By Lynn Norwood
April, 2006
It has been an interesting few weeks for me, jumping continents, crossing the equator, flipping seasons, skipping over so many time zones I lost track of….well everything, date, time, my own name. But “re-entry” has been interesting though a little disorienting as well. I heard no news from the States while I was gone and fully expected things to be pretty much the same as when I left. I was only gone for two weeks after all, and what could possibly happen in that time?
I have, time and time again, wondered about my meager contributions to the political process; the true effectiveness of spending hours in little plastic chairs at meetings with like-minded people, sending emails and letters, doorbelling, phoning, marching in parades, or talking to anyone who is not tired of hearing about the none-too-favorable issues of the day, and I admit there is always for me a lingering doubt. Are we just spinning our wheels? Does any of it really matter?
In my seriously jet-lagged brain-fog I was unable to get much reading done and decided to slide into the news via the entertaining (but amazingly informative) comedy of Jon Stewart’s “The Daily Show”. My husband recorded a few of the episodes I’d missed and I settled down to some light television in an attempt to keep awake, hoping to reset my seriously disoriented circadian rhythm, when what did I see but Tom Delay’s resignation! Awake now, I surfed the web and tried to take it all in. Was that the loud roar of retired generals on national news demanding Rumsfield’s resignation? Even Scott McClellan can’t take it anymore!
In preparation for my trip to South Africa I read several books on the history of apartheid. I was in awe of what Nelson Mandela, Robert Sobukwe, Sol Plaatje (founder of the African National Congress) and others were able to accomplish in their lifetimes and how far the country had progressed in the twelve short years since they’d won their march to freedom.
I was so excited about seeing the meeting halls and offices where some of this magic took place, where three hundred years of oppression was eroded one person at a time, until the system collapsed and a new country began to emerge.
Our tour guide in the township was a very proud Botswanan who recounted the history of the anti-apartheid movement and displayed the modest memorials and monuments with pride. The movement really started here, he told us as we walked through the dusty township north of Kimberly in the heat of the mid-day sun. He proudly pointed out Sobukwe’s office/house, a run-down building with chicken wire screens, plastered with disintegrating election signs and peeling paint. We will have the money to preserve this as a proper memorial someday, he said. We then crossed the unpaved street to a small community center with its painted rock memorial garden where Nelson Mandela and others met with members of the nascent African National Congress.
We were lucky enough to gain access to the Northern Cape Legislature since they were not in session at the time of our visit. Everything in the design and layout of the building and its surrounding grounds was created to make all of the people represented, from humble villagers to well-educated city dwellers, feel welcome.
What an uphill task they still face after winning their freedom! There are upwards of four political parties represented during most sessions (there are many more factions with minor followings). There are more than eleven languages. There are multiple racial, class, and cultural divisions that span traditional villages, shanty towns, and cities as cosmopolitan as San Francisco. They have the added challenge of a sorely uneducated people, high unemployment, and a high incidence of violent crime; South Africa has the highest rate of murder and rape in the world. And yet the people we met were so hopeful and proud of their accomplishments it was hard to imagine failure.
As I stood in the room that Mandela used for his meetings, sat in the little plastic chairs in the community center, with its poor acoustics and peeling paint, I imagined the members of the ANC discussing the issues of the day and deciding on the course they should take. And I realized how much we take for granted.
Changes are taking place. We do make a difference. That difference may be slow and unrecognizable day to day but progress is being made. Darcy Burner’s campaign for congress in the 8th CD has taken flight, the 45th LD has a strong candidate in Eric Oemig for state legislator, and Tom Delay actually resigned!
As I re-entered my own world, settled down to the business at hand, I was humbled by the idea that, as bad as things have gotten under the current administration—in our country, in our time, with our freedoms and education, there is nothing we can’t accomplish if we simply keep on trying.