- a politics of the self moment -
it is a narrative that begins at. i couldnt sleep. i tossed and i turned. and now it is around 4 am and i am here. writing to someone. to anyone. perhaps it a conversation i am trying to have. or perhaps it is my therapy. but nonetheless it is around 4 am and here i am. writing.
choked up. trying to find the correct tone. wondering if i will succeed. wondering if it even makes a difference. wondering if i actually care. because right now what i am is angry. and in so doing i find that in addition to that im also tired. im so tired of keeping quiet against my will.
but then what people have to say. we rubbish it. or we ignore it. but now heres the thing. generally. particularly right now. we find ourselves in positions of lamenting the absence of voices who say something else. and yet. that starts small. does it not. that starts with the practicing of the ablility to engage in responsible conversations. and if what happens at the the micro level goes on to be reflected in the macro. it starts small. these ofcourse being the very conversations we are not having. or maybe dont know how to have. i think this is probably why i find myself here. im always threatening to write some or other indignant letter to some or other body. but it occurs to me to start at home. we spend so much time in these spaces. find ourselves in these spaces. grow. i should apparently know better. like but whats the point. things always so misconstrued. disrespected. taken for granted. misunderstood. this always standing so lost in translation. im apparently supposed to know better. but i dont. i know some of you. some of you i dont. but i have no doubt that in our moving in and out of here i share space with some illustrious company. in whatever way shape or form. you are the people i am walking with. this right here is a collective. is a community. is a space.
im going to try to watch my tone. only because i think its important. and its important because i need for whoever takes the time to realise that im not fighting. this is no accusation/indictment on men. i am not saying this is how men are. i am saying this is something that happens. there is a difference. i would be sad if my efforts were to be reduced to such. that would be to render this a complete waste of time. which i dont believe it will be. what this is is a question.
WHEN DOES IT STOP BEING A JOKE.
and this is now me shooting from the heart. from the hip. putting my foot in it. etc etc. it is whatever it may be called. but here it is. and it is what it is.
im so tired of keeping quiet against my will. because it is a strange thing. but i feel like even in so called enlightened spaces (enlightened the word used for all intents and purposes). it becomes a most difficult thing to say something. wait until you are a woman with an opinion. some of the thoughts comfortable others not. what ive experienced is that we are quick to label people who say. who say i dont like this. we call them aggressive. we call them confrontational. we judge them. and we punish them. we punish them in our families. we punish them in schools. we punish them in our cultures. we punish them in our societies. we punish them in our various groupings. the same way we punish people who raise their voices in discontent against any prevailing order. the status quo that always benefits one over another. problems surmounting. the unspoken rule is that it is uncool to respond to issues.
i am not writing this to ball break or whatever other tag gets attached. i am just tired. i am so tired of being told i cant take a joke. when the said joke is always at my expense. when the very idea of it being a joke is only as it were a disclaimer. and then in all these conspiracies of silence. people learn to keep quiet. problems/challenges arent solved. and resentment rises. and then hark! we are surprised at the state of the world outside. why. who is the world outside if it isnt a you and me. we arent willing to risk ourselves enough to start engaging in a manner so urgently required in our societies. how exactly do we plan to be responsible global citizens. when we fail to be responsible selves. im tired of the double standards that have us waving acts and laws when the foundation is sand. talking rights. with some women using them to abuse and further small gains. double standards that have the 'new' woman being all interested and multitasking all things dude like when its like but sometimes it feels like guys arent prepared to listen to what we would also like. the double standards that forget that to say you understand can be a different matter altogether to actually understanding. and moving from there.
people differ. women differ. take the time to read the signposts. to chance take is to know that someone might not find it flattering. some people dont mind. people differ. there is nothing flattering about a constant barrage of misplaced/a**umed sexual references at inappropriate times and in inappropriate spaces - namely work spaces that is. and if this means we need to understand what inappropriate spaces means. then by all means lets go there. the texture of the human experience is both simple and complicated. very often we journey tricky terrain. life in shades of grey. it is of the imperative that we begin to understand what that means and what it takes. in practice. to build around it. to not is neglect. take the time to read the signposts. because one day unbeknown to you you will find yourself as someones last straw and it will be a situation. the type that drives me to drink.
