Life not easy for pupil who broke the mould
“I HAD to prove myself to be worthy from the outset . . . [but] what I didn’t like was that I would be called to speak English in my English accent and everyone would be impressed.”
The constant pressure to prove himself worthy of being among white pupils at a school that was exclusively white and to adapt to the ways of his peers were just some of the things Zuko Lincks had to contend with when he became Redhouse Primary School’s first black pupil in 1991.
Lincks, 28, whose family were the first people of colour to move to the small Redhouse riverside community that year, said despite his excitement at being allowed into the school and community, there was also the unsavoury part of being different from all those around him.
“I noticed my friends’ parents were uncomfortable with the black child visiting. I guess they were still adapting,” he said.
“My parents made sure I was well spoken and English was our home language at the time and my good English accent really made my stay easier. I came across pupils who would be nasty racially, but also found that most of the older children actually stood up for me.”
But Lincks, who went on to attend Grey High School, did not like how he was shown off as the black pupil who spoke perfect English.
“I think I ended up being the school mascot in a way.”
He said when the school faced closure in 1992, his parents fought to keep it open and lobbied black parents to send their children there.
“I was thrown in at the deep end and just had to hold my head high and paddle hard,” he said. “When the school got more black pupils I was actually seen as white by the black children because of my accent and I also felt white because I felt I was part of them by then.”
He remembered being stopped “every 100 metres” by white neighbours asking him what he was doing in their streets.
His thoughts on the last 20 years are that the country has a great leadership vacuum and that black people have lost focus.
“The drive and hunger for the success of the nation and [a] brotherhood has died out,” he said.
“We used to believe in God and in each other, but now we believe in money and power. It concerns me a lot that we, as black people, are only seen as ‘quota’ and not reinforcement. I believe we are quickly losing character by not realising [our] strong potential.”