The Parent Trap

Even after having been in South Africa for more than 18 months, I still am left open-mouthed and on the verge of tears at the tragedies occurring here, especially to children.  We started our school year on Wednesday (South Africa’s school year runs from January to December), and I wanted to make a concerted effort to get to know my learners.  From my experience, the more you know about a person, the better you can understand them and, in my case, the better you can help/teach them.

For this reason, in class today, I handed out a sheet titled “About You” in which I asked for various pieces of information such as the learner’s name, surname, date of birth, address, hobbies, etc.  My class period occurred right after lunch break, so when I entered the room to begin the lesson, only 13 out of 25 learners were present.  One of the things I work very hard to teach the learners, aside from my economics lessons, is punctuality and the inappropriateness of “African time” in regards to school, business, and appointments.  I, thus, have a policy that if you are not in the classroom when I begin teaching, the door is closed and you have to wait outside until my period is over.  That, of course,  meant that almost half the class was kept outside.  Harsh?  Yes, but it’s only the second day, and I know will they come around.

Anyways, I spoke to the 13 learners present about what I expected from them and what they could expect from me.  I then spoke a bit about how they needed to already be looking ahead to the year-end exam and making plans as far as further education and careers (I teach grade 12s).  I felt the session went very well, and at the end of the period, I collected the “About You” papers, returning to my office with a good feeling about my learners and the upcoming year.

Later in the afternoon, I sat down and began reading the learners’ information and entering some of it into my computer.  It was then that I was confronted with the full gravity of the situation facing my learners and the community where I work.  On the “About You” sheet, I had put lines for the learners to list their parents’ names, phone numbers, and jobs.  I was aware that some would be without parents, so I had also added another line asking who they lived with and the contact information of this person as well.  Like I said, though, even though I’ve been around it for 18 months, and know that it occurs, the sheer numbers were mind-blowing.

Of the 13 learners that I collected sheets from, 9 (69%) listed no father.  Of these, 5 (38%) also listed no mother.  From their comments, I know for a fact that 2 of the learners who did not list any parents, are orphans.  It is likely that the other missing fathers and mothers have also passed away, though it is also possible that the children were simply abandoned, which is especially prevalent with fathers.  Whatever the case, of my 13 young men and women, only 4 (31%)  have both parents alive and are in contact with them, and only 2 (15%) actually live with those parents.  All the other 11, live with their single mother, an aunt, an uncle, a grandmother, or a grandfather.  Of course, making extrapolations based on a sample size of 13 is not the most responsible of statistics, but I think anyone living in South Africa can tell you that those numbers are indicative of a large part of South Africa's population.

Now I’m not an incredibly emotional guy, but seeing numbers like that made me want to cry and punch a wall, all at the same time.  It is just difficult for me to fathom that so many of these kids are being deprived of a father and mother, and of the love, support, and stability that such an arrangement provides.  I have not seen my mom or dad in person for 18 months, but I have at least been able to talk to them by phone and see them by Skype many times during that period.  I have at least had the chance to know them and be cared for by them throughout my entire life.  I honestly cannot think of myself or who I would be without my parents.

That’s why it angers me that so many of these kids, through no fault of their own, have had these circumstances forced upon them.  They had and have no choice in the matter.  They simply have to make do with the situation.  This, of course, is by no means an emotion unique to me.  It is something I have heard echoed by several other of the American volunteers.  One even made some interesting comments (I might not be getting these entirely correct, and my apologies if that is the case) to the effect that he had always been somewhat suspicious of people who were outspoken about the importance of the nuclear family, as it seemed to be a judgment and criticism of single moms.  Having been here, though, and seen the effects of so many broken families, he said that he realized how much marriage and its role in child-raising serves to preserve a stable, successful society.

The thing that makes it all the worse is that it doesn’t have to be like this.  Even if a person is HIV-positive, if he/she gets tested and knows his status, he/she can take drugs called Anti-Retrovirals (ARVs) that help keep the virus at bay and allow most people to live long, fruitful lives.  Unfortunately, because of the stigma of HIV, many just never get tested, and then die young from “unknown causes”.  Secondly, even if a person does have a child unexpectedly or out-of-wedlock, that does not have to prevent him/her from still taking an active role in that child’s life.  Parentage should entail some amount of responsibility whether we like it or not.

The funny thing is that even though the learners I work with sometimes annoy and frustrate me to no end, I am still sometimes in awe at their ability to cope and survive in such horrid circumstances.  True, many of them have never known anything else, so it might not be quite the herculean task that an outsider sees it as.  Regardless, though, life in a township is not easy for ANYONE, and certainly not for a young man or women who has lost his mother and father, or maybe never even knew them.  For the sheer fact that they continue to get up every day and live their lives, I salute them. 

They just better be on time to class.