Going Back to Preschool (Playdough included)

My friend Shelby lives in Hout Bay and runs All Out Africa, an organization that places volunteers from all over the world with various organizations that need aid. While staying with her for a few days, I had the opportunity to help out at one of her placement sites, Noluthando Day Care in the local township. Tuesday morning I headed off in a “cockroach” (local transport system; it just needs four wheels and an engine—doors not required on all vehicles) with Lucy, a volunteer from England who was in her third of four weeks teaching. The goal of the morning was to teach 10 children aged 4-5 the seasons. Easier said than done.

Noluthando has approximately 22 children on a daily basis. They are usually divided into two age groups, the 4-5 year olds and the 2-3 year olds. All the children at the Day Care operate in Xhosa and know very little if any English, although most of the older children can identify volunteers as “teacher” (screaming this numerous times to get your attention), say “How are you?” (but get confused if you answer anything except “fine”) and ask “toilet?” When these children enter the school system in a year or two, they will be taught in English. Day Care is the first step for them to develop language skills and thus ensure that they do not fall behind; native-English speaking volunteers are essential to this process.

I have a little experience teaching English as a second language: I regularly tutored Xhosa-speaking 6th graders during my semester in South Africa, while in China I taught Basic English classes for 4-5 year olds, 7-9 year olds and Conversational English to college students. What I learned is that a teaching assistant fluent in the students’ language is extremely beneficial, especially when students are extremely young. Receiving bilingual instruction allows students to make the mental connections needed to comprehend vocabulary and thus process ideas. After all, it is no good to stand in a neutral state and say “Be quiet” over and over again; the children will have no idea what this means. Now, putting one fingers to your lips and “shushing” will help get the point across (It should be noted that I found myself using sign language and exaggerated body language throughout the morning), but pairing “Be quiet” with “Thula” will leave no doubt.

Unfortunately, the teachers at Noluthando treat the arrival of a volunteer as a holiday and are not present in the classroom, let alone participate. To complicate matters, Lucy knows no Xhosa. So if the students become exceptionally rowdy, she can ask for help calming them down, but otherwise she is on her own while the teachers jointly share the younger children. Lucy did her best with the circumstances and attempted to accomplish her daily lesson plan, but throughout the morning I continually found myself frustrated, sure that the distraction plaguing the children originated in language confusion that could easily have been cleared up by the presence of the teachers.

The day’s lesson on seasons was apparently a standard day, in which not much was accomplished and few students seemed to understand the ideas being presented to them: namely that “summer, fall, winter, spring” (which they could all rattle off in that order) are four separate ideas, related to weather. Lucy had created four worksheets for the children, each with the name of a season in large bubble letters, the name in dotted lines for the kids to trace, and several small images related to the season. Everyone seemed to enjoy coloring and actually shared their crayons quite well. Apparently, Lucy has been training them with “take one” for the past several weeks; if someone hogs all the crayons, the other students admonish him or her with “take one.” However, they are far from able to read and Lucy’s efforts to get the children to identify which season was which by the words were met with blank stares or “summer, fall, winter, spring.” I tried a different tactic, asking students to identify specific letters within the words. However, while some could tell me f, a, l, l, they just looked at me when I sounded out the individual letters. It seems that while the ABC song has been taught, the sounds of individual letters have not.

Lucy and I were brainstorming, trying to come up with ideas of how to explain that these seasons are four distinct things, instead of one lump term. I suggested that we hang sample worksheets on the wall in the order that they know, pointing to each in turn as they recited their phrase. Then, I hoped, we could say them out of order. After lots of coaching, a few seemed to grasp the concept of difference but still needed to rotate through all the seasons until we affirmed the correct answer. For further entertainment, I spaced the worksheets around the classroom and asked the students to run (“baleka”) to each sign as we called it out. After an entertaining example where Lucy called seasons and I exaggeratedly ran around the run, the children joined in, screaming all the while. The few students who grasped the lesson took charge, running towards signs and the rest wandered lost until I joined the crowd and mother-duck-like herded them with me a sign, which I then read and asked them to repeat with me. “Spring. Say it with me, Spring. Spring. Spring.” Essentially, organized chaos. However, Lucy was careful to reward positive behavior, utilizing her new star-chart that she created after watching teachers beat the students for misbehaving. She is trying to change the teaching practice, but I doubt it will be effective as the teachers are not around to see the star-chart in action and have the students from 7am-5 pm while Lucy is only there from 9-12.

After that disorderly but energetic activity, Lucy and I agreed that it was best if we left being educational for another day so we brought out Playdough that had recently been donated to the school. Like most small children, they all wanted to 1) taste it and 2) mash the colors together to make a lovely brown. I tried to demonstrate different things you could do with it: shaping it into a ball, rolling it into a string, turning that string into a bracelet. I felt like such a trendsetter as everything I did was imitated by the three girls at my very squat preschool table. The snake was especially popular, as were small flowers. I was excited to see that by the end the kids were making sculptures that I hadn’t demonstrated or choosing whatever sculpture had most appealed to them over the course of the session; imagination had been unlocked, they only needed to know that they could apply it to PlayDough!

Then it was time for an hour recess. Lucy and I supervised while the boys (and a few girls) organized a version of keep away with a soccer ball and most of the girls amused themselves with some sort of large wire hanger. At one point, the goal was to see how many people could fit into the hanger and walk together. Playing with my hair and appropriating my sunglasses were also regular activities. Apparently, the children had not been allowed to go outside during recess until Lucy arrived as the regular teachers did not enjoy going outside with them in the “cold.” I use quotations partly because I personally consider South African winter to be mild, but also because on this day all the kids shed their long sleeves and ran around in t-shirts. Hopefully after Lucy leaves the teachers will be more inclined to let the children work off their energy outside.

The morning left me reflective. How can these teachers receive more training? How can we get proper teaching and training materials into the classroom? What tools do English-speaking volunteers need to operate effectively? How could volunteers and teachers work more closely together? What about fun activities requiring materials—dress up, puppet shows, art corner, playground equipment—that are generally common in American preschools and yet so alien to children whose parents worry about what they will eat that day?

I know that All Out Africa is asking all of these questions and hopes to make significant changes over time, so I am not worried about Noluthando in particular. In fact, Lucy, Shelby and I spent Tuesday afternoon and most of Wednesday changing the younger kids’ bare white classroom into a multi-colored extravaganza complete with alphabet, days of the weeks, numbers, mural, etc. because we wanted Noluthando to stimulate the childrens’ imagination and serve as a teaching tool. However, I worry for schooling in townships across the country, especially Black townships. There are many who hope that this is the generation that will be well-educated, the generation that will break the uneducated and poor cycle, the generation that will rise out of the townships. I hope this too. But education must begin early and it will work better if it is encouraged in the home, if there are literacy tools accessible, if teachers use creative means of interaction, if, if, if. I worry that quality materials (and teachers) are not available in sufficient quantity; South Africa is making progress but there is much still to be done, especially regarding education.