Kim van Kets: The science of self-worth and its role in shaping South Africa's future
Key topics
Worthiness as a mindset: Feeling worthy is not a "nice-to-have" but a fundamental driver of our biological and psychological well-being.
The power of acknowledging our roots: Van Kets highlights the importance of the Eastern Cape and its history of excellence, encouraging South Africans to stop underestimating their own abilities and origins.
The need for storytellers: Van Kets calls for people to become "Codegas" and "Rautis"—those who light the way for others, celebrating their worth and reminding them of their heritage.
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By Kim van Kets
I am writing too many things at once and simultaneously reading too many books and because reading is breathing in and writing is breathing out, I feel like I am hyperventilating and need to grab a paper bag. So many thoughts and so much urgency to capture them all before we forget …
Peter and I just returned from Komani (Queenstown) where we briefly visited Queens College. It’s an extraordinary school with an astonishing culture and I can’t ever quite put my finger on precisely what it is that makes it so special. I am very deeply rooted in the rural Eastern Cape. I have a clan name (ndikhulele emaXhoseni, after all), my late father (UZanethemba) matriculated from Queens in the 1950's. I feel his presence here and I associate him with aloes. I keep reflecting on whether I am simply being sentimental. Why do I always feel moved almost to tears just by being here?
We met the headmaster, Janse van der Ryst, in the stands at the sports stadium with its magnificent tartan track looking out in awe at the natural amphitheater of mountains and koppies. He had brought us here to communicate something that words were unable to convey. It felt like we were in the middle of the universe and that someone regal should suddenly appear holding a small Queenian aloft while the ancestors rose out of the stands and burst into a rhythmic chanting of ‘the Circle of Life’ or similar. (And I’m not being facetious.). It felt deeply significant.
We spoke a bit about what he hoped Pete would convey to the boys in his talk and then he fixed us with his piercing, intense gaze and said ‘I want these boys to leave this place with a sense of worthiness. I want them to know they are worthy.’ Yho. This is a big word, maybe even the biggest of them all. Somebody asked me once if a parenting goal was for my daughter to be happy. And I said ‘no, my goal is for her to feel worthy. To know with absolute certainty in the core of her being that she is worthy. And then to be fully engaged in this world.’ I think about worthiness a lot. I have been thinking about it more than usual since this encounter, especially as I contemplated the town from the top of Bowker’s Kop later that afternoon.
We left the stadium and I walked with Janse through the school to his office. And I observed. (I am obsessively obedient to the great poet Mary Oliver who orders us to: Pay attention. Be astonished. Write about it.) The bell had just gone for break and boys were hurtling out of their classrooms and racing to the tuck-shop or wherever boys go with great urgency at breaktime. We moved through a sea of black and gold blazers and without a single exception I noticed that the face of every boy lit up and radiated joy when they saw their headmaster. Even those who were looking surly only a second before (natural resting state of many teenage creatures). I was astonished. They didn’t avoid him, they didn’t suddenly make a u-turn or divert when they saw him approaching, they gravitated towards him, beaming. He made eye contact with every one of them (a challenge in itself) and softly repeated ‘Hello Seun’ a hundred times over in the short walk between the stadium and his office. I felt myself tearing up again. This wasn’t a greeting, it was a blessing. He was taking delight in each of them. He wasn’t saying ‘hello boy’ he was saying ‘I see you, my son.’ He was literally inoculating each boy with worthiness. There is no greater birthright to bestow.
Worthiness is such an important topic because it sits right at the intersection of psychology, biology, and how we actually live. So how do we make worthiness part of our strategy? And why should we, even?
From the archives - Author, extreme athlete, adventurer, myth-buster and storyteller Kim van Kets’ bucket list challenge: running Africa from top to tail
The Biology of Feeling Worthy can be summed up like this:
When I feel worthy my brain is in a “safe and connected” state and the following good stuff happens:
• My prefrontal cortex (PFC) is more active, giving me better perspective, rational thinking, and emotional regulation (even if I am a teenage boy!)
• My ventromedial PFC & anterior cingulate cortex boost self-compassion and empathy.
• I have more oxytocin which is the “bonding hormone,” making me feel connected and trusting.
