The kiss

when I was 10 I moved with my father to South Africa, Natal Province, from Rhodesia. I had grown up until that time with servants and a nanny who were Ndebele people And adults. So when we in South Africa the only servant I came in contact with was a lovely big, sweet, Zulu woman by the name of Betty. She was hired by my Aunt where we were renting a room from in her apartment. Except for her working as the cleaning maid, I had no contact with her. One day must have been have bring your daughter to work day, because she showed up to the apartment to work like normal, with her 10 or 9 year old daughter in tow. And I ended up playing with her all day. She spoke good English, was educated at the same level as me, was intelligent, and was fun and very sweet. We got along well. At the end of her mom’s shift, they got ready to leave, and when we were alone the girl planted a kiss on my lips. It was innocent, nonsexual, just a sweet display of joy and friendship. But I wasn’t expecting it, had never kissed a girl or been kissed by a girl, and I was shocked and embarrassed. I was totally unprepared for that kiss. I reared back, and backed away. A look of dismay appeared on her face. I left the room, not saying anything. Betty and the girl left to go home for the night, and I never saw her daughter again. I never knew her name. If I did know it, I have forgotten it.

for years I have thought about that kiss, and the entire incident. It was much more complicated than just a kiss between me and her. In my mind I was worried that it was between me a white boy and her a black girl. I was worried that I was being a racist, and that she would think of me as being racist. As I grew up and was a bit older, the racist worry left me, because I wasn’t a racist, didn’t treat blacks different than whites, but what bothered me was what she thought about the incident and how I reacted. Did she think I was a racist? Did that incident color her perception of whites going forward, was she hurt by my reaction? Betty never treated me differently, so maybe the girl never said anything to her, maybe she didn’t think anything was racist about my reaction, maybe it was just me overthinking the situation. For years I wished I could meet her again and discuss it with her, and be friends again. I wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, but just a friendship. But I never saw her again. Hopefully, she did not think anything about it, and did not have any bad feelings about boys or men, or race issues. South Africa was going through hard times during that time for blacks, with apartheid legislation. I’m 65 years old at this writing and I still think about it. I no longer worry about it, I haven’t for years, but I still think about it and wonder what happened to that sweet, innocent girl. Does she think about the incident, does she think she did something wrong and I think bad of her? Or am I just overthinking the entire episode and it left her mind immediately and never affected her. But maybe I became a better person because of that kiss and by my overthinking my reaction. I guess I will never know.