Like many people who were teenagers in 1976, when school children in Soweto, engaged in an anti-apartheid protest on 16 June, were gunned down by police, I have mixed feelings about today.
I was in Grade 9 (known as “Standard
7”) at the time, at Harold Cressy High School. I think that was the first time
I’d heard the word “solidarity”. The news of this horrendous incident spread and
we were informed that schools across the country would be protesting, in
solidarity with the Soweto learners and the greater struggle. Before 1994, the
day was known as Soweto Day, and was not a public holiday. In 1994, it became
one of the post-apartheid public holidays and was renamed Youth Day. Looking at
the decisions made in that time of transition, I can see how much was done in
the spirit of reconciliation, but today I have to wonder why so many compromises
were made, whether it was worth it, and whether it’s the reason our country’s
in the mess it is today. Even renaming it Youth Day takes away the essence of
the day. When I hear what some young people think the day is about, I have a
dilemma: should I give them a quick history lesson, or be impressed by their
fresh take on the significance of the day?
While the issues plaguing South
African youth today are not the same as they were in 1976 (today’s youth having
been born in post-apartheid South Africa), I think it’s crucial that they at
least know the history of the day and see themselves as part of the broader
story. While foreign visitors to our country rave about the world-class roads,
hotels, game lodges and shopping centres, the lived reality of most South Africans
is completely different. That was how “township
tours” started – people living in those Third World conditions wanted foreigners
to get the full picture, as well as to distribute their extravagant spend more
widely. I worked in the TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) industry for
a total of 10 years, in which time I encountered foreigners who welcomed the
opportunity to visit townships, as well as those who felt it was intrusive
and inappropriate.
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On a more personal note, I am
using today as a much-needed Trudy Day. I need a break from the stress of my
job, right now, and today’s a perfect breathing opportunity.
The company I work for has embarked
on a process known as “Section 189” (of the Labour Relations Act), which is essentially retrenching staff
whose posts have been declared redundant, as a cost-saving strategy. That’s the
clinical explanation. To the “staff”, namely the PEOPLE, it’s a lot more
devastating. Each employee received the first letter, informing us that the process
had begun, what the steps were and by when it would be completed. Each of us
received the news with our own set of personal fears, linked to our own
circumstances, as well as to the dire employment situation and economic crisis in
our country. For people who have working partners, it’s a little less
frightening, because there’s at least another household income. For people who
have parents able to support them, there’s that safety net.
For me, as I wait for this axe to
fall, I can hardly breathe. I feel like
I’m drowning. My employment contract expires when I turn 65, which was
reassuring, until about three weeks ago. However, I’ve lived through enough –
including retrenchment, in October 2010 – to know that even permanent contracts
aren’t permanent. As long as you’re working FOR someone else, you’re at the
mercy of other people’s decisions. As someone who essentially believes that socialism
is the only system that effectively respects and cares for the needs and rights
of every citizen, I’m once again feeling the sting of being a tiny cog in the
gigantic capitalist machine.
And as the theory turns into
an actual friend calling me and telling me she's leaving, my heart knows it can’t
avoid breaking over and over again. As an empath, I can’t tell the difference
between your pain and mine. It’s exhausting, to say the least. It takes all the strength I have (sounds like
the lyrics of “I will survive”) to keep getting up each day and going through
the demands of the job, all the time knowing that I could receive that second
letter, which would change my life and that of my daughter’s in ways that the
decision makers would never take responsibility for.
The last time I was retrenched, I
was 49. After two years of taking short contract jobs, I returned to the government
education sector, teaching at a high school for five months, then lecturing at
a college for three years. And then I left the civil service - for the third time.
😊
This time, I’m three months away
from my 60th birthday. Personally, it’s a good time of life for me –
I feel more at peace with who I am than ever before, and I’ve sorted out a lot
of things, as my experiences have given me
new insights and perspectives. I’m consciously looking after my health and am
fitter than I’ve been in a long time. It’s strange - to put it mildly – to feel
this much at peace with who I am and simultaneously feel the dread of a tidal
wave possibly landing on me.
Everything I believe in tells me
to keep a positive attitude, that there are other opportunities out there, that
I have skills that are needed in this country, that my children are adults, so
I could finally consider working abroad, that the universe has always shown me my
next path, that I’ll be ok, that I’ll be ok, that I’ll be ok…..
And so I get up every morning, I
do my morning things, I arrive at my workplace – usually my lounge, as I’ve been
working from home under lockdown – and I work. I have virtual meetings, I send
emails, I have discussions on the phone, I check in on my team’s progress and
offer guidance where necessary, I respond to requests from the public, and I
report to my superiors. When a new project comes up, I draw up a plan, assign
roles and do my part, including keeping the working document updated. At the
end of my working day, I get up from the table and the rest of my life happens.
For my mental and physical health,
I exercise three times a week, I drink lots of water, I eat fruit and salad
daily, I meditate, I do Mind Power, I stay in touch with a few people on
similar journeys and avoid toxicity wherever possible. I’ve also become busy
with my crafting, so I’m always working on something. Interestingly, all the
recent blankets and beanies have been sold, so that hobby’s become a small
income generator. I also love writing, so I’ve been writing little chapters
about the music side of my life and posting a new chapter on my Facebook musician
page every fortnight since early May.
You know that feeling of things being
beyond your control? That’s where I’m at in my job. In the rest of my life, I’ll
keep focussing on what I can control, I’ll keep working with my habit tracker,
and I’ll keep believing that – no matter what happens during this round of retrenchment
– I’ll be ok.
I’ve found myself at the
crossroads before. Somehow, I’ve always managed to find my way.
