Over the Christmas Holidays I attempted to bring order to my Laptop and in the process came across this article which I wrote for our local magazine but for one reason or another never got sent. Given the nostalgic theme of my last post, I thought I would share it with you all now.
In May I spent a month working with the grade 5 and 7 pupils at Thembelitsha Primary School in Knysna, South Africa, and it is an experience that will stay with me forever. The school itself is very basic, with just about enough chairs and tables to accommodate the 50 children in each class, but the enthusiasm of the students there is more than enough to make up for the lack of equipment. One of the first things I “taught” the grade 7s there was a song that I learnt in Children’s Choir when I was at Overhills, “We’re going on a bear hunt”. Bearing in mind that the average age of the class was 13, I anticipated a disaster, with most of the students choosing not to participate due to an “I’m too cool for this” attitude. In fact, it was the complete opposite. The song became a favourite and 7B even performed it with gusto in assembly the following week without the slightest hint of embarrassment! I understand that given the choice between learning about adjectives and spending an hour outside in the playground most children would opt for the latter. But the delight with which they approached the task impressed me immensely.
It was not all fun and games however. Due to the large class sizes, it is impossible for the teachers to give the necessary amount of attention to each student, and consequently there is a huge divide between those who are at the top of the class and those who are clearly struggling. My job, whilst I was at the school, was to act like a classroom assistant, coaching those in need of extra help. One of the biggest stumbling blocks I had to deal with was the reluctance the children had to ask for help. They point blank refused to put their hand up. Coming from a education system which encourages us from day one to ask for help if needs be, it seemed totally alien that they would rather fail in silence than ask for assistance. But I suppose with such huge classes no student got the amount of attention needed. This is a failing of the system and one that isn’t limited to South Africa.
During the time I spent in Knysna, the Grade 7s were asked to write a poem about a place they thought was beautiful, and I was asked to mark each and every one of them! The texts that I got back were as varied as the children that I had the pleasure to work with; some had obviously worked very hard, some had merely copied other poems out of the text books and some, bizarrely, had copied down the question, breaking it up on to different lines in the hope that that would turn it into a poem! However, every cloud has a silver lining and I would like to take this opportunity to share with you a poem handed in right at the end of my time at Thembelitsha.
My Beautiful School
By Lwando Best
When I see my beautiful school,
I just think of education,
Dedication.
The school that make me have graduation,
To have some good celebrations.
Oh, let me not think about the whole situation.
When I see my school,
I just think of the sky that makes me want to fly
Oh let me think of the of the best school in West Thembelitsha
Thembelitsha is the First and the best that have good education.
I have copied this poem exactly as it was written. Lwando, along with the rest of the school speaks Xhosa as his mother tongue, which is one of the African “clicking” languages and about as different from English as possible.
7A
7B
