Of high schools and speeches

I have a “thing” about high schools and speeches. I was 25 when I first had my invitation to speak in a high school commencement exercise. For someone who has always been late for all her graduation ceremonies, this was quite a shock to me. I mean, this was the part that I always missed for one reason or the other. I can’t recall a single thought from my high school nor my college graduation. I once attended a commencement exercise where we invited a high profile man to deliver the commencement speech. It was my first time to be on time. It was not my graduation but someone else’s. And boy, that man went on and on and on and on and on. Most of the audience slept. So in general I do not have faith in speeches. And yes, high school kids scare me. So those two together equals bad news for me. But as volunteers I’m sure you know how we are called upon to assume a multiple of roles…carpenter, editor, janitor, driver, facilitator and what have you. Just as a though I was having it easy here in Johannesburg doing the “behind the scenes work” for my local NGO, my colleague decided to put me on the spot! The invitation was so casually delivered that I said yes before I realized that she tricked me into going around high schools with her to talk about one of our flagship programmes. Annually we have the “Best Fathers Competition” where girl children between the ages of 12-17 are requested to write essays on why they think their fathers are the best. Girls who are unable to enter their biological fathers for the competition for various reasons, were at liberty to enter any male relative or community member that plays a role of being a father figure for them. South Africa is a very beautiful country but it is not a secret that gender based violence here is quite high. Women and girls are exposed to sexual violence in a home, at school and in the community. Media reports always focus on the negative things that take place in the community e.g rape, incest, femicide etc. My NGO is of the opinion that positive stories need to be highlighted to create positive role modeling in our communities. The Best Fathers’ Competition with the theme: “Fathers are parents too” is one way of highlighting positiveness that takes place in our communities which often go on unnoticed or unrecorded. The project started in 2006 and it is growing more and more popular each year. This year we just came up with an anthology of winning essays from 2007 and 2008. The book launching was quite a success. The sight of teary-eyed fathers basking in the warmth of their daughter’s glowing essays was very moving. So for 2009 we said we want all high schools around Alexandra Township to really send in entries. But first let me tell you about Alex. I’ve come to love Alexandra since I started working here last March. I guess I kind of grown on people, too, since they are all very kind to me especially those who knew my local NGO. They still call me “China” wherever I go despite the fact that I am not Chinese. I got tired of explaining geography and the difference between a Chinese and a Filipino that I sort of just adopted the code name. “Alex” as it is locally known was established in the early part of the last century (c.1912) and grown rapidly as a township attracting people seeking a place to live close to employment opportunities in the city of Johannesburg . It is often referred to as the “arrival station” for local migrants and foreigners in search of job opportunities in the nearby affluent communities of Sandton and Johannesburg commercial business district. Because of its proximity to the city centre of Johannesburg, increasing numbers of rural migrants and refugees have come to live in Alex. Alex is also referred to as the land of opportunity. Most people do not pay for rent, water and electricity and they can go on foot to find employment in nearby commercial centers. Market price of basic commodities especially food supply is also relatively cheaper in Alex. The informal settlements also make it attractive for illegal migrants to settle in until something better comes along. As a result there is serious overcrowding of people living in shacks, with poor access to clean running water. In 2004 it was estimated that as many as 81,000 people were crammed in a square kilometer and with increasing immigrants this figure is likely to have risen in recent years. Overcrowding, poverty and unemployment lead to tensions and Alex was one of the first communities in South Africa where xenophobic clashes and killings of foreign nationals and some South Africans occurred in May 2008. Despite all these, Alex has a very colorful history. And despite these problems, it is one of the happiest places I’ve ever been. There is an overwhelming sense of community and fellowship. Once the locals accept you, you are in one of the safest places in the world. Woven into its fabric are the likes of Nelson Mandela, who once took up residence in Alex when he first arrived in Johannesburg. And now we go back to my dilemma… My colleagues and I were to go to schools, speak in the general assemblies and then engage students in their respective classrooms for a more in depth discussion of the Best Fathers Competition. Sounds simple, huh? Not so! Students in South Africa are quite different. This sector was actually instrumental in starting the revolution to overthrow the apartheid government in the late 70s and early 80s. The Soweto high school students were the first ones to demand for change in government after being fed up with the inferior Bantu education. There are so much still to be done to improve the education system and to give the government some credit, people are really trying. But for people hungry for change, delays equal big time disillusionment. Some of the schools I’ve visited were in disarray and the security wires around the campus felt like one was in prison instead of an institution of learning. Security guards look like bouncers. They are not there to keep intruders out but to make sure students stay inside. So our team really prepared for “battle” when we rolled out our campaign for the competition. Clad in colourful T-shirst and caps and armed with booklets and a prayer, we started our “gig”. I’ve never felt so intimidated in my life…and I’m used to handling masteral students in a programme I was managing back home. But these high school kids, they made me stammer. Going into those rooms, you see the challenge and doubt in their eyes and you just want to disappear. For my first two classrooms, students were yelling at each other, airplane papers were zooming overhead, girls were painting their nails and the hapless teacher was collaring two boys who were at each other’s throats. I thought the scene was straight out of a Hollywood movie. I stood in front and said my greetings. I was ready to give my spiel about the competition when this 6-footer boy towered over me and said “Why is this competition only for girls? What about us? Why don’t you stop talking and I’ll buy you a drink.” Then the whole class seemed to be dancing, laughing and hooting at the same time. Some started throwing potato chips. I looked to my colleague to rescue me. She started yelling but that didn’t help. In the end, we hurriedly went out and told the teacher we’ll come back some other time. Thinking back to my high school days, I suddenly have more respect for my teachers. The second room was better. They didn’t throw anything. They just didn’t say anything either. Like there was a conspiracy to engage us in a staring match. Suffice it to say, my team lost that one. It was on the 5th classroom when at last I saw a flicker of light in an otherwise very dark tunnel. Finally, perhaps because it was almost time to go home and they were tired, they actually listened and asked questions relevant to the competition. By the end of the day, the whole team was dead tired. Things get better with practice they say. Experience is the best teacher. That was my baptism of fire but the next school was easier. After three schools, I guess one gets the hang of it. It helps that I grew up with three brothers and a bunch of rowdy cousins. Nothing much shocks me when it comes to pranks and attention seeking tactics. I used to do my fair share of it when I was young so in a way, these high school kids and myself have a shared “experience”. I actually have a grudging respect for their spirit. I know deep down once someone breaks through their walls of indifference, wonderful things can happen. There is intelligence behind their nonchalance. Then came the entry boxes from the schools. We never expected such response. And we were surprised at the unveiling of emotions, of hurts, of honest fears and then of dreams, of hopes…Perplexed, one of my colleagues actually asked, “Is this from the same school were those kids were throwing chips?” They may look and act like hooligans but underneath, those students have something awesome to express and to share. Give them an opening, and they will change the world. I’m sure they’ll be ready to go the distance…go all the way. I was walking in the township the other day when I heard someone yelling “China! China!” By default, that is my name here. There was a group of high school boys. I recognized the 6-footer boy who tried to stare me down during our classroom discussions. “Oh no, “ I though to myself. I was prepared to be the butt of his joke again and was thinking of a proper rebuttal. But what is this? As arrogantly as before, he casually sauntered towards me. “Why haven’t you gone back to my school? Where are ‘em forms that you were givin away? Do you tutor kids?” And will wonders never cease….