Teaching fraternity falls apart as pupils hold sway
WHEN I started teaching in 1959, it was normal for teachers to exchange stories about lessons taught. It was a form of reflection. Anecdotes were exchanged, and we shared the successes we enjoyed. We also discussed ways to improve or to avoid shaky performances.
It is a sad truth that teachers today fill their break-time recounting the horrors that beset the profession.Children are no longer obedient or responsive. They are lawless, protected by a Department of Education that is more inclined to favour the child over the teacher in situations that break down. We accept that the primary didactic imperative is pedocentricity, that is, child-centred.
The constitution of our new republic seems to have redefined that word as meaning child-power. Teachers struggle to hold sway in the class. The child is fully aware that punitive measures are discouraged. Corporal punishment has been banned. The teacher’s moral template lies in tatters as children are forgiven for unacceptable bad behaviour. The principal becomes a victim of his inclination to maintain order and discipline.
The authorities do not protect him when individuals make media events of internal problems. Teachers are victims of violence from the children they are expected to educate. The violence occurs inside and outside the class. It is laughable to recall that in my day, when I told a youngster to jump, his only option was to ask, “How high, sir?” Try that party-trick today, and watch the tsunami of wrath and attrition from Sadtu, Wectu, Ubuntu, soentoe, hientie en daantoe that will engulf the poor teacher.
A nation can be judged on how it treats its greatest treasure, the child. We weep for the escalating violence that innocent pre-school children suffer in our streets and homes. At the same time, our schoolgoers are morphing into gangs and defiance clusters. How can a teacher, or parent, find reconciliation between these two horrid extremes?
Teacher-talk these days is a resigned acceptance that the situation is out of control. Teachers discuss severance packages and count days to retirement. They spend a fortune on tranquillisers, sedatives, sleeping tablets to help them recover from the ravages of the school day. Then they gulp vitamin tablets and immune boosters to give them the fuel for the next day.
How can meaningful service be rendered under such horrific conditions? The energy expended on trying to maintain the most basic of decencies is lacerating. We have a teaching fraternity that is frayed and falling apart. We know what is wrong, but the authorities that should strengthen us are more concerned with appearing correct in the eyes of the public. I would ask a question: When did the constitution replace Holy Writ? When did this fractured diplomacy replace trust and authority that is so essential to teaching?