The world at large has been reset by the coronavirus, or COVID-19, for short. Every part of society, from corporate institutions to the state machinery itself, has seen some sort of disruption. One fundamental part of society that has also been disrupted is the higher education system. The department designated to handle related matters in South Africa, the Department of Higher Education, Science and Innovation, have been giving out periodic updates on their mandate.
So far, they have focused on two hashtags that have appeared in almost all their Tweets (I am part of the Twitter Generation, y’all). These hashtags are #SaveTheAcademicYear and #SaveLives.
As I went through the various interviews and statements given by the Minister and Deputy Minister of these departments, Blade Nzimande and Buti Manamela respectively, I began thinking about what these hashtags truly entail.
I want to unpack these two hashtags, as I understand them, to bring about a picture about what exactly the plan of the Department of Higher Education, Science and Innovation is – and by extension, speculate on the future of the higher education system in South Africa going forward.
I must preface this short analysis by saying that this is largely a critique of the two hashtags rather than a solutions-based approach. There will be more questions than answers. The reader might think that analyzing a problem without solutions is useless. I disagree with that assessment. If the right questions are asked – if a critical approach is truly taken – then we can imagine better, more substantive answers. Better answers begin with better questions.
One other thing I want to make clear is that I understand and empathize with the Department of Higher Education, Science and Innovation (as well as the other departments that make up our government). This is an unprecedented time in world history, and their solutions to these problems that come up are necessarily a reaction rather than a measured, careful response. I recognize this.
But at the same time, their ideas must be scrutinised and analyzed. There must be debate over their decisions. Otherwise we run the risk of uncritically accepting decisions that will, in retrospect, turn out to be bad ones.
The blade must be sharpened right here, Blade.
We have to think more, deliberate more, and analyze more. It is the only way to hold our government officials accountable.
And so we begin with the most popular refrain of both education ministers when describing government’s response to the pandemic:
#SaveTheAcademicYear
Saving the academic year means ensuring that the academic calendar runs as closely resembling normalcy as possible. This would be done to free up the higher education system for students currently in Grade 12 and who seek to enter institutions of higher learning. This would also be done to give students in the final year of their programmes an opportunity to get their qualifications and start contributing to society.
The intent is admirable. My problem with the hashtag, and what it entails, is the impact of the intentions put into practice. For instance, how do we adapt to a global pandemic in the higher education sector? Is the current strategy of using Zoom lectures and setting new assessment dates working for us? If we shift from this formula of e-learning, what impact will that have on academic integrity? In other words, how valuable will each degree from each institution be if we do not use the formula we have been using?
I’d answer that with a countering question. What makes institutions think that e-learning, in its current form, is leading to the same outcomes that would be present if we had contact learning all this time?
One of the benefits of contact learning is our (I am a student, full disclosure) physical proximity to lecturers and tutors. We can consult lecturers and attend tutorials on material we do not understand. Thereafter, we can complete assignments and study for tests in a fairly isolated environment such as residences and libraries. This allows us to shut out the external world and focus on our studies. This is the benefit of brick-and-mortar universities, and this is the advantage they get over distance learning provided by institutions such as the University of South Africa (UNISA).
I ain’t fighting with you, UNISA. You’re cool.
But what happens when the concentrated nature of contact learning is disrupted? Residences are closed and students are sent home. This, on its own, removes the students from facilities they would use to study such as WiFi and access to libraries. It also exposes them to the external world. It exposes them to an environment that might not be well-suited for academic learning. The majority of students in this country come from townships or deeply rural areas, where the geographical area itself disturbs the learning process. This is even worse for students with disabilities, who cannot access their respective Disability Units on campus, and who may not have the required infrastructure in their homes.
Noise and poor network connection are just two of the factors that may affect students from logging onto Zoom at a specified time and attending a virtual lecture. Not just that, but the sudden adjustment of having to study at home as opposed to your residence shouldn’t be downplayed. This may have an effect on the student’s academic performance. The capabilities may be there, but the failure to acclimatise and adapt may not be.
Some may argue that students simply have to adapt to changing circumstances. I disagree with that sentiment. Part of the reason I chose to attend the University of KwaZulu-Natal (UKZN) instead of enrolling at UNISA was because of the added benefits of contact learning. To pull the rug from underneath me and expect me to pull off the same performance in different conditions is deeply unfair. In fact, it smacks of a kind of social Darwinism, where the ones most able to adapt (here, meaning those with home conditions that can allow for hours spent studying) will survive. And that’s not all of us.
I’ve heard others respond to this with a retort straight out of a cheesy motivational book that costs way too much. “If you really want the degree, you’ll find the time. Life isn’t fair. Make things work for you.”
Straight out of the Tony Robbins playbook.
Isn’t that attempting to individualize systemic issues? Aren’t we just entrenching deeply systemic inequalities and pretending that they’re only one person’s “hard work and sacrifice” away from disappearing? More than anything, isn’t that just the easy way out; passing the buck on to students who have to work miracles rather than asking the bureaucrats in charge of universities to be more imaginative?
