René Roberts

If you’re extremely lucky you’ll cross paths with an individual. Being an individual means being a person of a specified kind. Google says so, so we know it has to be true. An individual celebrates the fact that he or she is unique. One of a kind. Someone that refuses to follow blindly. Someone that doesn’t conform. Someone that’s not restrained by society and its great expectations.

I’m hugely privileged to have someone like that in my life. My niece is such an individual. She’s always been different and we knew this because at a very early age she started rebelling against society. She was that kid on the bus that gave up her seat so that the less fortunate little boy dressed in rags could sit comfortably. She was that kid that scorned the “cool” kids for making fun of those that didn’t fit the mold. Her circle of friends is a true reflection of this beautiful country we live in, because she truly does not see colour. She celebrates Halloween despite the fact that she gets ostracised for being different. She’s a proud vegetarian and she reads Edgar Allan Poe.

At the age of seventeen, she’s accomplished what most of us never will. She’s at peace with herself.

You would think that loving thy neighbour as thyself would be brilliant advice, but maybe that’s the problem. How can we love our neighbour when we haven’t even mastered the art of loving ourselves? We’re constantly finding ways to better ourselves. We substitute a homely hearty meal for a shake because we want to be thinner. We spend ridiculous amounts of cash to have facial hair removed with laser and we count calories every waking minute of the day. We bleach areas of our bodies that should never be seen and we get Brazilian blow waves. Why? Because we’re not happy with ourselves.

So, if we’re advised to love our neighbour as much as we love ourselves, it’s no surprise to see people setting each other alight because of their origin. It’s no surprise to see people looting shops of foreign owners and attacking defenceless mothers and babies.

My niece recently told me how she got verbally assaulted for not joining a mass bunk at school. She broke away from the crowd and had to cross the school grounds all by herself, while insults were being flung at her. Why didn’t she join the mass bunk? It seemed the easier option to me. She didn’t do it, because she didn’t believe it was right. Simple as that. That’s why I’m not worried about her going off to varsity next year. That woman can stand her ground.

Luckily, I share some traits with her.

We recently treated my brother to a live show. Pieter Dirk Uys celebrated his 70^th year by performing a pick a box live show. He had nineteen boxes on the stage and inside those boxes were some of the characters that he’d created over the span of thirty-five one man shows he’d performed over the years. He would select people from the audience to pick a box and he would then perform a short snippet detailing that character. How did he select people from the audience? He would call out for all the first timers to put their hands up and then he’d select one of them. Then he would call out for all teachers to put their hands up and select one of them. Every time he called out, you would see lots of hands shoot up in the air, waving around, begging to be picked.

Until he asked for all the proud gay people in the audience to put their hands up.

Three hands.

His own.

An older man in front of me.

And me.

I knew there were so many more of us present. I was flanked by two of them. Only three of us were bold enough. Really?

Have we really not come a little further than that?

My own girlfriend was probably torn between ducking to the floor and moving a few seats to the left. My brother has been out and proud for over twenty years and yet he made it look like he was accompanying the dykes? Can someone please come and get his badge, his flag and his David Hasselhoff poster?

You can’t dish out what you don’t have. To truly love, accept and tolerate others, you’ll need to love, accept and tolerate yourself first. You owe it to yourself. The fact is that you’ll never ever escape yourself, so you might as well love yourself. Whenever you turn around, there you’ll be. That and load shedding is the only thing you can count on.

I say forget about loving thy neighbour as thyself.

Love your neighbour as much as you want to be loved.