The times they are a changin'

I am aghast but hardly surprised to realise that the last time I updated this blog was just before our second son, Mackenzie, was born. He arrived on Bastille Day - 14^th of July 2016, and has been a delight. There were some anxious moments just after he came out, when he seemed to be having trouble breathing and had to be put into an incubator for about 10-15 minutes, but then his lungs seemed to stabilise and the desperately raspy cough settled down and he was on Helen’s chest and soon suckling well. Unlike Calvin, Mackenzie had no trouble feeding from the breast, indeed he generally has no trouble eating as much as he can get his hands on! While Calvin has the enthusiasm of a puppy for all things, Mac or Kenzie as we sometimes call him seems an old soul - he is quite calm, smiley and friendly, but doesn’t like being surprised and has a temper when he doesn’t get his food. The name was my maternal grandmother’s maiden surname - a descendant of the Mackenzie clan of Scotland. Also, my paternal grandfather’s name was Ken. [Many people seem to have taken to naming daughters Mackenzie, clearly oblivious of the fact that ‘Mac’ means ‘son of…’ in Gaelic.] At 8 months old now, he is very cute with a two-tooth grin, and has just about figured out how to crawl instead of just pulling himself along the floor with his arms; he is also trying hard to stand up when a stable object allows him to pull himself to his feet.

 

 

 

Two kids is definitely double-trouble though. Those moments when Calvin used to have a nap and there was peace for a while; unfortunately now there is another short person whose nap schedule is not the same so until 7pm at night most of the time someone is awake. However Calvin is at playschool in the mornings, and luckily we have a domestic helper who looks after Mackenzie in the mornings so that Helen can get out and about or get on with her own to-do’s. At the moment Helen is on a career break, having been offered less-than-ideal maternity leave, and she is doing a fantastic job of giving our little men all the love, attention and food and necessities that they need. Helen has purposely sought to enjoy Mackenzie being little much more, as she has seen with Calvin how quickly the time passes and they grow up and into new phases of their lives. Calvin is still the same boisterous and friendly little man, albeit now sometimes in the grip of emotions powerful enough that they seem both uncontrollable and scary for him. He will occasionally howl inconsolably about some perceived slight or denial of a desire (“I want juice!”) until he is left gibbering and thoroughly unable to remember what the original problem was.

In my last blog I mentioned that I have been considering the possibility of pursuing work in tertiary education and academia. In the latter half of last year I met with or had email correspondence with a number of people in this realm and realised that a PhD is essential to teaching or lecturing at this level. Something which I am very drawn to now that I have had two final-year classes where I have frequently wondered to myself how much I might have enjoyed teaching some of those boys a year or two later. From a personal perspective, I am sure that I would enjoy much more, teaching students whose attendance is based on their own volition, and in a much less authoritarian environment with my preferred approach of trusting students to make their own notes and do their own preparation for learning, with no input from me regarding anything other than their academic output (I don’t have to care about dress codes, haircuts, attendance at sports practices, their subservience to hierarchy, or anything else that quite frankly I would rather was not my problem). I have also observed among my colleagues that teachers with families who also try to study part-time are invariably stretched incredibly thin. Based on financial needs, and the relative comfort of having affordable help with looking after our children in South Africa, I decided however to shelve the idea of a PhD at least for a while. Fortunately, my parents intervened and helped me to consider how far my savings in the UK might be able to support me, and also that at my ripe old age of 35, I shouldn’t be putting things off for another day.

With that in mind I began in November last year a frenetic process of making applications to various programmes to study a PhD in Education, at Universities in both the USA and the UK. This included not only the applications themselves (long personal statements and CV’s and all) but also revising for and sitting a test called the Graduate Record Examination - essentially a test of mathematical and verbal literacy and writing ability. The maths was a major challenge having not really done much of it since the examinations I took to qualify as a chartered accountant, and certainly some of the geometry and algebra I hadn’t been near since I graduated from high school in 1999! Nevertheless I managed to do fairly well on all parts of this test (in 3 weeks of intensive preparation once I realised that I had to submit most of the applications for PhD’s by early December and therefore had to write the test before the end of November). When I was studying every evening and full days on weekends, Helen was a tremendous support as she took care of both boys (with generous help from her parents and siblings) during those weekends.

