“Coloureds have no culture” is a statement I have often heard over the years. Not only from other racial groups, but from many coloured people themselves.
I used to feel really conflicted about this, because it felt like the truth. And yet it also felt like an insult.
Last week on Heritage Day, some coloured youngsters embraced one of the many stereotypes and posted images of themselves in pyjamas and gowns on social media.
I even spotted the occasional comment referring to Friday night drinking binges and women lounging around with rollers in their hair.
Naturally this reignited the perennial debate around coloured identity, with many people taking offence at the portrayal.
So what exactly is coloured culture that can be proudly celebrated on future heritage days, and is there even one universal definition that we can all agree on?
The short answer is no. But the longer answer is a lot more interesting, because within the “no” lies a diversity that in itself defines what it means to be coloured.
But before we get there, let’s get the official dictionary understanding out of the way and deal with some sensitive issues.
Social behaviour is part of what defines culture, and some of that can be rather embarrassing. It’s how stereotypes come about.
If enough people from a certain group do something in a certain way, then it is a cultural stereotype that isn’t necessarily negative.
The fact that gangsterism is most prevalent in coloured communities is an observable truth that we cannot escape.
We absolutely should deal with it and reverse the stereotype, rather than get offended at it being mentioned by others.
Culture also refers to the way of life that has become the norm for a group.
For example, having warm koesiesters with a cup of tea before church on a Sunday morning, supplied by a local Muslim aunty, is a stereotype that developed because it’s part of our traditions.
We have dozens of different customs that are passed down from the myriad of ancestries that flows through the veins of the Cape Flats.
We have taken all this beauty and woven it into one multi-coloured tapestry, creating a unique culture that we all can easily identify as exclusively ours.
Donuts exist in other parts of the world, but nowhere else is it made and eaten in the way koesiesters are enjoyed here.
We have taken the very best of our blended ancestry and made it our own.
But culture also draws on a group’s unique arts and capabilities.
And within this definition lies our future heritage, because this is an aspect of our potential that remains largely untapped.
Whether you call us coloured, mixed, Mulatto or Creole, the fact is we are able to excel at seamlessly straddling many different cultures at once.
And if you don’t believe me, take the best-kept secret of coloured excellence as an example.
Our first two governors, Simon van der Stel and his son Willem can be credited – at least in part, and for better or worse – with having industrialised Cape Town by establishing the wine industry.
Simon’s maternal grandmother was a Malay woman, making him, by modern standards, a coloured man.
It was such an explosive fact that the apartheid government understandably made sure we never knew it.
Malay and Dutch, together with the inventiveness inherent in our Nguni bloodlines, is exactly the sort of industriousness that is engraved in our DNA and that courses through our veins.
It’s dangerous knowledge in the best possible way, because it is anecdotal proof that progress and possibly even racial superiority lies in gene diversity, not gene purity, as the apartheid regime wanted us to believe.
This is part of the heritage that makes us who we are.
And when we look around us, it often fascinates me how coloured people can be speaking higher grade corporate English in Constantia in the morning, and whip out our ghetto tongues the moment we step into the taxi in the afternoon.
We go home and cook a European meal that has been pimped with Asian spices, while using Khoisan words.
Being cultural chameleons is our superpower the world over.
And this gives us a cultural identity that is uniquely ours, to own with pride, pyjamas and all.