Aunty Mary b. 1931

The smiling face on the right belongs to my Aunty Mary (circa 1950) showing us how to make your wimple into the regulation-shape of a laundry tub. Clearly, she thinks it’s a lark. Professed as a Dominican of King Williams Town (in the far reaches of the red dust of the Eastern Cape, South Africa), it didn’t take her long to convince the powers-that-be in the Catholic Church to allow her to roam veil-free. It makes no sense to dress up like that, she explained, it frightens little children, plus it’s very inconvenient for playing tennis. My aunt had no time for mindless rule-following. Her actions were unwavering in their commitment to only one directive: to love one another as she believed her mother/father/creator God had loved her. In defiance of apartheid’s rules, she was at the forefront of opening whites-only schools to Black pupils, firmly explaining to those who didn’t share her revolutionary rule-breaking – even Black children need an education, you know. At the end of her life, she was still pushing the limits, educating young inner city Johannesburg children of all races and nationalities, striving to heal the wounds of disillusioning urban poverty and xenophobic violence. As a fighter, she never gave up hope.