Heroes who don’t make headlines

Healthy and strong societies are built, among other things, on a strong and robust education system. In South Africa, we have around 412,000 teachers in public schools. There are 47,400 in private schools. These are the people we task with the responsibility to lay the foundations for our society by teaching our children the skills needed to be solid members of the community.

I am sure my family and in-laws make up a large percentage of the teaching profession. There are many of them who have been teaching for decades, and they have played a role in educating the children of the community as foundation phase teachers (the ones who have to lay the basis with the little ones for a lifetime of learning), as heads of department (ensuring that there is proper teaching of the subject being done), and as principals (basically chief executive officer of the school). My aunt taught me in class (or grade) one and two – she probably should take most responsibility for the quality of this column.

I have vivid recollections of her patience in teaching us how to read and write and add numbers, and when her patience wore out you’d earn a smack on the hand or a banishment from the classroom for 10 minutes – time to reflect on my rotten ways I suppose. My sister-in-law nurtured so many young souls from tough backgrounds to learn the basics so that they could stand a fighting chance of success at the higher grades. I’ve heard how she identified a young one with learning disabilities and brought them to sit next to her desk so that she could pay special attention to the kid’s development. I have a brother who found a late vocation and left the corporate world to become a teacher to kids with impaired hearing.

The stories he tells will put hair on your chest, but from what I can see he revels in the ability to engage with and teach these youngsters. I’ve only ever been involved in adult training, and I marvel at the ability of teachers to handle overcrowded classes, who have to impart skills and knowledge to distracted kids from all sorts of backgrounds. I lift my hat to your endeavours and your temperament.

But that commitment to service can only go so far, and I have been listening to callers on morning radio talk about how they cannot continue to teach and have left the profession for other work. They talk about the impossibility of instilling basic values of respect in the students, and how much energy they expend trying to instill discipline. You can’t teach in a noisy classroom. I listen to stories – from my family too – of insufficient funding for public schools, making it impossible to get and maintain the equipment necessary for proper teaching. In the private schools where parents are more well off financially, there are stories of entitled youngsters whose disrespectful and sometimes destructive behaviour shows that wealth is certainly no guarantee of a solid home life.

It makes me sad. These professionals face increasingly hostile odds as they try to secure our children’s futures and so the stability of our society. Make no mistake, there are those who see teaching purely as a job that will get them a pension that is guaranteed by the state, but I have no doubt they are in the minority. I suspect that the disinterested teacher by and large has been rendered thus by a tough working environment and not a lot of love from their employers.

We need to figure out how to help out. I don’t have too many suggestions in this regard. Maybe we need to get involved more in the life of our children’s schools, like we do with our church communities. We can do things to show our appreciation. Maybe we can initiate conversations about how to prepare our kids for school. What I do know, though, is that we’re on a hiding to nothing if we don’t fundamentally address the challenges in the system that inhibit teaching and learning.