This brings me to another aspect of “saving the academic year” that is often overlooked – the issue of mental health. Anxiety and depression amongst students are at an all-time high (I can personally attest to this). To be fair, these are not issues that are exclusive to students. However, they must be addressed when chatting a way forward. The pressure of completing your degree seems to lie solely in your hands. All the while, basic circumstances do not allow you to study effectively, thereby undermining your goal of completing said degree. On top of this, there is the all-pervasive fear of COVID-19, maybe even coupled by COVID-related deaths in the community.
Mental health is a thing.
How would the academic year be saved, for that student? How do they drum up the psycho-social support necessary to attend lectures and complete assignments? Even with the technical infrastructure given to them, if the most important infrastructure (the mind) isn’t connected to the task, it’s tickets for that student.
And there is more of “that student” than you might think.
#SaveLives
The Department of Higher Education, Science and Innovation has used a phased approach to re-introduce contact learning to students, in conjunction with the phased approach used by the President and other departments. This is a way to address some of the concerns raised by our inability to “save the academic year” at home.
Once again, I commend the Department’s efforts to balance the problems caused by e-learning in its current form with the need to save lives. But also once again, I have to point out the many problems that come as a result of this decision.
Firstly, the number of students allowed to return to universities is currently 33% of the student populace (under level 3 of the lockdown, which we are currently in). That is a third of all students. What will universities do, in situations where a number of people contract the virus (especially because an infected individual can show no symptoms for about a week, yet still be able to pass on the virus)? Will they disinfect surfaces touched by the people concerned, perform contact tracing, and force those students or members of staff into quarantine within their residences or homes? Will they even be able to do all this? Or will they close the university once again, further risking a sizable number of students to further exposure to the virus as they head home?
Sizable number, this.
Secondly (and related to the first point), how will university officials carry out contact tracing adequately, in an environment where one regularly encounters people they do not know? For instance, if I sit at the same table where somebody who had COVID sneezed on, how would anybody possibly know this, with any accuracy? What happens if the person disinfecting surfaces has COVID-19 themselves? How much risk would they be putting others under? How would screening possibly stop asymptomatic individuals from interacting with others?
Thirdly, it has been reported that people with weak immune systems are at higher risk of dying from the disease (or at least, developing more severe symptoms) than individuals with stronger immune systems. Has any provision been made for them, as the phased approach begins, especially if they fall within the 33% allowed to return to campuses?
I use myself as an example. I am in the final year of my degree, and I also live with HIV. What takes priority: completing my degree or ensuring that I am healthy? Can I opt out of returning to university until after the peak of the virus in South Africa has subsided? Will I be disadvantaged for choosing not to return?
My final point regarding this specific hashtag relates back to the holistic picture of health we seemingly forget to use when examining the response to the COVID-19 crisis. How will we deal with issues of mental health that are already arising among students? Do we understand that circumstances are not ‘normal’, and so students’ academic performance may not be a true reflection of their abilities? Will we make room for that, when decisions are made about academic exclusions next year?
Do we recognize that even if a student never contracts COVID-19, that they might be psychologically affected by the pandemic? And that virtual workshops on handling anxiety are poorly attended, so the university has to meet students where they are?
These are all things the Department should consider when continuing with their (rightful) quest to save lives.
Are the two compatible?
This brings me to the biggest question of them all: in the light of these massive challenges in the path of the Department, can they really save the academic year while saving lives?
In the light of the deep inequalities in our society, I personally do not think such a compatibility is possible without any casualties. There are students who will get left behind.
In our rush to save the academic year, we sacrifice our ability to do all we can to save lives. We have to relax regulations and allow students whose home life is not conducive to learning back onto our campuses. Yet, at the same time, if saving lives becomes a priority, then our efforts to save the academic year may fall short. Staying at home, for all its disadvantages, keeps us from moving around and potentially being exposed to someone who may be infected with COVID-19.
It is a tough balance between choices, and I empathize with Blade Nzimande in this respect.
Whatever the next step for the Department of Higher Education, Science and Innovation – I hope they, and everybody else, realizes that universities are not as isolated as we would like to believe. All institutions of higher learning are part of society, and are subject to the ugliness that society sometimes has. My hope for the future post-COVID-19 is one in which we can remove the gargantuan pressure held by universities to become the Holy Grail of upward mobility for the students that go there.
What I mean by this is that we need to improve the living conditions of individuals in this country. The discrepancy between the government speaking about the Fourth Industrial Revolution while some parts of the country have poor network coverage must stop.
The popular argument that children must learn how to code in a country with low literacy rates among children must stop.
Coding isn’t the panacea you think it is.
The idea that students can only have running water and flushing toilets during the semester and not during the holidays must stop.
We need a state with the political will to provide essential services to people in this country, as quickly and as efficiently as possible. This wouldn’t stop a future pandemic from ravaging our people, sure. But it would mitigate some of its worst effects – effects that make university campuses an ivory tower of progress, yes, but effects that cannot be replicated outside the environment without a lot of added privileges.
There is a real opportunity here for the entire state to look at the effects of COVID-19, and how they have exarcebated already difficult situations for the poorest of the poor. There is also an opportunity to make lives better for the poorest of the poor, so that sectors like the higher education system work better in times of crisis. In that way, we’d have the capacity to save many academic years while also saving lives.
wiseMusings 