Sunday, August 14, 2011

The start of something big.

                I started applying to government schools in the hope to firstly find a position that was permanent and secondly to start using my English teaching skills to help others instead of just profiting from it myself. I teach second language to international students who come to South Africa for business opportunities. It’s a profitable industry because as a TESOL teacher you get paid by the hour and because most of my students are adults; my biggest problem is relating the material to them. Two hours of “am, is and are” is not a bad way to earn a living, but as I am reaching my late twenties I am starting to feel the need to explore the opportunities available to me as an English teacher. I realised that for this to happen one must firstly start with the self and open the heart to these different opportunities.  So I started applying at schools in poorer township areas for just about any post available. I thought that for the right opportunity to come along, I would have to be open to everything and anything no matter how far out of my comfort zone it is. Applying at these schools is a challenging exercise because they don’t have the technological luxuries that we in the academic world are used to. Some of the Principals can speak only a small amount of English for basic communicative purposes which make the whole process even more painful and being a younger white woman does not help the situation at all. The South African education system needs more young educated teachers to join the ranks against poverty but the schools that really need the enthusiasm and resources of young teachers are hesitant to employ them. What you look like is very important.  They don’t hire white teachers and especially not young, pretty white teachers, so as you can imagine actually getting a post was difficult. I applied at this particular school twice before I got the phone call late on a Thursday afternoon.
                I remember walking into the school thinking that there are a lot of burglar bars and was asked to wait a few minutes by a short, fat woman with a big smile until the change of periods. Waiting in front of the office, I sat on the bench next to the security guard and a Grade 9 pupil who promptly told me he was in trouble for wearing his cap. He seemed really frustrated with the idea that he was not allowed to wear a cap in school and called it unfair. He seemed sweet and I soon made him crack me a smile with a little joke. When I was called in, I told him: “Be good and stay out of trouble!” To which he just smiled.
                My interview was conducted by the Principal and Vice principal who are both coloured men aged around 40 years old and I charmed the boots off of them. My best friend is coloured and I’d had lots of practice with her family, they were always a bit sceptical of Benetta Anne’s white friend.  I could see that the Principal and vice principal too were sceptical but thankfully they were in a non negotiable situation and needed me to start the following Monday. I agreed to a minimum wage and to take on English Grade 9 and English Grade 10. I was told not to worry that I would be filled in on Monday by one of the teachers. After the interview I felt a brief sense of euphoria but that was soon replaced with the crashing realisation that I would have to teach these kids who are basically a collection of the ‘worst’. Never mind that, I would have to maintain a certain level of classroom control! It seemed like a crazy, fruitless idea that would be a hugely challenging and that I’m actually not qualified to do. But I feel like I have done so much and have learnt so much that I’m a natural teacher. I really don’t try that hard, I just say what it is. So after a sleepless two nights, Monday morning arrived and I was introduced to the School as “Miss. Lourens”.  I was told not to park on the school premises as it would be much safer to park out in front of the school, where there is security. I also joined the morning devotions group as I thought I may need a little extra help with this one. Devotions in the morning is mostly a group of women and the Principal and vice principal. The first morning I was there, I held hands with my Principal while we prayed. The teachers that are in this group make my heart swell. They have been teaching for 20 or 30 years and the conditions that they are forced to teach under are appalling, yet everyday they come to this school and plan for poverty outreaches and welfare schemes. They sell cakes at break time to buy a wheelchair for a boy in New Brighton. But I can see in their eyes how they hold on to the strength that they get from their God. How they rely on him to face the onslaught of mini gangsters and try to create hope for tomorrows children. This is why I go every morning. I am the first one there and I put the kettle on.  When we pray, I bow my head in respect for these people who are fighting the good fight against all odds and when it was my turn to take devotions I praised them with the words of their God.  These people are very different from me and where I come from. They are community people who have known each other since schooling days and it is them that hurt when someone in their communities are hurt or bullied by the gangsters that rule their suburbs. They live in fear of being shot over the weekend by the very students that they teach. It’s a commitment to education and the children of this school that goes way past what most of us would find acceptable. And yet they continue to do good for children who don’t appreciate it and their communities that are in abject poverty.