Integration Post-Apartheid
"History was thus made on 9 January, 1991, when the integration of public schools was initiated through the admission of black students to thirty-three formerly all-white schools. The first steps to integration were begun in the former Transvaal Province, and was soon undertaken throughout the country." - saha.org.za
It was four weeks before my fourteenth birthday when South Africa had its first democratic elections in 1994. We were three years into the integration program that opened up interracial mixing at schools. Apart from expensive private schools, government schools were segregated up until January 1991. I am surprised and disappointed that our storytellers have not scripted a movie or a TV series that captures this very dynamic/funny/challenging time in our history.
The content over this period, away from the political unrest and negotiations that brought us to the national elections of '94, from the corridors of previously white schools, were African kids determined to establish their place in historically racist institutions. The battles were many, as we carved our futures in an academic sense adjusting to a new way of learning. We were pre-teens with raging hormones, our presence being challenged by white pre-teens irritated, no wait disgusted by our mere presence.
We did not speak English, not every day, and certainly not fluently. Yet there we were forcing our brains, ears and tongues to rigorously interact with this language previously reserved for the academics. We had a basic understanding of English from America programs on TV, we would catch the jokes, if delivered slowly. Some of us weren't too bad at reading it either. But English was not ours, that was clear. We couldn't fully express our emotions with it.
These previously white schools were in the city or in white suburbia and so we commuted using public transport, and with our uniforms we paraded the city streets looking like soldiers in our blazers and shinny shoes.
There was always a fight at break times black on black from different districts perhaps yesterday after school in town the one girl was talking to the other's potential boyfriend. Now for any race group this is a point of contention, especially at a Girl's school. These fights were pure entertainment for the onlookers and we would lose ourselves in the moment and forget where we were in our united mission. This made the white students uncomfortable as they realized our fire. A prefect would soon swoop in and say "Girls we only speak English in this school!", and this fight would NOT have been in English so this sentence alone became a weapon, a diffuser. The fight would fizzle, until after school. Oh and after school is after school!
Other fights were interracial, now those fights were like a contagious virus that would be sparked and spurred on by the question "Is it because I'm black?", These fights were painful to watch, our sister might be in the right, her protest justified, however because she lacked the English vocabulary, she would be mocked, every expression laughed at by the other white students, so demoralizing and infuriating. The strong willed black students would soon lose it and strike, smack in the face and you would hear the open palm land hard on the soft face of the unexpecting white girl...EISH...another one bites the expulsion dust. The school policy had no tolerance for violence, which was another new thing for us. Bantu education schools didn't expel you for a petty fight, you would be forced to clean toilets or prune the principals' garden or pull out weeds at the bottom of the fields, but not expel you. I mean how counterproductive! And so we would lobby arguing that the student had been provoked into violence. Sometimes our protests would be considered and a lesser punishment would be issued, perhaps a two weeks suspension.
Eventually we found rhythm, our English improved allowing our academic abilities to surface. This did wonders for our confidence. Black students in debate clubs were fierce! Maths and science boffins merged. Home economics was lame, because we knew how to cook, how to sew, iron and we knew how to perform child care tasks, to us these were basic so there was not much of a challenge there. I believe we also associated this class with the restrictive syllabus of the Bantu education that was training our people to become domestic workers and child minders.
We were so invested, committed to a brighter future for all of us and tasked with a mission to breakout of poverty, to tilt the economic scales, to secure a future for our children's' children. Our grandparents marvelled at our promise and prospects, which for them was a soothing balm to all the struggle and discrimination they had endured all their lives. Parents bent over backwards to meet these expensive school fees, the transport, uniforms, excursions and this lifestyle that included hanging out in shopping centres (before malls) and the movies. We started to speak English in our homes as TV programming was flooded with American sitcoms.
What we didn't realize is that our languages carried ethnic coding, our value systems as well as our identity. We were so eager to demonstrate how well we could fit in with the former oppressor's culture we neglected our own. Soon it became normal to have African kids unable to speak in their mother tongue. I don't believe that was our intention when this integration started.
"Twenty years later, racial integration remains a challenge for the nation's burgeoning school system. Schools are plagued by the effects of socio-economic deprivation, prejudice, cultural difference, gender inequalities, sexual harassment and poor literacy rates, and far more work needs to be done to balance out the historic inequities of the Bantu Education system." - saha.org.za
Thirty years later with all the challenges we continue to face, we realize that the African must invest in building their own schools, research and design an African global syllabus that is relevant and aligned to continental aspirations. We must empower our children with accurate history, African economic systems and technology that will enable them to control and capitalize on our wealth. We then also have the responsibility to see to it that our governing and economic systems are redesigned and strengthened to meet the diverse talent coming out of our schools.
We are our ancestors' wildest dreams and the global view confirms that we are just at the beginning of a breakthrough in our journey to self determination.
You have seen by now what education means to us: the identification of ourselves with the masses. Education to us means service to Africa. You have a mission; we all have a mission. A nation to build we have, a God to glorify, a contribution clear to make towards the blessing of mankind. - Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe
Photographs from my previous schools:
Longmarket Girls School,
Pietermaritzburg Girls High School,
The Wykeham Collegiate
beautiful writing...as a kid from the diaspora....i can relate to the unfortunate situation where the desperate desire to immerse and assimilate made us loose sight of the importance of learning our mother tongue
ReplyDeleteWell articulated, had me feeling quite nostalgic. I agree we do need an African model of education for the black child to strive and to successfully pursue the African agenda.
ReplyDelete