I am specifically looking to study further in the field of Education. Thus, despite having a postgraduate teaching qualification (PGCE) and a Masters from LSE but not in Education, I sadly found that something about either my application or my academic or working background was deemed insufficient for most Education PhD programmes, as the past few months have seen successive rejections from all of the PhD programmes that I applied to (6 in all). I therefore made applications to study a full-time Masters Degree in Education in order to immerse myself more fully in the literature and current controversies of Education - while also writing a Masters thesis which I hope will be the first chapter of my PhD - and hopefully also give me the time to figure out who I should be looking to get as my supervisor for a PhD. Essentially the research that I want to carry out relates to my experiences of the gap between training to become a teacher, and learning or receiving training in how to effectively operate in an organisation (such as a school) as well as to work collaboratively and to effectively manage others. My professional experience in accounting and management consulting has shown me that other industries do much more than seems currently to be done in Education, to directly address these sorts of ‘professional learning’. My hope is that I can do some primary research specifically in South African schools from which suitable training courses or modules may be developed to offer to teachers still in the earlier phases of their careers. So that those promoted to being heads of department or pastoral heads, have built some capacity and knowledge in organisational management and inter-personal and team management before they find themselves learning on the fly, while sitting in the hot seat.

After a few months of great uncertainty - considering the possibility of moving to the USA or the UK and repeatedly having my hopes dashed, I was recently accepted to study a Masters in Education at King’s College in London, and am still pursuing one or two other opportunities in the UK for similar degree programmes. Having already notified my headmaster at the beginning of the year of my applications to study overseas (with his kind patience while I awaited responses to my applications before resigning) I was then able to confirm this acceptance to him a few days ago, and he shared the news with the staff of my school last week that I will be leaving the school at the end of June in order for us to move our family to the UK. It is certainly bittersweet - as there is much that I have enjoyed about teaching at St David’s and some good friends who I have been fortunate enough to make there. However, it feels right to move on to a new challenge, and I am very fortunate to have full support from Helen and two boys who are still small enough that the move should not affect them adversely. I must admit that when we had an extended period of grey and miserable weather in Johannesburg just as I had made my applications to various Masters programmes in the UK, I wondered if nature was playing a cruel joke on me to remind me of what I’d be letting myself in for. But on the other hand it will be great to see many friends again and perhaps, given some of my frustrations and misgivings about South Africa at the moment, it is a timely pause for reflection.

South Africa has had a mixed bag of fortunes since my last blog update. On one hand, the August local elections saw the ANC, historically the party of liberation under Nelson Mandela, lose its control of a number of key municipal areas including Pretoria, Johannesburg and Port Elizabeth. However, seemingly undaunted, our President continues to preside over numerous shenanigans ranging from thinly veiled attempts to remove the internationally-respected finance minister, to continuing to pursue an insanely expensive and seemingly corrupt deal with Russia for nuclear power (which the finance minister has expressed opposition to on the grounds of fiscal irresponsibility), to recently presiding over a fiasco in which it was found that the agency used to pay out welfare payments and social grants (upon which a reported 45.5% of all South African families rely for sustenance) had been appointed by government in a manner that was invalid and unconstitutional. The minister in charge of this department has not, as yet, been fired or even reprimanded publicly, because she is the head of the ANC Women’s League and has backed the ex-wife of our sitting president to succeed him (which would be his preference) when the national conference to plan succession in the ANC takes place later this year. In addition, South African universities were last year beset by violent student protests centred on the issue of fees charged by universities and the fact that many students, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds, simply can’t cope with the financial burden. While they are correct, I unfortunately think it is hardly coincidental that these protests become loudest when examinations loom, as many students have been so poorly prepared by our basic schooling system that they are barely literate and often the bursaries or scholarships which they have received to study are contingent on their achieving passing grades. Last year some universities were unable to complete the academic year due to the protests and this, along with affirmative action in employment at South African universities, has convinced me that I need to obtain any further qualifications at world-recognised education institutions firstly to give myself some certainty of being able to graduate and secondly to compete with local applicants if I return to lecture and research in South Africa.

