Dear SAPA Members
I have just read the article below written by Helen Zille about the remarkable achievements of two matric pupils from a local school catering for the poorest of the poor. I commend it to you and hope that you too are encouraged through it to keep at the good work you are engaged to. You can and do make a difference each and every day in the lives of all the children in your school.
Stay with the mission.
Yours in Education.
David de Korte
PRESIDENT
SAPA WC
SAPA :President Western Cape
24 January 2011
A Weekly Newsletter from the Leader of the Democratic Alliance:
OUTLIERS - The story of Masibambane High School
In his best-selling book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell seeks to unravel “the story of success” - exceptional success, not just great achievement.
He defines an outlier as a “statistical observation that is markedly different from the
norm” and asks: why do some people achieve so much more than
others? How come they lie so far outside the ordinary? What is the
secret of their success? He tries to find the answers by examining the
lives, times and circumstances of legendary figures like Bill Gates, the
Beatles and various sports stars.
In each case, he finds the fortuitous
combination of three key factors:
● Opportunity;
● Natural ability combined with
enormous personal effort; and
● The proverbial “hand of fate”
- a confluence of circumstances that make exceptional
things possible.
I decided to test Gladwell’s thesis after the recent release of matric results. It is appropriate to use the
term “Outlier” to describe a 17-year old boy, who lives in a
backyard shack with his single mother and three siblings, and achieves 7
distinctions in matric, including 97% for higher grade mathematics and
the top award in the Western Cape for life sciences.
A shy, finely-built young man, Asavela Rawe arrived at the annual “matric achievers”
ceremony in the school uniform of Masibambane high school. As I handed him his award (in my
capacity as Premier), I resolved to find out what lay behind his
exceptional achievement. When his classmate Monde Simbosini (three
distinctions and 98% for higher grade mathematics) was also honoured, I
was even more determined to find out more about the school that serves
the poverty-stricken community of Bloekombos and achieved a 95% pass
rate with 24 subject distinctions.
The purpose of my investigation was to address this simple question: what is the government’s role in
creating the circumstances that offer children the opportunity to excel?
If this can happen in Masibambane, what must we do to enable it to
happen elsewhere? How much of Asavela and Monde’s academic success can
be attributed to opportunity, intelligence, personal effort, and plain
good luck?
During my investigation, I concluded that all these factors played a role, each a tributary flowing into a
river, reinforcing one another to create the momentum for exceptional
achievement.
Having sourced the cell number of the school’s principal, Mr Rajan Naidoo, I gave him a call. I apologized
for phoning him on a Friday evening during the school holidays.
“No, no”, he replied. “I am at school. We always start the matrics a week early, so that they settle
into the learning programme before the other pupils arrive.”
That said a lot about the ethos of Masibambane.
I asked Mr Naidoo if I could visit the school, and possibly meet the key matric teachers and the chair of the
governing body. I also enquired whether it would be possible to speak to
Asavela and Monde as well. “Come tomorrow morning at 11,” he replied
without hesitation. The ne xt day, Mr Naidoo welcomed me to the school
accompanied by his daughter, Vinolia, a second year law student. She
reminded me that we had met before at the opening of the
state-of-the-art operating theatres at Red Cross Children’s hospital.
I then recalled the lovely, petite young woman who had given a moving
speech about the doctors and staff that had saved her life through a
combined liver and kidney transplant.
While doctors were battling to save his daughter’s life, her father, then a deputy school principal in Durban,
had applied for teaching posts in Cape Town, so that he could be near
his desperately ill child. He was appointed principal at Masibambane in
2003, at that time one of the weakest schools in the Western Cape.
“The hand of fate”, I thought to myself as I applied Gladwell’s thesis.
On the final weekend of the holidays, the school property was a hive of activity - a gardener weeding, a
cleaner sweeping and a handyman painting a classroom. “We are
preparing for the opening of school next week” he said as he showed me
the stacks of text books and stationery ready for distribution on day
one.
He proudly walked me around his school, formerly a derelict provincial building which was converted into a
school in 2001. He explained how he had driven each improvement,
including a sports field with an embankment where pupils can sit and
cheer their teams. There is a computer laboratory, a science laboratory,
a small library (with a rack for daily newspapers), a kitchen for the
feeding scheme, a new hall and toilets. The absence of any sign of
vandalism was striking.
“Opportunity,” I thought to myself. Decent basic facilities are necessary to create opportunity, but
entirely insufficient on their own. What Mr Naidoo said next, delivered
in his characteristic matter-of-fact way, demonstrated why Masibambane
is a school capable of producing “outliers”.
