lawns and legends....

I love that so many of my people are living their dreams. I often say I loved Wits, that she was a great place to learn and explore. Its also nice when little things shrink the years and throw in perspective....

I went to Wits 'cause I thought, from London, that it'd be an African university...that it'd push me...and it did. It wasn't African though. Well, not black. I remember those idiotic conversations so well...I still hear them...'but, isn't Wits a black university?' WTF.

Stranger still of course to those idiots who understand so little about themselves and our world 'cause, of course, many think its FAR too white a university. I can feel the hairs raising on reader's backs already. There is a point. Just wait.

So one response I often had was for people not to be stupid....Wits has more white students than Rhodes has students. Full stop. I used to say it as a joke, but I know people who'd find that sad. Very sad. Point is most of my mates at Wits were white, most of my experiences where white experiences. I could've been at UCT, or Stellenbosch ...at least for my first year.

Then I sought some stuff out. Found some people, some parties, some
politics. And I loved it, and hated it. I was also pretty damn good at
the politics precisely because I was white/am white. I got stuff done.
I could talk the talk and walk the walk......

Its funny 'cause I had my toughest little life year there. SRC President. It looks nice on my CV but I don't put it on. After what I thought was a dismal failure of a year I remember being surprised to have people say to me I'd been the best president in years.......mostly because I was white they thought so. They weren't racist. Oh no. And I did get things done. I'm proud of my year now, looking back, I worked f'n hard and for free...to be be free.

Back to the legends. From my time there I have friends who now close 60 Billion Rand deals, do PHD's in New York, win international entrepreneur awards, build houses, own practices, save lives and write columns. My old Wits people
are successful people. The ones that are alive at least. Some aren't.

One, an alive friend, wrote a column this week from New York, in one of our few decent papers. He lamented how few white south african friends he has. And helped illustrate why...

Zuma'd been smoozing in New York last week and hundreds of Saffa's crawled from the subways to see him. I've seen that smooze in full flight. I had the pleasure of having breakfast with JZ and 4 editors in Davos this year. He's slick. And warm and likable and impressive. And I like him less, for being capable of so much and being so dodge.

So after the schmoooooz a crowd chatted. The 'africans' berated his politics, lamented our future....worried and debated...the 'europeans' mocked his accent. Taunted his intelligence. And it made my friend sick.

Makes me think we should be doing so much better. Makes me feel good to be
here trying. Makes me want to become an evangelist and convert bigoted and prejudiced and burdened...and get racial again for a while so we can stop hearing conversations about whites and blacks and educate some people. And so my gorgeous kids, who may be white who knows, may not be too burdened by this bull.

And I'd rather they be burdened then be the so called 'colour blind' of canadians and others where everyones's white, even if they're black.

Anyone still with me?