2013 Feb. 10: Parts

by Andiswa Dlamini

Part 1
 (you spoke)

Before you spoke to me
Uttered any words, I had no expectations of you
And you had non of me
But when I thought of you
I thought of you as a human being
Breathing this atmosphere of life
I looked at you and saw a man
One that probably takes care of his family
A man that smiles for great success
A man not limited to societies norms
I thought your mind could see beyond the physical
When I looked at you I saw a man
And thought of you as a person who was living in the same reality of this world that I am Before you spoke to me
You briefly looked at my outfit
And concluded that I was a guy
I was sitting on the side so you said you couldn’t see carefully
And when you looked at my chest
And saw my breasts you started to conclude my life for me
You forgot about my mind
And you started to create your own path for me
You said that it was heavenly
And that’s blasphemy
Because my mind doesn’t create a path for me
Where I stand in between crossroads and
Ask to be corrected I do not speak such words
The oxford dictionary in my mind
Has refused this term, that is used to be misused
By arrogance
A term that justifies abuse
A rape that has reason
A rape with intention
A rape with explanation
A printed definition, its written
And I refuse to read that verse
That was created to be accepted, correction
I refuse to read that verse
That was created to be corrected
Before you spoke to me I was not angry
I was having a drink with my friend
Discussing how beautiful love is’ Love’
A word that requires no definition
A word that can’t truly be justified It is defined in different explanations Its intention is written differently in every bodies mind
Before you spoke to me
You were fine
You didn’t have to tell me
That if I were your kid you would treat me differently cause honestly I would never want a father like you I would never want any relation to a man
That has a small mind like you do
You narrow minded prick
I’m trying not to be angry
But the fact that you touched me
Disguises me because I felt you hand
A hand with no powers to create
Only destroy you answered a question for me
Speaking out boldly that I was acting like a guy
Before you spoke to me
I never questioned the fact that I see myself
as a woman
One with a nice haircut And a beautiful smile
A woman that feels uncomfortable in a skirt
And doesn’t see the point in her cleavage
A woman that enjoys sitting naked in her room
Because I’m comfortable in my skin
Before you spoke to me
You concluded my personality
“My act of being a guy”
Because your narrow mind
Believes that only men can please women
Before you spoke to me
I had no intention of educating your mind
And you had no intention for my life
But your purposefully sitting next to me
Hoping that I would reply, respond to your mind.

Part 2
(my reply)

So I replied,
I responded to his mind
And I said;
You narrow minded mother fucker.
You arrogant son of a bitch.
Close minded prick
Your insecurities define you
Let me bring myself to your level
Cause my mind is too broad for you to read
Listen you are nothing but a man
That listens with the head of his dick
Cause that’s what frustrates you
It infuriates you
that I too, want to sleep with women
And I could have said fuck
but what I do to women involves more than just that

I want to provoke your anger so that you know that
I want to touch women
Feel them rub against my skin
Use my finger as a brush to their canvas

As we paint beautiful melodies
That leave us in a tune of climax
But this is still to open for your mind
So let me narrow myself down
You are a man with no dreams
Because dreams have no limitation
And you have limited your mind
I responded and I said;
I’m not a guy, you didn’t hear me say those words
I don’t walk around thinking that I am one
I am a woman in fact that’s the reason why you label me ‘isitabane’
because I’m a woman that loves women
but now you think I walk around speaking to women like you do
let’s play the comparing game
cause that’s what you do
I like women so do you
You fuck women, I please women
You have a dick, I don’t, never needed one
You’re part of the norm, I’m forbidden
Fuck’it cause I don’t really care about you
The truth is my mind is still too high
Still too open to be closed

Its more intelligent
it listens to logic
And it is in touch with common sense
And it only makes sense to tell you
That women love with emotions
And your dick is physical
It can never change the way I feel
So I wrote a part 3
To understand this definition of ‘correction’

Corrective rape

Part 3
(understanding correction)

The dictionary speaks;
“Corrective rape, is a hate crime in which a person is raped because of their perceived sexual or gender orientation
It’s common intended consequence is to ‘correct’
Turn heterosexual
Or to make them “act” in conformity of gender stereotypes
A term coined in South Africa
It is a rape against those who violate social norms
Corrective rape is a reinforcement
Corrective rape and the accompanying of violence can result in physical,
psychological trauma,
HIV infection,
unwanted pregnancy and may contribute to suicide”
This is what I found while browsing through web pages trying to understand this term
So now I speak
Corrective rape is the inadequacy of a man’s life
The pain of emasculation
Corrective rape is the act of forcefully shoving a penis into a vagina
it is accompanied by a fist on the face and the breaking of a rib cage…
it is accompanied by words that were the intention of this rape in the first place
It involves, screams, shouts, shattering cries
It involves helplessness and power (domination)
Corrective rape is a brutal act that is supposed to result in a woman that is supposedly cured of her sexuality cause supposedly you will love a man after that
And a woman will see her peaked fence 2 garages, 2 kids and the man as the head of the family corrective rape is a result of damaging dreams, a stain of emotion
It results in the killing of women contributing to the fear women now have in live freely Corrective rape is accompanied by unknown stories cause many are not willing to speak Many women can’t speak cause they have been silenced
Corrective rape comes with murders
Blood stains on the floor
And these men walk freely on the street

