|
|
|
|
Submitting your story
While your story can be of any length, ideally it should not exceed four typed pages (1.5 spacing). What will happen to the story I submit? The stories will be placed on the website under a different name, unless you would like your actual name attached to it. The researchers working on the project will collect and examine the stories. Their examinations could be published in journal articles, books and on various websites. All the stories will eventually be stored or archived electronically and will be available to the public. Who will know that I wrote the story? The information that you provide as part of your submission with be anonymised. In other words, your narrative will be included in our database under a pseudonym and in a manner that will make it impossible for you to be identified, unless you specifically state that you would like your name attached to your story and provide us with those details. Can I request my story back? You can request your back by emailing one of the researchers. However, in so doing, the researchers will know who you are, but they will not share who wrote which story with anybody. Who can I contact? If you have any questions about the project, please send an email to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or phone +27 11 717 4524
What others have writtenWhat it all meant I was eight years of age when I started hearing about them, again and again; around the fireplaces, at school, and on the local radio stations. "Abargrogrisi/abanqolobi! [the terrorists] They've jumped the Lesotho borders and are threatening our peace... more A Road Trip with a DIFFERENCEMy earliest recollection of the conscious imprint of race as a form of difference dates back to when I was about six-years old. Upon reflection, I am sure that race and the segregation of apartheid had impacted on me prior to this in many insidious ways, but this is one of the most significant memories... more I RememberAs on other occasions that I'd had no control over, my prepubescent anger threatened to overwhelm me and soon we were furiously raining fists on each other. And then somewhere in the midst of the litany of swearing in Xhosa and beating, I uttered the words I most regret... more The many colours of madnessI was born and raised in Cape Town by parents who were not overtly political. In 1948, my father, a very dark skinned, kinky haired man, classified as Malay was married by Moslem rights to my mother who was classified as white. The awareness... more A time of awarenessDuring my teenage years, I was deeply involved in the youth work of a local church in Cape Town. The minister of the church, and his family, exposed the congregation to 'life in South Africa' through sermons (the minister), and through a very vibrant youth club... more |









