I spent Tuesday afternoon in the KwaMashu township with the inspirational Siyanda Msomi, artist and teacher at the Mzuvele High School. Siyanda had persuaded (cajoled, railroaded - take your pick) a mixed group of teachers and students to talk with me about their understanding and experience of diversity in the township and the municipality. The school has 1190 pupils, from age 12 upwards, and average class sizes can be between 60 and 70, and is one of 23 schools that serve this large township.
I have to say that I found this session one of the most fascinating experiences of my trip yet. I have mainly relied on one to one contact interviews so far - which has its own advantages in terms of getting an in-depth reflection. But what I think i enjoyed most about the session at the school, was the dynamics of the room - how through the debate and questions, the shy students transformed into passionate and articulate young adults, who very much surprised themselves, and pleasantly surprised their teachers I think. It was the questions we stumbled on that provided the richest veins. When I asked about English in the classroom, one teachers spoke of the idea that one day it might be possible to provide Zulu language education, that engineers could pass a degree in their own language and not have to learn solely in English. The students were wide eyed at this suggestion: Zulu is for home and friends, English is the way to get a job. They simply couldn't imagine a world where their own language would be on a parr with other languages. It was a similar theme when I asked them about the city becoming more mixed. They spoke about working hard so "blacks can move into white areas', but when I asked would the townships ever become diverse, it was laughable. They couldn't imagine a white person ever wanting to live in township, so there was no need to think about if they would be welcomed. "Townships are black" said one person.
On the subject of 'township identity', one of the young people gave a fantastic insight: "where we live is cruel, so some people think you have to be cruel to fit in: that means bouncing school, not showing respect, for some kids its hard to go against their friends who think like that".
One of the teachers spoke of how hard it is to teach a class, sometimes 68 pupils, some hungry, and many (nearly 70% of kids in the school) who have only one surviving parent, or are being raised by a grandparent. Durban has one of the highest rates of HIV/Aids with 32% rate of infection. She said that the role models in the community can't make themselves role models, "what can you say to a child who says 'i know you, you stay by my house' ?"
For many of the teachers, the challenges of the high schools is the legacy of infrastructure. Schools in white or Indian areas might get the same levels of funding now - but they had investment previously, and have a level of infrastructure that Black township schools never had, so they have withstood the transition. "They are not 'better' schools, they are just starting from an easier place".
The school, however, is a key driver for optimism and change in the township. Through a partnership with a local church, part of the school grounds is now an allotment, which sells part of its harvest for profit which s reinvested in the community. The students also undertake numerous educational project that aim to benefit the community. This is where the real benefit of having local teachers is seen. I asked was it hard to find people in the community to help with project and the answer was 'of course not, it is our community, these are our neighbours, we know them and they know us'.
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