South African teachers living in London love to tell horror stories about their experience of working in inner city schools. The children, they say, are lacking in social skills — they are rude, obnoxious and impolite. They ignore you when you speak to them and chatter constantly, cussing and teasing each other at every possible moment, sometimes sizing each other up, occasionally even fighting.
This is particularly true of supply teaching — which is substituting for absent teachers — where your position as a transient non-entity in the children’s eyes makes you an easy target for their suspicious antipathy for strangers. But it can be just as difficult, and more stressful, if you have managed to procure a permanent position at one of these schools.
And yet, despite all this, more and more South African teachers are taking up permanent positions around London. The most obvious reason for this is the money. People are prepared to put up with a lot when the money they are earning, when converted into our own soft currency, translates into a massive amount. Even in London it allows one to live better than they would in South Africa. And it is the reason a great deal of teachers come over in the first place. Paying off a mortgage or debts, saving up on a house deposit or even a complete down-payment is pretty simply done after a small amount of time here. However, although it may be why a lot of teachers come to London, more and more are finding it very attractive to stay.
One of the most important reasons for this are the chances of promotion and the earning potential that is derived merely by staying in the same position. English teacher’s pay increases year on year for about eight years until they reach a threshold. If you are successful at a certain exam, you can enter a managerial position where pay will begin to increase at a much faster rate.
But even a junior teacher who has not crossed this threshold can earn management points by doing extra around the school, like taking responsibility for putting displays up around the school.
There is also extra money for heads of subjects, as well as the second in charge. That’s not to mention the five or six other levels of management.
For the post-1994 generation of teachers in South Africa, who have seen the eradication of gradation, all this makes teaching here very attractive. After seven years of teaching in South Africa I was earning the same as a first year teacher fresh out of university. I ran several activities for which I wasn’t paid a penny. Our head of English at this same school had once been a principal and yet he was being paid the same as me.
The outlook for advancement looked bleak. My wife and I feared having to bring up a baby on our dismal salaries even when we combined them.
And, truth be told, I was sometimes embarrassed to tell people I was a teacher. The response was often disdainful, as if teaching isn’t really a profession but more of a dead-end option for those who can’t cut it in the real world.
That just isn’t the case out here in England. In fact there are large numbers of successful young executives who have decided that the rat race is too much and have packed it all in to become educators. There is often a sense of teaching being something inspirational, a profession that is appreciated and respected.
Of course, it’s very difficult to change the perceptions of a society. But one way is to treat teachers as if they are valued. And that includes remunerating educators for the extraordinary responsibilities they carry out in their professional life.
As it stands, any South African who lives in London will think twice before they decide to come home — even if they are shocked at the aberrant behaviour of some of the children here. This is simply because they won’t have to struggle so hard to make ends meet, and society treats them with the respect they deserve. A huge crisis looms on the South African horizon and it is time our government stand up and take notice.