|
|
EDUCATION-SOUTH AFRICA: The Past Isn't History Yet
By Marina Penderis
JOHANNESBURG, Oct 13 (IPS) - Clever student, top grades, demanding
university course...For anyone in this position, using a cheque book or
managing medical insurance should be a cinch, right?
Wrong - at least in South Africa, where the after-effects of apartheid
continue to be felt in the education system. And not just within classroom
walls. Students who are the first in their family, perhaps even in their
community, to go to university often face challenges that would be unheard
of in many other parts of the world.
In large measure, this is because racial segregation locked communities
out of certain sectors of the economy - banking, for instance - and also
prevented them from being exposed to aspects of modern culture which varsity
newcomers are assumed to be familiar with.
"We are expected to be the same, because it is the new South Africa, but
the past is not that far," says Lindiwe Nyathi*, the eldest of five children
and the first in her family to go to university. "A lot of things that other
students take for granted do not apply if you come from a poor, rural
background."
Students of actuarial science, one of the most difficult fields of study,
typically come from the top 15 percent of their school year. Despite this,
many black students start their course without knowing about that cheque
book - or the medical insurance - says Garrett Slattery, head of actuarial
science at Stellenbosch University in the south of the country.
"This is the case simply because nobody in their family ever had those,"
he told IPS. Slattery now provides his first year students with a crash
course in financial services.
In other instances, first years find that they don't share a frame of
reference with lecturers and fellow students.
Last year a report by the Council on Higher Education - an independent
body - showed academic and university staffers at senior levels, and
especially at the historically white universities in South Africa, were
still overwhelmingly white and male.
When these lecturers converse with students from vastly different
backgrounds, they may discover that even when communicating in English,
they're speaking a different language to their students.
"It is...about the contextual and cultural norms that go with it
(language)" says June Pym, co-ordinator for commerce in the Academic
Development Programme at the University of Cape Town, located in the coastal
city of the same name.
"Somebody may talk about 'golf', referring to the game, but the other
person may think of (Volkswagen) Golf the car, because that is their
experience," she told IPS.
Then there is the sheer, financial struggle to pay for tuition - not
unique to South Africa, but still an enormous challenges for the country's
black majority. In some cases, the tales of how graduates obtained their
university education read like film scripts.
Sello Kgosimore had no idea how he was going to cover his living expenses
as a student. He had won a scholarship, but this did not cover accommodation
or food. While Kgosimore's mother managed to borrow about 30 dollars from a
micro-lender to assist him, a quarter of this money was spent on getting him
to the commercial centre of Johannesburg where he was scheduled to take up
his studies.
Kgosimore's solution to the problem was to join a group of professional
boxers, which meant he qualified for accommodation at a hotel in Hillbrow, a
part of downtown Johannesburg notorious for crime and drug use. "I have
quite a belief in myself. I told the guys (friends and family) I would study
and I did," he said in an interview with IPS.
Combining the life of a professional boxer with that of a student was not
easy. The boxers woke at five every morning to go running, catching a nap on
their return. As attractive as his bed may have looked, Kgosimore had to
grab his books and head off for classes.
On the day before a match the boxers were also banned from eating. But
matches on Saturday were often preceded by university tests on Fridays,
which Kgosimore had to sit on an empty stomach.
Today, life is a lot different. He works in the audit department of motor
manufacturing giant Daimler Chrysler South Africa, at the furtherest end of
the social spectrum from that hotel in Hillbrow.
Embarking on university studies can also put students in the
uncomfortable position of challenging traditions and cultural norms - such
as those which expect unquestioning obedience to parental dictates on the
part of children, especially girls.
Nyathi was studying law when her father lost his job in a factory. Her
mother, who earned a living by cleaning houses, was suddenly in the position
of having to support four children on her own. She sent a message saying her
eldest daughter should return home to help the family earn money.
But Nyathi refused. Instead, she continued with her law degree, sending
money home as soon as she had a job. More than a decade later she is still
doing so, but with mounting concern at the fact that her parents have made
no provision for retirement. They are relying exclusively on her to support
them.
While South African students may face particular challenges during their
university years, it seems that an equally demanding set of expectations are
put on them after graduation.
"If you qualified as a lawyer, it is expected that you will look after
your parents. If you do not, people would say you are living the high life
as a lawyer and do not want to look after your parents," says Nyathi.
Add to this the gender-related aspects of culture, and the demands on
female graduates can be considerable.
"Girls are supposed to look after their parents," observes Nyathi. "It is
acceptable if boys do not."
Her own two young daughters live lives that are far removed from Nyathi's
rural upbringing in the Eastern Cape province. They are housed in a gated
golfing estate in Johannesburg and attend a well-known private school, while
their cousins live in an area where women still have to walk great distances
to fetch water.
Yet, inasmuch as tradition may keep a hold on university students,
certain customs are - perhaps inevitably - changing.
Even though Nyathi originally insisted that she would speak Xhosa to her
children, for instance, the two girls now mostly chat in English - the
language of instruction at their school. Xhosa is a black South African
language spoken mostly in the Eastern Cape.
Ian Scott, director of the Academic Development Programme at the
University of Cape Town, says people who change their status through a
higher level of education can find themselves alienated from their
community.
"The community may see them as both a success and unacceptably superior,"
he told IPS. However, he was quick to emphasise that higher education does
not affect everyone in the same way.
And, even though the process of overcoming hurdles can be wearing at
times, Pym believes graduates who do so are worth their weight in gold:
"Students who graduate after negotiating impossible odds can bring great
skills to the workplace."
* Certain names have been changed to protect the identities of those
portrayed. (END/2005)
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
What is RSS?
