A Teacher's Travels & Search for Math/Science Theorems that aren't Named after White Men |
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A Teacher's Travels & Search for Math/Science Theorems that aren't Named after White Men |
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Dumilani. Mamuka tjini? This is a greeting in Ikalanga, a language spoken by the Bakalanga of Botswana and Zimbabwe. More on this language later. “But aren’t they being denied human rights?” I wrapped up last week still visiting at Tloga Tloga Junior Secondary School. I got to see a couple of math classes, eat lunch with students and comfort a crying kid who was being made fun of by his friends. I miss being in the lives of children directly some days. Class sizes at Tloga Tloga are pretty large, about 45 students per class, give or take a couple of learners. Almost all students are generally engaged, and yet, young people are young people everywhere and when cold called, “Ughh sorry. I wasn’t actually paying attention.” Classrooms are barren, desks are metallic and classrooms are packed. Sometimes a bright yellow bird might fly in for the lesson too. The teachers often have their backs turned to the class as they write notes, students frantically jot down without a needed reminder. I infer from the tear tracks and soaked tissue that the student I comforted, had tears and snot running down his face for quite awhile, before I came over to him as his teacher wrote integers on the dusty chalkboard. I asked if the boy, maybe 12 years old, wanted to talk to me. He initially said no until I placed my hand on his back. He then said, “Well ok. I found out my friends are making fun of my appearance behind my back.” This little boy had the charm and cute chubby cheeks, of that dependable friend sidekick in tween movies. I told him the other kids were some jealous haters. He didn’t understand what I meant by haters, so I told him they were just jealous because he was so handsome and intelligent. “You’re right.” I then did a breathing exercise with him, and he ensured me that he felt much better. The teacher finally noticed he was crying, came over to ask what was wrong, and he sat up almost immediately, “I’m fine, ma’am.” I then attended a moral education class of 15 and 16 year olds. The topics of the day were, capital punishment and the UN Declaration of Human Rights. In Botswana, capital punishment by hanging---students were able to state the exact measurements of the ropes used for hanging--- is still the law of the land for the most serious crimes. The teacher asked what my thoughts on capital punishment were, and I spoke honestly. I told the class I didn’t think that nations should be allowed to punish their citizens by killing them. She quickly told the class that capital punishment was used as a deterrent in Botswana, and then briefly mentioned the NGOs who rally against capital punishment in Bots, before quickly dismissing them as not understanding the need for the killings. The teacher then switched gears and began discussing the UN Declaration of Human Rights, a new topic for the day. Again, she recited the articles of the document and recorded them on the board for students to write down, while she elaborated on them. One of the articles is on the right of people to change nationalities. A student asked about Zimbabweans and why they can’t easily become Batswana. The teacher responded, “Zimbabwean men take advantage of Batswana women, and so they must wait 10 years.” A different student then asked, “Aren’t we denying their rights?” The teacher quickly responded with a smile, “No we are just delaying them.” For as much as I disagreed with this teacher on most things, she was an engaging lecturer and a lovely person with whom I had a cup of rooibos, the tea of choice in southern Africa, after class. “I love how Trump wants to introduce Christianity in schools.” Saturday, I was invited to go to the village of Ngwaketse with a teacher from Tloga Tloga, who runs a motivational speaking collective for students/schools who are struggling in their studies---at least that’s what I gathered. We left around 6:30am for the long drive, toward central Botswana, a beautiful, hilly, rural area, whose streets are populated with goats, donkeys and cows, and whose water streams are the beginning of the diamond mining district. We took a pickup truck with 6 of us crammed in the tight seats. The ride was going well, until one of the motivational speakers unasked, decided to share her opinion of Donald. “I think Trump is the best president you’ve had.” It’s 6:30am, and I hadn’t had coffee, so I chose my words carefully, as I know, you know, we all know, how I can get in a debate about which I feel strongly. I told her, “I disagree.” “From our perspective he’s great,” she responded. Another speaker in the car, an engineer, said, “No he doesn’t. He seems horrible and stupid.” “I agree.” I responded. The