The Big Read: Young, gifted and black

31 August 2016 - 09:41 By Malaika Eyoh

August 28 marked a turning point at Pretoria High School for Girls. At a school where stories of racism and injustice from black girls are usually met with silence from the staff, this time our silence was met with police and dogs. Model C schools are meant to be a beacon of unity where pupils from all backgrounds can achieve an enviable standard of education while having all their constitutional rights upheld. Most black girls who attend Model C schools will tell you this is not the case.Our schools undervalue blackness and focus more on containing us than nourishing us. Racial incidents between pupils and staff are commonplace, as is sweeping these issues under the rug and pretending that Pretoria High School for Girls upholds the value of equal treatment.Last year a black pupil in Grade 10 was told outside an exam venue that she had to "fix" her hair. With nothing to fix, she entered the exam. She was told by a staff member she would not be allowed to write her exam with her hair "like this". Another teacher told this pupil that her hair looked like a bird's nest. Both members of staff have faced no visible repercussions .Between last year and this, a now Grade 11 pupil was told by a teacher to "comb your hair, it looks terrible". When the pupil combed her hair, the teacher was disappointed that only the length of the hair had changed and not the texture. This same pupil has had her hair referred to as "k***** hair" by two staff members.This year two Grade 11 students were conversing in Xhosa during a lesson where the teacher had stopped teaching and all pupils were chatting freely (some in English, others in Afrikaans). The teacher singled out these two girls and asked them to "stop making those funny noises" because it was making her uncomfortable . This same teacher has also referred to dreadlocks as "dirty old braids".In the school hostel, a staff member reprimanded a girl for wearing a doek, calling it inappropriate for dinner and against the school code - stripping the doek of all its cultural meaning and significance with one remark.Hostel pupils have been told that spaces largely populated by black boarders resemble squatter camps. They have been told to comb their hair with dirty combs pulled from old storage boxes before coming downstairs for dinner.Incidents like these occur on a weekly basis at Pretoria High School for Girls. White pupils refer to Girls High as "the most fair and just" school they know. They tell us racism doesn't exist because they've never experienced it. Meanwhile, black girls live in fear and discomfort in that same environment. It's clear that black and white girls may sit in class together, but we don't experience the school in the same way.The school claims it wants to create people who are intelligent and capable of taking on the world. Last week that is what we became. Black girls mobilised to stand as a unit and show Girls High that we see each other and they need to see us. Girls came to the school on civvies day wearing black garments and doeks. Security guards patrolled the outside assembly. Girls wearing doeks sporting the ANC logo were pulled from assembly and taken into the headmistress's office. Teachers told pupils in classrooms that they felt threatened and scared. Because black girls in colourful doeks are something to be feared. After school, groups of black girls were repeatedly told to disperse because they "appeared to be conspiring".The consensus of the demonstration was that we were seen, but not heard. And this was unacceptable. So, once again, black girls mobilised. We decided that during the school's annual spring fair we as black pupils would meet at the netball courts to hold hands and walk to the front of the school. No shouting, no dancing, no struggle songs. A silent walk of sisters, hand in hand.Before the group could start, the security guards shut the gates, forcefully pushing girls backwards and reporting the procession as a "snaakse groep".When the gates reopened, attention was on us. Girls walked to the front of the school and upon their arrival were met with a police car, extra security and members of the governing body threatening to arrest girls as young as 14. All the while, raffle tickets continued to be sold in the background.In a scenario that should have sparked more anger and unrest, there was weariness. A sense of fatigue. We were shown, once again, that our voices don't matter. That our anger is unfounded. That our emotions are an inconvenience.When we were taken into an empty classroom to have a "discussion" with members of the governing body (who told us we didn't need to "add on" to already discussed issues and that cultural appropriation should be seen as a compliment), we felt ourselves being swept under the rug again. Our collective story was just another to be lost in the school files, labelled, "We looked into it."We came out of spring fair without the usual bags of candyfloss and fashion show tickets. We came out with knowledge and understanding. We know now more than ever that blackness is undervalued at our institution. We know that blackness is undesirable on black bodies. As long as our hair fits the code, that's all that's important to them.We understand now that we are one another's strength. When we stand together, our message is stronger. We understand that we cannot trust two old white men who work for other old white men to stand up and combat the injustice and incite the change we need. We understand that we have support. And we understand now, more than ever, that the experiences written on our skin and twisted into our hair are valuable and unique and it doesn't matter whether others want to acknowledge them. We know we matter. Race matters.On Monday a presenter on Metro FM commented that the girls at the forefront of the protest weren't matrics and looked about 14. This is correct. This movement isn't about those of us on our way out. It's about the girls who have years left at the school and deserve the chance to figure out who they are without harassment and fear. They don't need to wait until they're 18 to start seeing the value in themselves.The black pupils of Pretoria High School for Girls have lost faith in our school. But our motto "Prosit spes labori (We work in hope)" rings true. We are working in hope. Hope that because we are the seed, we will put down roots and somewhere in the centre of all this frustration a black pupil somewhere will feel comfortable in the skin under their school uniform. All of this is for that.Eyoh is a Grade 12 pupil at Pretoria High School for GirlsThis article was first published on the Daily Vox..

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