A struggle to learn
An athlete studies S. Africa's
education system
(Editor's note: In 2003, Jordan Goldwarg
wrote about coming out to his cross-country ski team for
Outsports. Upon his return from a project in South Africa
this year, we asked him to write about his experiences
researching that country's educational system.)
On a
sweltering, late-summer day in Cape Town, South Africa, I
found myself sitting with 10 high school students in a
small, airless room in a community center in Kensington, a
predominantly poor, coloured neighbourhood on the edge of
the Cape Flats, the sprawling desert to which most of Cape
Town’s non-white population was forcibly relocated during
the years of apartheid.
We were
there to talk about what high school is like if you are poor
and coloured (the term used for people of mixed racial
descent) in South Africa. And despite the oppressive heat, I
was completely transfixed by what the kids were telling me.
They
told me about the state of disrepair of their schools, with
walls and windows that are broken, and classrooms that could
badly use a fresh coat of paint. “We have one class where
the wall is broken,” said one. “It’s almost like if you push
it, the wall will fall over.” They pointed out that schools
are so overcrowded that there are often 60 students in one
class, sharing textbooks and desks. Other supplies are
limited, too: there are not nearly enough computers to go
around, and a science lab has only two microscopes.
They
talked about things we frequently take for granted in North
America. Their schools have no lockers, so they must leave
their bags and books out in the hallways, making them
vulnerable to theft. School toilets are filthy, dangerous,
and often not functioning. Libraries are poorly stocked and
rarely used, if ever.
There
are few classes offered outside the core curriculum, so
things like art, music, and drama are rare or nonexistent.
Sports facilities and physical education classes are absent,
prompting one student to say “fighting is the only physical
activity we do.”
And
there’s no doubt that fighting and violence are very much a
part of these students’ lives. Gangs and gang-related
violence are a major problem in Kensington, and this spills
into the schools, where gangsters come to sell drugs, steal
things, and recruit new members. These recruits will very
often become dropouts, leaving them without a high school
diploma in a country where even those with a diploma have a
very hard time finding a good-paying job.
One of
the students shared with us the story of his dropout
brother: “My brother, he dropped school, he dropped out of
school at Standard 3 [Grade 5]. Gang-related. Peer pressure
from friends. And now, he’s a drug addict. At the moment,
he’s a drug addict, looking for help.” Sadly, help is hard
to come by.
Clearly,
some of the problems present in Kensington are present in
North American schools, too -- especially inner-city schools
in poor areas. But while we view these situations as the
exception in North America, they are more of the norm in
South Africa. And although I had been studying education in
South Africa for four months when I talked to the Kensington
kids, this was the first time that I really began to
understand how difficult it is for these students to get a
quality education.
South
Africa is a country that has a magnetic attraction on me,
drawing me there three times in the past 18 months, with
each trip longer than the previous one. I first went there
with my family for a vacation in March 2006. Captivated by
the stunning natural beauty of Cape Town and the volatile
mix of social issues that coexist uneasily with this beauty,
I returned there in June 2006 for a month to do research for
my Masters dissertation on the social aspects of HIV in
South Africa. While doing my research, I met Zackie Achmat,
a lifelong political activist who has made a lasting impact
on South African society through his work on issues linked
to apartheid, gay rights, and health care (especially
HIV/AIDS).
After
finishing my Masters, I still wanted to spend more time in
South Africa, so I accepted an invitation from Zackie to
return to Cape Town and help him start a new project to
improve the education system in the country, which still
suffers from gross inequalities, 13 years after the end of
apartheid. My task was to conduct research that would help
identify the major problems; this research will later be
used in a political campaign to achieve better education.
In
November 2006, I returned to Cape Town, this time for six
months. As soon as I arrived and began reading about what
was happening with education, I was shocked. During
apartheid, the government openly aimed to ensure unequal
education: schools were strictly segregated by race, and the
government provided overwhelmingly more money to white
schools than to non-white ones. (As an example, in 1986, the
government spent 2,428 rands per white student, and only 303
rands per black student.) Today, although schools -- like
the rest of the country -- are integrated, even public
schools can charge tuition fees, so the former all-white
schools generally charge very high fees, ensuring their
student body remains upper class, which by extension, means
that it will be mostly white.
