I'm taking a Master's class...into Me. Part 1- Where i grew up
If you follow me on twitter, you will know that I have just been watching a couple of episodes of 'Oprah's Master class' on TLC. And something that Jay Z just said got me thinking about what lessons there are in growing up where I grew up and how it may have shaped my views about myself and others?
Most of my young life that I am cognisant of, was spent in a then leafy surburb in the armpit of Midrand, Olifantsfontein. In those days there were still more white people living there than there were black families and this was a big deal. I remember the looks we would always get from visiting relatives from Polokwane because we actually had a swimming pool at home. We were called 'Makgoa' because of it and we loved it, because to be called 'white' in our time, was quite the compliment. I cherish the days I spent in those streets, riding around on bicycles with my siblings and group of friends. I had a very girly- pink mountain bike with changing gears and it was the best thing that ever happened to me as a young girl.
On that bike I discovered new streets in the neighbourhood and renamed them 'Sally street' or 'My street', depending on how much I loved the street.There was a particular street, called Smith street. It was one of the quieter streets in the neighbourhood. I can count on one hand how many times I actually saw people outside of their houses in that street. The houses just always looked more beautiful, more pristine (very Wisteria Lane-like, Desperate Housewives) and I remember there was even a house with an actual picket fence. All white and with neatly clipped green hedges. That became the prototype for my dream house. I imagined a happy family behind the hedges, playing scrabble and drinking hot choclate. It became my little escape. Whenever things got too much at home or I when I just needed to remind myself that I would one day leave Olifantsfontein for something better, I went to Smith street and there I could dream.
If I could have analysed what my obsession with this street was then and could put it into words, I guess I would have realized that what I was after was peace, understated beauty and tranquility. That is why when all the other kids wanted the hustle and bustle of our street, Meintjies street, what interested me was quite the opposite. I liked what they called the 'white streets'. The quiet streets where the occupants had the option to leave the neighbourhood and see the country and the world, instead of just been stuck with the neighbourhood being the most beautiful place that they had ever seen. It is here where my love and need for travel was born. I wanted more for myself. What have the places where you have been taught you about yourself? Have you ever stopped to ask?
Most of my young life that I am cognisant of, was spent in a then leafy surburb in the armpit of Midrand, Olifantsfontein. In those days there were still more white people living there than there were black families and this was a big deal. I remember the looks we would always get from visiting relatives from Polokwane because we actually had a swimming pool at home. We were called 'Makgoa' because of it and we loved it, because to be called 'white' in our time, was quite the compliment. I cherish the days I spent in those streets, riding around on bicycles with my siblings and group of friends. I had a very girly- pink mountain bike with changing gears and it was the best thing that ever happened to me as a young girl.
On that bike I discovered new streets in the neighbourhood and renamed them 'Sally street' or 'My street', depending on how much I loved the street.There was a particular street, called Smith street. It was one of the quieter streets in the neighbourhood. I can count on one hand how many times I actually saw people outside of their houses in that street. The houses just always looked more beautiful, more pristine (very Wisteria Lane-like, Desperate Housewives) and I remember there was even a house with an actual picket fence. All white and with neatly clipped green hedges. That became the prototype for my dream house. I imagined a happy family behind the hedges, playing scrabble and drinking hot choclate. It became my little escape. Whenever things got too much at home or I when I just needed to remind myself that I would one day leave Olifantsfontein for something better, I went to Smith street and there I could dream.
If I could have analysed what my obsession with this street was then and could put it into words, I guess I would have realized that what I was after was peace, understated beauty and tranquility. That is why when all the other kids wanted the hustle and bustle of our street, Meintjies street, what interested me was quite the opposite. I liked what they called the 'white streets'. The quiet streets where the occupants had the option to leave the neighbourhood and see the country and the world, instead of just been stuck with the neighbourhood being the most beautiful place that they had ever seen. It is here where my love and need for travel was born. I wanted more for myself. What have the places where you have been taught you about yourself? Have you ever stopped to ask?
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