So
the IBE matric results were released on Friday and, no surprise, the posh
schools all got 100% university entrance passes; their matrics averaged over two
As apiece and there were so many who got seven, eight, nine, or even 10
distinctions, that those who earned an old-fashioned full house of six look
like the most desperate bunch of under-achievers.
The
announcement led, on a slow news day, to discussions on the phone-in radio
shows and lead stories on the newscasts. I was in the car all day, so I heard
most of them.
And,
of course, I’ve got my two cents worth of opinion on the matter.
The
obvious question was what the results from the state schools are going to look
like when they become known next week, and from there it was a short step to asking
the big one: Why is there such a chasm in achievement between the schools who
released their results this week and those who will do so next?
I
generalise of course: not all independent schools produce great results, and
not all of them are well-resourced and expertly managed. And there are many
state schools who have 100% pass rates, and who churn out top achievers, including
some who operate under appallingly poor conditions.
In
trying to unpack all of this the obvious place to start is at the chasm in
resources. Some of those independent schools charge a million rand for five
years’ worth of schooling, and they have parents who are willing and able to pay
it.
They
have the buildings, fields and facilities, and attract top teachers. So do the
best of the state schools – former model C institutions that look like, and
operate exactly as the best of the private schools do.
And
when you speak about inequality, you are talking about our past. Uneven resourcing
of education was the cornerstone of apartheid education and 22 years of
democracy hasn’t dented that legacy.
The
radio hosts and their callers spoke about what to do to close that gap and, understandably,
they got nowhere.
It’s
about money of course, and if anyone knew how to get rid of the inequalities
then this, along with many other problems, will go away. But we don’t of
course, and so people spoke of making the private schools reach out to the
underperformers, lifting them, and of redistributing the good teachers (that’s
one that Gauteng MEC Lesufi comes back to from time to time).
What
no-one did – even though it’s the obvious thing – was talk about leadership.
What
do the high performers, public and private have in common? They function – on every
one of the 200-odd days in the school year. And they do so because school
management insists on it.
In
the case of the private (and many state schools) it’s easy. Principals are well
qualified and well paid. They are assisted by councils or governing bodies made
up of experts in various fields who are efficient and motivated, and they have the resources
to put plans in place.
Getting
everyone to do their jobs properly is not so difficult there – it’s what
happens in successful organisations everywhere. But
what happens in those under-performing schools? Who is the principal, and what
does he or she do? There’s no money, and the teachers are demotivated
and often incompetent. The support from the community and the governing body is
often non-existent.
Under
those circumstances getting teaching and learning to take place every day is
not so easy, and looking at the results, it clearly isn’t happening.
Yet
a number of schools who operate under those circumstances do produce
extraordinary results. You’ll find, I’m sure, that at every one of them there
is a leader, and a management team, that has risen above the challenges, and
that insists on everyone doing their job – teaching children, every day.
Identifying
that common factor is far easier than doing something about it. Clearly it’s
the state’s job to do that. They have the taxpayers' money, and the education
departments have the reach to get into every school. They
aren’t doing the right things, though. The results show that, and the shocking
statistic is that, of the 25 000 schools in the country, proper teaching and
learning only happens at about 5 000 (and that includes the private schools).
So,
those who care realise they have to do something about it themselves and aid
projects in education have sprung up all over the place. I
went to a conference a few years ago where, for three solid days, I heard about
the wonderful things organisations were doing, and about the money that
corporations were spending, trying to help.
Not
that many of them seemed to have much lasting impact. As with much aid, many
projects were short-term and unsustainable and impossible to scale up.
And
few of them focused on leadership. I wondered at the time why the educational
experts weren’t trying to replicate what was happening at those under-resourced
schools that were doing well.
There
are obviously those who are working on it. And the best of those, I’d wager,
are looking at the principals. Find a way to get more of those effective,
no-nonsense leaders into more schools and support them, and we will at least be
making a start.
The
educational authorities should be running in-service training for principals
and, most importantly, induction and orientation programmes for new appointees.
They
have other priorities, I know, and the scale of the problem is intimidating.
That’s why I salute those aid programmes who have recognised that you have to have
effective leaders, in every school, and are tackling the problem from that end.
The
kids who achieved multiple distinctions worked hard for them – their privileged
circumstances didn’t do it for them on their own. But
they were at schools led by men and women who recognised that their job was to make
it all possible. And they did their jobs.
Let’s
get the leaders right, one school at a time – that’s my two cents worth.