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The
Player Queens
Story
and pictures by Carl Collison
 When
Ishmael Maistry arrived at Reiger Park Technical School he
was the only openly gay pupil at the school. Fellow pupils
loathed his arrogance and teachers were wary of his openness.
"It's been hard in Reiger Park. My mother died HIV positive,
I have never met my father and life at the orphanage was hell.
These things, however, taught me to stand up for myself and
to be a survivor. I'm glad for having had these experiences."
It was while attending the school that he met up with Tony
Morris and Fred Nobin. Together the three formed a bond that
seemed to allow them a bit of freedom from the everyday struggles
of life at the school, in the brutal streets, their respective
homes - and in their heads. Realisation of their strength
came soon after. However,
the more they vocalised this new-found strength, the more
the pressure from teachers and other pupils grew.
The Player Queens was what they became known as. Three boys
who "rocked the school and especially the other boys. That's
where the name comes from - we could get any boy we set our
sights on. Sometimes we'd walk up to a girl and tell her how
we were gonna get her boyfriend. Initially they would dismiss
us, but soon they saw that we could achieve exactly what we
set out to do. They then started calling us The Player Queens."
The
pride the young Ishmael shows at relaying these stories is
immediately apparent. And with good reason too. It's been
a rough ride for these young men. During one lunch break Tony
entered the boy's toilet, only to be followed by three other
boys. A tirade of verbal abuse ensued and he was stripped
of all his clothes in order for the assailants to ascertain
his 'real sex'. Ishmael, having searched for Tony, found him
lying naked on the cold toilet floor. "No-one cared really,"
continues Ishmael. "The principal called a meeting with the
Student Representative Council as well as the Parent Teachers
Association and they dished out this really flimsy punishment
- cleaning up the school for one week - which they [the bashers]
didn't even carry out. That really hurt us."
By
this time the trio had come to hear of an organisation that
fought for the rights of gay and lesbian South Africans.
They decided to visit the National Coalition for Gay and Lesbian
Equality, as it was known then, for advice on how best to
deal with these kinds of situations. A representative, Paddy
Nhlapo, was sent to the school and proposed a forum in which
to discuss issues surrounding homosexuality. "Of course this
didn't work out either. Our teachers were just far too homophobic.
The strange thing is that pupils started coming up to me asking
me all these questions about being gay. I gave them the best
advice I could and left it at that. But before I knew it,
all these pupils and I were taking mini-bus taxis practically
every Friday into Yeoville (a Johannesburg suburb) to visit
the Coalition for more information and a bit of added support."
This
Pied Piper-type scenario could have something to do with the
fact that as head-boy of the school, pupils felt they could
trust him with their stories. The growing number of openly
gay and lesbian pupils, however, started to bother the conservative
element of the school's staff. They were not alone in their
concern for the 'depleting moral values' at the school. Many
of the female pupils felt the Player Queens - and their ever-increasing
number of followers - were affecting their romantic relationships
adversely: rumours (mostly true) of gay boys luring hetero
boys off the straight and narrow upset the school's
pious 'majority'.
After
much deliberation on the issue it was decided the only viable
solution would be to build separate toilets for the practitioners
of the abominable practice. 'She/Male' read the neatly designed
sign on the newly built toilets. Met with a mixture of curiosity,
amusement and disgust, these loos soon became the focal point
of a different discussion at Reiger Park Technical School.
Now host to just under fifty openly gay boys and girls within
its previously 'unsoiled' walls, it became more than just
an issue of three seemingly frivolous boys getting their rocks
off in a less than appropriate space. Now it became blatantly
obvious to all concerned that "this homosexual issue" ran
much deeper. And it was its depth that was causing division.
A division which became all too clear when a few pupils and
the school's two guidance teachers appeared on a popular local
educational television programme, Take Five. The topic: Freedom
of Sexuality.
The
entire programme though, revolved around the school and the
growing number of gay and lesbian pupils. One teacher, Mrs.
Solomon, openly blamed Ishmael for the spread of "this gay
disease". Claiming that before  he
registered as a pupil at the school, "there were no gay people
at the school." The separation of gay pupils from their straight
counterparts, she felt, would help stop the disease of homosexuality
spreading. However, the second guidance teacher, Mrs. Du Plessis,
openly disagreed with the views expressed by Solomon. Du Plessis
and Solomon so fervently disagreed with each other's points
of view that the 'live' debate became heated.
"In
the taxi home the two teachers were still fiercely exchanging
words. The group of pupils who'd attended the screening as
part of the audience also split into two. Everyone was arguing.
It was horrible." The two teachers, to this day, do not speak.
While the debate between the two teachers might have seemed
like another verbal sparring session to the unaffected viewer,
the real fight was happening on the school-grounds. The Player
Queens realised the need for some sense of cohesion amidst
the ensuing madness. With the help of Du Plessis, they established
an organisation that would serve as a support base for pupils
coming to terms with their sexuality.
Called
Meet-Meet, the organisation met regularly after school to
discuss issues affecting them. Meet-Meet, although founded
by the original Player Queen trio and Du Plessis, had as its
chair the self-appointed spokesperson, Geraldine, an out transsexual,
who turned out to be "a bit bitchy…she was self-serving, but
we stuck with her because she got things done." Realizing
the failure of their divide-and-rule-through-separate-toilets
policy, those opposed to fag rule resorted to other measures:
the Meet-Meet gatherings were not to be held on school premises
anymore. The room in which they held meetings was now "needed
by Christian students to have after-school prayer sessions."
