Ricardo Gressel is many things: An entrepreneur, a sought-after MC, a motivational speaker, a former model, the father and grandfather in a successfully blended family. He is, he would Iike you to know, a South American African American, although he likes the ring and simplicity that comes with being a South African American. He has been resident in South Africa for close to 30 years.

He is often the voice and the face of Democrats Abroad South Africa, the person called upon when radio and TV are looking for a DASA statement on events. And now his schedule, always packed, is likely to increase exponentially because of an accident of upbringing and friendship: he grew up in the same town as Kamala Harris and his long-time girlfriend was Kamala’s best friend.

Carole Porter and Kamala would wait, hand in hand, for the bus that would take these two children of colour to a white school. School districts across the US were experimenting with busing some white children to black schools and vice versa, in an effort to get more resources for schools in black areas. Kamala’s mother and Carole’s parents had volunteered for their children to take part.

Ricardo’s parents didn’t. They sent him to Catholic schools – an obvious choice for an altar boy.

“I adored school,” he says. In high school he captained the school football team, was student body president and was elected valedictorian – “not because I was considered the best student,” but because “I had the gift of the gab.”

What was it like growing up in Berkeley? It was an experience, he says, he would wish for every child. “I was so blessed. Berkeley is one of the most socially conscious cities” – there were, for example, talking traffic lights for the blind and at many of the same intersections, curbs revamped into mini driveways for wheelchair access.

And “Berkeley was diverse” – not only racially but culturally. “As much as there was obvious bullying, we talked about culture as children more than we talked about race. We were more interested in where you were from and why you spoke that way.” There was a range of national origins – Fiipinos, for example, many Japanese children, “even black Japanese”.

Ricardo fitted right into that narrative. His parents were both Panamanian, from Colon, on the Pacific. His father’s ancestors travelled from Lyons to Guadeloupe; his mother’s grandfather was a Jamaican sailor and her grandmother was of Portuguese descent.  

But diversity didn’t always work out. Black children often bullied children like Carole and Kamala, according to Carole’s sister Lois, because they were of mixed race. And for white children, it was not helpful that their black classmates were watching the TV version of Roots, Alex Haley’s novel about slavery.

In 1976 Kamala’s scientist mother was offered a post in Canada and the family moved away. Ricardo’s best friend Angelo Martin, who lived across the street, had just met Kamala and was not happy when the family left. “Love letters by post and long distance calls that our parents would ultimately pay for required more passion than today’s mere ‘likes’ where you just click.”

After the family returned to the US, Ricardo got to meet Kamala’s sister. Smart, gorgeous and approachable, Maya socialised in the same circles as Ricardo. “I remember Maya as one of the kindest people to hang around, and I was glad to bump into her at school functions, whether for my all-boys high school, St Mary’s in Berkeley, or her co-ed one in Oakland, called Bishop O’Dowd.”

After Kamala left, Carole’s white mother and black father moved her back into Catholic school – the same primary school Ricardo attended, then the sister school called Presentation, for the Sisters of the Presentation.

Ricardo’s family had moved from Oakland to Berkeley in 1958, but when it came time to go to college, he chose Stanford instead of the local University of California at Berkeley, literally just up the road.

Stanford is where he became an entrepreneur.  He and a friend started a leather business – they designed shoulder bags and clothing which were then made in Mexico. The two Stanford students sold them at intimate house parties before the line, called Nudoso, became so popular they could do leather fashion shows. A Stanford Daily headline from that era: “They’re trying to turn leather into gold”.

“I was in the fashion fraternity and sorority, connecting with photographers and models and even agencies,” Ricardo says, and one agent suggested he do some modelling himself – “See the world and have a lot of fun.”

“I said ‘I have a Stanford degree – why would I want to model?’” But in the end he was persuaded, and for eight years that’s what he did: he saw the world and had a lot of fun.

Thirty years ago, on a shoot in Itay, a South African agent saw him and suggested he come here.

“In 1994 I came to South Africa. I met my wife” -- HR executive Joyce Naidoo – “on Day 3. Four children and two grandchildren later, I’m still here.” For years he went back and forth to the US, doing client service for the McDonalds account – but in 2001 he moved here for good. Among his first jobs was the launch of Cell C.

“I learned that I’ve always been an entrepreneur,” he said. He started a branding agency called BrandSense, which is still going strong.

In 2013 he was recruited as the MC for a new adventure team-building project called The Warrior Race which he describes as a military boot camp. That work is still current, as is MCing other projects, like bicycle races such as Ride Joburg, and the Comrades. “I’m the MC and hype man – giving it my all, making the uncomfortable comfortable through fun and camaraderie. Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself to enjoy life and get over the obstacles.

“I coined the name Warrior Ric – I’m a soldier for Christ. I believe a lot of the work I do is fighting a spiritual battle for the good of humanity.”

He was living his very busy life in 2016 when the election rolled around and he didn’t bother to vote.

“I think the biggest reason, quite honestly, was just sheer apathy.”

The next four years changed that attitude. “I joined DASA in 2020 because of my failure to vote in 2016 when Donald Trump won.

“And, yes, I wanted to help in the effort to make sure he was never re-elected … and here we are again!”

Thanks to Ricardo Gressel and Barbara Ludman for this article.