Edward Homu High School

I went, as promised, to the high school today. It was an interesting
experience, full, as is typical of Peace Corps, of surprises, both
frustrating and uplifting.

I was supposed to meet initially with the principal, but she had to
leave before I arrived so I began with speaking to the deputy
principal, who is a bit of a blowhard. According to him, the big
thing I could help with to improve the school was to build
administrative offices, and maybe help refurbish the classrooms. And
his church would like a well. Every time I tried to bring up HIV/AIDS
or the learners in the school, we kept going back to the well.

However, after speaking to him, I got to talk with another administrator about the teenage pregnancy rate (high). She mentioned the stereotype of girls wanting the government grants that go along with single motherhood, but interestingly, she thought that social pressure, particularly from parents and the initiation ceremonies, played a larger role. The principal also arrived in time for me to meet her. After introductions (I think she was predisposed to like me since I defied her expectations and was able to pronounce her name, which I unfortunately now forget), we had the following exchange:

Her: Ah, you are a woman. I did not know that.

Me: Yup, I am.

Her: Ah, that is good. Women, they do their best to achieve what
they say they are going to, and they succeed.

Me: And men don't?

Her: (shakes head): No.

Considering her deputy principal, I can see where she's coming from. She thinks the high dropout rate has a lot to do with parental involvement, ie the lack thereof.

I then went to observe a couple of classes. The classes were crowded,
with perhaps seventy people in the eight grade room I was in. The
second class I watched was grade twelve, and by then there were only
twenty-five learners. After the first class, I went into about a
dozen (no exaggeration) classes looking for one with a teacher so that
I could actually watch a class rather than babysit one, and found no
one; between understaffing and teachers out sick, less than half the
classes were staffed.

I was surprised at how poor the English of most of the learners was. The curriculum is supposed to be taught in English because the national test, matric, is administered in English. However, as I discussed with one of the teachers after school was out for the day, English in the classes is very poor, much poorer than it was in the Bakenburg schools (also village schools) I visited during training. Even the smartest kid in the world won't be able to matric is he or she doesn't understand the language the test is given in.

The teacher I was talking to also wanted to know about schools in the US: he was surprised to learn that some of them have even worse problems than they do in South Africa--dilapidated schools, no teachers, no enthusiasm, poor language, skills, high dropout and teen pregnancy rates, plus violence and drugs--and that there's poverty in the US.


Whatever problems the schools have, there is at least one that none of the faculty mentioned today. Teachers are much quicker to condemn students than to praise them, and often worry more about the facilities than the curriculum. Many teachers are shuffled around classes and never get to know their pupils because of staffing shortages, and many much interest in the subject they teach or passion for their profession. High school is boring enough under the best of circumstances; indifferent teachers and poor prospects are an unfortunate combination.

I know there are exceptions, and some of the teachers I spoke to
after the day was over seemed to have different attitudes, and I've
only been at the school half a day; I'm sure that the picture will
become more complicated as time goes on. I'm going back tomorrow.

I walked back with a guy named Chester in Grade 12, who seems both
smart and ambitious; his English is much better than the average, he
wants to know if I'm going to come talk to the school about studying
for their futures, and he wants to be a mechanical engineer. Talking
to him was an uplifting end to a sometimes frustrating day.