True Love

Man Oh Man – Thami Dish

Thami ‘Dish’ Kotlolo caught the public’s attention when he featured in season 2 of Living The Dream With Somizi, but The Feather Awards co-founder and activist has always been at the forefront of improving and uplifting the lives of LGBTIQ+ people in Sout

- By YAMKELA MDAKA

My biggest achievemen­t this year has been starting the first-ever Global LGBTIQ+ Network conference. It’s something I’d been dreaming of for a long time, and to have completed it successful­ly is a great milestone. Starting something new ten years later was phenomenal, and reminded me of just how scary believing in an idea can sometimes be, but also how rewarding it is at the end.

Putting the conference together was nervewrack­ing, scary and interestin­g. I worked on a budget of zero rands, but believed in my vision. It’s always terrifying to manage something that’s yours. When you’re servicing a client, you’re always working on meeting your targets. When you’re your own target, however, it’s scary. You never know what’s enough, what’s right, what’s wrong and so on. It made me work hard and pushed me to tap into the strengths of other people I work with in LGBTI spaces. We pinned down the real issues we wanted to bring to the fore and found a way forward.

Celebratin­g ten years of The Feather Awards has taught me to silence the noise. If I paid it attention in our first year, we probably never would’ve reached the third year. I learnt to remain firm, to stick to what I believe in and to own my truth. The awards also taught me to acknowledg­e and accept that I may not be of service to everyone, and to find peace in the fact that not everyone’s going to be entirely serviced by what you put out there.

I once sold my house to raise funds for The Feather Awards because I believe in them. And,

in the years when I started doing LGBTIQ+ dialogues in rural communitie­s, it has cost me even more. I don’t get the amount of funding that a lot of people think I do, but I know how to make R500 000 look like R5 million, and I’m not going to apologise for that. I’ve been apologetic before, but realised that I’ve sacrificed way too much for what I believe in, to then apologise for it.

The Thami Dish Foundation dreams of getting more black LGBTIQ+ people into school and grow their interests in industries outside of the arts. I don’t want to ridicule the entertainm­ent industry and fashion space – there’s nothing wrong with the arts. It’s that golden economy that people take for granted, but I believe there’s room for us in other boardrooms. I want to see more gay doctors, lesbian lawyers, trans nurses, bisexual accountant­s and so on. I want to see different kinds of people in various fields.

I’d like to see rural communitie­s in South Africa become more accepting of each other’s unique identities. And they need to be educated more on the different types of human beings that exist. I’d also like to see more united communitie­s that support and build each other.

I have dedicated my life to raising my voice, and making sure my story inspires someone else to be true to who they really are. I want to see a queer community that’s not ashamed to speak or to just be, and for a queer person to not fear walking downtown in their pink hair, orange suit and purple sneakers. The activists we had in the past, and the people we looked up to, didn’t do a handover and there was no succession plan. If I can find somebody else to follow after the things I do, and the things that other people we profile on these platforms do, then I know the future of the queer community is in great hands.

Being on TV this year was fun, but also took away a piece of my freedom. I don’t underestim­ate Somizi [Mhlongo] at all, but I didn’t realise the show was that big. I got exposed to so much — to abusive tweets and demanding people who wanted my attention, even on days when I was feeling off. I’m not new to the television space, but I’ve always worked around it in such a way that I could manage it. Sometimes, it can be uncomforta­ble to know that people only see 5% of your life, but because that’s all they have, that’s all they think you are. But it was fun, and I got to profile some of the work that I do.

I’m kept sane by my mother, my dogs, my siblings and my best friend, who is just magnificen­t. When I feel like I have no idea what’s going on with me, they’re always there to calm me down and keep me still. My Bible, meditation and travelling also keep me sane.

The world needs more love, tolerance, positive energy, support, empathy, compassion and less judgement.

If I were to receive R1 million as a Christmas gift, I’d probably put it towards my foundation and put more LGBTIQ+ people in school. There’s an incredible person I often work with, a trans woman called Ditshego Ditshego – I’d love to see her do her doctorate in journalism.

My prayer for the LGBTIQ+ youth of South Africa is unity. There are so many systems of oppression trying to break us — class, race, body and access divide us as a community. Unfortunat­ely, people have been taught to project those things in a way that creates an uncomforta­ble experience with one other. All of this has to die, for us to work together, love each other and ourselves.

What I know for sure is that if I had waited my entire life to receive external validation, I would never have made it anywhere. I may not be able to service everyone’s expectatio­ns, but if anyone feels under-serviced by the work that I’ve done, then they must do what I did years ago when I felt under-serviced: I started my own platforms.

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