Prior to joining FunDza, I had worked with a number of organizations whose work revolved around the development of literacy among youth in disadvantaged areas around the country. I had also helped co-found reading clubs in several townships around the Eastern Cape and helped several high schools run their debating societies, some of which are national high school debating champions now as a result.
When I learnt about FunDza, I was knee deep in a number of projects that I had spearheaded, and upon hearing what they were doing, I immediately said to myself, “I would love to work with these people, they seem to be doing incredible work!”
At that time, my contract with one organisation I was working with was about to expire and I did not really know what it was that I was going to do once it did. So I called them and asked if I could volunteer for them.
I had come into contact with FunDza when I was interviewing the organisation for a project run by CLASI about constitutional literacy initiatives. For this I had interviewed Ros Haden, whom I thought was 29-year-old energetic and enthusiastic young writer who had originated from the UK but who’d never looked back when she arrived here as a child. She sounded full of zest. I was drawn to that!
To cut a long story short, I started working with FunDza and immediately noticed how genuinely passionate they all were about getting people reading and writing. This moved me because I had been through spaces where no matter how significant the work we were doing was, we just could not get over the curse of monotony. With FunDza, the people here were just generally into their work, ensuring that it is up to standard, and most importantly, that they don’t lose their human side – that ability to connect with readers and anyone else who’s around. How else can you have an entire office where everyone is a writer and almost everyone has a book that is already published?
On the 30th of this month, I co-facilitated a workshop at a skills development centre at Etafeni, Cape Town, with two of my colleagues, Zimkhitha Mlanzeli and Sonja Kruse.
It was such a great group of learners, many of whom had passed their matric the year before. They were there to enhance their skills and make them more employable in the future. They were a mature group: they seemed to know why they were there and were keen to get as much from the sessions as possible. I was impressed by their response to our course material and our presence.
The workshop – Branding Me – encourages participants to read and helps them explore and learn vocabulary will help them prepare application letters for bursaries, further study and employment.
Given that the sessions were run in English I could see that many learners felt that they couldn’t/shouldn’t express themselves in their own language, that it was wrong to even think in another language if English is the language of instruction, and that doing so could even mean tey weren’t that intelligent. I could see from their behaviour and response that this was inhibiting their confidence – they felt unable to participate fully in English.
I could see that there were the usual suspects who participated more in class: those who were naturally outspoken or assumed the spokesperson role for their groups. But there were many who just kept to themselves, muttered some words in answer to a question, but only to those within their group.
When I went and chatted quietly with the group though, I discovered just how talented and open-minded these learners were. But, they felt limited by having to only express themselves in English. They felt unintelligent and mute – as if their ideas didn’t hold sufficient value.
I overheard one guy whispering to another one in the group, “You know, sometimes you must mix languages. You must Xhosalize [colloquially mix English and isiXhosa in speech as though they are one language] an English exercise if you want to learn anything from it”.
He was saying this as if though it was a crime to do so, as if there wasn’t any merit in what he was saying. But, of course, we know that this works well – people gain from the deeper understanding they get from getting the lesson in their own language and they start to develop the vocabulary they need to express themselves in the other language too.
So, I interjected to him in isiXhosa (confident that the others were listening), “Bra, you’re so right! You must do that, how else will you learn when you are experiencing some difficulty with the language? Look, your language (isiXhosa) in this discussion is like you choosing to eat pasta with a spoon instead of a folk and a knife, while English is like using a folk and a knife to eat the pasta. Whichever instrument you choose to eat with will not alter the taste or how the meal will be digested; nor will they prevent it from fulfilling its nutritional purpose. You are merely processing the food using these instruments and not processing the instruments themselves, although it is important to know when and how they are both used. The same applies with language. You can and should feel encouraged to use your own language to process information provided in English, for that helps contribute to your own understanding of the subject at hand”.
The group seemed shocked when I said this to them. Even people for whom English is their home language use English to break down information that is made available to them in another language in which they aren’t fluent.
But then they looked relieved: I guess they’d never been told that by anyone before. This encouraged me to pay attention to other things that I might have observed but thought maybe I would be ridiculous to point it out, out of the fear that they already knew.
An example for this was when someone asked me if cover letters were even necessary. To them, it seemed as though cover letters were like window dressers, too fancy and perhaps redundant. I told them that no employer simply just jumps to your CV without first READING what you have written on your cover letter. And everything about your job application really depends on what you have written about yourself in your cover letter.
By the end of the workshop, I felt really connected to the groups. Previously at workshops, I had felt like an elusive facilitator who needed to give way for my more experienced colleagues in running the workshops. But, suddenly I felt as though I was coming in to my own and was getting to a point where I could share my thoughts and experiences with the group.
Facilitating is like being the one who carries water for warriors during a battle or even during a rugby match. All that you want is for people to quench their thirst with this water that you have bought for them. Most of the time, you can only describe how this water will be drunk or distributed amongst the players. Sometimes the players already know how the water will be drunk, while some won’t drink, simply because they do not feel thirsty.
As a facilitator one must try ensure that the participants understand the content. You are merely bringing them water to drink (something to learn and understand), not showing them how to drink it (not showing them how to understand), for they already know how to do that.