DENZEL THE DISRUPTER

Denzel Swarts, a farmworker’s son who dared to dream bigger. ‘I am proof that change is possible,’ he says. ‘My purpose is to be a beacon of hope to my people who are still afraid to speak up or have dreams’ 

Denzel (40) grew up on Simonsig Wine Estate in South Africa’s Stellenbosch, the younger son of a farm labourer and domestic worker. Today he is a sales and brand executive at Zoetendal Vineyards and lives in Mitchells Plain with his hairstylist wife Nadae and two children, aged seven and 11

I HAD A VERY JOYOUS CHILDHOOD growing up on the Simonsig vineyards, with a lot of freedom to be a child, run all over the land and connect to the soil. At 13, I started doing holiday jobs on the farm, things like pest control and cleaning irrigation pipes. Eventually, I advanced to work in the wine tasting facility where I swept leaves and cleaned wineglasses and toilets.

When I was a teenager my parents divorced, so life was less easy. But more challenging for me was seeing no people of colour in senior positions on the farm. I’d always heard people in my community discuss this situation with fear in their voices and now, as a teen, I tried to work out why they were too scared to speak out. Were they self limiting or was there actually a glass ceiling?

At 18, I applied for a wine advisor job at the tasting facility. I was turned down but was okay about it till I heard that white students who applied after me were getting the jobs. This felt really unfair and the longer I thought about it, the less I could accept it. Eventually, I felt I simply had to challenge the situation. I’d reached breaking point.

Today a parent with his wife Nadae to their children Diego and Deezaan, Denzel remembers reaching breaking point as a teenager when he realised his skin colour might be affecting his job prospects | Photo: Nicky Elliott

Maureen, the manager of the wine tasting room at the time, discouraged me, but I decided to challenge things in the most respectful way and set up an appointment with the MD, Pieter Malan. I’d played with his nephews growing up so we knew each other, but I was very nervous. This was one of the most daring things I’d ever done! I half thought he might tell me never to come back since I was effectively rejecting the work his family had given me on the farm to date.

I believe there’s a God out there, so I prayed hard before the meeting for a good outcome. I’d formulated a three-prong logic which I delivered to Pieter in a flood of adrenaline. First, I stated that my academics weren’t bad, second, that Pieter already knew my character and, third, that I’d found a policy of the farm which gave children of the farm workers first rights to job opportunities (though what kind of jobs wasn’t specified).

butterflies

Pieter listened carefully to me, brought Maureen into the room to hear her thoughts, and then calmly said, ‘Denzel, I’m going to give you the opportunity to work as a wine advisor. You can start Monday.’ My goodness, how excited I was! Though of course I had a lot of butterflies too, especially when Pieter told me to be well prepared.

My parents, who’d been very fearful about my appointment with Pieter, were very proud even though they didn’t spell it out. I think they must have crossed every finger and toe as I started! I, too, was nervous that I’d be a disappointment in the job, but I got amazing support from the other wine advisors, most of whom were students.

Denzel’s mother, Serena, who was a domestic worker in the home of the owners of Simonsig wine farm, was ‘very fearful’ about her son challenging for a wine advisor job that no person of colour had occupied before on the farm

I was the only advisor of colour and I now had to learn about wine in a completely different way: technical analysis and food and wine pairings, plus I had to work on my sales skills as I was selling the wine as well as pouring it. When the other advisors saw it was hard for me, they jumped in to help me. I worked my butt off and the more I was supported and engaged with clients, the more my confidence boomed. I started feeling that I was an equal, I wasn’t just the Denzel who cleans toilets and buffs the glasses.

My relationship with Maureen was challenging when I started but, after the first season ended, she did one of the noblest and humblest things: she apologised to me and said I’d been one of her best workers that season. This turned our relationship around, and she became a wonderful mentor to me.

Pieter had told me to cultivate expertise around wine, so I started training myself. I’d already put myself through a vineyard pruning course during my final year of school and I continued with other courses.

Son of the soil. While still at school, Denzel funded himself through a vine pruning course. ‘In the early morning, the only thing you hear is the scissors cutting through those canes. It’s an unbelievably peaceful sound,’ he says

I worked at Simonsig for a number of years, apart from a period writing life-skills programmes for children in townships around Cape Town. When Maureen retired in 2015, I was given her position of tasting room manager, becoming the first senior manager of colour at Simonsig. Again, this opened a whole new world, both to me and to people of colour, both students and farm workers. It was a big change for people from my community to see somebody who looked and spoke like them in a senior position.

As manager, I made up my mind to use a diverse team to increase our sales, employing people of different races, including farm workers, so that all our customers could be helped in their language of choice, and see people like themselves in the facility. It all helped strengthen the footprint of the tasting facility, which has received many accolades, and in my view, is among the top in the world.

