Student Teaching at A.I. Steenkamp

Student teaching at A.I. Steenkamp primary school has been one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life.  I've been so busy with life here in Namibia that it has made it next to impossible for me to blog about it to all of you back home but I knew I needed to take the time to update my thoughts after my "First Day of School" post.

The two words that describe my time at school the best are 'hectic,' and 'unpredictable.'  There is no supervision of the students before classes start, during break, or after school is let out so learners are constantly running around the school yard and very often beating each other with sticks, plastics, and if nothing better, then their own fists.  I have never seen so much violence in a school atmosphere in my life. The saddest part of this situation is that the only people who ever break up these fights are myself and the two other PLU students I attend Steenkamp with.  I have never seen a teacher stop a fight during these break times.  To add to the violence, fighting often continues into the classroom, and although I've been much more successful at stopping this violence than I was the first day, it still boggles my mind that it happens in the first place!  Every time I break up a fight I take the students involved and I ask them if they like to be hit.  The answer is always "No Miss."  I then ask them to explain to me why then, do they hit each other and that question is always met with silence before I ask them to apologize.  After spending roughly three weeks in the school I'm starting to understand why the students beat each other.

Although corporal punishment is illegal by Namibian law, I see it in the schools every single day.  When I say corporal punishment, I don't mean spanking or a 'tap tap' on the hand.  I mean students getting smacked on the back of the heads with rulers, students being elbowed in the ribs or punched in the stomachs, and students receiving backhands across their faces, only to be ridiculed when they start crying in the classroom.  To make matters worse, these punishments are common for infractions such as forgetting homework, being tardy to class, or answering a question incorrectly.  It's been absolutely heartbreaking to watch, and at the same time even harder to understand.

Namibia is only 20 plus years old.  Most of the teachers who teach at A.I. Steenkamp were taught in segregated  Damara schools under apartheid rule, and were taught in a manner that corporal punishment was allowed and even encouraged as the main form of discipline.  Most of the teachers at Steenkamp have it engrained in their mind that when they were told to listen it was through force, so that's how they must teach their own students.  When I and others have approached the teachers about this form of punishment the response is always the same, "I don't want to hit them, but they don't listen if I don't.  How else am I supposed to get them to be quiet?"  What's even more frustrating is that I know plenty of classroom management techniques that could help but they need a lot of time and consistency that these students have not been given and that I'm not sure the teachers are willing to commit.

On a lighter note I love my students.  I feel like such a mean teacher because I often have to raise my voice during class, but my students always give me hugs on the way out the door and tell me how happy they are to have me and how much they love having me as a teacher.  I've had so many beautiful notes from my students, some that don't even go to my classroom.  I was talking with some of my peers the other day and we are beginning to realize, it's not just about the learning.  We are here to teach and we want each of our students to succeed, but I think we have a larger role here.  So many of these students live with violence and negativity every day.  Being here shows them that somebody loves them, somebody cares for them, and somebody wants to see them succeed.  I can't count the number of hugs I receive each day, and although it can be overwhelming being mobbed by hundreds of little learners, I try to make sure that each one gets some attention and some kind words before I move on.  I'm trying my hardest to make an impact on these students, but if nothing else I hope they know they are cared for, and that someone believes in them.