toilets had caused her buttocks to become covered in pimples. Sindiwe reiterated what she had said earlier that week at the press conference where the Solidarity Visit was announced, “Poor children should go to school to experience normal life. School shouldn’t reinforce poverty.”

A learners leaves the dilapidated toilets at Nyangilizwe Senior Secondary. Picture by Sydelle Willow Smith.

Zakes made a closing comment about the Solidarity Visit and Equal Education. “I am always encouraged by the strength of civil society in South Africa. I believe civil society will save this country… With young people like this how can you be devastated about South Africa? My hope and optimism were raised by these young people of Equal Education,” he said.

While it is true that Equal Education does much for the quality and equality of South Africa’s education system, Equal Education’s Deputy General Secretary Doron Isaacs highlighted a different point: it does just as much for the people who work in the organisation. “Being a privileged youth and mopping up two degrees at university I found a home in Equal Education. It helped me shed my layers of ignorance,” he explained. I am lucky enough to have found the same.

Rastafarian learner unlawfully suspended from Khayelitsha school

Tags

education, human-rights, politics, religion

Equal Education Press Release – 26 March 2013 – For Immediate Release

On 13 March 2013, Sikhokele Diniso, a grade 10 learner from Siphamandla High School in Khayelitsha, was instructed to leave school and not to return until he had cut his hair. Diniso is a Rastafarian and growing his hair is a part of his faith. Equal Education (EE) and the Equal Education Law Centre (EELC) have been in contact with the school and the Western Cape Education Department (WCED) to ensure his return to school. However, neither the school nor the WCED have attempted to facilitate Diniso’s return.

Unlawful and unconstitutional exclusion

The principal of Siphamandla High unlawfully suspended Diniso from school on 13 March despite the fact that he was scheduled to write tests for History on 14 March, Mathematics on 15 March and Life Sciences on 18 March. He has been unable to write these tests and has fallen behind in the curriculum due to his suspension. On 20 March, the EELC, acting on behalf of EE and the learner concerned, wrote to the WCED requesting that the learner urgently be re-admitted to his school [LINK].

Schools cannot use learner dress codes as the basis for unlawful exclusions that violate constitutional rights as well as the South African Schools Act (SASA). School Governing Bodies are supposed to consider the National Guidelines on School Uniforms when adopting a code of conduct for a school. Section 29 of the guidelines state: “A school uniform policy or dress code should take into account religious and cultural diversity within the community served by the school. Measures should be included to accommodate learners whose religious beliefs are compromised by a uniform requirement.”

The principal’s actions violated Diniso’s constitutional rights to dignity; freedom of religion; and basic education.  His exclusion is also a violation of section 9(3) of the Constitution which prohibits unfair discrimination on the basis of religion, conscience, belief or culture.

The principal’s conduct is unlawful as it violates section 5(1) of the SASA which requires a “public school to admit learners and serve their educational needs without unfairly discriminating in any way”.

His action disregards a Constitutional Court ruling (MEC for Education: KwaZulu-Natal and Others v Pillay) that stated that schools must, where possible, accommodate learners’ sincerely held religious and cultural beliefs and practices.

A widespread problem

This is not the first time EE has had to contact the WCED on behalf of Rastafarian learners who have been unlawfully suspended from, or denied admission to, school because of their religious beliefs [LINK]. On two previous occasions this year and during the course of last year the EELC, acting on behalf of EE had cause to contact the WCED when Bulumko High, also in Khayelitsha, unlawfully suspended learners on this basis [PDF].

These cases underscore the reoccurring nature of this problem in Khayelitsha schools and elsewhere in the Western Cape (as in the recent case of the Muslim learners in Kuilsriver).  The WCED must intervene in these cases, as learners are not only being denied access and admission to school, but are also being deprived of valuable schooling time.

EE has requested that the WCED consider adopting a broader approach by issuing a circular to schools to provide clarity on the legal position concerning schools codes of conduct and learners’ religious and cultural beliefs and practices. To our knowledge, this has not occurred.

For comment please contact

Yoliswa Dwane (EE Chairperson) on 072 342 7747/ 021 387 0022

Lisa Draga (EE Law Centre Attorney) on 072 650 0214/ 021 461 6582

Kate Wilkinson (EE Media Officer) on 082 326 5353

2013: My year of feminist literature

Tags

feminism, feminist, literature, new year, resolution

Most years I set resolutions. They are of the same calibre every year: go to the gym three times a week, drink more water, eat less junk food, stay in touch with family and friends. Each year I achieve some but let most slip away. This year however I have decided to set only one resolution: read and write more. It may seem like two resolutions, but they are so intertwined that to split them is impossible. I am also going to refine this resolution – make it more narrow, tangible and hopefully achievable. I am going to spend this year reading and writing about feminism. I will read one feminist book a month from January 2013 to November 2013. I will save December 2013 for review and reflection.

Why now? I think it is because I am tired. I am tired of coming up against sexism and patriarchy. I am tired of meeting women who “don’t consider themselves feminists”. I am tired of hearing female politicians denounce feminism. I am tired of gaslighting and mansplaining. I think the solution to feeling tired is to find strength. I want to read about feminism so that I have a history to draw on when I am told that I am being “overly sensitive”, that I “must get over it” or that I “don’t have a sense of humour”. The women whose books I will read will give me both support and ammunition.

Which books? To prepare for the year ahead I Googled “top ten feminist books”. There were quite a few lists but none of them felt right. They listed books and women I had never heard of. I need to start somewhere familiar. I need a launching pad that I feel comfortable with. My mother has provided me with this. When I was growing up she was constantly reading feminist literature. As a teenager I would grab one of her books and open it randomly. It always felt quite illicit. I would read a few paragraphs about the word ‘slut’ then open another page and read about the history of contraceptive. So when it came time to choose my first four books for 2013 I went back to my mother’s collection. She helped me choose these books and helped me start this journey.

January – The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir

February – The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedman

March – The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer

April – Promiscuities by Naomi Wolf

Why only four books? I am sure that once I start the year I will discover books that I want to read. These four will just get the ball rolling. I also want to be open to suggestions throughout the year.

I am giving myself a head start on my first book, The Second Sex. Clocking in at over 700 pages I want to make sure that I finish it before the end of January. I will also be tweeting as I read. You can follow me at @kateomega.