[The madness of Affirmative Action as seen by Black people! Jan]

A FRIEND of mine found herself at the receiving end of an affirmative action programme gone wrong. A university graduate with some experience in the media world, she’d been looking for a job in the communications field in general and broadcast media in particular.

She was called to an interview by one of the broadcasters last week.

When she pitched up, the interviewer was stunned: the woman was black, after all. Unsettled by this, and the fact that the interviewee could speak real deep Zulu if asked to, the interviewer admitted that he had been expecting a white woman with whom he would go through the motions, and then reject.

Now there they were, two black people debating the issue of blackness.

In an attempt to save face, and regain his composure, the interviewer got into confrontational mode: why did my friend have such an unlikely name for a black person? We shall call her Mimi Small (I can’t use her real name; this might prejudice her as she is still on the hunt – but the fictional name does give you an idea). In any case, my friend did admit that even though she is a Zulu – born and bred in the KwaZulu-Natal township of Clermont – there is some “coloured” blood in the family tree, hence the surname.

Then the interviewer took issue with her “white” accent.

As my friend was telling me the story, I interjected: “Serves you right, I told you some time ago that this Model C accent might take you to places, but it certainly might have doors shut in your face, if you come across some pseudo-Africanist mandarins.”

The interviewer then fell into apologetic mode, saying: “You know, my sister, we are an African broadcaster, and it wouldn’t do us any good if we put you on air with this accent of yours. Can’t you, at least, modify it, make it more African?”

At this stage of the retelling of the encounter I was laughing my head off.

Do we now have to be actors, to modify our accents to sound like somebody’s idea of an African accent in order to do our jobs properly?

The interviewer continued: “You see, sister, we are under pressure to ensure that we fulfil the AA mandate. And that means giving opportunities to people with accents that in the past would have disqualified them for this kind of job, African accents. We can’t therefore be seen to be giving opportunities to privileged people like you, people who went to white schools and had a good education.” Or something along those lines.

My friend left the building disappointed. Her next interview was with a senior editor at some trendy magazine.

This time around they did not find fault with her accent, even though they remarked on it. They were more concerned about her name.

“Mimi Small” wouldn’t look good on their pages. Although they are an English-language lifestyle magazine, their readership is black.

Imagine some damsel with the surname of Small telling you how to groom your crinkly African hair, or which make-up kit to use on your Mara Louw-complexioned skin. That would be the height of insolence, wouldn’t it, to have a white person telling you about these things when all she is intimately familiar with are brunettes, blondes and so on.

Except this time around Mimi Small, the writer, would be as black as they come. “Readers of the magazine, of course, wouldn’t be privy to the race of Mimi the writer,” the senior editor said.

Then she cut straight to the chase: “We like your work, we respect your qualifications, but would you consider changing your name to something more African if you want to work for this magazine?”

My friend left the offices almost in tears. She had been asked to change her identity, the way she speaks and relates with the world, in order to get a job she is qualified to do.

I was reminded of apartheid days when white officials at the Bantu Affairs (later Native Affairs) offices would change your name from Stimelasiyashunqas’bhekeMpendle to John, because, firstly, they couldn’t pronounce the bloody thing, and, secondly, because they believed they were imbuing you with a modicum of civilisation by changing your name.

When we defeated apartheid we dedicated ourselves to a non-racial society where all would be equal, where cultures and traditions would be accorded equal respect.

But the anecdote that I have just related does indicate that some bureaucrats have misunderstood the essence of affirmative action. A very basic understanding of the concept tells you that it is meant to empower previously disadvantaged people – blacks, women, the disabled – who, in the vicissitudes of a racist, patriarchal system, were not allowed opportunities in the workplace, or in the sphere of education and training.

But some overzealous bureaucrats seem to be missing the point. We are after all trying to fashion a nonracial society which celebrates the plurality of voices and accents – so why discriminate against Model C’s?

If we start setting precedents such as these, what would stop a chauvinistic Zulu in a position of power from giving preference to applicants who can’t pronounce their r’s? People who would tell you “I ate lice”, when they mean rice?

Source: AllAfrica.Com
URL: http://allafrica.com/stories/200601230254.htm…/p>