Mark Mathabane Challenges Students To Change World With "Power of One"

Additional Links:
Upper School Students React to Mathabane's Message
Students Explore South African Arts in Honor of Mathabane's Visit
Students Must Hassle with Passes for a Day

Author Mark Mathabane, center, with Middle School librarian Kay Daniel, left, and
Upper School librarian Anne Howson, right, who arranged his talks as this year's
Visiting Author. They spoke together in the Upper School Art Gallery against
the backdrop of a Ndebele mural and ceramic drums. They were created by visual
arts student in anticipation of Mathabane's visit as part of their exploration of
African culture.

He ascended the auditorium stage and took a seat on the tinselly set of Grease, but as he began to speak, another, even more vivid incongruity became apparent: this neatly dressed, eloquent man whose softspoken voice carried the melodic rhythms of his native South Africa was the survivor of a childhood so brutal and degrading that it was almost unspeakable.

Yet his message was one of turning from hate and changing the world through "the power of one."

Kaffir Boy, Mark Mathabane's first book, has been on the CCES junior summer reading list for the past two years, and younger students throughout the Upper and Middle Schools had read excerpts, engaged in explorations of South African apartheid, and participated in a variety of activities in preparation for the author's special visit.

But even though students were familiar with his story, many were unprepared for the power of his words. One student, who had the privilege of sharing dinner with Mr. Mathabane as Mrs. Howson's guest, came away from the experience not only inspired but determined "to be a better person."

Having spoken first at the Middle School chapel (where it is said that students were so riveted by his words that a pin could be heard to drop in the auditorium -- quite a feat for middle schoolers!), Mathabane began his second lecture of the morning by referring to his earlier reception. "When you talk to middle school students, they get you all charged up," he said, "and you just can't resist them."

But his message to the school's older students was more serious.

"To you I can only bring what I believe is the most urgent task of our time and ask you to truly ponder the role you have to play in its fulfillment. This school represents to me one of the oases around the country where I truly believe that young people with caring hearts, who feel what we are going through as humanity, prepare to take on the responsibility to change our world into a better place."

He was talking about the challenge of leadership, a challenge this school sets before its students on so many levels, but rarely so dramatically as during Mr. Mathabane's talks.

"I will start with my own story," he said, "and tell you that you must believe in the Power of One." He described being born destitute, living in a shack and scavenging for food among the garbage dumps of Alexandra, one of the worst black shantytowns in apartheid South Africa. He talked about facing brutal police raids and such hunger and injustice that he contemplated suicide at the age of 10.

"Yet I was able to rise above all that because of one person, my mother," he said. It was his mother who not only fought to provide him with an education, a monumentally difficult challenge for blacks living in Alexandra, but who also taught him to "unlearn hatred."

"What gave this woman her indomitable, indestructible strength?" he asked. "Love."

"You must believe in the Power of One. If you are imbued with love, you can move mountains, you can make a difference." He cited great men and women from history who exhibited this "Power of One" and subsequently changed the world: Moses, Socrates, Jesus, Martin Luther, Rosa Parks, Mother Theresa. Yet he did not seem to feel that such company was too rarefied for our students.

"Fortify your lives with conscience, conviction, and courage, and you will feel that power too," he said.

"To be human is to be connected to others. It is to feel their pain and to do something to alleviate it.

"I know that some people have been telling you that after 9/11 people are so different, and our differences are so unreconcilable that we're doomed to inflict or suffer pain, to hate or be hated, to oppress or be oppressed, to kill or be killed, all in the name of selfish survival.

"Do not for a moment believe such cynics," he counseled.

"Believe, brother, that we are mirrors of each other. Believe, brother, as John Donne said, that no man is an island. Believe, brother, as Chief Seattle said, that we are all strands in the web of humanity. And believe, brother, as Africans believe, that we all share the same ubuntu, and that you are not human until you acknowledge and affirm the humanity of other people.

"No one can be free until we are all free. No one can be safe, least of all secure, until there is justice for all. No one can lay claim to being human until there is a humane world for all to live in."

