When Things Get Physical

Today (8/29) I had a physical altercation with a learner, and it has shaken me. I was not hurt except for a scratch across my hand, but I still feel like something was taken from me. I'm not sure if I feel like I lost a little peace of mind, or if I actually feel unsafe at the moment, but whatever it is made me seriously consider going home for the first time in a very long time. I think sometimes being in a position of power over someone, like a teacher over their students, can give you a sense of security and maybe that is what I lost today, my sense of security in my school.

During a test today in my grade 6 class I caught one of the older boys cheating by using his phone as a calculator. My policy in class is that if you are caught cheating I take your paper and make you start over. In this case I was also taking his phone because my school has very strict policies about no phones at school. When I approached him and asked for his phone he hesitated. I expected this because I had dealt with this issue before. Learners are very hesitant to give up their phones, which I find amusing because it’s not like I'm just going to change my mind and walk away if they don’t give it to me the first time that I ask. After the third time that I demanded he hand over his phone he finally complied. I then went to remove his paper, and that’s when things got difficult. At my school kids write tests in specific books because making copies with enough room to show your work is expensive, so what I have done in the past when kids cheat is I rip out the page they are writing on, and then allow them to start over on the next page. This boy however decided that wasn’t going to happen. With his phone and book held in my left hand I attempted to rip out his page with my right hand, which is when he grabbed me. Apparently he thought that it would be okay for him to grab my right arm to stop me from removing the page, and then shove me away while trying to take his phone and book back from my left hand. In order to right myself and get the kid off of me I pushed back and was finally able to free my arm when he stumbled back into his desk. I was able to maintain my hold on his belongings, but received a nice scratch across my hand in the process. At that point I was livid, and will admit I imagined taking him by the arm and throwing him face down against the desk in a “you don’t know who the hell you are messing with” kind of way. Unfortunately in a class of 50 learners that didn’t seem appropriate, not to mention this kids is as big as I am and probably a lot stronger, so I'm sure it wouldn’t go as smoothly as I planned it in my head.

Instead I took him and his phone to the office so that the head of my department could deal with him. While I knew that it probably meant he would get the stick, I just didn’t know what else to do with him, because nothing I'm doing seems to make a difference to these older boys. My HOD then apparently handed the boy off to my principal who gave him a warning and then sent him back to class. A warning? Are you F***ING kidding me?! Of all the times this kid deserved a warning, this was not it! Give him a warning when he is late to school for the 10^th time this month. Give him a warning when he doesn’t stop talking during class no matter how many times you speak to him. Don’t give him a warning when he tries to forcefully keep a teacher from taking his phone and book away after he was caught cheating. This is not the time to hand out a pass, this is the time to do something!!! And to make matters worse, I still had another hour of class with grade 6 today. Once a week I get the privilege of having two hours a day with both of my classes, and today just happened to be my day with grade 6 twice.

When I had finally calmed down enough to not see red, the boy came to apologize to me. He had tried to come earlier but I had sent him away because I was still too angry to hear it and hadn’t decided how I wanted to handle things with him yet. In the time it took me to somewhat calm down I realized that the reason I was so angry was because I felt violated in a sense. Was I hurt, no, but did I feel like my authority and status as a teacher was challenged, absolutely. I felt like I had come to Africa to do something good, to help people that wanted my help, and I felt like this kid just threw that back in my face. He is only one of a hundred learners, but the fact that he was willing to go that far over the line made me feel like being here meant nothing. After almost 14 months away from everything I’ve ever known, that hurt. So when my learner made his way back to apologize I wasn’t hearing it. As he stood with me outside repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again I just didn’t believe it, and I still don’t. I’ve spent three full terms accepting this kid’s apologies for his bad behavior, but today he crossed a line with me and I don’t believe he is sorry at all. Do I feel bad for him, yes, because I know he has had a hard life. At the age of 15 he has lived through the death of both of his parents and is being raised just by his grandmother, but I am past the point of letting him use that as an excuse for his behavior. Was it a little bit heart breaking watching him cry after I asked if he would have ever put his hands on his mother like he did to me, absolutely, but at the same time I see this as his last chance. I told him he has until the end of the year to prove to me that he is actually sorry for what he did. He has until December 6^th to show me through his behavior that he regrets treating me the way he did. I think it is about time that someone held these kids accountable for their behavior and forced them to change for the long run. Warnings and beatings are only temporary, and those are obviously not teaching these kids anything. 

