My dad was a Brigadier in the South African Prison Services, and one of his last assignments was to look after political prisoners at Pollsmoor prison. But I will leave my dad for another day. Both my sisters worked at the prison services and married guys who worked at the prison services. And my brother worked for the prison services on Robben Island - where Nelson Mandela was jailed.
I grew up in a home that did everything the Apartheid government wanted us to do. We were part of the Dutch Reformed Church - the Apartheid government in prayer. We watched rugby - then the sport of the white Afrikaner. I went to school at Paarl Gymnasium - one of the best Apartheid schools in South Africa. I attended the University of Stellenbosch - the 'brain trust' of the Apartheid policies and politics. We read the Apartheid government approved newspapers and watched their TV. I benefited from the education they provided and the money they paid my dad. I was made for a life supporting and working for the Apartheid government.
I was well on my way to become one of them. I did everything they expected me to do. I was a young racist Afrikaner, ready to take my place in their world. Well, at least the small world within the white community in South Africa.
Somewhere along the line things didn't work out the way they planned. I became everything that Apartheid was against - an activist with a social conscience who loves being an 'African' on the global stage. Instead of being the man they wanted me to be, I became the man I wanted to be. It hasn't always been easy. It hasn't always been fun. But it always felt right. From Stellenbosch to Seattle, Mali to Monterrey, and Lusaka to London - no matter where the road took me, it always felt right, and it always felt as if I belonged.
That's the beauty of life - you can be who and what you want to be no matter where you come from.
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