Whether you were harmed by a single person or an entire system… is it possible to genuinely forgive and move on?
I wonder.
If you were declared an alien in your country of birth, forced to carry a pass authorizing your presence in restricted areas, evicted at gun point as it pleased the ruling government…is it possible to forgive and move on?
I wonder.
If you were detained without formal charges for 90 days because the mere fact that you existed and used your brain power posed a potential threat to the maintenance of apartheid, if you were shot in the neck as you stood up for your rights…is it possible to forgive and move on?
I wonder.
If many people claim that, other than the ruling party, nothing has changed in South Africa…have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If the only time I see a black woman in the wealthy neighborhood Tamboerskloof is either as a nanny pushing a stroller with two giggling, white, young children or as a waitress serving food at the restaurant… have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If Michael, the person preparing breakfast and providing us with fresh towels and bed sheets, travels two hours from a township to our B&B and returns to his family of four late at night…have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If the Constitution promises everyone the right to work and the right to adequate housing, yet the unemployment rate for black South Africans stands at 39% and every homeless person we see on our way to work is black…have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If those spearheading the struggle against oppression, exclusion, and corruption become corrupt, exclude, and oppress themselves…have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If the perception of present-day South Africa is almost perfectly divided among racial lines… have we really moved on?
I wonder.
If we name streets and buildings after activists and places, if we build to commemorate but fail to remember…what is the point of moving on?
I wonder.
Can we forgive and yet remember?
I wonder.