How I Would Want My Parents to React

What would you do if you saw your daughter being carried home between two of her teachers? Would you panic and go rushing up to help, would you freak out and call 911, or would you casually sit down on the porch and ask how the teacher’s day is going? If you think that last option sounds crazy I would agree with you, but that is exactly how one of my learner’s mother reacted last week (8/9). On Tuesday of last week one of my grade 5 learners had a seizure while on her way to the pit latrine at school. I happened to be sitting in the staff room when a learner came to inform the teachers that a girl was “sleeping” by the toilet. Of course the only words I really understood in Xhosa were girl and toilet, so I had no idea what was happening when two of the teachers angrily left the staff room. A few minutes later though, I watched as they basically dragged this poor girl into the building while she was seizing and drooling all over. After working in a nursing home during college I felt that I had enough medical knowledge to assist the other teachers, so I got up to help. Turns out their idea of taking care of this girl was laying her on her back on the floor in an empty office, shoving a spoon in her mouth and then leaving. I was shocked to say the least, and decided that I would take it upon myself to make sure the girl didn’t swallow her tongue or hurt herself so I held her on her side for the next hour all alone. Occasionally my head of department (HOD) would come in and ask if she could be moved yet, but once she realized she was still having spasms she would close the door and leave again.

           

When the poor girl was finally still my HOD decided it was time to take her home. Not take her to a hospital or a clinic, just home. Another teacher helped me pick her up and transport her to a car, and then we drove her through the bumpy dirt roads to her hut up in the village. When we got to her small house we carried her to the house while my HOD went ahead to inform the mother that we were bringing her daughter home early. When we finally made it around to the front the mom was casually sitting on the front steps while her daughter was propped up between me and another teacher, and kind of looked like she was died. Her mom never even got up. She just pointed to the room to the right and asked that we lay her down in there. When I was done positioning her in the bed I went out to join the other teachers and try to explain why her daughter needed to see a doctor. She said some things in Xhosa that I of course didn’t understand, and then we were leaving my learner in the care of her seemingly unconcerned mother. To be honest, I was a little pissed. When we got back to the car I asked my HOD if the mom was going to take the girl to the clinic. Turns out the mom had said that my learner had been having seizures on and off recently ever since she had been raped a few weeks before. I guess at this point I shouldn’t be surprised by the lack of concern shown for this little girl, but I was still shocked that no one seemed to be remotely worried about what was going on with this learner, both physically and emotionally.

        

Two days ago she had another seizure. The same thing happened. I stayed with her alone in the empty office until she stopped seizing. We basically carried her home, and then left her all alone with a drunken old man, because he was the only one home. I don’t even know if he was part of the family, or if he just happened to be at the house when we showed up. I tried to talk to the teachers about how she really needed to see a doctor, but they seemed disinterested. They told me that the only way that the family would be forced to take her to the doctor was if a social worker got involved. Unfortunately my school was unwilling to call a social worker because “it’s not their place”. It seems like there is some unwritten rule around here that teachers and schools turn a blind eye to problems at home because kids are at the bottom of the totem pole in this culture.

To say that I am struggling with the callousness of the staff at my school and the learner’s family would be an understatement.  I can’t help thinking about how I would want my parents to react if I was in that girl’s situation. When I was her age it was always a big deal when I was sick. My mom would make me tea while I watched Beauty and the Beast in her room, my dad would take me to school with him so he could keep an eye on me and I wouldn’t have to be alone. If I had a seizure I would have expected a little bit of panic followed by a speedy trip to the hospital and then at least a week of being smothered with concern. I would even expect some of that from my teachers. It is hard to come from a culture that puts so much emphasis on the importance of children and then see how little children are valued here. I am keeping my fingers crossed that eventually someone will take her to the clinic and that she will be able to get some physical and emotional support. This is one of those times that being able to speak fluent Xhosa would be really helpful.

(Month Later Update: The girl has not had another seizure during school in the last four weeks. Her grandmother came to visit and apparently forced the girl’s mother to take her to the clinic to be checked by the doctor. Since then she has been doing much better at school and seems to be getting more social in my class (which is not always great while I am teaching, but I am happy to see). Hopefully as time goes on she will continue to improve.)