battle of education

By this point, after almost 20 months in South Africa, I've traveled the country more than most South Africans have. I've yet to see Mpumalanga, Limpopo, Northwest or the Northern Provinces, however I've covered a substantial territory for the other 5 provinces this country has to offer. While Cape Town provided me access to a diverse community of the mixed locals and foreigners, Pongola is much less diverse. It is host primarily to the Zulu population and, as its all-grade, "white" school of 300 pupils shows, a small Afrikaaner grouping as well.

Much like in the Free State where I first worked with the Sotho people, the Zulus love to sing. Constantly! In the staff room, the teachers will spontaneously break into song (usually Christian tunes for they're deep God-believers) and they will start to dance and egg eachother on, elbows out, hips in the air, legs in a semi-squat position. The passing student will pop in and join right in. It's amazing to watch and makes me think that Anglican worshippers might be missing the true spirit of God when I witness them in action.

Every morning school starts with a formal assembly, consisting of lines of all students grouped into grades and genders, ordered smallest to tallest from front to back. Usually one female will initiate a song and lead the rest. Every morning! The songs are amazing and vary greatly, from sombre, gentle tunes to joyful ululations of praise. It is in this that I certainly feel apart but blessed to observe this culture.

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Because I'm the only outsider I think most of my colleagues have known, I feel quite let in and accepted into the folds of their Zulu culture. However, there are parts for which I still remain white and provide an obvious access to other things - namely rides to town in my bakkie and even toilet paper (there is none provided at school). My whiteness may indicate a certain wealth, but they fail to look at my shoes to see that I'm the most poorly and casually clad of the lot.

Beyong my colleagues, my students seem excited to have a white teacher. To them it's a strange, unusual and rare privilege. The learners all call me Mistress and they greet me constantly at all times of the day. Not that I deserve such formality or honor! I am struggling. Phew! Struggling to understand the purpose of teaching literary techniques to students who cannot understand the difference between "across" and "around" and who fail to write succint, complet sentences. I'm struggling to assign work and then grade the 55 papers that pour in at a time (if I'm so lucky they all do their work). Mostly, I'm struggling to accept being a tight-ass teacher because that's the only way I know how to cope. Because these students are used to being smacked as a reproach, the only tool I have to save face is to show little mercy and to infuse the class with a firm work ethic. I surprise my constantly with the harsh things that run out of my mouth, "An empty slate makes for an empty mind," and "Your grades are so terrible you should go cry in the corner." Woah?! Is this really me?

I am starting to get inside the heads of my students and to understand the backgrounds from which they're coming. Each week they have journals due, 5 entries per week, and it is a massive stack of work for me to wade through. However, I'm only getting a 15% turn-in rate which is deplorable so I shouldn't complain about the little that I have to do TOO much! Most of my students have very little to say. They have long walks to school. They wash their clothes by hand every second day and help their mothers with dinner. Many do not live with their mothers or fathers, who either work in another town or have since deceased. Some students live under the care of their siblings if both parents have died. If both parents are gone, you know it's the product of AIDS. Some students reminisce about days past when they lived in more rural areas and had to walk to the river to fetch water. They see living in a place with a running tap as a significant step up in the world. Other students seem to have life a bit easier and follow a more mainstream course of life, listening to the radio all weekend long and going to church on Sundays, finding great joy in a new dress or present from a boyfriend/girlfriend. It's amazing to me how many students actually write about their relationship with God in their journals - God is deeply embedded in the culture here.

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My difficulties with my students make me think back to Myers Park High School's Humanities class led by Mrs. Goodloe & Mr. Leighton and the 50 bright, strong, eager students and the college-level curriculum. They were superb educators and so I wonder what they would say to me, how I should make it work with so many students, such a lacking work ethic and the void of little parental support . And then I think they would struggle to advise me because I have the load equivilent to 10 American high school classes.

I lack the resources to know how to manage my situation and find no comfort from the colleagues who suggest the only way to get work from black children is to use the rod. I feel poorly educated in what I'm trying to achieve, trying to elicit work that I barely have time to grade, trying to achieve learning in a room stifling with heat and where the students are constantly distracted by sitting 3 or even 4 to a desk on shared, broken chairs that frequently collapse and require an uncomfortable effort in balance.

I think how U.S. teachers are so endowed with resources like classroom budgets and class sets of books where each student can take them home to read. I think of the technology available and how it enables the classes to succeed because less time is devoted to rote learning and copying. Even a simple device such as an overhead projector would be a life-saver -- saving me the time from having to write on the board again and again and again as I have to move from classroom to classroom. Do these U.S. teachers know how much they take for granted?

I'm caught in a rift between these 2 sets of educators - teachers who are qualified and equipped to teach from a perspective of freedom learning in well-resourced classrooms with comfortable teacher-student ratioes AND these educators here who are unqualified but who have learned to cope with large class szies (be it effective or not). I long to meet the teacher who has seen both worlds and who can advise me in how to move forward in these difficult circumstances. I long to know more about how I can make this work in a way that is sustainable and enjoyable for all ... Ish (as all the Africans say for "yikes"), I feel a dissertation coming on!