Achange is as good as a holiday, or so the cliché goes. But many people hate change because it means a break in routine and going head-first into the unknown.
A few years ago I decided to make a change that would alter my life. I had trained and qualified as a primary and high school teacher and had been teaching for years. But in 1996 I decided to switch to adult basic education and training (Abet).
I knew I was venturing into new territory and the experience was unnerving to say the least. I remember my first day. I found myself standing in front of a group of about 70 elderly people crammed into a big hall. It was such a large number, there was no way one person could have handled it. What made it even trickier was that we had to deal with adults, not primary school learners.
The first thing we did was to divide them into two manageable groups and partitioned the hall. We then started with numeracy and literacy classes. After a few days I realised that the numbers of learners in my class were starting to dwindle.
This went on for a while and it left me with a big headache. I could not figure out why people were leaving and it worried me sick. My self-esteem took a knock. I took it badly because it seemed to me that the learners were questioning my ability to teach. As it turned out, that’s exactly what they were doing.
This became clear after I poured my heart out to one of the experienced Abet teachers at the school. She advised me to look at my teaching methodology. I concluded that the learners felt alienated by my approach, which was still aimed at primary and high school learners. There and then I decided to change tack.
One of the first things I did was to change the seating arrangement for easier and greater interaction. Instead of standing in front and lording it over them, I got into the habit of chatting to them about simple issues, which helped to anchor my lessons on topics to which they could relate. They started to open up and became more participative. They also shared their perspectives.
They shared with me their expectations and objectives for attending the classes. For instance, one elderly man said he simply wanted to learn how to read his Bible. Some mothers said that because of poverty they needed simple rudimentary reading and writing skills so that they could start their own initiatives to help them survive.
As a result of this interaction, the centre introduced programmes that equipped the learners with relevant skills, such as how to draw up a budget and manage their own projects. Today our centre offers training in bricklaying, embroidery, welding and papier-mâché, to mention a few subjects.
Although the experience of having learners walk out on me was traumatic, in the long run I’m happy it happened because it forced me to improve myself. Thanks to the experience, today I am a qualified Abet teacher with a master’s degree. I might have been the teacher, but I also learned a great deal from the learners’ enriching experiences and wisdom.
Gladys Mokwena teaches at the DWT Nthathe Abet Centre in Winterveldt, Gauteng North. She was the runner-up in the category Excellence in Adult Basic Education in last year’s annual National Teaching Awards