American student Amy Biehl’s death in 1993 at the hand of youth activists attending a political rally in the township of Guguletu had a profound impact on my teaching career.
At the time I was a young, newly married teacher employed in a temporary capacity hoping to land a permanent position.
The students charged with Biehl’s murder were from the local high school, Guguletu Comprehensive. The incident sent shockwaves through the community. It particularly affected the lives of two white, female Afrikaner educators who were employed as English and Afrikaans teachers.
The fear that Biehl’s death instilled in these two women led to their immediate resignations. Being an English and Afrikaans major, I took a bold step and jumped at the opportunity presented by the resultant vacancies. This was to be the beginning of my 10-year sojourn in township schools.
Entering into the realm of the unknown fuelled my initial trepidation. For someone who had never been to an African township, it was a culture shock. For years our communities had been living side by side but had been kept apart by apartheid.
I was told to report for work at 7.30am. Coming from a rigid and authoritarian school background, imagine my surprise when I pitched up at the school to find the gates locked. When the first teachers eventually started trickling into the school long after 8am, I was surprised to see that the staff comprised a microcosm of South African Society with all the race groups represented.
My first day did not last very long. By 10.30am I was already at home because a group of students from the Pan African Students Organisation (Paso) had organised a mass rally at the school that morning. The mood at the school was heady, violent and intoxicating. Teachers were dismissed early because of fears for the safety of white teachers. At the time moves were afoot by Paso to oust white teachers from township schools to make way for unemployed African teachers.
Common questions asked by many in my community at the time were: ‘What is it like teaching in a township school? Are you scared? How do you manage the language problem?”. I could understand why these people were so curious. I soon realised it was a case of ignorance of each other’s cultures. Some youth in the African townships would align themselves with radical political
organisations whereas youngsters in the coloured townships would turn to gangsterism as vehicles for their expressions.
I believe that all learners are essentially the same. As in all schools, one will find your fair share of bright sparks, average and weaker learners. But I found what sets most African children apart from other race groups is that they are much easier to discipline in the classroom.
Currently, I am head of department of English and Afrikaans at Masibambisane High School in Woodstock, Cape Town. After 12 years of teaching, I am still involved with teaching black African learners and sometimes still wonder where I would have been had it not been for that fateful day when Amy Biehl so tragically lost her life.