Donald fan then goes on to tell me that the reason she supports 45 is because he advocated for putting Christianity into schools. I then try and explain that technically the US is secular, meaning we have a separation of church and state because we are multicultural and multireligious. “As a Christian though, I believe that it’s important that we spread Christianity.” At this point I became a little frustrated, “But we have Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Sikh, Atheists, Scientists. They shouldn’t have to be exposed to something in which they don’t believe.” “I’m part of the missionary church. It is our job to show those people something else.” At that time I glued my eyes to my phone and opened up a Times crossword puzzle so that I wouldn’t go off in a cramped car, bumping up and down a dirt road. “Presentation Matters” When we finally reached the event, there were maybe about 150 teenage students in their uniforms sitting on plastic chairs under some trees in their school campus---school campuses are generally open because of the warm weather, students walk outside to classrooms. The motivational speakers took turns speaking to the students about study skills, grit, confidence, goal setting and taking pride in their school uniforms. Most of their presentations were in Setswana, despite the “English Speaking Zone,” signs I’ve seen at nearly every government school I’ve been to, but from what I could understand, the speakers’ rhetoric was very reminiscent of charter lingo. In fact, charterization and “network schools” that are for profit and operate like businesses, complete with Harvard educated MBAs, are spreading through South Africa, and perhaps other African countries. But, I did befriend a lovely, intelligent, inspiring 9 year old, named Botho. She added me on WhatsApp, and I hope to hear from her again. What’s the connection? There is an odd, sad, phenomenon happening, in which African schools still using a colonial system that was enforced on them, primarily a system that comes from the UK, but outdated, are now reliant on models from the west because African voices have been left out of any conversation around education innovations, in sharing best practices and in research on childhood development. The fact that I am one of only two who were sent to this entire continent as part of the Fulbright Distinguished Award in Teaching Program is problematic. So many Fulbright teachers were sent to Europe, perpetuating the myth and the lie that Europeans and European nations do things better than the rest (read: non-western, read: their former colonies). This bizarre obsession by America with how certain European countries do things, is a complete erasure of the terror, supremacy and colonization that Europe has imposed on this world. Botswana is the only Fulbright placement in Africa because from the US Embassy security briefer guy’s perspective, “It’s Africa lite.” Many Fulbrighters are in Netherlands (colonized South Africa after terrorizing and brutalizing the Khoisan and colonized many other parts of the world), Finland (a relatively, white homogenous nation), a few are in Greece (an early colonizer of Africa), a few Fulbrighters are in the UK (their best museums are just full of things they stole from all over the world as they were enslaving black people, stealing from them and helping the Afrikaans create apartheid). Thus, the problems I observe in the classrooms here, have nothing to do with Africanness, with blackness, with this place but rather with white institutions that were left behind. Being told I need to teach Christianity in schools, comes from a Christianity practiced in missionary churches. There is no institution not touched by whiteness, even in the blackest of places. From the collared shirts down to the knee socks, colonial threads are woven into school uniforms, only made dusty by the sand the children’s ancestors fought to keep theirs. Independences have been won, and yes those are things to celebrate, but the world is still homogenizing, westernizing and capitalism endures. “The language will die out.” Sunday. I went for a hike with a new friend who is Kalanga. I had the misconception that Bakalanga were a minority group in Botswana. This was false. The Bakalanga are a large group in Botswana, mainly living along the border of Bots and Zim. They’ve endured many persecutions from both sides of the border, despite the initial Great Zimbabwe Kingdom being that of the Bakalanga. In Botswana, since their independence in 1964, there have only been 2 official languages---English and Setswana, despite all the other groups that live here. There is only Setswana and English radio and those are the only languages taught in school (besides French…). Because of this conversation, I spent today with linguists at the University of Botswana. One, Professor Gabanamotse, a Tswana woman and expert in Khoisan and Basura