One day,
I visited one of these wealthy, former all-white public
schools to observe a Grade 3 class. I was greeted at the
front entrance to the school by two students from the class,
looking sharp in their clean uniforms, who then led me to
their classroom. Over the course of a few hours and
conversations with students, teachers, and administrators, I
was impressed to learn about the opportunities available to
students at this school: small class sizes, enrichment
classes, a full art and music program, extensive sporting
facilities, and the opportunity for team trips to Europe and
Australia -- even for elementary students.
Along
with being impressed by all this (and remember, this is a
public school), I was also shocked that such relative
opulence could exist less than 10 miles from Kensington,
where the students were still fighting with each other over
who would use one of the two microscopes. Yet such contrasts
are evident everywhere in South Africa, with the difference
between wealthy and poor still all too often drawn along
racial lines.
So what
can be done to change things? As with most major problems,
there are no easy solutions, especially since it’s not
simply a question of throwing more money at the poor
schools. The larger problem lies in the broader
socio-economic reality in which the majority of South
Africans live. More money could certainly construct better
school buildings, equip them with proper supplies, and even
provide facilities like sports fields and art rooms. But
more money will not help the fact that many non-white
teachers currently working in poor schools were trained
during apartheid, which meant they received a vastly
inferior training compared to their white counterparts.
More
money will not help the fact that many students are coming
to school hungry since their families cannot provide them
with decent meals. More money will not help the fact that
many kids expend considerable time and effort taking care of
their parents who are sick or dying from AIDS (I visited a
desperately poor school in KwaZulu-Natal province, where 35%
of women of child-bearing age are HIV-positive). And more
money will not help the fact that many children are scared
to come to school because of the gangs that could attack
them either on their way to school or once they’re there.
Reasons for hope
Tackling
all of these problems will probably take at least a
generation. But in the meantime, I still find South Africa
to be a remarkably hopeful place, in large part thanks to
the resilience of its people. As dismayed as I was to hear
about the reality of schools in Kensington, what struck me
more was the desire of the students there to get a good
education and succeed in life, no matter how much effort it
might take.
As we
sat around the table, talking and laughing, they produced a
steady stream of creative ideas that would help make their
schools better. One suggested that the school could start a
large garden, which would serve the dual purpose of
providing healthy food for students and employment for
parents. Another expressed a strong desire for her school to
offer night classes, which could provide remedial work,
enrichment, and the opportunity for students who need to
work a job during the day to still get an education. Other
students had great ideas for strengthening school security
to ward off the threat of gangsters. Admittedly, these are
small steps -- and not necessarily easy to implement -- but
they provide an example of the kind of creative thinking and
engagement with the issues that will be needed.
As I
left the students in Kensington, it was this message of hope
that I took home with me. Despite all the obstacles that had
been put in their way, they still cared; they still
wanted to succeed. If that concern can somehow be translated
into action, it will be a formidable force for good in South
Africa, especially since education is key in solving so many
other socio-economic problems. But I was also left wondering
how caring and hope can be converted to action that will
help change a country.
Jordan Goldwarg
grew up in Montreal and earned his BA in History from
Williams College in Massachusetts. After working as an NCAA
ski coach for two years, he went to England, where he
obtained his Masters in Geography. Now back in North
America, he is considering which adventure to pursue next.
And
there’s no doubt that fighting and violence are very much a
part of these students’ lives. Gangs and gang-related
violence are a major problem in Kensington, and this spills
into the schools, where gangsters come to sell drugs, steal
things, and recruit new members. These recruits will very
often become dropouts, leaving them without a high school
diploma in a country where even those with a diploma have a
very hard time finding a good-paying job.