So there I was, being interviewed on live TV regarding the Qwelane saga, grilled by Jeremy Maggs in his distinct interview style. When I got out, an Establishment Activist had written a rather sour post on Facebook, probably forgetting that we were Facebook friends. I do need to review my Facebook friends list I thought...
I sat in my car, still having to drive back home pondering the comment: "how DID that irritating person end up speaking on behalf of the SA queer community? Cringe!" (I edited out the gratuitous exclamation marks but I think you get the message)
I did not realise I was that omnipotent and that when I speak; I speak for about ten per cent of the population! Gosh, it is flattering and all, but no dear, I spoke as representative of the Amateur Organisation I devoted three years of my life to. Nevertheless, flattery will get you everywhere as I always say. My, but this was precious. I think Athol Trollip would appreciate and understand, you know, his less-than-polite email about the Freedom Front Plus was accidentally sent to the Freedom Front Plus; with full media coverage. Ouch! Foot in Mouth Disease.
The Establishment Activist deleted his acerbic comment and rationalised that it was a very foolish move on the part of my Amateur Organisation. Apparently, we should have gotten a lesbian to speak, and preferably a "black" lesbian. Hmmm... Get me our token black lesbian stat!
Just so the general public know: the media doesn't give notice in advance for such interviews. It happens as the news unfolds, quick and no fuss. I was working away at my day job the day thereafter when a journalist did a telephonic interview with me. Luckily, I wore my headset permanently. Journalists like to pounce on people when they least expect it.
Back to the softened criticism... I would have seen it as an utter slap in the face if I were that elusive black lesbian and I would only be used for window dressing and being a slave to a puppet master. That is what you call condescending. I can only imagine how that Tuesday would have played out had we a window dressing spokeswoman. I would have phoned my fellow board member, drafted a statement and answers to possible questions. Then for the hard part. The token lesbian.
Of course, it may not be a black lesbian from the suburbs with a model-C accent. We would not want a Lindiwe Mazibuko, you see, otherwise Blade Nzimande would call her a Coconut and Juju would refuse to debate with the Madam's Tea Lady. It had to be real.
By this time I would have been frenetic, you see, we could not find the real makoya that day, so we had to opt for a gay male with a very annoying voice. So I rushed all over town to buy butch jeans and a flannel shirt, yeah, the people wanted diesel-dyke meets township lesbian, so I also stolen a ZCC lapel logo and stuck it on.
I had to be the fake township lesbian. I could not quite pull it off. I could not be condescending and arrive on set in my flannel shirt and ZCC logo, it would have been contrary to everything I believe in. It would have been incendiary in its bigotry. Therefore, I arrived on set dressed as me... Something missing yeah, I feel you baby.