On a day-to-day basis, I am hardly convinced that South Africa is terribly worse off than the far-right nationalism that seems to be barely held in check in Europe or the election of a certain orange-faced liar in America. Or even the apparently selfish and narrow-minded pursuit of Brexit being applied by current UK leadership on the narrowest of margins in the public vote (has the Prime Minister grossly over-estimated Britain’s bargaining power, or does she really think that xenophobic attitudes to immigration will be solved by separation from the European Union and a resulting economic slump?) But it does sometimes feel like our national dialogue in South Africa accuses those of us who believe in rule of law of being colonialist or un-African. When my blood boils as I see a succession of local mini-bus taxis drive a few hundred meters up the wrong side of the road (forcing oncoming traffic aside) so that they don’t have to wait at a congested intersection - I am sometimes greeted by a shrug that suggests I shouldn’t be unrealistic in my expectations for South Africa. After all, Lagos, Nairobi, and even cities in Asia and Latin America, see similar flouting of the law and selfishness. From my LSE days, I know however that the real issue is a lack of willingness to apply the law to all - because with the correct incentive structures (such as widening use of CCTV at key intersections and fining the taxi-company owners rather than individual drivers, as well as creating a much harsher tier of fines for professional drivers who carry paying passengers) this sort of activity could easily be dramatically curtailed. However, it is an open secret that many police officials are shareholders in taxi companies and therefore take a light touch to law enforcement. Perhaps this should come as no surprise given that our president and many of his closest allies in positions of the most supreme power, are all violating the laws, often to enrich themselves. T’was ever thus: politicians everywhere are crooks (or self-aggrandisers) and they certainly were under apartheid.

Calvin: "It was him." Mackenzie: "Whaat?"

 The rugby season has just started again and I am determined to enjoy what I can of this season - again with kind support from Helen who looks after the boys on Saturdays while I am out running around. The Referees Society continues unfortunately to be somewhat chaotic, despite their forming a new committee which was appointed rather than elected (as had previously been the case), but I try to focus only on what I can control in my own performance. I hope to make Pirates Grade before we leave for the UK (where I would still like to continue to referee), and to bolster my efforts I undertook a punishing fitness training programme that allowed me to achieve a 13.1 on the beep test in early February - not as fit as I once was, but still one of the best scores among all members in the society and enough to prove that my age shouldn’t be counted against me. I still enjoy being out on the field and plan to keep doing it until I don’t enjoy it any more (maybe a bit like a 56-year old member of our society who was famous for having refereed over 1000 games at schools and clubs, who sadly passed away a week-ago Saturday, shortly after refereeing a game.)