At this point he appealed directly to the students.

"That is why I come before you with this plea. See that you are here to find your true purpose in life. Not the purpose, as the poets say, of getting, spending, and laying waste your powers, not the purpose of going up this greasy pole of materialism at the cost of your soul--no, a nobler purpose.

"Not even the purpose dictated by your parents' expectations, nor even what is merited by your talents and hard work.

"No, your true purpose is what your soul perceives as it sees things in the light of eternity. Your purpose should be dictated by truth." Using the analogy of looking at the earth from outer space, he pointed out that from that vantage we do not see the boundaries of nations, the differences between black and white, Christian and Muslim.

"That is why I hope you will use your sojourn here to acquire the power to make a difference."

He urged students to take the opportunity to learn another language. How can we help to remake the Middle East, he asked, if we cannot speak the language of the people there?

He called on students "to broaden your minds and deepen your sensibilities, to truly take advantage of the fact that you live in a world and go to a school where people are different.

"Work on those differences. Be comfortable with being uncomfortable, rather than always seeking the familiar, which allows into complacency and ends up transforming you, not into that brave mariner ready to follow knowledge, as Tennyson says, 'like a sinking star to the utmost bound of human thought,' but rather, you become like the lotus-eater, complacent, indifferent, self-absorbed.

"But your destiny must be different.

"You must do something to justify being this lucky! Because you are among the chosen. You are here, at Christ Episcopal...You could be in other places where the streets are mean, where there are few second chances, where the rites of passage are gangs and teenage motherhood.

"But you are here, surrounded by all this opportunity, challenged every day by inspiring teachers, loved by your parents, who sacrifice to give you this opportunity.

"So what should be the noble purpose that will be able to draw you out of self, that will make you realize that life can be lived heroically?"

His answer was simple, almost startling: love.

"Learn to love yourself, to love your families, to love your country, love what you do, have passion for what you do, love nature, and above all, love humanity...Let love be the lodestar to a purposeful life, because with love you can make a difference."

When a student asked what advice he could give to help them, the leaders of tomorrow, to overcome hatred, he responded by urging the students to "start with yourselves. One thing that helped me tremendously was when I looked at my own life."

Next, he urged students to be an example to others and not to fear being alone.

"You also need to think: you should not readily accept what others tell you, particularly when they force on you this 'authority thing.'"

Alluding to terrorism around the world, he added, "The hatred, the loathing that a large measure of this world has for America is breathtaking."

"I hope," he said, addressing the students directly, "that you will return us to our strength, for when America stands for justice, truth, and right, we are unassailable."

"It is up to you," he concluded, "and to your generation to make this a better place, a place where the flames of hatred no longer blind us to the loveliness of each different human face, a place where the din of war no longer deafens us to the symphony of our diverse cultures, a place where the anodyne of materialism no longer deadens our hearts to cries for justice from the poor and the powerless.

"This is your charge, and I know that with your talent and your energy and your faith and your perseverance that you will fulfill it nobly, and that I will be able to say that I had the inestimable, priceless pleasure of addressing on this day the true benefactors of humankind."

Mark Mathabane is the author of five books: Kaffir Boy, about growing up in apartheid South Africa; Kaffir Boy in America, like its predecessor, a national bestseller; Love in Black & White, about interracial love and relationships; African Women, about the lives of three generations of women in his family; and Miriam's Song, the story of his sister's coming of age during the last days of apartheid. To learn more about Mathabane, log onto his website at www.mathabane.com.

Following his inspirational talk, Mr. Mathabane patiently signed copies of his books for more than an hour, as he engaged in conversation with many of the students who requested his autograph. He proved himself a thoughtful listener, interested in the students' comments, and one who generously offered his thoughts and advice to all who wished to be touched by his greatness.

Mr. Mathabane's visit to CCES was certainly a rare privilege. But it was more too.

It was a profound challenge, one that echoes still in the ears of every student here:

What will you make of your life?