The other morning, whilst checking out at a local grocer, I noticed a man wearing a T-shirt. He and his partner were queuing immediately behind me. I sensed that he had become aware that I had noticed his T-shirt. I tried to catch his eye. On my second attempt our eyes locked. He looked complacent.
“I like your T-shirt”, I said.
He smiled, immediately aware of what bonded us, even as strangers.
“You’re brave to wear that in Hillcrest”, I added.
“Especially on a Sunday morning”, his partner quipped.
I laughed.
After paying the cashier I turned back to wish them well.
His T-shirt had sported the text “Ruined by Religion”. How refreshing it was to stumble across strangers with a common outlook on life – a rare event in the heart of Kwa-Zulu Natal, the Bible Belt of South Africa.
I felt inspired to join them, to challenge the groupthink that persists in our young democracy. If he can, surely I can. What stops me? Is it a fear of offending? No. I am not an offensive person and back myself to sensitively manage any discussion wearing such a T-shirt might induce.
I think it’s that I fear for my children. I fear that my local, god-fearing community would ostracize them because of their father’s views.
How sad? Perhaps I shouldn’t care. Perhaps my children need to learn to swim against the tide of ignorance that pervades our country and our world even in 2015.
Teenage Daydream 