Thinking that they can get away with more
Corrective rape is a term that now justifies an action, somewhat
Making it acceptable because men now have reason
Corrective rape is a term that stands to be corrected cause
I refuse to understand
How sex can change love
I refuse to understand how getting raped
Left raw with a statement cause his words were
I am not man so is this how you show me what a man is?
I refuse to be corrected, correction
I refuse to be used for a man’s inadequacy
For the volume of his mind is too small
For me to understand how he can correct someone that was never wrong.

______________________
About the author
Andiswa Dlamini is a spoken word poet and performance activist from Durban, presently living in Johannesburg after completing her studies in Cape Town.
Read her previous in Blacklooks.org

http://www.blacklooks.org/?s=Andiswa+Dlamini

Posted in Activism, Archived memories, Arts, Black Lesbians, Black Lesbians & Allies Against Hate Crimes, Community, Community Mobilizing, Crea(c)tive senses, Expression, Hate Crimes, Poetry, Profile, Queer Africa, Queer poetics, South Africa, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | 10 Comments

2012 Nov. 20: Mourning on commission

by Christie ‘FossilSoul’ van Zyl
© 2012

                                                Even with our roots tracing back to Ubuntu…

None of my compassion dares trace back to you;

But I felt your spirit wrench in agony as they butchered your soul,

for your heart’s inclination.

You murmured sweet nothings of romance,

only to be murdered ,and for your reality to be called nonsense.

I did not know your name,

Neither did I ever get to see your face;

Lest I too be maimed for associating with the lover in you.

None of my heart’s ear be ever lent to you, lest I to be silenced from fighting for the others just like you.

None of my cries be ever heard for you, lest…
I too have my tongue slashed; and strawberry sweet kisses stripped from the love that I make in remembrance of you…

Nginenxeba mntakwethu, fanele ngibuze:

Senzeni na…

I am now stripped…
stripped down to only being able to mourn you on commission.

For my empathy has been under toned, to only

being able to express life’s loss of you in exhibition.

To only being able to mourn you through the aesthetic engagement in the images of the brutalities you faced, spread…
over crisp white walls; for institutionalized critics to tear my only memory of you apart with nothing but technicality.

I never knew you; neither did I ever get to see your face,

But I swear I feel as though I am one with you.

For you left with me that inbred fear that will never leave the hearts of our collectives, you left my ears ringing with the panting screams you cried when you tried to call out for help and nobody heard you coz they too believed that you deserved it.

They too believed that you were defying human nature.

They too believed that you were better suited for fatal judgement over something that hurts absolutely nobody;
above the love and protection they had promised to give you as their sister, brother, friend, neighbour, daughter, son, confidant and even once their lover.

So this is I, paying the dues for all the ignorance that killed you,
all of the belligerence that had you murdered.

I am heartbroken too,
for I have now been stripped…
stripped down to only being able to mourn you on commission;
to only being able to express life’s loss of you in exhibition.

To only being able to mourn you through the aesthetic engagement in the images of the brutalities you faced…spread…
over the front pages of newspapers,
for people to make even harder disastrous conclusions about exactly what we are not.

I PRAY YOU HEAR ME.

I did not know your name,

Neither did I ever get to see your face;

But I felt your spirit wrench in agony as they butchered your soul,

for your heart’s inclination.

You murmured sweet nothings of romance,

only to be murdered ,and for your reality to be called nonsense.

How this could be I could never know, when all you wanted to do is love freely, without being regarded as less than human; for falling in love with a complete being and seeing past their containment.

Yes, intolerance has taken precedence over our universal right to loving true and tender, a passing culture’s boundaries has given age old tradition so much power; that we cannot even be protected by our own fundamental rights of existence…
before being limited by the boxes of our demographic.

I did not know your name; I did not get to see your face…

I will never even get to mourn your absence in this life.

I am stripped down to only being able to mourn you on commission.

For my empathy has been under toned, to only

being able to express life’s loss of you in exhibition.

Titling my exhibition:

HATE CRIME IS IDOLATRY:

Hate crime is nothing but the idolatry of a dictatorships ideology.

________________
About the author

Christie v Z

Christie v Z. in Khayelitsha township. Cape Town (2012)
Photo taken by Zanele Muholi

FossilSoul (Christie van Zyl) is a poet who was born and raised in Kwa-Zulu Natal, a proud Zulu woman and an advocate for personal development, growth and the evolution of humanity. Inspired by raw emotion, expression and vivid connection to evolution, she is moved by grief, loss & struggle and channels her poetry according to the progression of dealing with the natural process of life.

