Unpacking the privilege of life as a white South African
- Text by Sydelle Willow Smith, Olivia Walton
- Photography by Sydelle Willow Smith
Being a white South African is a perplexing identity to occupy. I was born in 1987 and grew up just as apartheid came to an end. Ever since starting primary school, I have been told that I am a child of the “rainbow nation”, that the advent of democracy means that racial differences would cease to exist.
Yet it’s clear that our relationships in this country remain largely mediated – affected, limited, constrained, corroded, delineated – by race. And there’s certainly no ignoring that the history of imperialism, colonialism and white supremacy on this soil is one of violence and economic exploitation.
A group of overlanders enjoying the pool in the midday sun of the Kalahari Desert.
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