Race and Legacy: Conversation between Jimmy Carter's Grandson and Nelson Mandela's Granddaughter
This past Monday one of the ladies at the Southeastern Council of Foundations (and consequently one of my mentors--I have roughly 7 bosses! ) invited me to an event hosted by the National Black Arts Festival held here in Atlanta. She informed me that Jimmy Carter's grandson, Jason Carter, and Nelson Mandela's granddaughter, Princess Zaziwe Dlamini Manaway, would be discussing living in the shadow of their renowned grandparents and confronting issues of race in South Africa.
The theme for this year's National Black Arts Festival involves drawing comparisons between the American South and South Africa in artwork, performance, history, race relations, literature, and various other aspects of life and culture. (Read more by clicking here, if you'd like)
Anyhow, Ms. Francis and I trekked a short way to GA State's Student Center to learn from these notable personalities' grandkids. I must say I had my doubts as to how informative the session would be, as these were clearly not Nelson Mandela and Jimmy Carter themselves, but mere descendents.
I am now properly ashamed of my judgementality.
Unfortunately Princess Manaway was unable to join us (she was home celebrating her grandfather's 80th birthday, I believe, but she is currently a Coca-Cola Scholar and goes to school here in Georgia!). A vivacious woman with blonde hair, a fire-engine red suit and matching lipstick spoke for a few moments on her behalf--she was by far one of the best public relations officials I have ever seen in action. She talked a mile-a-minute but clearly and with a smile, had everyone laughing along softly and quietly expressing sympathy at the appropriate times, taught us a few words in Zulu informatively yet humbly ("ubuntu" was the only one that caught my attention--friends of mine use that computer server whose name means togetherness/community), and basically made us feel like we'd met the Princess and fulfilled every life goal. Incredible.
After her performance, the "conversation" session transitioned into an interview with Mr. Carter.
His story was fascinating! He was raised in Georgia, heavily influenced by his parents and grandparents to serve in philanthropy, and after completing his undergraduate years at Duke University decided to join the Peace Corps and work in South Africa. The stories he told had everyone in the crowd murmuring in awe and support. Mr. Carter and Corps coworkers lived in a very underdeveloped village, carrying water from the river daily, and yet they were three-and-a-half hours from an Internet cafe where he communicated with friends and family.
He spoke at length on the newness of being a minority, the solitary white male in over twenty square miles. In the United States racism is often discussed at length in thinktanks and forums, but he said it was possible for him at times to forget it. In South Africa, however, he was continually, constantly conscious of his race as villages poked his white skin to see if it would rub off and asked questions about his features.
As a fellow white student possessing of the opportunity to travel to South Africa, his words absolutely clarified a number of questions I'd stored up. First, is it possible for a white person to help out?
His response: as a white male, his effect in the community was significantly different than the accomplishments of African-American fellow Peace Corps volunteers. The South African communities have been living with legislated apartheid and bantu training so long as to have adopted the mindset that they need outside help, whether white or foreign or from big cities, to improve. Mr. Carter says that he was trying to make the point that these people could utilize their resources more effectively and pull themselves up, and they interpreted it as yes, they could do so, but only as long as this white man was here telling them they could.
Mr. Carter found the apartheid mindset to be practically ubiquitous. He told stories of white men pulling their cars over to solicitously inquire if he, a white man in the midst of fifty black friends, was ok all alone. Imagine that: a caring man who actually stops to see if someone is alright but cannot understand how a white man could feel comfortable surrounded by other people of a different color!
That was very disheartening to hear. Perspectives are the hardest things to change, in my opinion. What changes could I really effect while in South Africa?
However, his other stories of acceptance, the rich oral traditions, religious experiences and the wild beauty of the area really have encouraged me to consider South Africa as the stronger international summer choice.
Afterwards, I introduced myself as a Duke student possibly gearing up for South Africa a year from now--he asked me what I would be doing, and I felt rather idiotic and half-baked for saying I didn't know. He did appreciate that I told him he had answered some questions though not all would be answered until I got off the plane and lived there for a time.
Back to the abbreviated Idiot's Guide to Atlanta
The theme for this year's National Black Arts Festival involves drawing comparisons between the American South and South Africa in artwork, performance, history, race relations, literature, and various other aspects of life and culture. (Read more by clicking here, if you'd like)
Anyhow, Ms. Francis and I trekked a short way to GA State's Student Center to learn from these notable personalities' grandkids. I must say I had my doubts as to how informative the session would be, as these were clearly not Nelson Mandela and Jimmy Carter themselves, but mere descendents.
I am now properly ashamed of my judgementality.
Unfortunately Princess Manaway was unable to join us (she was home celebrating her grandfather's 80th birthday, I believe, but she is currently a Coca-Cola Scholar and goes to school here in Georgia!). A vivacious woman with blonde hair, a fire-engine red suit and matching lipstick spoke for a few moments on her behalf--she was by far one of the best public relations officials I have ever seen in action. She talked a mile-a-minute but clearly and with a smile, had everyone laughing along softly and quietly expressing sympathy at the appropriate times, taught us a few words in Zulu informatively yet humbly ("ubuntu" was the only one that caught my attention--friends of mine use that computer server whose name means togetherness/community), and basically made us feel like we'd met the Princess and fulfilled every life goal. Incredible.
After her performance, the "conversation" session transitioned into an interview with Mr. Carter.
His story was fascinating! He was raised in Georgia, heavily influenced by his parents and grandparents to serve in philanthropy, and after completing his undergraduate years at Duke University decided to join the Peace Corps and work in South Africa. The stories he told had everyone in the crowd murmuring in awe and support. Mr. Carter and Corps coworkers lived in a very underdeveloped village, carrying water from the river daily, and yet they were three-and-a-half hours from an Internet cafe where he communicated with friends and family.
He spoke at length on the newness of being a minority, the solitary white male in over twenty square miles. In the United States racism is often discussed at length in thinktanks and forums, but he said it was possible for him at times to forget it. In South Africa, however, he was continually, constantly conscious of his race as villages poked his white skin to see if it would rub off and asked questions about his features.
As a fellow white student possessing of the opportunity to travel to South Africa, his words absolutely clarified a number of questions I'd stored up. First, is it possible for a white person to help out?
His response: as a white male, his effect in the community was significantly different than the accomplishments of African-American fellow Peace Corps volunteers. The South African communities have been living with legislated apartheid and bantu training so long as to have adopted the mindset that they need outside help, whether white or foreign or from big cities, to improve. Mr. Carter says that he was trying to make the point that these people could utilize their resources more effectively and pull themselves up, and they interpreted it as yes, they could do so, but only as long as this white man was here telling them they could.
Mr. Carter found the apartheid mindset to be practically ubiquitous. He told stories of white men pulling their cars over to solicitously inquire if he, a white man in the midst of fifty black friends, was ok all alone. Imagine that: a caring man who actually stops to see if someone is alright but cannot understand how a white man could feel comfortable surrounded by other people of a different color!
That was very disheartening to hear. Perspectives are the hardest things to change, in my opinion. What changes could I really effect while in South Africa?
However, his other stories of acceptance, the rich oral traditions, religious experiences and the wild beauty of the area really have encouraged me to consider South Africa as the stronger international summer choice.
Afterwards, I introduced myself as a Duke student possibly gearing up for South Africa a year from now--he asked me what I would be doing, and I felt rather idiotic and half-baked for saying I didn't know. He did appreciate that I told him he had answered some questions though not all would be answered until I got off the plane and lived there for a time.
Back to the abbreviated Idiot's Guide to Atlanta
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11:42 AM
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