FossilSoul often finds that our divine beings are stifled by our own confusion and emotions, to this she says ‘alignment is the key to all liberty, for constraint comes from contradiction… and the pain it bears only self-inflicted’. She believes in harnessing latent energy through the maintenance and scaling of balance; which she best achieves through alignment of the heart, body, mind, soul and spirit; which she best practices through aligning too her faith, hope, belief and trust in her higher being.

FossilSoul moulds her being according to constantly seeking truth, justice, order, righteousness, transcendence and balance.
She looks to strength, compassion and self-mastery to always constantly maintain humility in order to always be seeking more knowledge and wisdom. FossilSoul is in love with the drums of Africa, which make her tap into the guidance and protection of her ancestors, she believes them to be angels sent from God, but that we too are born to show them the faults of the times they lived, in order to free them so that they too may continue steadfast on the path towards their own Mastery.

A visual, conceptual, performance artist and poet FossilSoul has completed a bridging course in art and design; and has also dipped her foot in an interior design course as well as social development. FossilSoul has part taken in three video productions, namely ‘My Silence’ which was a cry out about women abuse; secondly was ‘Tribe’ which was a preview of movie about love’s origin. Third and lastly FossilSoul participated in production and art direction in a video called ‘Lona Umzimba Wami’ (2011), a production by Zanele Muholi, stating that women should claim their bodies back and not have it only exposed for mass consumption.

FossilSoul has completed a workshop on the skill of making video art at Greatmore Art studios, as well as a cartooning workshop too. In the installation of ‘Transmogrify’ she uses spoken word and motion images to walk a viewer through her mental processes when approaching life.
She uses the dung beetle of the scarab, which is considered in Egypt to be a sign of Life.
Relating to the human process of evolution and being misunderstood in this manner, she highlights the importance of being aware of self in engagement and all aspects of alignment and being; as it is directly attached to one’s cipher and how it is received.
This is her ‘Transmogrify’. All of FossilSoul’s work has its foundation in her poetry

FossilSoul is the co-founder and administrator of on an exhibition called ‘Women’s Journey Exhibition’.
It is the brainchild of Nompumelelo Rakabe (BlackSoul of Art) and it is in celebration of the journey of female artists in South Africa.

FossilSoul recently stumbled upon the desire to create an arts development program that could alleviate the problems faced by the youth of Mzantsi in relation to lack of opportunity, and lack of access to resources. She is currently researching to make a proposal to fund this project, registering a joined effort with Nompumelelo in an art development company named BlackFossilSoul Creations.

 Previous articles:
Links to online works by Christie

Videos on YouTube:
 
Poem on HOLAAfrica blog:
Isilumo Silumile
Poems in Sparkling Women edition no.15 on Facebook: 
Inherent Spaces
Sparkling Women edition no.16  on Facebook
Sensations :
 
WJE Women’s Journey Exhibition Features:
Female journey to heart of City (Polokwane observer online)
The Women’s Journey unleashes dragons. (Limpopo online)
Celebrating Women in the arts with The Women’s Journey Exhibition (Sparkling Women Edition no.15 Facebook)
Column written on Limpopo online:
Christy van Zyl speaks: Limpopo My He(art) edited by Koketso Marishane
 
Blog contributions on Freegender.org
Press conference on Sihle’s Sikhoji’s murder
 
Exactly eleven days ago at the memorial service of Sihle Sikhoji
Posted in Activism, Archived memories, Black Lesbians & Allies Against Hate Crimes, Community, Community Mobilizing, Connections, Crea(c)tive senses, Documentation; Filming; Photography; Community, Networking, Performance, Profile, Readings, Records and histories, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | Tagged | 7 Comments

2013 Feb. 24: Misinformed stereotypes among lesbians

by Lesego Tlhwale

I recently read a status update on facebook, supposedly written by a “femme lesbian”. The status had a lot of likes and comments concurring what the lady was saying. But to me this was a rather judgmental post and it had me wondering if we as Lesbians do we understand the diversity that is in the community we claim we belong in?
I wonder really…

The diversity I speak about is the understanding that each individual is unique and also recognizing our individual differences. It is about understanding each other and moving beyond simple tolerance, to embracing and celebrating the rich dimensions of diversity contained within each individual.

Lesbianism is defined as a sexual and romantic attraction between females, with that said, the lesbian community has diverse types of lesbians who act and behave differently. Below is a list of defining different types of lesbians:

  • Dyke or Butch – A lesbian who dresses and behaves in a masculine fashion.
  • Femme, Lipstick Lesbian, or Girly Girl – A lesbian who dresses and behaves in a feminine fashion.
  • Futch – A lesbian who is both femme and butch.
  • Stone Butch – A lesbian who is strongly masculine in character and dress, who tops her partners sexually (and sometimes emotionally), and who does not wish to be touched genitally.
  • Pillow Queens – A lesbian who is femme, who is the receiver in sexual interactions, and who does not wish to give back sexually.
  • A soft butch — also known as a chapstick lesbian — is a woman who exhibits some stereotypical butch lesbian traits without fitting the masculine stereotype associated with butch lesbians.
  • Baby Dyke – A young, inexperienced and/or boyish lesbian; also sometimes called a Baby Butch.
  • Tomboi – A submissive butch.