• I have more serotonin which lifts my mood and stabilises my emotional state.
• My parasympathetic nervous system operates optimally, my heart rate slows, my muscles relax, my digestion and recovery improve.
The natural outcome is that I approach life with curiosity, openness, a sense of endless possibility and hope.
If I don’t feel worthy the opposite is true and my brain flips into “threat/reptile mode” and the following negative stuff happens:
• My amygdala become more active, scanning every situation for signs of rejection or failure (and this becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy.)
• My hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis – pumps cortisol (stress hormone) into my system, keeping me tense and hypervigilant.
• I have reduced PFC activity and it becomes harder to think clearly, plan, or see the bigger picture (especially if I am a teen!).
• My levels of oxytocin and serotonin plummet making connection harder and my mood more unstable.
• My sympathetic nervous system (fight/flight) response stays on longer than needed which is an all-round disaster.
The natural outcome is that I react defensively, take fewer healthy risks, and interpret neutral events as criticism or proof of inadequacy. And so a downward spiral of negativity is inevitable and my chances of success (of every sort) is sabotaged.
Feeling worthy isn’t just a “nice emotional bonus” it literally rewires my brain’s operating mode between growth and survival. Over time, those patterns reinforce themselves, making self-worth a kind of emotional “compass” that shapes every decision and relationship for the better.
Worthiness also requires that we should proudly acknowledge and embrace the authenticity of our roots. Even if they feel humble. Especially if they feel humble. We must stop being apologetic. We need to stop being astonished every time an uncommonly brilliant innovation, solution, creation, strategy emerges from the Eastern Cape. When this happens (as it frequently does) why do we acknowledge it as a surprising exception to the rule rather than a norm? This province of ours is a frontier. Here resourceful alchemists have for centuries made plans, magic, medicine, tools, feats of engineering, art and music and poetry and strategy. Why won’t we embrace our own brilliance? Let’s not be distracted by the potholes.
I suspect that if we are all perfectly honest, we may be able to admit to ourselves that we have become accustomed to an Eastern Cape which (though undeniably unusual) is profoundly admiring of all things ‘other’. A province which is second rate, broken, less than, diffident, modest, grateful. Brilliance, sophistication, elegance, genius – those are the domain of our dazzling City friends in whose shadow we admiringly trail. Our successes unsettle us and lead us to believe that we are imposters. Or that any success is a mistake, a fluke, a once-off or an outlier. (How is this even possible when we think of Nelson Mandela, Steven Biko, Robert Sobukwe, Athol Fugard, John Kani, Brenda Fassie, Siya Kolisi, Rassie Erasmus, Makazole Mapimpi, Olive Schreiner, Darryl Cullinan. The list is endless.). We owe it to our ourselves and to our future success as citizens of the Eastern Cape to find the self-awareness, strength and tools to unpack this and then to repair it. And in order to do this we must first re-imagine ourselves and alter our narrative. Let’s retell our stories. All the time. We must elevate the storytellers. We must become our own codegas, rautis and mbongis.
I have read about two concepts, (astonishingly, both in the memoirs/novels of Elizabeth Gilbert), which (together with the more familiar concept of the South African ‘mbongi’) sum up the exact work that I would like to spend the rest of my life doing.
The first concept is that of a Codega, which I discovered in Eat, Pray, Love: “In Venice in the middle ages there was once a profession for a man (and possibly for some hardcore women too) called a ‘Codega’ – a fellow you hired to walk in front of you at night with a lit lantern, showing you the way, scaring off thieves and demons, bringing you confidence and protection through the dark streets.”
I was thrilled and charmed by the idea of a Codega, both figuratively and literally. I immediately wanted to be one when I grew up.
But now I have also discovered the concept of a ‘Rauti’ in Elizabeth Gilbert’s more recent book, ‘The Signature of All Things’ and I am utterly unhinged by it. I would describe a rauti as an historical Tahitian poet who runs alongside you and readies you for battle, by reminding you of who you are and where you have come from. By invoking your ancestors. Yho. I have no words. This combination of codega, rauti and mbongi is precisely who we need to be to each other.
Imagine if worthiness was the stated goal of every school on this planet? The impact would be unimaginable.