Looking in the Mirror

Spiritual Revelations for those seeking Humanity in Humans ~~CordieB.

Archive for african

OK, perhaps I’m prejustice about some things, but I’m working on it!

©2008 ~motherwarxx


Normally, I stick to poetry or art, but every so often, I write an opinion/article.  I had planned on writing a quasi-xrated poem today, but this morning after reading Angry African’s post on racism , I decided to speak out.  So, blame AA for my writhing this post instead of the quasi-xrated poem I intended to woo you with today.  In his post, AA admitted that he was a racist at one time, and didn’t even realize it.  I prefer to use the word prejustice in AA’s situation, rather than racist.  I think there is a difference . . . He gave us a scenario of how he passed up one hitchhiker without a second thought due their color, and thought about picking up another, because it was, perhaps, "a preferred color."   AA did not say which color he preferred.  I assumed when I first read this article that he gave more thought to picking up the white passenger than so the black passenger because AA is a white male.  But after further reflection, I really don’t know, because he is also an activitist who may have felt more passion towards a black man than a white.  I don’t know.  I hope he never tells.  The point is, racism is racism.  Why is it that he felt compelled to pick up one more so than the other based solely on the color of their skin?  AA challenged us to look at ourselves and admit to our own racisms.  This is something that we do not communicate about in mixed race situations.   Perhaps it is not PC to do so; perhaps we feel that we will offend someone.  But unless we look our actions and our thought patterns then the cycle of racism will continue.  Unless we selfexamine, we will not be compelled to eradiate these ignorant thoughts.  So I said to self, "Self, how am I racist." 


Racist Act No. One.   I don’t consider myself to be racist, but I suppose I have preferences based upon color.  Is that racist?  I prefer relationships with black men; I’ve never been attracted to white men.  Does that make me a racist?  Perhaps yes.  Because, truth be told, I’ve never ever considered trying such because of what’s been handed down to me by society, family and friends.  Oh, I’m perfectly acceptable of others in mixed race relationships; I have many friends who are married to people of a different race.  But me personally, I have never even given such a second thought.  Period. 


Racist Act No. Two.   Now here is another form of racism I have, similar to that of AA’s maybe, maybe not.  I’m walking down a dark street.  On one side of the street are two white men in business suits, on the other are two black men with hoodies and baggy jeans.  As a black female, which group would I feel more comfortable walking past?  Answer – The white men in business suits.  Crazy huh?  Racists huh?  True though.  This is due to what I’ve learned; what I see,  what I’m told by the media, not what I experience.  My thought pattern has nothing whatsoever to do with the people themselves; as I don’t even know these people.  I’ve never been mugged, I’ve never been raped.  I usually walk past either without any interaction whatsoever.  So what has given me this ignorant fear that I’d rather past two white men in business suits than two black men in hoodies and jeans.  It’s simply ignorant.  And, I have to consciously stop this train of ignorant thinking; because I’m passing on this bull to my daughters and sons, either consciously or unconsciously!   A recent study showed that black women would prefer to pass individuals on the street by race and gender in this order – (1) black female (2) white female (3) white male (4) black male.  The black male is last in the pecking order, even by the black female.  Don’t you find that somewhat disturbing.   I feel the same way, yet it is very, very disturbing.  What have I allowed to sink into my head?  What fears have manifested into my belief system?  Wow! 


The Irony of it All.   Now even though I would not  give a white male a second look in the prospect of marriage, I  would rather pass him than a black male   on a dark street!  Ain’t that ignorant!  Think about it! 


Peace, Light and Love . . . CordieB. 


P.S. Don’t tell anyone, but I thought that Angry African was a black man for weeks when I first started reading his blog – why?– Because he’s an Angry African Activitst!.  I’d stereotyped him too.  One day I looked up and I saw those beautiful piercing green eyes in the header and it was then that I looked deeper into what he was.  Not that it should make a difference, right?  Racism is pure ignorance!  We need to check ourselves!

Who are the Sarah (Saartjie) Baartman’s of Today?

A, from Cuvier; B, from Friedenthal; click here to see the whole picture and other information on external genitalia scientific research for which Sarah was used, after her life as a “dancer” fizzzled out.

Who are the Saartjie Baartman’s of Today?
Poem written by Cordieb on November 8th, 2007

Who are the Saaartjie Baartman’s of Today?
Young woman and girls thinking it’s all o.k.;
To shake, break, and use there bodies to “make a way.”

Before they know it, they’re all used up;
There mind and spirit are all abused up;
They are tossed aside like last night’s trash;
Completely burned up like a cigarette ash;

We must reach out to the Sarah wannabee’s;
Before it’s too late and destiny seizes;
Their brilliant smiles and will to live;
We must teach to them, preach to them, reach out to them;
….and be willing to give.

We must give them our time, our love and support;
We must give them our trust, and yield not to fall short;
We must tell them true beauty lies not in there asses;
Because they are genuine gems like true diamond facets.

Remind them to think like royalty and reach for a star;
To carry themselves like the queens that they are.
We must protect our young women and girls from the evil and wrath;
That can steal their hearts, body, and soul, and leave hollow carcasses in death.

