Each year at my middle school, the 8th-grade class would take a week-long trip to explore Washington, DC. It felt like an iconic event: an experience the younger kids would look forward to and older kids would wear like a badge of pride. My trip, however, was sullied.
We boarded the bus from New York to DC. With my silly and playful pre-adolescent energy, I lifted myself from the seat and turned around to chat with my friend Sara in the row behind me. Then I snapped her bra strap.
I, not fully understanding her reaction, laughed. I…
Originally delivered to the 2017 graduating class of the African Leadership Academy.
A couple of years ago, I attended a braai at friend’s place. As some tended to the fire and others lingered in the kitchen, I found myself in the living room with a handful of others and an adorable five-year-old girl, Jamie. Jamie asked her father if they could play the “Master and Slave Game.” The title of the “game” immediately piqued my interest and I observed it unfold. Essentially, Jamie (the master) would command her father (the slave) to do something, and the father would do it.
Educator. Motswana and pan-Africanist.