‘Now you are just being provocative,’ I told her ‘you were very emphatically told by President Zuma some time ago that whites love their pets more than they love people.’
I was referring to the ANC rally where Zuma was drumming up support from the party faithful by saying that it was un-African to feed, care for and walk pet dogs – like white people supposedly do.
‘Absolute nonsense,’ was her retort, ‘unless he is referring to loving pets more than husbands.’
Knowing that this discussion was heading for the cliff edge, I put down my dish cloth and went out to mow the lawn.
Household domestic duties could not stop me thinking of why Zuma would make that comment. This comment evoked a similar reaction amongst dog lovers as the indignant response from Malawians when they heard his disparaging remarks on their roads.
Whatever the protestations afterwards from government spokesmen, it is undeniable that twenty years after our first democratic election we are still poles apart in understanding and appreciating other cultures within our country. Mac Maharaj was quoted by the BBC as saying ‘…the essential message from the president was the need to decolonise the African mind, post-liberation, to enable the previously oppressed African majority to appreciate and love who they are and uphold their own culture.’
If that is what he really intended – and I have no beef with that sentiment - then I just wish he made similar comments to appreciate the culture of all South Africans.
Everyone who has had to sit over the years through my history classes will remember the feisty debates we used to have about why wars start. ‘There is no problem with patriotism,’ I used to pronounce, ‘but it is when you deny the other chap the right to be patriotic and love his country just as much you love yours, that the trouble starts.’
It is only right and proper for all Wynberg boys to stand up and vehemently espouse the good qualities of the House they belong to at school. It is only correct and appropriate – indeed expected – that they do the same when it comes to their School. ‘Cheer for Wynberg as loudly and as long as you like,’ I tell them over and over again in assembly, ‘but never, ever, ever run down, demean or jeer the opposition. ’
I remind them that the same sentiment must be extended to other religions and cultural groups. ‘If you have to run down – or point an accusatory finger - at a boy from another house, school, race group, religion or country – then you are merely pointing three fingers back at yourself . You are weakening your own position.’
Being a sporting spectator, or a cerebral historian or a loyal Wynbergian also demands that we appreciate and acknowledge when others do well. Thus I found it hard to understand when Michael Gove, Minister of Education in the UK, pronounced recently that pupils in England should only study English authors and that American authors such as Steinbeck, Harper Lee and F Scott Fitzgerald were to be ditched.
Now that is not my idea of education. Someone who is truly well educated should be taking the best from all cultures and then deciding what is best for him. In my book it is as fitting for a black South African to own a dog and read Great Gatsby as it should be for a white teenager to read Chinua Achebe’s ‘Things Fall Apart’ or Wally Serote’s struggle poetry.
Harper Lee might well have been American, but her writing is timeless and crosses all age groups, continents and cultural groups. Atticus’ advice to his daughter should be written on every classroom wall in every school in every country. When our youth learn that – then true transformation will start taking place in our country.
The harsh lesson which all South Africans have had to learn the hard way – is that our job in schools is to educate all pupils together, not segregate them. Real education takes place when issues are vigorously debated, robustly questioned and forcefully probed. How is it possible to do that in homogenous groups where all think in a similar fashion? Over the last fifty years, Cape Town youth have developed a reputation for being willing to question and engage on political and educational issues. Cape Town schools have produced Andrew Feinstein (Wynberg), Jeremy Cronin (St Josephs), Ashley Kriel (Bonteheuwel High), Jonathan Jansen (Steenberg High), Zackie Achmat (Salt River High) and thousands of others with the courage of their convictions.
Our big challenge in South African schools, since 27 April 1994, it to preserve worthwhile traditions while continuing to ensure progress by moving with the times.
Years of segregation ensured that we started off in 1994 on the back foot. I remember a discussion at a Ladies’ Association when schools were first opened to all young South Africans. ‘What is halaal?’ asked one of the mothers, whose job it was to organise boerewors rolls at rugby matches on Saturdays.
Another mother responded: ‘I think it is when you have no butter on the rolls.’
I think we have moved forward since those days – but the point still remains that far more sensitivity is needed before we can say that we are definitely transforming as a school and as a society. It will need continued effort to understand the different realities of our varied backgrounds and not to be restrained by stereotypes or ignorance.
I once heard Dr Max Price, vice-chancellor of UCT, give a talk where he commented on how difficult it must be for a student from a rural area to come to UCT and identify with the colonial style buildings, European academic traditions and the different cultures.
The challenge for a school like ours is, how can we be elite without being elitist? We are proud to be called ‘Elite’ because it is not a pejorative term. It implies striving for high standards where our pupils are learning and growing and being educated for life after school.
Elitistism, however, is the favouring of one group over another and is not a term with which we particularly want to be associated. It was with this in mind that we asked the prefects a few years back to come up with what they thought was the ‘Brand’ of Wynberg. After much discussion, debate and argument in their tutor groups, they came up with five points. ‘One for every finger of the hand,’ said one of them – and the idea stuck.
The ‘pinkie’ was the first finger and named ‘Friendliness’.
The second finger was designated ‘Manners’.
The dignified central finger was given the honour of ‘Pride’.
The forefinger always pointed up and so was labelled ‘Aim High’.
The strongest digit, the thumb, carried the school motto ‘Supera Moras: ‘Never Give Up’.
These virtues are timeless and cross-cultural. If embraced whole-heartedly, they will certainly enable us to produce worthwhile citizens who can help to transform society so that we can feel proud of who we are but at the same time are totally accepting that everyone else has just as much right to be as proud of who they are.
Nick Martin, Head Prefect of 2012, intuitively summed it up in his inaugural speech to the school at the Prefect Induction:
OUR BLAZERS: The Fabric that Binds us
OUR MOTTO: The Words that Remind us
OUR PASSION: The Force that Drives us
OUR BROTHERHOOD: The Difference that Defines us.
Nick understood the true meaning of transformation. He understood that we are all different – but that at the same time, we are interdependent.
We are Brothers in an Endless Chain.
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