Middle of the Night Musings

It's the wee hours of the morning and my brain is in overdrive. I am and I am not sure why. Some of it is because June 16 is Youth Day in South Africa. It commemorates the so-called Soweto uprisings when young black South Africans rebelled against Afrikaans (the language of governance and power) as the language of learning and teaching. In "black" schools and where mother tongue was/is unlikely to be that. Language of learning and teaching remains an issue. It probably will, for centuries. After all, language is hegemonic.

I was 13, 45 years ago and remember this and other images from the newspaper. There was no television then.

Source

So much has changed and so much has not. It's not only about language, it's about apparent willful neglect of those schools and communities most needing of help.

Not only is this a time I remember, but it was the beginning of an awakening. I might come back to that at another time. A headline or throw away comment I saw on Monday, has haunted me. That the majority of young people born since 1997, have little concept of what is being commemorated today. That is not surprising. It's nearly half a century ago. And those young people are busy being part of history. Just as we were, then, and in the subsequent years leading up to 1990 and beyond. We paid no mind mind to to history. Let alone "recent" history.

Again, how life changes and stays the same. How humanity learns from history and does not.

As the country wakes up to a public holiday, many will lament not being able to buy a pack of beer to have round the braai: we are back into level 3 restrictions with no alcohol sales over weekends and public holidays. Few will think about 1976 and the human cost and that there are many, my age and older, who don't just remember it from our school common room newspapers, but live with wounds inflicted then, and which still smart because they haven't entirely healed. Probably won't.

This will probably rattle round my head all day. A day which will start by sorting what remains of last night's chicken roast for another three meals. At least.

Because there has to be at least one food photo...

I will also be working and lunching with friends at a winery and having that transatlantic discussion that never happened last week.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Post Script

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