Natalie Thinks

I grew up always feeling outside or other.  Some of these reasons were: Being an only child – it’s a lot more common today, but in the ‘70s it frequently meant I was viewed differently and excluded from the mystical world of sibling-hood and the classic Cosby family picture.  Also, we didn’t have a television.  My parent being avid readers and viewing themselves as somewhat bohemian, intellectual sorts; decided not to buy-in to the TV culture which was sweeping the nation in the early 70s – this not only led to frequent questions of, “Are you poor?”, but it left me outside the chit-chat and copycat games of Charlie’s Angels, Pop Shop and The Bold and the Beautiful .  And then just to put the cherry on the cake, we lived in a brand new suburb where schools had not yet been built, which meant that physically I was also an outsider from school, where it seemed that everyone else was in walking or cycling distance from one another. Then we come to the end of Grade 6 where I go off to

In two weeks' time, I come to the end of a decade of teaching.  It has been a great joy and also a journey about 3 years too long. As the daughter of an English teacher, the career held no appeal to me, even though I love the language, am an avid reader and majored in English at the University of the Witwatersrand! Ain’t life funny though! (yes, English teachers may use ‘ain’t’ to be ironic) Funny that I should find myself almost accidentally thrown into the job at the age of 37.  Although I had taught adults in other settings, it was a joy to discover within myself the ability to impart concepts to young minds. And what a wonderful journey it has been! I have been so privileged in so many ways. Firstly to teach at a very special school: Woodland School, which is unique in so many ways as a small, countryside, private school. I enjoyed great freedom to set curriculum and make literature choices.  Creativity is so important to me and I spent hours preparing lesson

Lately, I hear a lot about how little has changed for black South Africans, and for too many this is sadly true. Too many still live in tin shacks on muddy, trash-strewn streets where they are daily prey to the drugged-up degenerates who have no qualms in violating their own neighbours, people, who are only slightly less down-trodden than themselves. But so much HAS changed. The country I now inhabit is vastly different from the one I grew up in.  As a 40-something (okay, nearly 50 year old), I came of age at the cusp of change. I was 21 and eligible to vote in the ‘92 ‘whites-only’ referendum to end apartheid.  It felt so good to go and vote ‘YES’ – FOR GOD”S SAKE YES!  And then two years later, to stand in those long, iconic queues in the first democratic election of 27 th April, 1994. I was raised in a politically liberal home where my parents voted PFP (Progressive Federal Party) their whole lives.  I know some of my black compatriots will sneer at this, but it was no sm