Don’t Let Ms. Baartman’s life and death be all in vain
Remember the story and tell it again and again…….

For more information on the life and death of Sarah Baartman, please visit my other blog page at https://cordieb.wordpress.com/2007/10/30/who-is-saartjie-sarah-baartman/

Who is Saartjie (Sarah) Baartman?

Sarah Bartman Skelatal
Photograph courtesty of  ” Mail and Guardian On-Line, Article Entitled, “Fetching Saartjie.”

Saartjie (Sarah) Baartman was born on the Gamtoos River in the Eastern Cape in 1789 of a Khoisan family in what is now known as South Africa.  British ship’s doctor William Dunlop persuaded her to travel with him to England by prominsing her a great fortune if she visited Europe and exhibited herself.   I’m sure Saartjie had no idea of her ill fate as she stepped on board, on her own free will, a ship for London. 

It is said that the first time Saartjie Baartman was dragged out to squat before the mob at 225 Piccadilly, the show’s promoters billed her genitals as resembling the skin that hangs from a turkey’s throat.  For several years, working-class Londoners crowded in to shout vulgarities at the protruding buttocks and large vulva of the unfortunate woman made famous across Europe as the “Hottentot Venus”.  The aristocracy were no less fascinated at what they saw as a sexual freak, but they had private showings.  

She spent four years in London, then moved to Paris, where she continued her degrading round of shows and exhibitions. In Paris she attracted the attention of French scientists, in particular Georges Cuvier.

Soon the Parisians tired of the Baartman show.  It is alleged that she was forced to turn to prostitution and that she became penniless and succumbed to alcolism.  Her body was unable to become acclimatised to the cold weather; her spirit could not endure the cruel culture; and Saartjie’s mind, body and soul could no longer endure further abuse.  Saartjie died in 1815 at the tender age of 25.

Sarah’s death was as ill-fated as her life.   She was carved up by Napoleon’s surgeon, who made a cast of her body, pickled her genitals and brain, and put her skeleton on display in a museum.

Some 160 years later they were still on display, but were finally removed from public view in 1974.  In 1994, former South African president Nelson Mandela requested that her remains be brought home.

Other pleas were made, but it took the French government eight years to pass a bill – apparently worded so as to prevent other countries from claiming the return of their stolen treasures – to allow their small piece of “scientific curiosity” to be returned to South Africa.

In 2002, Sarah Baartman’s remains were finally returned. 

Photo Courtesy of Washington Post

“The story of Sarah Baartman is the story of the African people,” President Thabo Mbeki said at the funeral. “It is the story of the loss of our ancient freedom … It is the story of our reduction to the state of objects who could be owned, used and discarded by others.”

May Miss Baartman finally rest in peace.  

Who are the Sarah Baartman’s of Today, a poem written by Cordieb

For a detailed story of Saartjie Baartman’s life, listen to Anchor Marco Werman’s interview with Rachel Holmes, author of the book, “African Queen: The Real Life of the Hottentot Venus.”

Listen to the interview and the story

Diana Ferrus, of Khoisan descent, wrote “A poem for Sarah Baartman” while studying in Utrecht, Holland, in 1998.   It is widely believed that Ferrus’ poem played a major part in the return of Sarah’s remains.  Ferrus said, “One evening I was looking at the stars and I thought to myself, ‘They’re so far away. But if I were home, I’d be able to touch every one of them.’ My heart just went out to Sarah, and I thought, ‘Oh, god, she died of heartbreak, she longed for her country. What did she feel?’ That’s why the first line of the poem was ‘I’ve come to take you home.’

“I’ve come to take you home –
home, remember the veld?
the lush green grass beneath the big oak trees
the air is cool there and the sun does not burn.
I have made your bed at the foot of the hill,
your blankets are covered in buchu and mint,
the proteas stand in yellow and white
and the water in the stream chuckle sing-songs
as it hobbles along over little stones.
I have come to wrench you away –
away from the poking eyes
of the man-made monster
who lives in the dark
with his clutches of imperialism
who dissects your body bit by bit
who likens your soul to that of Satan
and declares himself the ultimate god!
I have come to soothe your heavy heart
I offer my bosom to your weary soul
I will cover your face with the palms of my hands
I will run my lips over lines in your neck
I will feast my eyes on the beauty of you
and I will sing for you
for I have come to bring you peace.
I have come to take you home
where the ancient mountains shout your name.
I have made your bed at the foot of the hill,
your blankets are covered in buchu and mint,
the proteas stand in yellow and white –
I have come to take you home
where I will sing for you
for you have brought me peace.”
Diana Ferrus, “A poem for Sarah Baartman”


  • A French print
  • Guardian article on the return of her remains
  • South Africa government site about her, including Diana Ferrus’s pivotal poem
  • A documentary film called The Life and Times of Sara Baartman by Zola Maseko
  • http://www.heretical.com/miscella/baker4.html
  • http://www.artsci.wustl.edu/~anthro/courses/306/Sarah%20Burial.html
  • Other Links: