Reflections On Race In America

I moved from South Africa to America a few years after Nelson Mandela was released from prison. For the five years preceding his release, I led a musical community that fused praise and protest, serving as ambassadors from the church in our political ‘struggle’. Worship and justice was not a slogan, it was my life.

God had turned my heart upside down in a time of worship at my local church in 1985, on the fourteenth day of a twenty one day fast. It was like all the spotlights of heaven pointed at me and I heard the irresistible beckoning: “Who will I send? Who will go for me?". I know that I had to rise up and play my part in championing justice in an heinously unjust system. But before I event had a chance to get going, he spoke again, on the final day of that fast, giving me insight that South Africa would change in 1990, and that I would need to move to the US then in preparation for a future ‘praise-and-protest’ project that I would pioneer later in my life, for which my work in Soul Africa would serve as a practice run. He went on to say that I would live in America when it was more dangerous to live in America than South Africa, and that my involvement in South Africa's movement of transformation would serve as preparation for a role he wanted me to play, later in life - that of a father and a mentor to a younger generation who would prophesy into the world in a time of international crisis. (See the blog "Merging Two Parallel Movements").

I did not hear an audible voice, but it was exceedingly apparent that God was speaking. It has been fascinating to see history unfolding. In February 1990, Nelson Mandela was released from prison, all political parties were unbanned, and all political prisoners were set free. I moved to the US a few years later.

It has felt, increasingly, like I moved from South Africa to South Africa, excepting, in my old South Africa, we knew we had a problem. Legislated racism meant that there was no place to hide. Prejudice was out in the open. Similarly, the preservation of white privilege was also out in the open. It required honesty and humility to contemplate the domino effect. Long story short, learning to get into someone else' shoes was vital for survival.

In my new South Africa, we live in denial. Well, let's put it this way, an embarrassingly large percentage of white people have not given much time to think about the ripple effect of the preservation of white privilege. Learning to get a view of the lay of the land from someone's else's vantage point is not something highly prized.

The events of these past few years are causing everything to be brought out into the open.

The time is ripe for God to grab the attention of a number of his people and begin speaking to them about becoming agents of healing and transformation.

Malcolm du Plessis