Eventually, due to all the courses I had taken, I was able to receive a Recognition of Prior Learning acknowledgement and was accepted for a post-graduate diploma in management practice at the University of Cape Town’s Graduate School of Business.

I loved the diploma. It was very challenging but greatly rewarding. I even ended up as student chairperson of the post-graduate commerce faculty and found myself interviewing candidates for dean of the faculty. This was one of my top leadership experiences. ‘I think,’ I said to Nadae, ‘God is showing me that I might be a leader.’

My family was proud to have their first graduate in the family and the diploma was super-helpful, opening up the world and aspects of business to me beyond the small bits I knew. Challenged to think at a managerial level, I applied for a job at Zoetendal Vineyards as at Simonsig there was no potential for moving any further up. I remain grateful for the Malan family’s contribution to my wine journey and we are still in touch.

Today I’m a sales and brand executive at Zoetendal and it is going well. Our vision is to grow to be one of the top-10 premium wine producers in South Africa. There are no workers born on the Zoetendal farm, but I champion diversity big time.

Denzel is now a sales and brand executive for Zoetendal Vineyards, where he champions diversity

Nothing is easy, but I enjoy every moment of the fact that I get to work in different facets of the business and am grateful to work for extraordinary owners, who allow me to dream big, explore new prospects and look at failures as a learning opportunity. I travel a lot internationally and can see our market share growing.

This year I’ve been to Germany, Denmark, Brazil, Columbia and Thailand and still have the USA and Lesotho to visit by year end!

Denzel now travels internationally to market Zoetendal’s wines. ‘It has extraordinary owners who allow me to dream big,’ he says

In 2016, I founded an NGO to provide young people from my type of background with the mentorship I myself would have loved. It’s called Son of the Soil Leadership Foundation. There’s a very big school dropout rate on the farms so we aim to give children a chance in life with a three-year programme that harnesses existing self-development programmes.

Our pilot-programme kids are doing really well and are all employed in good jobs (teacher, nurse, head butler), except for one who’s still studying. We’ve mentored about 35 children so far. Nadae and I fund it, but realise that to be sustainable it needs to find its own financial legs. When people ask me if I’ve achieved success, I say not completely, but the success of which I’m very proud is that some young people I’ve mentored are now in better positions than me and have a louder voice than me.

Denzel started Son of the Soil, a leadership foundation to give teenagers from backgrounds like his ‘a chance in life,’ he says.  ‘What I’m very proud of is that some young people I’ve mentored are now in better positions than me and have a louder voice than me’ | Photo: SM Photography

Nonetheless, I find transformation in the wine industry very slow. I realise this is partly due to finances, but also believe that it’s because people are afraid to talk to each other about sensitive things. They’d rather remain quiet and continue the old way than sit down and speak about how they feel. You might not always find a middle point for both parties when you do this, but you can at least understand how others feel.

As a result, I often question why I’m working in the wine industry. Shouldn’t I move on? But I find it’s not just a career for me, it’s a lot deeper rooted than earning a salary. It’s about changing the narrative and reflecting to my community that if you really want to go for something and work hard, you can achieve it. So, ultimately, working in the winelands is a calling for me.

Despite the despondency I can feel about the situation, my faith has grown a lot over the past few years. I’m grateful for so much, including small things. Sometimes I switch off everything in my vehicle and, as I drive, I talk out loud to God. Such moments allow me to block out the noise of the world and connect to Him. I tell my children that Jesus is alive and around and it’s important to treat people respectfully. For me, life is about connecting with other human beings.

‘Sometimes I talk out loud to God in my car. I tell my children that Jesus is alive and around,’ says Denzel | Photo: Nicky Elliott

I was raised among the tired but dignified faces of people who laboured quietly but with extraordinary strength. Their stories weren’t always told, but I saw them and I carry them with me. My people’s resilience has become the foundation of my purpose to speak out their unspoken words in the vineyards, to be a beacon of hope for those who are still afraid to speak up or have dreams.

I am proof that dreams can be realised, that new opportunities can exist for the children of farm workers. I believe that, as you move up, you must pull others up with you, and that transformation in the wine industry is not only possible but necessary.

I dedicate this interview to my family and the many farmworkers whose shoulders I grew up on and all those whom I have met in my life who have shown me the real meaning of Ubuntu, by which I mean that we are all interconnected and that I am a person because of them ♦

His smile is confident today but Denzel has not forgotten how nervous he was to challenge for a position that no person of colour had previously occupied on the farm. He feels called ‘to speak out the unspoken words’ of his people, many of whom still lack the confidence to speak up, he says  | Photo: Nicky Elliott