the subject of my affliction. he who pushes me over the edge and inadvertently helps me grow. is some guy from work. who recently made the most shocking comment. he calls me over. very serious looking. so i stop what im doing. move over at quick speed. as far as i was concerned he was about to give me some gentle nudge in the right direction. advise me in some way. he was standing there with another guy. someone older than both of us. who proceeded to get all shifty eyed and move away as soon as moment was now under way. im afraid i will not repeat what he said. to that degree its personal. i think maybe it doesnt matter really what gets said. what matters is its effect. id like to focus on effect. it was very very sexual. he left me feeling so uncomfortable he may aswell have just put his hands all over me. such was the impact of his words. its not even about him really. under any circumstances its the kind of comment that could only have come from my guy. and even then at a push. it would have to have been made be my guy for a while. not a somebody just nje. he must never. i thought i had just stepped into a scene in a movie. and i was the anti hero. i thought i was the one going mad. i said what. i regained my balance again and followed that up with an excuse me. he didnt stop. he didnt see the light of my soul frantically flashing amber. or he just plain refused like he couldnt be bothered. he just got louder and more brash. and as i started to walk away. keep walking they say. the words. they betrayed me. falling out my mouth like. how dare you. i stopped. and turned around. because from my reaction what should have followed. what should have followed was the beginnings of an apology. we are talking a cool guy here guys. someone i was cracking jokes with. most of them dodge. we are not talking a 'for lack of a we had an established rapport' situation. i know his tip. and ive laffed. safe to say i wonder if these are not scenes that capture the makings of an ice queen then. when familiarity breeds such contempt. he crossed a line. it took my everything to drag myself off. fuming. i was shaking. my words stumbling over themselves to jump in. he crossed the line and upon my indicating as such. where there should have been an apology all i got for my tries was this big show about how i cant take a joke. and he wont change. this is who he is. and and and. mind you there was no laughter in his eyes when i looked up that first time to meet his comment. when my eyes said careful. his said no. when mine said chuckle now. chuckle nervously and chuckle fast. his said no. and his mouth continued. a spade. digging. with one girl later sort of coming in like. thats him and thats how he is. now trying to be managing me as the situation. the aggrieved. when they should have jumped in then. instead of shirking off into corners. rather taking the chance on me instead of him. the same way zumas behaviour can be seen as questionable. when someone of his party standing. of his age. did not get up and atleast tactically rebuke malimas comments right then. someone with a clearer/sharper knowledge of the game. now everyone is nervous. nervous because now the chance might just grow into a scene. because now its too late. its too late at the part where im half throwing things around. getting angrier and angrier. angry simply because im like this shouldnt even be happening. here. its too late now at the part where im saying how dare you. how dare you talk to me like that. it took my everything. walking away giving the art of restraint a chance. it was just certainly not the space. and one of us had to check ourselves for the bigger picture. the aggrieved. and then when i file this complaint and he gets his a** fired. im the party pooper. when i get up and say i dont want this to happen. it shouldnt be happening. do me a favour and know who you can say that shyt to. feel free. just dont be subjecting people who are minding their own business to stuff they arent looking for.
there is nothing more tedious. with time off the clock. trying to make our moves. change our lives. to spend your time trying to get through the bores of life admin. just under g. and then also to find that as a woman moving through these spaces most times you are now immediately a woman for the taking. people are hustling you guys. we are all hustling. sometimes we are not there to look pretty. not there for your convenience. and then there will be some sob story about young ladies are not inspired enough. arent taking advantage of the opportunities out there of their own free will. not making their mark and their invaluable contribution. for some yes. that may very well be the case. for some its just way too much trouble than its worth.
he was just one too many.
and its a question. when does it stop being a joke. when we are all there hustling. when does it stop being a joke. when im the tos for being moved to react. when im damned if i speak. and damned if i dont. when does it stop being a joke. if i dont share in the joke. when im standing there telling you i dont find it funny. and you are not sorry. when we are all bound by the same common courtesy as fellow human beings. when does it stop being a joke.
we cannot always change what came before. we cannot always change what we already know. but we can create new knowledge.
but anyway. goodmorning then. i hope you have a nice day. make it not blue. but a yellow monday.
ed's note: this is my personal feeling. my personal opinion. i do not a**ume and do not intend to be speaking on behalf of all women. this a very general attempt framed in my own personal understanding and experience.