languages, is helping me connect to the Naro in the Kalahari Desert. I’ll be heading to the Kgalagadi region soon. She speaks several Khoisan languages, but prior to popular belief, their languages (known for their clicks) differ largely from one another. I then spent a couple of hours with Professor Batibo, who I immediately bonded with. He’s Tanzanian, (where I have previously lived) and I think he was happy that I spoke KiSwahili. I’m spending tonight reading one of his books on language decline in Africa. There are 2,200 languages spoken in Africa, which breaks down to about 40 per country, but many countries only recognize a couple languages as national languages. Namibia is doing a better job, Professor Batibo told me, of how they are preserving and honoring their languages---They have 26 national languages, and so far have been promoting, at the education level, 16 of them. I’ve been reading a lot of Kwame Nkrumah who wrote extensively about the importance of honoring and including all ethnic groups in Africa as a tool of nation building. Focusing on one or two “global” languages, is incredibly capitalist and only serves the West. “Colonialism and its attitudes die hard.”--Kwame Nkrumah It seems bleak. Yes, I know. But there is huge resistance, endurance rather and adaptation. On my Sunday hike, we passed, what seemed to me, like the Church of Zion, a church that was founded in this part of the world in response to missionary churches. The early practitioners, of what were called Ethiopian churches, disagreed with the Eurocentricity of the Christianity they were taught. I’ll link to the Church of Zion----followers of this church go up into the mountain on Sunday adorned in robes and sing. I don’t know much about them so I’m not advocating for or against them, but from my perspective their practices are rooted in spiritual and indigenous belief systems. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1O4-h08Q7Pw I believe that children here are excellent listeners, not only out of fear of corporal punishment or because they value education more than American children, but I think because of the tradition of oral storytelling on this continent. People are able to both listen attentively, eyes locked, expressions matched to your words, listening, and are able to tell stories really beautifully. Black from Books: What am I reading? I once was told, as an insult, that, “I learned to be black from reading books.” It happened about 10 years ago. To this day I still like punk music, eating kale, doing outdoor shit like hiking, I love a lot of white people and yes, I’m socially awkward---especially at parties. I feel comfortable, now that I’m almost 30, not listing the “black things” that define me in contrast---but one for the sake of this post---I love black voice in fiction, non-fiction, poetry, in literacy in general. I was thrown this insult, in the middle of a “discourse” with a Nigerian-American, brilliant student at Brandeis. We were arguing about agency in the black community--if memory serves me right, she was arguing that poor black people are not victims of their conditions but need to take more personal responsibility. I disagreed, and listed all the -isms and examples of structural inequality--probably used very, very specific examples from texts I had been studying, as I know can be an annoying but successful debate tactic. In response, she just laughed at me, and told me that I wasn’t really black but learned how to be black from reading books. It shut me up. I probably rolled my eyes or something attitudinal to front like her commend didn’t upset me, but it did. I think still about it every now and then. I didn’t learn to be black in books, but I have learned and am continuing to learn what connects me and us with and across the black diaspora. I’m reading a lot daily here, and I’ll share some of what I’m reading in case any of you, of any color, is interested in reading more too. Consciencism----Kwame Nkrumah (political philosophy, Ghana) What Do Science, Technology and Innovation Mean From Africa? Edited by Clapperton Chakanetsa Mavhunga (non-fiction, Zimbabwe) Go Tell the Sun----Wame Molefhe (short stories, Botswana) Soweto Under the Apricot Tree-----Niq Mhlongo (short stories, South Africa) Red Cotton----- Vangile Gantsho (poetry, South Africa) Botswana, the Future of the Minority Languages----Herman Batibo (non-fiction, Tanzania/Botswana) Language Decline and Death in Africa: Causes, Consequences and Challenges----Herman Batibo (non-fiction, Tanzania/Botswana) African Belief and Knowledge Systems: A Critical Perspective----- Munyaradzi Mawere (non-fiction, Zimbabwe) I love all who read this blog. Thank you. Ke a leboga. Asante. Ndaboka. Waita hako. Enkosi. -Tess
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AuthorFulbright Distinguished Award in Teaching Archives
April 2019
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