In my early teens a girl from South Africa started at my high school. Before her arrival I conjured ideas of a girl who lived in a Savannah with spears and wild elephants and a monkey as a best friend. Of course my lack of knowledge was only bred out of the fact that Australian schools were incapable of teaching children what was in fact happening in other countries. My small view of the world was not helped by the fact that I hadn't travelled further than Budgewoi.
The new girl was stunning and absolutely nothing like I had imagined a girl from South Africa to be. She wore makeup and she had an amazing hairstyle. She knew all the latest fashion trends and music and wherever she went she made everyone else seem positively boring. Unlike anything I could have imagined she was just like me. She loved boys and being a teenager and food and fun and of course boys, boys, boys, just like me. She had an older brother just like me, and she laughed and was a teenager just like me. I only ever saw her as equal and I never understood how any one could ever be prejudice to a girl that was just like me. Skin color or not we were the same. Just teenage girls that's all. I immediately enjoyed her company and loved hearing stories about where she had come from. The place I thought she had come from sounded awful and scary and I thanked my lucky stars that she had been spared and had come to my school to be my friend in the safety and acceptance which was Australia.
I was fortunate because my friend heightened my awareness of South Africa and I read everything I could to learn more. I was in awe of Nelson Mandela in my late teens and I wished so hard for him to be free and to help his country. When he was released from jail I along with the rest of the world cried as he walked free. It was a momentous occasion and one which I will never forget. I truly believed that the world was changing. The Berlin Wall had collapsed and now Nelson Mandela was free. Amazing!
In 1994 I listened to the radio all day to hear the election results from South Africa as they were broadcast. I was enthralled to hear of the lines of people that extended for kilometers in every direction in order that everyone who wanted to could vote. After all the blood that had been shed finally the country was being pieced back together and her broken wings now may be healed to fly once again. When I heard the announcement that Nelson Mandela had won the election I cried.
Nelson Mandela has taught many people a great deal but for me oddly he taught me the value of having the right to vote. In Australia we sneer at politics and largely do not hold sacred the right to vote. As an 18 year old I didn't enroll to vote because I didn't care about politics or who would run the country. After the election in South Africa I realised that I had been wrong. I felt shameful that I had so flippantly ignored a right that others had died trying to obtain. I was lucky enough to live in a country where as a woman I could vote and where the colour of my skin or my convictions didn't matter. I was free to vote. From that moment on I determined no matter what the political atmosphere I would educate myself about the candidates before me and vote. I now hold voting as sacred it is a human right that every person should be afforded.
Nelson Mandela taught us all that we are equal. I felt I already believed that but until you have had something taken away from you that is a basic human right then you really don't understand equality at all.
I admired my friend from South Africa so very much, I still do. She is strong and beautiful and I'm glad that I met her because she showed me that no matter how different we are we are the same.