Now going back to the post I read, which started by saying, “to all Butches ladies please slow down you not man just because Femmes tend to accept all your stupid demands that doesn’t make you man or close to one for that record”.

She further says that, “I don’t care if ya’ll hate me for this I’m just passing my message, just because you chose… to fake your voice, wear men clothes and act like man doesn’t make you one”.

Now if you are a butch lesbian such as myself, you might find these statements offensive, you might want to be on a defence and state over and over again that you’re not trying to be a man, and you acting in that manner is merely expressing the person you were born to be.

I also recently posted on my facebook timeline, reasserting that, “I don’t look like a man, I don’t act like a man, and I don’t want to be a man. I’m a woman, and the way I look, acts, live, and love, are all the ways of a woman too. I’m different from many women, and many women are different from me, yes, I recognize this, and I celebrate these differences when I call myself butch”.

I didn’t choose to be masculine, I don’t fake my voice and me wearing men clothes certainly doesn’t make me a man.

I don’t know if our fellow lesbian sisters suffer from ignorance or lack the ability to accept, celebrate, embrace and respect the differences that are encompassed by individuals. I find that in the lesbian community there is a lot of ignorance and often intolerance of people who are interested in exploring the more masculine side of themselves.

The status raised a lot of issues that I felt the lesbian community neglect to discuss but tend to bash if they don’t relate. We find it easy to paint a negative picture about something that we don’t understand rather than asking the next person to explain it.

The poster further said,
“And to those who don’t want to take their clothes off during love making bitch take them off what are you hiding?
a magical penis?
I mean what you got that she doesn’t?
and to those who don’t wanna be fucked back by femmes
Yini ndaba are you getting it from man maybe and now you don’t want her to feel it?”

After reading the above paragraph, I seriously felt that the poster had insulted stone butches, I mean the fact that she insinuated that the reason they don’t want to be on a receiving end might be because they are sleeping with men is disrespectful to lesbians who don’t prefer to be touched genitally.

I battle to understand why it is someone’s business how other people prefer to engage sexually. I mean just like any other human being, we all have preferences and ways we chose to express ourselves sexually. If someone choses to be the pleaser and get off from pleasing their partner without them being pleased what is it to you?
Who are we to dictate how some people should have sex?
And who said the way you have sex is the right way to do it?

You know the more I think about these issues, the more I realise how we as the LGBTI community get consumed into tackling issues of homophobia, hate crime and societal acceptance and in the meantime neglect to address the diversities and dimension that are in our community. The concerns raised by the lady on facebook might be a way of saying, ‘I don’t understand such behaviours, so am going to interpret them in my own way’. Unless we speak about these issues openly, we are still going to come across such stereotypes in our very own community.

______________

Previous article by Lesego

2013 Feb. 12: A dildo is not a man; it’s a fantastic toy…

Posted in Arts, Black Lesbians, Community, Exposure, Love, Readings, revolution, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

2013 Feb. 24: Haunted by my past

Had 2 glasses of wine so excuse me
if I sound a bit too much for one read
I was raped as a kid and
I can only mention it here and now,
so when you see me
don’t ask me about it again

I was about 3 or 4 years when it started
I remember this cause I hadn’t started with school as yet.

I was raped by my neighbor a lots of times,
he would call me to a half built house and rape me there,
I don’t remember crying,
I knew he hated me and there was nothing I could do to change that,
he wanted to hurt me
and I had no power to run or hide.
Then one of the ladies who lived next door got a boyfriend
and
she was going there
and
I was invited to come along
and
when we got there she let him rape me,
I wonder what was going through her mind
I don’t know what made her hate me that much.
And while playing behind our house
we came across a dangerous criminal,
me and a friend knew the guy
was bad news cause we’d seen him getting a beating
once or twice,
he called me to the bushes,
out of fear I went and he raped me there,
by then I knew I was cursed or something

Then one day on my way back from school
I was dragged to the schools toilets
by a guy who was coming from a near by technikon
and
he raped me there,
I didn’t even know him,
I don’t know what he had against me.
Then there was a ritual next door
when one of the neighbor’s sons came to the gathering
locked me in his mom’s bedroom and raped me,
still
don’t believe that no one heard that

See today I got in a taxi
and the driver started telling me about my thighs
and how he wanted to take a picture of them.
I was scared out of my mind
everything came rushing back.
That was the longest day at work ever.
Got home and I was going to have a glass of wine
and pass out,
then I find myself even more emotional
and I write this

____________________

Author’s name reserved to respect her identity.
NB: Message received via email.

Posted in Activism, Archived memories, Arts, Community, Documentation; Filming; Photography; Community, Expression, Family, Hate Crimes, Rape, Readings, Records and histories, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

2013 Jan. 5: Photo Archive

2013 Jan. 5: Photo Archive

Msai Gugu Masinga & Kebarileng Sebetoane (2004)
Photo by Zanele Muholi

Part of our SA (queer) visual history.

In the photo is Msai Gugu Masinga & Kebarileng Sebetoane both activists who have contributed towards our LGBTI history. They both volunteer for FEW and now works for different companies.

The photo was taken on the streets of Kensington, Johannesburg.
Just outside 7 Panther street where the Forum of the
Empowerwent of Women (FEW) was founded in 2002.
The photo was later used as one of the organisation poster’s.
The logo on the left was designed by Payne Phalane (Fine Artist).

Posted in Abantu, Activism, Arts, Black Lesbians, Community, Community Mobilizing, Connections, Documentation; Filming; Photography; Community, Exposure, Expression, Founded, Life Stories, Networking, Organizations, Records and histories, Visual history, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | Leave a comment

2013 Jan. 1: *The choke of grief

by Unoma Azuah  

I invoke their names:

Desire Ntombana

Mandisa Mbambo

Phumeza Nkolonzi

Thapelo Makutle

Neil Daniels

Sanna Supa

Sasha Lee Gordon

Hendrietta Morifi

Nokuthula Radebe

Noxolo Nogwaza

Nqobile Khumalo

Ntsiki Tyatyeka

Tshuku Ncobo

Milicent Gaika survives

But the list lingers

A cascade of lives lived and loved

Plump fruits crushed

on the barren bough of hate

Their lives thumb my prayer beads

Sorrow mutes my plea to heaven

I choke on their mangled bones

I choke on their mangled bodies

Strangled, raped, clubbed, shot

Beaten, tortured, slashed with

Knives of blunt hunt

Carved beyond the hearts of animals

But these are my family

The pain is the heat of burning meat

Flesh charred on the flames of bigotry

These are my clan whose bodies have been

Scarred by the claws of hate

Girly Nkosi

Eudy Simelane

Khanyiswa Hani

Sibongile Mphelo

Daisy Dube

Madoe Mafubedu

Thokozane Qwabe

Salome Masooa

Sizakele Sigasa

Zoliswa Nkonyana

Mpho Setshedi……….

These are my family

As their ashes circle my anguish

Their names swell with the whirlwinds

I choke in my grief

And watch their spirits

roll off the slabs of the slain

And rise

like a burst of butterflies

into the horizon

These are my kindred

If there’s a God, she must hear

my cry for justice.

© 2012

*This poem is dedicated to my Queer family, victims of the brutal hate crimes in South Africa:
Sihle (19), stabbed to death by a group of gangster in Philip township, Cape Town;
Phumeza (22), lesbian, shot three times in her home in front of her grandmother, in Mau Mau, Nyanga, Cape Town;
Mandisa (33), stabbed to death and allegedly raped at her home in Inanda township, Durban
Thapelo (24), gay man, brutally murdered in Kuruman, Northern Cape;
Neil, transgender person, murdered in Cape Town;
Sanna (28), lesbian, shot dead in her home in Soweto; Sasha, trans woman, stabbed to death in Wynberg;
Hendrietta (29), aka Andritha, lesbian, murdered in her home in Polo Park, Mokopane in Limpopo;
Nokuthula (20), lesbian, strangled with one of her shoelaces in Everest;
Noxolo (24), lesbian, brutally beaten to death in Kwa-Thema, Johannesburg;
Nqobile (23), lesbian, murdered, her body found in a shallow grave near her parents’ home in KwaMashu, Durban;
Ntsiki (21), lesbian, murdered, her decomposed body was discovered a few metres from her home in Nyanga East, Cape Town; Tshuku(26), found dead, believed to have committed suicide;
Girly  (37), lesbian, stabbed and died of her injuries in KwaThema, Springs;
Eudy (31), lesbian, raped and murdered in KwaThema, Springs;
Khanyiswa (Lhoyie) (25), stabbed and murdered in New Brighton, Port Elizabeth;
Sibongile (21), raped, her vagina mutilated, shot and killed in Strand, Cape Town;
Daisy, trans woman in her 20s, shot dead in Yeoville, Johannesburg;
Madoe (16), lesbian, raped and stabbed to death in Kliptown, Soweto;
Thokozane (23), lesbian, stoned to death in KwaZulu-Natal;
partners Salome (23), lesbian mother, and Sizakele (34), lesbian, both raped, tortured and murdered in Meadowlands, Soweto;
Zoliswa (19), lesbian, stoned to death in Khayelitsha, Cape Town;
Mpho (27), lesbian soccer player, shot dead in her home in Yeoville, Johannesburg;
Millicent (31), lesbian, suffered ‘curative rape’ and severely beaten in Gugulethu, Cape Town.
She is a survivor.

______________________________
About the author:
Unoma N. Azuah is a poet, a writer, a literary scholar, an activist and a College Professor. She earned acclaim through her writing and through her research on sexuality and LGBT issues in Nigeria.

Posted in Activism, Arts, Black Lesbians, Community, Documentation; Filming; Photography; Community, Expression, Networking, Queer Africa, Visual history, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | 13 Comments

2012 Nov. 27: Faces & Phases exhibition opening

2012 Nov. 27: Faces & Phases exhibition opening

Rolling the cameras are my brothers and team players, L – R: Themba Vilakazi (photographer and videographer / editor) and Breeze Yoko (video artist and film director)

@ Goethe Institut, Johannesburg

L-R: Ayanda Magoloza one of the participants in the series sharing a good laughter with the photographer, Zanele Muholi.  Photos by Lindeka Qampi

L-R: Ayanda Magoloza one of the participants in the series sharing a good laughter with the visual activist/ photographer, Zanele Muholi.
Photos by Lindeka Qampi

Collen & Tshidi who are members of Uthingo, Daveyton were present to.

Collen & Tshidi who are members of Uthingo, Daveyton were present to.

Welcoming speech by Dr Katharina von

Welcome speech by Dr Katharina von Ruckteschell

L-R: TK Khumalo, Yaya Mavundla, Le Sishi & Ntobza Mkhwanazi

L-R: TK Khumalo, Yaya Mavundla, Le Sishi & Ntobza Mkhwanazi

For more photo check:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10200697577861518.2202667.1223456677&type=1&notif_t=like

Posted in Abantu, Activism, Arts, Black Lesbians, Career, Community, Community Mobilizing, Connections, Documentation; Filming; Photography; Community, Expression, Family, Health, Institution, Life Stories, Love, Networking, Organizations, Professionals, Profile, Records and histories, Sexual Liberation, Sponsorships, Townships, Visual history, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures | Tagged | 1 Comment

2013 Feb. 8: “Let your voices be heard”

by Charmain Carrol

Given an opportunity to tell my story I will talk about where I’ve been and what I have done and the remarkable people I met along my journeys. This remains in my archived memories. It was an ardent path that any other youth might have gone through without much guidance and support from parents and relatives. One had to rely on strangers and friends who then became my extended family. People who loved and embraced me as their daughter, younger sister, who loved my daughter as theirs and fed me when there was no food on the table.

Charmain Carrol  (14-02-2013) Photo by Maureen Velile Majola

Charmain Carrol
(14-02-2013)
Photo by Maureen Velile Majola

My name is Charmain (without an ‘e’).
My surname is Carrol.
I’m a gender activist, a lesbian mother, a partner, a media activist, a homemaker, a writer, a motivational speaker, a counselor and facilitator. Currently I work for the bank as an External Sales Manager and part-time for Inkanyiso productions as a volunteer reporter and project administrator.

I was born on the 7th July 1977, Durban. KwaZulu Natal.
Birthed by mixed parents, an Indian father and a Xhosa mother which makes me be classified as colored according to the South African color bar.
I don’t like that much but prefer to be just ‘Black’.
I speak English, Xhosa, Zulu and Afrikaans.
I embrace Xhosa and Zulu traditions and thus perform rituals from both tribes. Ngingumuntu nje!

You know it stunt me to see that some people will stand in front of me in the queue and gossip in Zulu assuming that I don’t hear them. I know that my long hair and complexion confuse them. Surprisingly I hear(d) them quite well. Sometimes I respond but most of the I just keep quiet.
Worst of is when some lesbians assume that I’m a heterosexual women. Ok, I’m not.

I was raised in the Eastern Cape by my grandmother. My mother worked in Durban as a domestic worker and my father remained in Durban working as a Private Investigator for a private company. I was two months old when my parents separated. I’ve heard that my father was too violent towards my mother and she could not take it and left him.
Later, my uncle told me that racial differences sparked that gender based violence.
He was mixed race himself, born and grew up Qumbu. He was such a jealous man. That’s the men who met his mom at 16 and I met him when I was 9 years old for the first time. You can only imagine what does that do to an only girl child longing for paternal love.
With all that said, my grandmother was there for me throughout. She mother, my father, my all.

I’m grateful to her for all the teachings she taught me. Unfortunately my gran died in 2007 at the age of 100 plus which was a blessing for a black family.
After meeting my father, I was moved to Durban to be with my father and his other children (born by different mothers). It is where I attended coloured school in Wentworth. I was there until I was 17 years old. My father died in 1995, he was murdered.
So all the children were returned to their mothers. My mom came for me as well, who I last saw at the age of 9 when she left and dropped me off at my father’s.
In 1995 my mother was selling second hands clothes and own a shebeen in Philipi,
Cape Town.

I fell pregnant before my 18th birthday. I gave birth to Lynne my only daughter in 1996, Cape Town. I must confess that it was a natural birth with no complications even though my body tender or not matured enough. I was young and a teenager at that time.
I was not raped like how most lesbians would say to shun away from the fact that some of  us do not conceive due sexual assault or have the luxury of artificial insemination and other birthing processes. With that said my sexuality did come from  the point of abuse.
Period!
I’ve been intimate with women before I gave birth to my child and continued thereafter.
Hence, I won’t judge those who want to use the abuse or rape as means of protecting their sexual identities.

