As we remember and honour the courage of the youth of 1976, we must also celebrate and support those who continue the struggle for justice and dignity in the classroom.
Youth month celebrates the activism of young people, but teachers have been organised activists since the Teachers League of South Africa was founded in 1913. It is time to acknowledge the role of teachers in building our nation
South Africa observes Youth month in June to honour the Soweto Uprising of 1976, when thousands of black learners courageously protested the apartheid government’s policy of enforcing Afrikaans as the medium of instruction in all schools. But the issues facing black learners began more than 20 years earlier.
The Bantu Education Act of 1953 introduced a deliberately inferior system of education for black people. This law was a key tool for the apartheid state, controlling the content and quality of education across racial lines. It prepared black learners for menial labour and subordinate roles in society, by reducing education to a handful of subjects such as needlework for girls, handcraft, planting, soil conservation, arithmetic and social studies, deliberately excluding more advanced or critical subjects.
Despite these oppressive systems, black and coloured teachers have resisted segregation since the early 1900s. They did so not only through protest and activism but also by serving as pillars of critical thinking, dignity and cultural resistance in their classrooms and communities. Teachers were seen as carriers of hope and social mobility.
Fast-forward 96 years, in the final year of my undergraduate studies in 2009, I volunteered with two afterschool programmes for primary school learners in Makhanda. Like many South Africans, I had read the shocking statistics about our country’s low literacy rates and the poor matric results that dominated headlines year after year — a hangover from apartheid. As I began working with learners in afterschool programmes, I realised that behind their smiling faces lay a real crisis. I saw first-hand how an inability to read kept children from learning new concepts, passing and succeeding at school.
One afternoon, I asked a group of grade 2 learners to write letters to their mothers for Mother’s Day. A little girl named Chandré asked me how to write the word love. I spelled it out and sounded it out phonetically. She looked at me with a blank stare. She had been in formal schooling for two years but could not recognise letters or sounds. At that moment, I knew I wanted to become a teacher.
Teaching holds a special place in my heart; I am a fourth-generation teacher. My great-grandfather, grandfather and mother all served in the profession until they retired. During my childhood I saw the effect they had on others’ lives. To this day, when I meet someone who attended Newell or Cowan high schools in New Brighton, Gqeberha, from 1959 to 1995 and I mention my grandfather, Frank Tonjeni, I hear stories of how he shaped lives and inspired futures. South African greats like John Kani, Dan Qeqe, Sipho Pityana, Reverend Makhenkesi Arnold Stofile, and many others walked the corridors of these schools in their day. Where school was meant to stifle them to fit a particular mould, they were nurtured and challenged.
Today, I lead a project that works with a network of change agent teachers who remind me of my grandfather. I see them take on roles beyond their job description: acting as social mothers and fathers, emotional lifelines and trusted adults for learners navigating the realities of inequality inside and outside classrooms.
Despite their essential role, the narrative about teachers has shifted, but not for the better. Teachers in South Africa often feel undervalued. While remuneration plays a part, value is also communicated in how we speak about teachers. It’s in the way parents frame educators to their children, in how we as society recognise or ignore their efforts.
In a 2022 study, eight out of 10 respondents said they did not feel connected to a wider movement for social change. We also found that teachers were strongly motivated by the idea of influencing learners in transformative and inspirational ways. In spite of this motivation, less than 50% of those surveyed felt supported in ensuring the holistic development of the children they teach.
As we remember and honour the courage of the youth of 1976, we must also celebrate and support those who continue the struggle for justice and dignity in the classroom. It’s time that we rally behind our teachers in a way that truly appreciates the value of the teaching profession. We need to support teachers in ways that translate both on the ground and at policy level.
Andisiwe Hlungwane is the project lead of Teachers CAN, a network of change agent teachers.