Not
allowing this to affect their organisation, Meet-Meet soon
found a different gathering place. Unhappy with this second
failure to suppress, an evangelist was brought in to preach
the word of God on a 'Reiger Park Miracle Crusade'. Promising
to heal those living with HIV/Aids as well as any other 'Diseases',
the evangelist was not taken very seriously. "We were forced
to listen to him during our morning assembly. All we did was
quietly laugh at him, but only because it made it easier for
us to deal with."
It
was around this time the Meet-Meet members decided on electing
a new spokesperson. Fred Nobin was chosen as "he is a natural
warrior - he really cares about those in the group." This
selection seems an obvious choice given Fred's track record
in dealing with issues affecting his community. Fred is the
founder of the popular monthly beauty contest, Ms. Boksburg.
Putting drag queens up against 'real' girls seemed a silly
idea when first conceived. However, the results suggest something
different. Hosting these beauty contests did much to improve
tolerance levels among the community. Audience members would
watch in as tonishment
as, month after month, chicks with dicks effortlessly stole
the limelight from their 'more authentic' rivals. "Fred would
win practically every contest. We eventually told him to give
up - give someone else a chance at the crown. Now he lectures
the girls. Walk like this; stand this way…that kind of thing."
The
day we were visiting Fred, he seemed adamant that his modelling
days were far from over: "I was walking in this mall once,
not too long ago, and this guy came up to me and asked if
I was a model. He said I've got what it takes." He said looking
coyly into the camera. When I request a brief show, bashful
body language suddenly gives way to a look of urgency: "But
I don't have a wig here!"
'Here,'
of course, is the new Meet-Meet hangout. Since the appointment
of Fred as chair of Meet-Meet, they have lost the building
they met in before as it was Geraldine's wheeling and dealing
that secured that venue.  Everybody
seems much happier in the more personal surroundings of Dennis
Nathan's house, as well as with their charming new spokesperson.
Having secured a replacement wig - "It's not the best, but
it will do!" - he poses gracefully for the camera while relaying
stories, about fights and fucks with straight boys. The tone
Fred uses is at once rigid and calming. The defences built
as a result of the trials of life at Reiger Park, noticeable
in what he says and not how he says it. Soon the effects of
the ice-cold beer they're serving are showing and they start
speaking about the more light-hearted moments at school. Cackles
of laughter drown the sound of pedestrians and cars outside.
For
the first time since arriving in Reiger Park I felt a sense
of safety. There was certainly no sense of safety at the actual
school when we had tried to interview a few teachers and take
a few photographs. Being threatened with violence and/or police
action by certain teachers unwilling to have this story exposed,
I felt immediately that certain kind of numbing, though anger-inducing
energy so unique to confrontations with bigots. I felt, even
for the briefest of moments, that sensation of utter helplessness
that I had felt as a 'faggot' at school. That certain feeling
we have consciously, or subconsciously, exorcised by creating
the bubble we so often find ourselves in: "It's just us, don't
let them in." It has become so easy to forget what we went
through to get to where we are today.
Although, as I sit and listen to the anecdotes slipping off
the tongues of these girls and boys, I notice something, I
for one, rarely experienced at school: Pride and happiness.
The sense of pride these young people have instilled within
themselves and each other is almost palpable. It is this age-old
principle that makes the Reiger Park story such an inspirational
one: the strength, and ultimate survival of the human spirit
in the face of adversity. The final 'funniest' story comes
from Ishmael. Everyone turns their attention to a good-looking,
shy boy in the corner, who hasn't uttered a single word in
the entire time we were there.
One
day, while the Player  Queens
were just the original trio, someone had used the toilet walls
as their platform to write bitchy remarks about how 'all gay
boys are bitches', especially Fred, Tony and Ishmael. Not
willing to let this pass, the three went on an investigative
search. Finding it difficult, as nobody could or would identify
the graffiti-artist, the three finally found someone to bribe
with marijuana and cigarettes - "It helps to have a bit more
money than the rest!" They found their toilet poet in the
form of the straight and rather attractive Shannon - the shy
boy that now sits in the corner of the room. Patiently waiting
for the school day to end, the trio laid in ambush for their
prey at the school gate.
After
a stormy verbal bitch-fest, the not-so-verbally-adept Shannon
felt the only way to defend himself - and his girlfriend's
impression of him, of course - was to beat the faggots. "Well,
it was so funny! We gave him such a hiding…in front of his
girlfriend! We laughed for days after. But that's not it:
a few days later we were fucking like wild rabbits. We eventually
became lovers. It never worked out, really, but to this day
we fuck whenever we see each other." Screams of laughter follow
this story, only intensified by the embarrassed glances Shannon
gives the rest of the room.
Today,
the three are still in contact, despite having gone their
separate ways. Tony has been thrown out of his home by his
father who couldn't deal with his son being gay, and has now
been taken in by an allegedly cross-dressing priest. He currently
does part-time work as a cashier at a local supermarket. He
harbours the dream of eventually, one day, having "the op."
Fred is currently still head of Meet-Meet and continues to
lecture in modelling, while Ishmael, after two failed suicide
attempts while at the orphanage, was adopted by Zackie Achmat
(one of South Africa's leading Aids activists) and his partner.
Now in his second year of film school, Ishmael hopes to finish
schooling in Germany next year. The strength of The Player
Queens lies not in their ability to beat straight boys to
a pulp or even that they managed, within such a short space
in time, to change the attitudes of many in this tiny sub-economic
area but rather that the legacy of their victory over prejudice
and bigotry continues to live on at the school.
©
Carl Collison, Below the Line
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stories on behind the mask
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