Different strokes for different folks. Amen to that!

My child has a father that she met later on in life just like I did with my own father.
Contact between them is not that good because he was not involved in her upbringing and maintenance – papgeld
was
a big issue like some men in South Africa who refuse to take responsibility of their offspring. I had to admit that we were both young and got involve in teenage sex without an understanding of the consequences. I then started working from an early age to support my child. My mother could not assist much because she had her own challenges.
I don’t stop my daughter to be in contact with her father. She has a right to communicate with him. He also knows of his child’s existence. The guy is also fully aware of my lesbianism.

If I remember well my first encounter with same gender love was with my cousin sister who was a year older than me. She is a heterosexual woman with kids, probably do not recall what we did but I remember very well cause that excited me very much.
I will later narrate on how I fell pregnant which is a life story on it own!

Important people I met along the way

In 1996 I met Kali van der Merwe, filmmaker, who trained me in Media Activism and conducted Radio Training. She came to the Onsplek, which was a place of safety for girls in Albertus Str, Cape Town central. Where I lived for two years with my daughter because mother did not accept that I fell pregnant early.
Read more on:  http://www.otherwise.org.za/pages/radioparticip.html

The crew featuring Charmain Carrol (blue dress) and Funeka Soldaat (light yellow polo t-shirt)

The Inkanyiso crew featuring Charmain Carrol (blue dress) and Funeka Soldaat (light yellow polo t-shirt).                            Photo by Zanele Muholi. (2012 Dec. 8, Hector Pietersen Museum at the Iranti – 16 Days of Activism event)

Another person I was lucky to share my life with was Funeka Soldaat, gender activist, who guided and mentored me.
Soldaat is currently involve with Freegender – (http://freegender.wordpress.com)
now, but at that time she was working for Triangle Project.
Not forgetting Gabrielle le Roux, an art activist, who worked for Media Watch.
Le Roux and van der Merwe taught us life skills, media skills and how to conduct interviews and deal with public related projects.

In 1998 I worked for Idol Pictures which was headed by Jack Lewis, filmmaker, producer and director, some of his productions is Siyanqoba/ Beat It!
I did voice over for the Gugu Dlamini, HIV activist who was brutally murdered in December 1998, Durban for disclosing her HIV status.

After that I was later appointed by Media Watch…

In 1999, I represented the gay and lesbian youth at International Lesbian Gay Association  (ILGA) conference held in Johanneburg, on behalf of UManyano, the defunct black lesbian organisation which was based in Khayelitsha.

_____________________________

Read previous activities

Message

My message to the youth is: “Let your voices be heard”.

Charmain Carrol

Charmain with her daughter Lynne recording at a creche (1997)

I was first introduced to Other-Wise in 1996.
I worked with a group of girls from Ons Plek. We did a series of programmes: “Nontlupeko”, “The Break Through Girls” and “The Street Educators”. During that time I learnt how to work with people also finishing what I started. I was very Interested so I carried on the following year to work with Other-Wise (1997). We sat down to write proposals. We each had a copy of the proposal. One day Kali said we were going to see the person who is funding our work but we had already started with the recordings. We went to meet Jean from the Open Society. I was at first scared but when she started speaking I felt at ease.
She is a very nice person and it was a pleasure meeting her.

Idea

The reason why I chose Iintsomi Programme was because I feel that our culture seems to be fading away. Our grannies these days never tell us iintsomi. there are different reasons why some of the grannies don’t tell these stories: some have forgotten them, television also plays a major role today, the family’s spare time these days is spent in the living room in front of the TV.

I want our culture to survive if we communicated better then we would know each other better. What is better than telling iintsomi. The children in those days knew if they go somewhere or next-door they would not steal or do something wrong because they knew there was going to be a punishment, something scary would happen to them. I think if we communicated this way than the rate of street kids would be fewer. Iintsomi are stories told by grandmothers just before bedtime these stories could be things that happened long ago and are told from generation to generation. It is also a form of communication between the whole family.

The training and making of the programme

The training was very interesting and tiring . We had to know exactly what we are working with e.g. the four track mixer we had to know the field recorder when and how to decrease or increase the volume . Getting contacts and phoning the people to make appointments. We also travelled to the Transkei to get some stories   which was fun until the equipment got moist and we could not record for that day, one set back for the day. The transport was terrible we could not go to as much places because off transport the day we were returning from Enxabaxa we had to walk to the main road and still wait an hour for a hike. We did manage to come with our stories .When we sit and talk about the trip to Transkei we can laugh for hours.

Other projects

At this moment I have just passed my matric at cape college. This year I am doing marketing management N4 at the Cape College.   I am also a member of Media Watch.
I also sometimes take the minutes of the meetings that we have and type them out .I joined Media Watch because I am very interested in the representation of women in the media.
I will be interested in taking part in their next course as I missed the last Gender and communication course.

