Coloured folk stuck in culture of violence, says comedian
All kinds of forces set coloured communities on a course of bravado, brinkmanship and violence
DURBAN comedian Carvin Goldstone took to Facebook and described the murder of Montreal King during a music festival in Durban as “coloured bravado”, meaning coloureds are fearful of being seen as pushovers and were stuck in a culture of violence.
The 19-year-old King, of Newlands East, was stabbed to death during the annual East Coast Radio Durban Day event at People’s Park next to the Moses Mabhida Stadium early this month.
“I call it coloured bravado! I’ve seen it on the school playground and in boardrooms. It’s the feeling that because we are coloured we must never back down from a fight. I’m coloured and I don’t take s***!” he wrote.
His post went viral with more than 725 shares and more than 200 likes on Facebook by last night. He said through his first-hand experience of growing up in Newlands East and playing gangster games, he knew that coloured youth were embroiled in a violent culture.
“From my own experience, I can liken growing up in the coloured community to almost like what you see in prison movies, where you show your strength, choose your side or become someone’s bitch!” he said.
He described the lifestyle as “knife-edge” and “a fearful existence” for soft-natured people like himself.
The “bravado life” was not only limited to young boys, as young girls would act or appreciate violence in order to look tough, he said.
He called it a ticking time bomb waiting to explode “at home, school and the workplace”.
In some coloured homes, he said, violent and defensive behaviour was encouraged by fathers who did not want their sons to be pushovers.
This had robbed coloured people of respect and they had been feared and isolated by other communities.
He said he only realised how violent coloured communities in Durban were when he visited England 15 years ago.
“I couldn’t believe the polite nature of the people, so much that I mistook it for a display of weakness,” he said.
Although he and his family had since moved out of Newlands East, he still had close relatives in the area and Wentworth.
He was concerned that his son would not know how to react to attacks if he visited.
He called on coloured youth to move away from violence and focus on education.
IHAVEN’T said anything about the tragic killing of the teenager Montreal “Monty” King from Newlands East. And no one has asked me, so I feel no external obligation to say anything.
But I do feel an internal obligation and I have something to say.
I’ve been silent because I felt his family needed time to mourn his death and bury him without too much analysis of why coloured people in South Africa and Durban find themselves in a never-ending cycle of killing each other.
You may know me for my comedy show, No Swearing, so I will mind my language in this piece as I attempt to drive home some ideas and points in a very brash and at times vulgar way.
I found a lot, not all, of the reporting and comments on Monty’s murder in the media irresponsible.
Some simply reduced it to a community versus community matter. Others played up the youth need help angle and one or two even blamed the ANC.
What I found even more troubling was that some members of these communities were hoodwinked into buying into this media concoction that turf war is the root of the problem.
Now that’s not to say that it wasn’t a factor, but I want to separate the fiction from the reality and get to the fundamentals of why we are burying our teenagers.
When trying to analyse and understand the factors that led to the death of Monty King and countless other young people over the years, there’s a bigger concern for me than “district politics”.
If anything, district politics is symptomatic of this deeper-lying problem in our communities. I call it coloured bravado. It manifests itself at the lowest and highest levels of coloured life.
I’ve seen it on the school playground and in boardrooms.
It’s the feeling that because we are coloured, we must not back down from a fight. I’m coloured and I don’t take s***! I’m not a sny! Don’t vat me! You don’t know me! I’ll make you swak! You don’t see me! You don’t fundela my chups! Bruinous are the mainous! Don’t f*** with me, I’m coloured! I will steek you! With line! I’m going to make you rak vol!
It played itself out in front of thousands of people at the biggest outdoor event in Durban, East Coast Radio’s Durban Day.
For Indian, white and black people living in KZN, it was a disturbing window into a reality of Durban’s coloured community.
Many people are still traumatised by what they saw. Even many coloured people who’d forgotten what coloured bravado looks like at its worst.
Be tough or get f***** up! In public!