“When Vinolia came out of hospital, I wanted her to be near me, so I enrolled her here, at Masibambane,” he
said. “I believe principals should be prepared to enrol their own
children in their schools, to show they have confidence in the quality
of the education they are providing for other children”.
He paused and added: “Vinolia was probably the first Indian child to attend a township school.”
We entered the new administration building, where a small gathering was waiting at a table laid with
refreshments.
There I was introduced to Mr Yusif Sium, the school’s mathematics teacher; Mr Andre Kleinschmidt, who
teaches physics and life sciences; Mr Shimeless Zeleke the maths
literacy teacher; Mr Phumzile Dosi, the English teacher and grade 12
co-ordinator; Mr Thabiso Motsana the life orientation teacher; and Mr
Michael Vena, the chair of the school governing body. There were also
the star pupils, Asavela and Monde, together with Asavela’s mother,
Lungiswa, who works at the “fruit and veg” section of Checkers in
Kraaifontein. She told me she had not seen Asavela’s father since her
baby was one month old. “That is why I say he died,” she said.
Monde’s parents were visiting family in the Eastern Cape.
Mr Naidoo told me he and the governing body applied a strict “merit selection” policy when recommending
teachers for positions at the school.
It was not always that way.
“When I came to this school, I confronted a governing body that had a different approach. Some were
even prepared to accept bribes from applicants to be nominated for
positions. Everything was politicised. It was difficult to change that
approach. We had some conflict about it. But I knew the school would
only succeed if we applied merit selection”. He recalls the backing
and support he received from an outstanding senior circuit manager, Mrs
Ntombi Dwane, who helped him implement the new policy.
“Today I follow a strict policy of keeping party politics out of this school. We take decisions on their
merits. We employ our staff on the basis of their ability to teach our pupils,” Mr Naidoo emphasized.
This was immediately apparent as I spoke to the teachers. Their own stories show an astounding confluence
of excellence and effort, influenced by the inevitable “hand of
fate”. Mr Sium, for example, is an Eritrean studying actuarial
science part-time at the University of Cape Town. He earns his living as
Masibambane’s maths teacher.
The team ethos and mutual support were tangible. But the greatest insights came from the pupils themselves.
Asavela and Monde told me how they were able to stay at school until 9 o’clock at night, so that they could
study in an environment conducive to learning. They negotiated the
after-hours use of their classrooms with teachers, and worked in groups
to assist others with their homework. Prefects were given the
responsibility of locking up when they left. They were accountable for
the state of the premises the next day.
Then Asavela made the following observation: “Monde and I would not have done so well if we were not
competing with one another. We are good friends, but also competitors.
That helped a lot. We will carry on as friendly competitors when we go
to University.” Both will study actuarial science at UCT next year,
and Mr Sium has made a commitment to continue teaching and supporting
them.
I asked Mrs Rawe whether we could visit her home - two shacks in the backyard of an RDP house in Bloekombos.
Her baby was asleep on her bed. She told me the tiny premature boy had
spent 5 months in Tygerberg hospital, where she had remained with him.
With his mother away, Asavela had spent most of his matric year taking
personal responsibility for his younger siblings as well as himself. All
of his belongings, including the computer he had won as a prize for his
matric results, were neatly stacked in a small pile at the bottom of his
narrow bed. I realised that he had come to the matric achievers function
in his school uniform because it was probably the only suitable outfit
he had.
Above his pillow, he had written on the shack wall in red koki: “A true gentleman is a true genius in
calculation. A true legend lives on”. Those words gave him
inspiration, he told me.
We then went on to visit Monde’s house. He lives with his siblings in a backyard shack of his parents’
RDP house, where he shares a bed with his brother.
The rest of the space in the shack is taken up by a rickety home-made table on which stands an ancient Dell
computer.
“You must never get rid of that computer,” Asavela said to Monde. “That computer helped us to
succeed”.
Monde told me that his uncle had been given the computer by his employers when they upgraded their systems.
Together Monde and Asavela set it up - and through their own efforts
turned this stroke of luck into yet another opportunity. At school,
during the day, they downloaded matric papers and worked on them late
into the night, on the old computer in the shack. “The computer kept
freezing, but we kept starting it again,” said Monde.
That comment captured it all.
We often talk about the “opportunity” society. On that Saturday I saw what this idea
can mean when opportunity meets singular human effort. The key priority
of any government is to create real opportunities for all, so that
people can use them.
It is true that “Outliers” like Asavela and Monde cannot be used as the yardstick for the rest of
society. But the story of Masibambane as a school is a demonstration
that many young people, of average ability, can become part of the
“story of success”. There is no reason why this cannot become
South Africa’s story too.
Yours Sincerely,