Growing Up - Foreign

Recently I was sitting with a group of my friends and discussing the poignant topic of culture. I listened to them, speaking about who they were from a cultural standpoint, understanding and knowing their roots and feeling deep connections within their ancestry. It was at this point that I decided to write a piece about my own experience with that poignant topic - culture. 

My parents arrived from Yugoslavia in the early 90s, escaping civil war and attempting to settle in the recently (legally) liberated South Africa. After leaving Yugoslavia (now Serbia), they learnt a new language and adapted to new cultural norms and practices. Then I was born. 

My first language was Serbian but at the age of three, I learned English at my private primary school, which in the eyes of many, is the most basic form of privilege (I agree, it was). It was at this point that my cultural identity began to morph into a sort of hybrid, half-South African, half-Serbian.

Throughout my early years, I never really related to any of my friends when they spoke about family gatherings on Sundays or even the simple fact that their parents knew the Afrikaans language. My family was living in Serbia and my parents did not speak Afrikaans. I felt strange, knowing this yet still not fully understanding the nature of my feelings. 

My parents are wonderful people who always put me first. In doing so, we stopped speaking Serbian at home and English was now our primary language. When I meet Serbian people nowadays, they often remark how strange my accent is and how the gaps in my language are deplorable. When I speak to my fellow South Africans, they often ask me where I am from. I was born in Sandton, South Africa but clearly this does not reflect in who I am. 

I often say to myself, I am too South African to be Serbian and to Serbian to be South African. I find home and comfort in neither because I feel separate from both identities. 

Speaking to my own grandparents is difficult, my Eastern European side has practically been depleted from my memory, I speak with a broken language that I can say breaks their heart whenever I utter any words. Yet, I am often told by the people I grew up with, "Oh Mila is Serbian!". 

No, Mila is not. I am not Serbian, I cannot honestly call myself that, I have no cultural roots to that country besides my family. I am not South African, I have no roots here besides my memories of the past. 

It is hard getting by, convincing yourself that you are a citizen of the world when you know in your heart that you are not. It's strange how I feel like an immigrant, in the country of my birth. It's strange how I feel like an immigrant, in the country of my origin. 

These are not often stories that get told but I am glad that I told my experience on this blog today, maybe this will encourage other people to understand how I feel and understand the way that I am. 

As they say in Serbian, "Nema veze, ti si moya zvezda". 

- Mila Brkic 

Racism Is Not Dead

An ideology remains alive long after it is illegalised. Legislation does not cure people of their prejudice and truth and reconciliation does not breed forgiveness and consciousness. 

Is that a difficult concept for people to understand? Is it so unearthingly hard for folks to realise that centuries of hatred and oppression do not disappear after a day of democracy? 

Nor should it, quite frankly. It seems as though recognition and discussion has become more fuelled by white guilt than it has by any serious societal adjustment. Let's put this into context: 

1.  Germany post-Hitler 
2. South Africa post-Apartheid
3. America post-Jim Crow Laws 

With regards to Germany, Nazism was outlawed after the end of the war and Germany launched educational reforms in order to discuss the genocide occurring at the hands of the Nazis and their allies. Yet, today, in 2017, people are seen brandishing Nazi flags in protest of refugees. In spite of the entire country trying to move forward and recognise the cruelty of the people living in that country, in spite of the Nazis being charged with war crimes and put on trial - these prejudiced motherfuckers still exist and they continue their lives with their disgusting hate fuelled ideas. 

In South Africa, when Apartheid was outlawed and Nelson Mandela was elected as the first democratically elected President of this new South Africa, some people believed that it was all over. With the help of Desmond Tutu, the Truth & Reconcilliation Comission was set up, it involved people of colour and white people discussing their pain that occurred throughout the apartheid era. It was designed to be a noble attempt at moving forward. Instead, it was turned into a government program that focused more on white guilt than it did on the institutions of discrimination built up over centuries. Today, even though our constitution is sovereign and inclusive and that apartheid is no longer in place, there is a continued systemic oppression of people of colour. Yet, white people believe it's all over and reject that white privilege exists. 

America was de-segregated in the 1960s. From the 1960s, white folk have been silencing black stories because they believe that's it's all over and that suddenly years of pain, oppression and suffering would diminish to exist and that black people would simply, "move on". Yet, police forces still kill unarmed people of colour and black people are still screwed over by the justice system, as if civil rights were never won at all. As previously mentioned, legislation does not cure prejudice. 

I end this post by repeating this notion, legislation does not change ideology. Outlawing racism does not end racism. And the sooner white people stop crying their white tears and acknowledge their privilege, the sooner we can create a free and equal society. 

-Mila Brkic 

*note - yes, I know "not all white people", go fuck yourself :)