Having lived in Newlands East for 26 years of my life, I know first hand that growing up in the coloured community can be a harrowing experience. A fearful existence, particularly for soft-natured people like myself and maybe even more so for those on the front line of coloured bravado. It’s a knife edge. Say the wrong thing, look at someone the wrong way, step on someone’s shoe and it could be curtains for you.
In 1999, I watched a guy get stabbed outside Xanadu nightclub for just that – stepping on someone’s shoe.
From my own experience, I can liken growing up in the coloured community to almost like what you see in prison movies, where you show your strength, choose your side or become someone’s bitch.
Now this is a generalisation and there are exceptions, but it’s the general community I’m trying to address here.
Coloured boys and even girls feel the need to be tough.
As a result, many of us interact with each other in an aggressive, abrasive and short-tempered manner.
We have become ticking time bombs at home, school and in the workplace.
This would have been an unfair description of my community for me to accept 15 years ago.
But after travelling across the world I now feel it’s not.
I wasn’t even aware of our aggressive nature until I took my first trip overseas to England 15 years ago.
I couldn’t believe the polite nature of the people, so much so that I mistook it for a display of weakness.
Because, after all, coloured bravado has most people in Durban treating coloured people with a sort of fearful respect because of the reputation.
I think this submissive demeanour many adopt when interacting with coloured people will only be magnified after Durban Day.
But I don’t want to just blast coloured bravado without exploring why it exists.
The coloured community here behave similarly to many minority communities around the world.
Low education and literacy levels, forced removals and relocations, congested living conditions, drugs, poverty and starvation are key factors.
Having no vested interest in society and not being highly regarded by other races in the country has forced us to find another way to earn respect.
And it has come at a high cost. Young lives. What is worse is that it has not earned us respect at all.
Instead, it has created fear and panic and further alienated many of us from society. And for the most part, we’ve taken our fight inside. We fighting for respect on the home front against the home front.
It seems to “them” as if we just hate each other, and killing each other is how we express that hate. But that’s not true. It’s not hate. It’s insecurity. We are insecure about who we are and where we are going and our place in community and country.
We feel trapped and vulnerable. A rat won’t attack you, but corner it, and watch it fight back.
Coloured bravado is an expression of our uncertainty and anxiety about ourselves.
So what’s the solution? The coloured community needs a new identity in South Africa, but importantly within its own community. It starts with each and every parent.
Do your children say things like, “my mother don’t take s***” when they’re in trouble at school?
Have we shown our children that we sort out our problems with violence?
Do we applaud people when they tell someone off ?
Do we glory in how “I put him in his place?”
Do we tell our children, “Don’t be a coward, don’t carry tales, hit her!”
Do we tell our children to “fight if someone interferes with you”? I know I have. My son is only 6.
What sort of generation do we expect to raise if we show them that you respond to oppression with aggression? Twelve years from now, will I be the one burying my son who was killed at Durban Day because I taught him to stand up and hit back, not knowing the other kid’s parent has also instilled in him the same idea?
We will both finish off in tears. Or will we just continue, like me, to see moving to suburbs or Australia or Johannesburg as the only way out? The community as a whole, at home and abroad has a joint responsibility. We have had a devastating setback with the loss of Monty in the most violent and brutal way.
We’ve also lost more young men implicated in his murder.
I feel for their families. If losing a child is a parent’s worst nightmare, then discovering your child is implicated in a murder has to be a close second.
We don’t set out to raise murderers. We have allowed a culture that does to take root in our communities. And the cycle goes on, generation after generation.
Most of us are trying our best to raise respectable kids, but not all our kids have respectable parents.
Introspection time. I started with me. And found I fell short. I need to instil in my own son a confidence that is far removed from coloured bravado.
A sense of self that says who he is will be determined by how hard he works in life and how he strives for the greater good of all South Africans, but in particular coloured people.
To find his place in society, have a vested interest in the economy and politics of South Africa.
I'm not going anywhere and many of you aren’t either.
We all have a duty. Monty’s death can be a catalyst for good or evil.
Some have already begun scheming how to turn it for evil.
Let’s turn the tide before we all drown in our own tears.