This is a difficult post to write. It is one that has been brewing in my mind for some time. It’s intention is not to level criticism at anybody or to cause offense. But I feel that there are some difficult questions that need to be asked about the way that black women are represented by the craft industry in South Africa, and even internationally. The central question is this: ‘Are we portraying true pictures of who our black collegues are, or are we painting the picture that outsiders want to see?’.

When Beloved Beadwork began, we had some tough decisions to make. We knew that as black women producing beadwork, and with a white woman as the owner/manager, we would be portrayed as a ‘project’ involved in ‘job creation’ to help ‘disadvantaged women’. In the pages of design magazines we would be treated as a special case, in a feel good section all of our own away from the ‘real’ designers. Did we want people to see us that way? Many of us had been forced to sing from that hymm book for years. But was it who we really were? How long would we be seen that way? And if a white man did the same work, would it be called ‘empowerment’, or would it suddenly become ‘high art’.

What emerged was a strong conviction that we would forge a new path. A concrete list of words was drawn up that we would never use to describe ourselves or one another. Illnesses would not be disclosed, people’s employment histories would not be public knowledge, descriptions of our personal lives would not be dominated by our tragedies or by who our dependents are. And more importantly, we would present ourselves as the norm. Because (with the exception of the strange Brit writing this!) that is exactly what we are, normal. Being a black woman in South Africa is normal, not a special case.

This approach has had it’s pitfalls. At times we have known that our sales figures would be better if we used the buzzwords that people expected; vulnerable, HIV positive, disabled, mothers, job creation. We have shied away from publicity, fearing we would be typecast in such a way. We have come across as argumentative or rude because we don’t conform to people’s expectations. We’ve refused to participate in videos or photographs where black ‘crafters’ are patted on the head and called a ‘good girl’ by a white ‘designer’. When people walk into our studio and say how nice it is that I am teaching ‘them’, when people greet us grown women as ‘girls’ or ‘mamas’ or ‘Anna’s ladies’, it hurts that little bit more because we have acknowledged that it hurts. And we’ve missed out on much needed funding for fear of damaging our pride and image.

But the benefits have been wonderful. We take enormous pride in our work, and when it sells we know that it does so because it is good, not because we are selling part of our pride with it. We feel that our work is better for it. When we meet together, we can share the truths of our lives without fear that it will be fodder for publicity. After two years, Laurence and I have finally learnt the body language we need in order to show that she is in charge of the shop, not me. And finally, now, we feel able to start talking about our decision.

So let me set the record straight. We are a team of fourteen individuals. No two people in our staff team are alike. Each member of my staff is employed because she is good at what she does, and because she has something to offer the company. We face lots of individual battles. Some of them define us at times. Other battles, whilst perceived as huge by the outside world, we take in our stride. We face the same difficulties and joys faced by women all over the world, rich and poor. We argue, we have widely divergent views of the world we live in. Some of us have lots of kids, others have none. Some of us have strict, purist Christian ideas of the world, others take a synchrotist approach to faith, others are ambivalent about the idea of God. Some of us are married, some divorced, some single. We are not part of a single ‘community’ but come from a variety of backgrounds and communities. Some of us are right wing, some of us left, but all of us have opinions. Some of us have post-graduate diplomas, others completed our education at primary school. But most importantly, few of our team are quiet, deferent, sweet women who have a naive view of the world. And most of us believe the South African economy is in need of major, meaningful transformation.

I hope to write on this further. It’s taken me two years to get this far, so bare with me. But I do think it’s time that the Cape Town design sector took a good look at itself, and re-examined the impact that our portrayals of black women have on their identities and on the prospects for our sector’s transformation.