In January I was fortunate enough to get time off from my school (and permission from Helen) to return to Chile for the first time since 2008 to attend the wedding of my dear friend Cesar who I have known since I assisted in the English Department at his school when he was in his final year there in 2000 - shortly before I went to Oxford to begin my undergraduate studies. Although a week was too short to be ambitious about my itinerary, I had a wonderful time catching up with friends both from the school and from the basketball I played outside of school. I managed to go on an organised day tour which included a short hike on some foothills of the Andes outside Santiago, and also to play basketball a few times as well as to enjoy some leisurely mornings reading a book next to the pool without any worries about children or university applications or anything else. I had a great time seeing different aspects of Chilean life again, from a meal with Cesar’s parents at a restaurant specialising in traditional Chilean cuisine, to a barbecue with my old basketball mates which was clearly organised by the men because it only featured spicy sausages in rolls, and hunks of steak and they all drank copious quantities of beer and then pisco and Canada Dry (no vegetables, no garnish, nada…) Sadly, I was training for the referees fitness test so I didn’t drink for the month of January except one beer that night with the old basketball crew, and two drinks at Cesar’s wedding. On another evening I had a lovely dinner with several of the ladies who were once in the school I’d assisted at along with their husbands and partners. And it was interesting to note that the conversations, while in Spanish and at times different in flavour and nuance, still held many of the same issues (work, family, politics): one couple with young children were trying to figure out which school to send their daughter to next year and had concerns that some of the expensive private schools had become snobby, but that the state schools, while a great social mixing ground, were not up to the same academic standards. (Sounds familiar in many places!) There were also weird and terrifying experiences such as discovering that my friend Pelao likes to look over at his passengers while speeding his car around cliff-side hairpin bends (cue: white-knuckles and rude gestures for him to look at the road) to visit an American-Chilean friend of his who had satellite television on which we watched the NFL Conference finals and they admired and sampled this friend’s amateur horticulture with particular emphasis on marijuana plants. I was lucky to also spend some time with Cesar during the week, despite the pressures of arranging everything for the wedding and also his inner conflicts with working under his father in the family business (I've never met people working in a multi-generational family business who haven't found it challenging). We enjoyed an awesome hike up a local hill that turned out to be surprisingly arduous, but with a magnificent view over Santiago despite the veil of cloud and smoke as a result of forest fires in many nearby regions. The wedding itself was a large affair with over 300 people, but it was fun to be there and to see some of the differences in how it was done, and great to see Cesar so happy on the day.

One tremendous source of frustration over the past 7-8 months has been that the hearing aids which I purchased in the middle of last year, called Phonak Naida, have turned out not to be nearly what they were advertised, despite being very expensive. I bought the aids because they are water resistant (with an IP67 rating which means they are dust proof and meant to be water resistant to submersion up to 1 meter) which meant that I could wear them for normal day-to-day life as well as for sports activities. What I have found however, is that once I start sweating, they cut out within about 20 minutes as sweat enters the battery compartment. Thereafter the aids have to be put into a dehumidifier for a few hours before they can be worn again. As you can imagine, this is hardly practical for someone like me who relies on aids to hear much at all. I have been in correspondence with the local South African office and even with the head office in Switzerland and have simply received a series of excuses. Literally: “sweat is a difficult substance” (me: but your product brochure specifically lists resistance to sweat); “water resistant means it works again after exposure, not that it works under exposure” (me: you don’t mention that anywhere in the product literature and that is certainly not what water resistance means when you wear a watch or use a cellphone); “you must sweat abnormally we’ve never had this problem before” (me: bub, you should meet some of my friends who really sweat, I have seen pictures of pools of sweat under their exercise bike, and don’t be so rude!). In the end I had to buy a supplementary pair of much older tech Japanese hearing aids that are properly water-proof. I have tried to persuade Phonak that it is unreasonable for me to shoulder this expense alone, given that it is the failure of their expensive product that has forced me to make this purchase. And after months of discussion, they have simply returned with the answer “either return the hearing aids for a full refund or accept them as they are” [and keep spending your own money]. And I apparently have a week to make a decision (after months of them obfuscating and obstructing). Though I have a great deal of other things to worry about, quite frankly I am very tempted to do everything in my power to prevent other people from suffering the same ill-treatment by sharing this experience as widely as possible and potentially also approaching the consumer ombud regarding this situation. 

Now that we have many changes descending upon us, as we ready our house for viewings by potential buyers and begin to consider all of the different aspects of this move, there is much work to be done in the next few months. We are a little daunted by the prospect of a move, living in the UK with kids will no doubt be a different experience from both of our previous lives there as care-free young professionals, but Helen and I are also excited at the prospect of a new adventure. We will continue to make the most of life here in South Africa over the next few months, but also to prepare ourselves for a new chapter with its own challenges and enjoyments.