<div dir="ltr"><br><div class=""><h1>Admissions judgment a victory for poor, black pupils</h1><div class=""><span class=""><a href="http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics">news/politics</a></span><span> / </span><div class=""><div class="">29 May 2016 at 10:41am</div></div></div><span class=""><i>By:</i><span> </span><b>Malaika wa Azania</b></span><div class=""><div itemprop="text"><p><strong>Denying
poor pupils access to quality education at former model-C schools would
condemn us to a life of servitude, writes Malaika wa Azania.</strong></p><p>A
week ago, the Gauteng Department of Education won an important victory
at the Constitutional Court. The court ruled in favour of the department
on the issue of School Admission Regulations. This victory means that
the department, and not schools, will have a final say in admission
processes at schools in the province.</p><p>The Federation of School
Governing Bodies had taken the department to court, arguing that the
current regulations disempower schools and that schools should be
allowed to set their own policies regarding admissions and language
policy.</p><p>On the question of language policy, the court ruled that
language policies that are set by School Governing Bodies (SGBs)
constitute indirect discrimination that is racial in character.</p><p>Handing
down the judgment, former Deputy Chief Justice Dikgang Moseneke (who
retired from the bench a few days ago) said that judges agreed
unanimously that because the department has an overall perspective on
education within the province, it should be in charge of admissions
processes.</p><p>This victory is personal to those of us who know too well the humiliation that some of the policies set by SGBs inflict.</p><p>In
2002, after completing my junior primary schooling at Tshimologo
Primary School, a township school in Meadowlands (Soweto) where I was
staying, my mother decided to send me to a multiracial school, Melpark
Primary School, in Melville.</p><p>My poor mother wanted me to have
quality education. The painful truth is that schools in many township
areas across the country don’t offer quality education.</p><p>The legacy
of an apartheid system where the state spent five times more money on
the education of a white child than on that of a black child continues
to find expression in township schools.</p><p>While there has been a
significant improvement in township education, the reality is that
former model-C schools are still far better in terms of infrastructure.</p><p>Going
to a former model-C school was thus an attempt on the part of my mother
to ensure that I stood a better chance of being accepted into a
reputable higher education institution - because another reality is that
universities in the country also perpetuate segmentation.</p><p>Most
universities, particularly historically white ones, have a preference
for students coming from multiracial former model-C schools. These
universities have feeder high schools from which they receive a sizeable
number of first-year students every year.</p><p>Because of their
language policy, many students from township and rural schools find
themselves having to do extended studies. This is based on the belief
that such students, having done vernacular as home language and English
as a first or second additional language, will not cope in university
and will therefore need an extra year added to their degree or diploma.</p><p>In
my book, Memoirs of a Born Free: Reflections on the Rainbow Nation, I
speak about the challenges black students face in multi-racial former
model-C schools. These challenges include racial discrimination and the
presence of institutional barriers such as language policy. But what I
don’t mention is the humiliation that one goes through even before being
admitted.</p><p>Because of the autonomy that SGBs have over admission processes, they have used their power to perpetuate exclusion.</p><p>The
rule that schools could only admit students living within a 5km radius
meant students living in townships could not access multi-racial former
model-C schools that are predominantly in white neighbourhoods.</p><p>Because
I didn’t live in Melville or the surrounding suburbs within a 5km
radius of the school, it was a given that I was not going to be
admitted, despite my outstanding academic achievements and capacity. My
mother had a friend, Aadilah, living close to the school, and asked her
to lie on our behalf, stating that I was living with her (the friend) in
Melville. Affidavits were signed. This was how I got admitted.</p><p>My
mother, a woman who has always taught me the importance of honesty and
integrity, was forced to lie for her daughter to receive quality
education.</p><p>My mother was one of many parents who had to go to such
great measures to get their children registered in schools that,
through policies like the ones the GDE was fighting against, would never
have opened doors of learning for us.</p><p>Supporters of such policies
argue that schools must give first preference to children living nearby
so that such children study closer to home. The benefit of this, it was
argued, is that schools would not have to deal with issues such as
late-comers and parents not attending meetings due to transport issues.</p><p>This
argument, which sounds reasonable, is in fact another way of saying
schools would not have to be actively engaged in the transformation
agenda.</p><p>The spatial injustice that characterises our country
demands the enactment of laws aimed at redressing injustices of the past
and fostering inclusion. How do schools become part of this agenda if
they’re going to insist on maintaining a status quo rooted in injustice
and discrimination?</p><p>Furthermore, this argument underestimates the commitment that students living in townships have towards their education.</p><p>In
all the years that I was at Melpark Primary School, I was late no more
than five times - and none of those times was because I had overslept
(my mother made sure I was up at around 4am every morning).</p><p>This
was because I understood that to get an education, I needed to make a
sacrifice. If that sacrifice meant being at the bus station at 6am, I
was willing to make it. As were thousands of other students in Soweto
who, as early as 5am, would be seen in queues waiting for trains, taxis
and buses to take them to school.</p><p>To understand how problematic
this 5km radius rule was, you need to understand that its impact was
long-term and systematic. It not only meant that only white children and
children of black upper middle class parents who lived in these
suburbs could access these better schools.</p><p>It also meant these
were the children who would later get places at reputable institutions
of higher learning and, by implication, better chances of employment
after graduation. The admission policy thus perpetuated and strengthened
the segmentation of the South African society.</p><p>It would be a
serious indictment on our government to allow policies that exclude
people on the basis of their class background to find expression,
particularly in public institutions.</p><p>Poor working-class black
people have been dehumanised by this brutal system for far too long. And
because we have nothing else, education is our only key out of poverty
and disenfranchisement. To take away access to quality education from us
is to condemn us to a life of servitude.</p><p>It is for this reason
the victory of the GDE is not just a victory for the struggle for
transformation and spatial justice, but a victory for the future of
black people and indeed, of South Africa.</p><p>* Wa Azania is a student at Rhodes University, and author of Memoirs of a Born Free: Reflections on the Rainbow Nation.</p><p><a href="http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/admissions-judgment-a-victory-for-poor-black-pupils-2027575">http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/admissions-judgment-a-victory-for-poor-black-pupils-2027575</a><br></p></div></div></div><br clear="all"><br>-- <br><div class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">**************************************<br>N.b.: Listing on the lgpolicy-list is merely intended as a service to its members<br>and implies neither approval, confirmation nor agreement by the owner or sponsor of the list as to the veracity of a message's contents. Members who disagree with a message are encouraged to post a rebuttal, and to write directly to the original sender of any offensive message. A copy of this may be forwarded to this list as well. (H. Schiffman, Moderator)<br><br>For more information about the lgpolicy-list, go to <a href="https://groups.sas.upenn.edu/mailman/" target="_blank">https://groups.sas.upenn.edu/mailman/</a><br>listinfo/lgpolicy-list<br>*******************************************</div>
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