Plans for the future

Charmain recording Iintsomi (children’s tales) with grandmothers at an old age home (1997)

My plans for this year is to do a programme on Gay and Lesbian rights and what the community thinks about them. This will include a radio drama. It’s time they let their voices be heard too. I also plan to pass the course that I am doing in Marketing Management with flying colours. I believe this course and this knowledge that I have about radio productions will take me somewhere some day soon.  My plans for the future also include being the best mother to my daughter Lynne who is 2 years.

My advice to youngsters is if you set your mind to doing something you can do it.
Make it happen!

Another interesting link from previous:

Radio Training

http://www.otherwise.org.za/pages/radio.html

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TO BE CONTINUED…
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6th January 2013: Victory Ministeries Church International (VMCI)

by Charmain Carrol

Durban, KZN. South Africa

1st sermon of the year with Pastor Zenzi Zungu

“God does not judge people based on their sexuality but by their work and what they do”
– Pastor Z. Zungu of VMCI, Durban. South Africa.

Pastor Zenzi Zungu is a lesbian pastor in Durban who has her own church and is married to a beautiful and intelligent wife Magatsheni.  MaGesh as known by most of members of the church, is quite and highly respected. With good dress sense, regarded as the First Lady of the VMCI.

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Pastor Z. Zungu blessing the union of Pinky & Qondi Zulu in December 2012
Photo by Lerato Maduna

Pinky & Qondi Zulu's wedding

Pinky & Qondi Zulu’s wedding
Photo by Lerato Maduna

The church has a majority of LGBTI followers and others. I first met Pastor Zungu in December 2012, Seaview when he married a lesbian couple Qondi and Pinky Zulu. That’s when I got interested in finding out more about the church and the pastor herself.

Like any other given church day in a township in South Africa, the service at the VMCI is fully packed with followers and oozing with faith, spirituality and happiness. The only difference is that at this particular church diversity & gender within gender identities are well pronounced. Most churches have positions and this church is not an exception, there is a pastor, the elders, intsika, Idwala and the praise and worship team (choir). In simple words, Intsika is the butch or masculine members who have been chosen by the pastor and fellow church members.

Idwala is the female identifying or feminine members of the church regardless sex at birth. The praise and worship team is a mix of all ages and gender expression/identities.

When ubaba Pastor Zungu came to the pulpit said “I love this church, my life revolves around this church. Zungu expressed how the church as the house of God should be or become in 2013.
Zungu continued to thank God that we all made it to 2013. As we all fighting battles in our lives, ranging from the battle of backsliding, the battle of relationships, as the holidays are the crucial time when our relationships have problems. For me that showed that Zungu is a force to be reckoned with. Firstly, Zungu stressed that gossip within the church will not be accepted and that the offerings are not for profit as she herself is a teacher by profession. “Me being a priest is a calling and I have been to heterosexual churches but felt the need for LGBTI community to have their own place of worship”. Pastor also mentioned a strong need to close all bachelor parties (as part of the church) hence people drink and do things that will put a bad name to the church.

Zungu began by preaching and the congregants were moved and one could feel the energy and see that the members were being touched by the spiritual words of their leader. Some were going into trances…

I personally would go again to the church.

Check more on VMCI services and work on:
http://www.vmci.org.za

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2013 Feb. 12: Mo(u)rning in the morning

by Charmain Carrol

To pay my last respect to my partner should s/he passes on?

archived photo from Noxolo Nogwaza's funeral which took place in 2011

archived photo from Noxolo Nogwaza’s funeral which took place in 2011

Would I be allowed to honour her life the way that any women would
to her husband.
Yes we are not married,
love is not about one’s status at home affairs,
but the love that we share.
All I know is that I love the human being
and I have welcomed ubaba in my life with that s/he comes with
and that s/he has done the same f me.

I would like to honour ubaba’s life like the man that s/he has been in my life,
with respect and dignity that s/he deserves,
yes I want to be in mo(u)rning.

I want to sit on the mattress and mourn my man.

I want to wash umzimba wendoda yami’s (body) for the last time.
Ngimgeze!
Allow my umnakwethu the right to express her bereavement and shed her fears

Yes,
I want to be the one to dress our lesbian husband up as s/he lays in that coffin.

I want to dress in full black for as long as it takes
ngizile

I am here in the Mo(u)rning.

I have lost a part of me

My partner,
my better half,
my lover,
my companion,
my friend,
my husband…

*** This text is personal. It is a way in which I express my fears in case I lose the love of my life; my lesbian love/r.
Also dedicated to all the femme lesbians out there who once lost their lesbian partners but never gained recognition from  the families of the deceased.
The selfish families/ relatives who claim property of the couple should one passes on due to disease or natural deaths or brutally killed.
Where the death certificate or funeral notices do not even count the next of kin.

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About the author: Charmain Carrol is a lesbian/gender activist, writer, a mother, high femme, sister and mentor to many. She’s been involve in activism for more than 15 yrs.

Posted in 1977 -, Black Lesbians, Black Lesbians & Allies Against Hate Crimes, Evidence, Experience, Expression | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments