Abstract
This article draws on data collected from a wider, longitudinal life history study conducted in South Africa between 2010 and 2014. The study focussed specifically on the personal and professional pathways to principalship of a sample of women leaders of co-educational high schools in South Africa, in both rural and peri-urban provinces: a role that, in gender terms, remains a minority position in South Africa and internationally. The data revealed valuable insights into how two of the women experienced principalship of high schools in multiply deprived rural areas. This article focusses only on these two women’s experiences of, and not their pathways to, principalship. The women, one black and one white, work in rural schools which, through historic demographics, still serve black communities only. Their leadership roles are beset by the problems of the multiple deprivation prevailing in their school and community contexts. Though the findings are not generalisable from this small sample, they indicate that there are commonalities of experiences in two key areas: issues of authority and power contestation, and the manifestation of deeply entrenched cultural traditions and patriarchy. These impact adversely on the execution of principalship for women leaders in deeply rural, traditional communities.
Introduction
This article draws on a wider, longitudinal life history study, conducted in South Africa between 2010 and 2014, which explored the personal and professional pathways to principalship of a small but purposive sample of women co-educational high school leaders. This study addressed the question, posed in much of the gender research, of what motivates or drives women to undertake the role of a co-educational high school principal, a position traditionally, and still mainly, occupied by men (Coleman, 2002; Evetts, 1994; Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011; Lumby et al., 2010; Moorosi, 2010; Parsadh, 2001; Smith, 2011; Uwamahoro, 2011). The life history approach enabled the women to tell me their stories of the journeys to, and the achievement of, principalship, thus providing a rich data source from their narratives and our prolonged ‘conversations with a purpose’ (Ribbins, 2007).
However, an unexpected consequence of these conversations, deriving from the trust that was built between us over two years, were the revelations of the women’s personal and professional experiences of principalship. Their stories provided very interesting data beyond that required to address the research question of the wider study. But it was apparent that the data was very significant and could provide valuable insights into how South African women experience principalship. Therefore, for this article I have chosen to focus only on the experiences of, and not the pathways to, principalship. The article draws on only two of the stories, as these women’s experiences were of leading rural schools in contexts of multiple deprivation.
This term may be interchangeable with that of the more commonly used ‘challenging circumstances’, which does describe the situation existing in many schools in South Africa. However, in the majority of these contexts, the challenges are deeper and more complex than that term denotes. This is, in part, because of the apartheid past and the historic demographics of deeply rural areas. It is also because of the endemic poverty and the health and social factors impacting on these communities and their schools, which include HIV and Aids; the plight of orphans and vulnerable children; the many child-headed households; inadequate school infrastructures and hygiene; illiteracy amongst parents/guardians; and many poorly educated and/or demotivated teaching staff in rural schools. Therefore, the term multiple deprivation (Bloch, 2009) more adequately describes the contexts in which these two women work, and have experienced principalship.
Background and context
The under-representation of women at principalship level is an international issue, and the situation is manifested in both developed and developing countries. ‘Women in educational management are in the minority in the UK but they are also in the minority in most other countries [including] those that constitute newly emerging economies’ (Coleman, 2002: 27).
It would seem that, despite the equal opportunities legislation introduced in many countries, including South Africa, in the last three decades, traditional stereotypes of women’s roles, position, characteristics and abilities continue to exist (Bozzoli, 1991; Coleman, 2002; Duff, 1990; Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011; Lumby et al., 2010; Mahlase, 1997; Moorosi, 2010; Naidoo, 2013; Parsadh, 2001; Smith, 2011; Uwamahoro, 2011). This stereotyping emanates from a deeply entrenched ‘enculturation’ process, which traditionally begins in the home, is overtly or covertly continued through the schooling process, and into the workplace and wider society. That there remains an inherent belief in the veracity of these stereotyped roles is evident in the attitudes towards women exhibited in the home and the workplace, and also in the self-limitation of women themselves in achieving against these perceptions. As Smith (2011) notes in her life history study, one female participant observed that, ‘Looking back over her life and career she reflected that, if she had not been a wife and mother, she could have become a headteacher’ (Smith, 2011: 517).
Globally, the barriers which exist to women achieving leadership positions are well known and researched (Blackmore, 1999; Bush and Kaparou, 2007; Coleman, 2002, 2012; Fitzgerald, 2003; Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011; Moorosi, 2010; Uwamahoro, 2011). However, in patriarchal societies where traditional patterns are linked with broadly hegemonic masculinities, these barriers may be greater in terms of customs and expectations of the male and female roles, which preclude or discourage women from seeking senior positions (Mahlase, 1997). Gender researchers have argued that the linear career model towards leadership positions, based on clear goals and professional development access, does not take account of the realities of women’s lives (Coleman, 2002; Evetts, 1994; Gunter, 2001; Hall, 1996; Smulyan, 2000). These ‘realities’ are shown to be part of the societal conditioning, context and ideologies which determine behaviours of women, through unchallenged and/or tacit participation by males and females, across the divides of generation, class and race in all societies and cultures (Bozzoli, 1991; Holdsworth, 1988; Mahlase, 1997; Smith, 2011). … in the case of the women of Phokeng, these ideologies contained notions of gender, age, royalty, property and patterns of deference and assertion … and their presence has had a substantial impact upon the structural position, experience and consciousness of the women as a result. (Bozzoli, 1991: 14)
This ‘conditioning’ and ‘consciousness’ may also be linked to a set of held beliefs, which are usually ‘buried at the level of unconscious assumptions’ (Mahlase, 1997: 96). They will have resulted from learned behaviours and values determined by family circumstances, prevailing attitudes at home, school or work, or through the media and advertising, and will manifest themselves in stereotypical attitudes which are hard to change.
In patriarchal societies a traditional division of labour is promulgated: a woman’s place is in the home, concerned with domestic matters and child rearing. The tasks that the patriarchal society has assigned to women usually have no extrinsic status or financial value attached outside the home. Class, religious issues and values all play a role in how deeply entrenched these beliefs are, in both men and women. In terms of patriarchy, many women are accustomed to being subordinate because they have been brought up to be that way, and changing this position is very difficult. Whilst legislation and equal opportunity workplace policies, favoured by liberal feminists, demand compliance, these may be actioned only at a minimal level in some societies, as the policies are often deeply unpopular, mistrusted and covertly opposed (Chisholm, 2001; Moorosi, 2007, 2010; Parsadh, 2001).
That there are still so few women in educational leadership positions particularly in co-educational high schools, despite the large number of women in the teaching workforce, remains an issue internationally (Coleman, 2002, 2012). This has a consequent impact on gender equality in reality, rather than as enshrined in many countries’ constitutions, and the inequalities that this situation may perpetuate particularly in patriarchal societies (Chisholm, 2001). It is well known that it is difficult to establish with any accuracy the numbers of women occupying school leadership positions, in any country, as Education Departments do not tend to issue figures differentiated by gender, or school sector. Grogan and Shakeshaft (2011) refer to this issue in the USA: ‘documenting women’s representation in formal leadership positions in schools is difficult because of the absence of reliable and comparable data either nationally or within and across states’ (Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011: 270). The difficulty of accessing more recent national statistics in South Africa, and the inaccuracy of those that were available, was highlighted following a Commonwealth project to map gender and leadership (Lumby et al., 2010). In recent gender studies conducted in the Gauteng province (Mia, 2014; Naidoo, 2013), only statistics from the Gauteng Department of Education (GDE) were available, showing that in 2012 women held only 33% of the GDE’s principals’ posts across all school sectors.
The paucity of women leaders would appear to be rooted in many factors. The most common of these are the traditional norms and behaviours associated with, and often required of, females. These traditional roles and responsibilities, linked to a patriarchal view of leadership being a masculine domain unsuited to females, constitute other obstructive factors. It has been the case in the past that women who aspire to, or achieve, leadership positions are regarded as ‘deviant from the female norm’ (Duff, 1990: 38), and are considered to be acting in a manner directly contradictory to conventions of gender-appropriate behaviour. She argued that ‘it takes a brave woman to break away from the accepted pattern of a culture that has been indoctrinated over generations’ (Duff, 1990: 45), given the societal expectations of the nurturing wife/mother roles which these South African women would undertake. The designating of these traditional roles and responsibilities is patently evident in both the developed and the developing world, though it affects the latter in more overt ways, as patriarchal attitudes are more prevalent (Coleman, 2002; Coleman and Fitzgerald, 2008; Lumby et al., 2010; Mia, 2014; Moorosi, 2007, 2010; Naidoo, 2013; Oplatka, 2006; Uwamahoro, 2011). But as Smith (2011) argues, women’s agency is often overlooked as a determinant of their power to shape their own lives and careers, ‘against the odds’.
This article aims to add to the body of knowledge of women in leadership. These women’s stories were selected because of the similarities of their contexts and how they, one black and one white, have experienced principalship in a predominately rural province in areas which still serve black communities only.
Methodology: narrative enquiry and life history
Everyone has stories to tell … and life history helps to remind us of this, as it also shows how individual lives are affected by when, where, how and by whom (in social positioning terms) they are lived. (Goodson and Sikes, 2001: 4)
My choice of this qualitative methodology was based on my interest in people and their lived experiences, which inform their actions, their choices, and their understanding of the social milieu they inhabit. Life history is also regarded as the preferred methodology in feminist research studies (Cohen et al., 2007; Elliott, 2005; Goodson and Sikes, 2001): this was therefore appropriate given the focus on women principals. The sample was purposive, determined by gender and position as principals of co-educational high schools. It was opportunity based, given my brief knowledge of them from the professional course they had attended with me, and determined on the basis of the interesting stories which I thought they had to tell.
The overarching factor in locating this study within the interpretivist paradigm is that it is rooted in the understanding that social reality is incontrovertibly associated with human beings, and the meaning they make of this as individuals: interpretivist research ‘… needs to be grounded in people’s experience … reality is not “out there” as an amalgam of external phenomena waiting to be uncovered as “facts” but a construct in which people understand reality in different ways’ (Morrison, 2012: 20).
The research was conducted primarily through respondent-led (rather than researcher-led) discussions and conversations on an individual basis in neutral spaces, such as coffee shops, which afforded informality and confidentiality away from work. A semi-structured questionnaire was developed, loosely based on Coleman’s (2001) study of secondary headteachers in the UK. I did not direct the conversations that emanated from the women’s responses to the biographical questions, but provided opportunities for the women to expand upon these and talk freely about themselves and their lives through an empathetic, conversational approach. I documented and interpreted these conversations from my notes and the voice recordings made during the two years I spent with them. As the data collection progressed and the women’s trust in me developed, in addition to telling the stories of their pathways, they wanted to share with me, as a confidant, their experiences of principalship: thus, very interesting insights were gained into their work and contexts. As researchers emphasise, there is nothing linear in qualitative research and, for the life history researcher, this factor is compounded by the unpredictable nature of respondent-led, narrative enquiry (Elliott, 2005; Floyd, 2012; Goodson and Sikes, 2001).
This article, therefore, draws on the specific data obtained from the women’s life stories through a life history approach which made meaning of their narrated experiences through grounded theory generation (Cohen et al., 2007; Dimmock and Lam, 2012; Floyd, 2012; Goodson and Sikes, 2001; McMillan and Schumacher, 2006; Scott and Morrison, 2007). Theory is emergent and must arise from particular situations; it should be ‘grounded’ in data generated by the research act … Investigators work directly with experience and understanding to build their theory on them. (Cohen et al., 2007: 22)
It is accepted in life history studies that accounts of the perspectives and interpretations of people in a variety of settings are both significant and pertinent, as they provide insights into how people come to terms with the constraints and conditions in which they work. It is this aspect which life history researchers have asserted may potentially make an important contribution to an understanding of the links between ‘personal troubles’ and ‘public issues’ (Ball and Goodson, 1985; Elliot, 2005; Goodson and Sikes, 2001; Smulyan, 2000). This factor raises issues of the validity and trustworthiness of the data collected: this is complex in life history studies, which pose specific challenges for the generally accepted measures of reliability (Bush, 2007; Elliott, 2005; McMillan and Schumacher, 2006). I considered that in my study, as Cohen et al. (2007) and Goodson and Sikes (2001) argue, the validity of any life history lies in its ability to represent the informant’s subjective reality, his or her definition of the situation. Therefore, validation and reliability could be assumed when I deemed the stories to be ‘…“accurate” or “valid” representations of the participant’s reality’ (Goodson and Sikes, 2001: 21).
Ethical considerations
Life history research imposes its own set of conditions for the protection of the participants over and above the accepted practices of ethics in any human subject research. The conversational interactions of this methodology meant that I had also become a trusted confidant. I needed to be a careful guardian of the sensitive information I had been privileged to hear from the very personal accounts of their life journeys and their experiences of principalship. ‘… although researchers know who has provided the information … are able to identify participants from the information given, they will in no way make the connection known publically …’ (Cohen et al., 2007: 65).
I was aware that preserving confidentiality and anonymity for the participants in the presentation and analysis of the data provided was of paramount importance in this research. Life stories involve the naming and description of others who are close to the participants (family members and friends), the places and institutions in the past which could be easily identified, and the meanings which are attached to these. It also details the events, and significant others, that are related to the participants’ experiences and their views on these, whether positive or negative. Therefore, I put in place various measures in addition to the use of pseudonyms. These included altering participants’ places of birth, family personal details, and the names of areas where they grew up and where they worked and lived.
Experiences of principalship: two women’s stories
… we all have different stories to tell … Each story belongs somewhere inside the general pattern, yet none of them quite fits; just as individual lives can never be … wholly explained by the social and economic realities that circumscribe them. (Heron, 1985: 1)
Elanie’s story
Elanie is 43 and the principal of a small high school in a deeply rural area. The school and community context is one where multiple deprivation is endemic, which impacts severely upon her leadership roles and responsibilities. She is one of the very few white women principals of high schools which, because of historic demographic factors, still serve black communities and pupils only. She became principal in 2011 at the age of 39 as an internal appointee: it is her first permanent principalship post. She is married with two very young children: A neighbouring high school’s principal passed away and the school was in need of strong leadership, so the Circuit Manager came to me and asked me if I was willing to act until the post was advertised. The school had been leaderless for some time and was not performing well in any area. My task was to turn this school around, a challenge in itself, and I would be the only woman, and a white woman at that, in a school leadership position in a very traditional rural community. I knew that this was a school in need and it would not be easy for me … that was an understatement … but I persevered and was permanently appointed a year later.
Elanie’s high school was opened 12 years ago having been split from the previous combined school serving the area: it is a Quintile 1 school (poorest, requiring most government funding for redress). There are, officially, 520 learners and 17 teachers, including Elanie. The school is situated in a traditional village area where most of the homes are ‘Zulu huts’ but with a few reconstruction and development programme (RDP) small brick houses. There are no tarred roads in the area and this is problematic during heavy rains, especially for the scholar transport that most learners use. There is a rural clinic facility in the village, access to water and, on the negative side for the school, a liquor store and a taxi rank, both of which are close to the school’s entrance. Elanie describes this as an added problem for the security of the learners, and their well-being, especially as there are many older male learners (aged from 18–22) still enrolled at the school. Alcohol, drug and sexual abuse are serious concerns in this very impoverished area, where there are negligible employment prospects, and limited or no parental support. The girls are very vulnerable and often exposed to intimidation into unsafe and underage sex. Rape is not uncommon and teenage pregnancy is increasing: this latter creates huge problems in the management of the school. Elanie says that trying to do the best educationally and socially for a pregnant learner, who is often the head of a household, is a matter of conflict between her, the district officials and departmental policy, and the generally very unsympathetic staff. Elanie expresses her concern that: Parental involvement and care is almost non-existent as most of our learners are in child-headed households, or looked after by gogos (grannies) or other relatives … the impact of HIV and Aids is huge here so there are very few parents anyway. Some parents are alive but this is such a poverty stricken area they have to find work in the big cities so they are not available for meetings or discussions. The gogos try but many are totally illiterate, have little or no experience of high school, so are too nervous to come. We have a feeding scheme which all our learners use, and for most it is their only daily meal. I know that some of our female learners will sell their bodies to obtain food … it breaks my heart as a mother and a teacher but they see it as an only option.
Elanie clearly feels deeply that so much needs to be done to improve the educational opportunities for the learners, but she is faced with what she describes as almost ‘insurmountable odds’ in both the school and the community: The school is in very poor condition even though it is not that old – but everything is so dilapidated and in disrepair. The classrooms are not learning friendly though we have desks and chairs. We have borehole water, electricity and an admin block so we are luckier than some. A major hygiene problem is having only five female and two male toilets, there is supposed to be one toilet for every 12 learners. The girls won’t use the toilets, which we battle to keep clean and functioning, and they stay away when they are menstruating so absenteeism problems are made worse … many girls stay away from school anyway because of domestic duties, so their education opportunities are always limited.
Elanie is clear that the problems besetting the school are compounded by the lack of support from the community: a lack which she says stems from passivity and helplessness, not antagonism. She also knows it is from ‘ignorance’, feelings of intimidation, and because she is a woman leader in a very traditional area. She does not feel that the problem is because she is white, as there was no hostility from the community or the Nkosi (traditional leaders) when she was appointed: they welcomed her as an ‘educated person’ who would help their children. The problem is that she is female, and her role as a leader is at odds with the traditional, patriarchal view of leadership being a male preserve: she can teach, that is what women can do, but she must observe the culture and customs of the male preserve: I was told at an Ndaba (traditional meeting) that I could not sit at the same table as the men as this was not their custom. I could share my views outside the meeting and the men would consider these. It was said respectfully, but I was furious, ‘well it’s not my culture’ I wanted to say and ‘it’s against our Constitution’ but it would have done no good … just caused more problems. The men were not hostile, they just wanted me to ‘know my place’ as they saw it.
Elanie is a committed Christian and a ‘fighter for justice’. Her descriptions of principalship embody both her fierce intention to ‘make things better’ for the learners, and her deep frustration at what she sees as interference and a lack of professionalism from the majority of the staff, who thwart her efforts to improve the school and the learning opportunities by ‘insisting on their rights, ignoring those of the learners and attempting to prevent me from executing my responsibilities’. There is some antipathy towards her and scepticism amongst the staff, both male and female, who exhibit an attitude of ‘you only got the job because you are a woman’. She describes most of them as ‘just pay cheque collectors’ and knows that her views on this have created hostility. As she explained what this post means to her, she recalled the words attributed to President Roosevelt: ‘If you have strong opinions then peace is not an option’.
As a result of her efforts to improve this very deprived school, Elanie has experienced many confrontations as she has tried to explain, to encourage participation, to uphold her legal obligations, and implement the changes required of her as principal. The staff is predominantly male, and all are members of the major teaching union, SADTU (South African Democratic Teachers’ Union). Elanie’s only experience with a union lies with SADTU, and she finds these members ‘very disrespectful, bossy and one track minded’: in this behaviour she says that they are following the example of the union’s male site official: They suggested the only solution is to resign as I do not understand their ways. The worst is that whenever I try to implement something that will help the learners this creates conflict with the SADTU members who threaten me with action, saying that if I do not do as they want they will ensure the school becomes ungovernable.
Elanie also points out that she experiences problems of asserting authority in managing the learners, particularly the young male learners (aged between 18 and 22) who display negative and patronising attitudes towards all the women teachers but especially to her as the principal. Disrespect, though often of the ‘dumb insolence’ kind, is a daily experience. She would like to be a role model for the girls but this too is problematic as she says the girls are intimidated by their male peers and the male staff into exhibiting disrespect, not just to her but to the female teachers. She describes the disrespect to women in authority as: Not being given a chance to finish your point, constantly interrupting, and not keeping you informed on issues you should know so as to purposely make trouble. I know they refer to me as ‘this girl’ … and it makes me mad but I would never let them see this, I will not allow them to humiliate me but I think that black women especially are easily intimidated by males in my school and community context.
Elanie is emphatic that this corrosive hostility towards her authority from both staff and learners is manifested in personally threatening and educationally damaging protests. She cited several incidents in the last two years regarding responses to the classroom changes implemented with the support of the SMT (school management team): We wanted to combine the grade 9 learners, creating two classes from three classes to release teachers as our human resources are always a challenge. It wasn’t ideal but was the best solution we had. The learners were upset and, supported by some of the educators, a riot broke out. They threw stones, breaking windows and damaging my car. I tried to talk to them but the situation got worse, so the SMT escorted me back to my office, standing guard until the police came … everything and every day is a challenge, the list grows longer.
Elanie’s description of this event, though matter of fact initially, became increasingly emotional as she relived that incident: clearly a terrifying ordeal. She wiped away tears as she explained: Of course these things upset me and my husband. I have small children and they mean the world to me. I don’t want to be stressed out to the limit every day. The dangers of principalship in these schools are many, especially for women, and the pressure it puts on one’s family is incredible. I often think I am not being fair on them and that it is selfish of me to continue this work but I know I am driven to do so, even though this often conflicts with my role as a wife and mother.
But Elanie continues to immerse herself in the ‘huge task’ that she had taken on, and knows that she is fortunate to be totally encouraged and supported by her husband, and sustained by her faith and blind certainty: That I really can make a difference. I sometimes think it is because I am a mother that I can see the bigger picture. Someone has to care and to show this care whatever happens … sadly I don’t see much evidence of this in the school from others. I am a peacemaker by nature, but when I see the hurt and the injustices that are perpetrated by those very educators who should be protecting the young and vulnerable then it is like unleashing an animal that I didn’t know existed in me. I will fight for these learners and their rights to a decent education, to fulfil ‘God’s purpose for my life’, it is this that strengthens me.
Maropeng’s story
Maropeng is 57 and the principal of a large high school in a deeply rural area. The school and community context is one where multiple deprivation is endemic, and crime a serious problem: all of which impacts severely upon on her leadership roles and responsibilities. She became principal in 2012 as an internal appointee, after holding the acting principal’s position during the previous year. It is her first permanent principalship post. She is divorced with a grown-up daughter: In January 2011 my principal informed me that he was retiring. I was not surprised because he had taken a back seat in the running of the school for some time, leaving the job to me. I had learned a lot during this time so knew what I was letting myself in for. I was very happy to be appointed acting principal in April 2011 and I knew that I deserved to be appointed permanently.
Maropeng had faith that this was what ‘God wanted me to do’ and she had the support of her mother and daughter. She applied for the permanent post despite misgivings about her chances as a woman leader in a very traditional community and context: Although I was the acting principal, I knew that leadership positions were awarded mainly to men and on the basis of political or union affiliation more than personal ability, integrity or values. But I wanted the chance and used the opportunity to voice my views on why I was the best person for the job. I wanted to be the first female principal, and the prospect of the leadership I could provide fuelled my desire to succeed and turn this school around. I was appointed to the principal’s post from January 2012.
The high school was established 24 years ago, its funding category is Quintile 1. There are, officially, 695 learners and 18 teachers, including Maropeng. The school is situated within a traditional rural area with settlements spread over a wide radius. Most of the homes are traditional huts and some shacks, with a few RDP small brick houses. There are only dirt roads in the area and when heavy rains occur this creates problems of access for the learners, and for the teachers who live many kilometres from the school. There is also a river close by which is prone to flooding, and flash floods are a particular danger. The province is constructing a bridge for the benefit of the community which will also alleviate some of the school’s problems. There is no scholar transport as most of the learners live in outlying regions of less than 15 kilometres distance, which is the range imposed by the province, so many walk very long distances to school. There is a rural clinic facility in the village, which gives priority to learners who are sick. Stomach upsets are rife because of limited access to safe drinking water, which creates many health problems for the whole community.
Maropeng described the very serious crime problems which impact upon the school. This includes weapons carrying, alcohol, drug and sexual abuse. She is very concerned that the learners’ well-being is severely compromised, and it is difficult to manage this problem given that there are many older learners (20 plus) still enrolled. To try to lessen the impact of this, the school is working with the district on an anti-crime and drug campaign; but district resources are stretched and in this very impoverished area, with negligible employment prospects, and limited or no parental support, she says ‘it is difficult to remain optimistic that the school can change attitudes’. Maropeng relates many incidents where girls are known to ‘sell sexual services’ for food, and although she and other female staff try to counsel them: The stark reality is that this is a ‘sell myself or starve’ situation. These girls are generally Aids orphans caring for younger siblings, or they are abandoned by their parents, they have no relatives, so of course they are very vulnerable to all of the social ills besetting the area, the school can only do so much. I often go home and weep buckets because of the little I can do, but then every morning I know I must do what I can … just one girl child escaping this vicious circle of poverty and exploitation is a joyous outcome.
Maropeng portrays the school as run down and dilapidated, with inadequate infrastructure and learner unfriendly classrooms. There are recently built pit latrines for both male and female learners as the previous toilets were vandalised and were unsafe. The lack of a reliable water supply exacerbates the health problems, which are a serious concern for the school, especially for girls who stay away ‘at that time of the month’, affecting their education even more adversely.
The major issues that Maropeng has identified in her attempts ‘to turn the school around’ hinge on improving educator performance and attitude. She refers to them as ‘unionised self-serving individuals who try to infect everyone with their unprofessional attitudes’. This disaffection has been noticed and complained of to Maropeng by the learners, but there have been no protests or interruptions, nor threats to her from this quarter. The threats have come from the educators who say they ‘will make the school ungovernable’ if Maropeng and the newly formed School Management Team continue to ‘infringe our rights’. Maropeng defended her actions, which came about because of the increase in the ‘already unacceptable level of absenteeism’ amongst educators: Educators were taking too much leave and would not submit the requisite forms. So I insisted, correctly, on leave without pay where this infringement took place. SADTU was called in and I was threatened with school disruptions by the male site official. There was no discussion; they said it was their members’ rights, but the learners’ rights were ignored. They were challenging my authority, I am a woman leader, and this is contrary to their culture and traditions. But they underestimated me … I will not back down when defending a just cause: in this case the learners’ right to be taught. Anyway, I may be of their race but I am not acceptant of a culture that supports women’s subordinate role.
Maropeng’s principalship remains fraught with difficulties through the continuing disengagement of the majority of the staff. Discussions on workload, monitoring of learner achievements, of additional teaching activities and attempts to build school teams have halted because of the ‘them and us’ attitude prevailing. Yet despite this, those staff committed to working for the learners have been a source of strength and the school has achieved better results in the last two years. She is not a woman who will give up, nor is she ‘going away’: she is adamant that she will not be driven out by ‘threats, ignorance and out-dated patriarchal attitudes’ to her authority. Maropeng continues to immerse herself in the ‘huge task’ that she had taken on: It’s a continuing struggle to do what’s right for the learners … they all need to grow and learn and achieve what they are capable of … where they come from shouldn’t matter. It is sad that little has changed for the poorest in our society, and that our great profession now has many unprofessional and uncaring people. This work is ‘God’s calling’ for my life. I became a principal so that I could use that position to achieve more for those in my care, and I have never regretted that decision.
Discussion
The narratives of these women’s experiences revealed two key findings: the negative and hostile attitudes displayed towards them and their authority as women leaders in these traditional, patriarchal communities, and the serious nature of the union’s male site officials’ contestation with both women. This culminated in the disruption of teaching and learning, and incitement to riot, which affected both schools to varying degrees. In both cases the women remained strong and resolute in the face of these challenges, as their duty and responsibility was to maintain control in order to provide better educational provision. Leadership unpopularity did not deter them; they placed care for the learners above all else in their efforts to minimise the impact of the multiple deprivations existing in their respective school and wider communities. Their narratives make clear that integral to their work is the demonstration of their deeply held religious beliefs and a conviction that being a principal is a means of ‘fulfilling God’s purpose’ for their lives.
This belief in service, duty and care is a recurring theme in much of the literature on women school leaders’ narratives (Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011; Lumby et al., 2010; Smith, 2011). There is evidence of the way women principals determine to ‘lead caring, nurturing institutions in which the focus is constantly on pupil welfare and achievement’ (Smith, 2011: 531). Both Maropeng and Elanie work against the odds to deliver on these aspects and do not allow bullying and intimidation, specifically from male officials, to detract them from their purpose.
Elanie’s strength was revealed when she described ‘the animal inside released’, as she ‘fought back’ to maintain discipline and structure in the school: it was the threat to the school and the learners, not to her, that released this ‘tigress’. It also revealed how, as a mother herself, she felt for these young people, and wanted to provide care through focussed concern for their well-being, as the school must try to ameliorate the contextual problems, not exacerbate them through internal strife and conflict. Maropeng describes ‘weeping buckets’ as she considers the extent to which all the learners are affected by the dire conditions at school and in the community. This is especially due to the vulnerability of the girls and the abuse they are exposed to on a daily basis: as a mother of a daughter herself, she is ‘heart sore’ at the life these children are forced into.
The theory of ‘mothering’ or ‘nurturing’ characteristics in female leaders is introduced in gender research internationally (Coleman and Fitzgerald, 2008; Grogan and Shakeshaft, 2011; Lawrence-Lightfoot and Davis, 1997; Lumby et al., 2010; Moorosi, 2010; Smith, 2011; Smulyan, 2000). When linked to caring, compassionate and relational leadership traits then the picture that emerges from these two women’s experiences is a composite one: care and nurture, coupled with a strong sense of duty and service above all for the good of those for whose education they are responsible.
Both Elanie and Maropeng experienced strong opposition to their leadership and authority, from staff and learners of both genders, which had adverse effects on their desire to be role models and mentors. The intention to build positive relationships and boost staff morale and well-being was met with apathy, negativity or outright resistance and hostility. However, Elanie did not feel that her authority and position was challenged because she was white, as she had not experienced any overt racial hostility as a cross boundary leader (Bush and Moloi, 2006). She was certain that it was because she was a woman in a traditional community and would not be subservient: the cross boundary issue was not apparent in her experience, as she clearly states in her accounts of the interactions. Maropeng, however, was convinced that as she is a Sotho woman in a very male dominated Zulu culture, the challenges to her position were also driven by a degree of ethnic antagonism from the school community.
The more unexpected and distressing factor for both women was that there was ‘no sisterhood’, as might have been expected, to unite efforts to erode gender inequality and discrimination in the work place (Coleman, 2002; Coleman and Fitzgerald, 2008; Lawrence-Lightfoot, 1997; Naidoo, 2013; Perumal, 2007). This was further evidence of the deeply entrenched patriarchal attitudes and beliefs in these communities, and the difficulties of changing these despite the strength, resilience and sheer determination of these women principals to set examples and model best leadership practice (Bozzoli, 1991; Lumby et al., 2010; Mahlase, 1997; Mia, 2014; Moorosi, 2007; Uwamahoro, 2011).
Their experiences show how Elanie and Maropeng withstood the pressures, the dangers and the challenges which their principalships present in these multiply deprived contexts, in traditional, patriarchal communities. The analysis of their experiences indicates strongly that spiritual leadership is the key factor in the underpinning leitmotif of their execution of principalship roles and responsibilities. Grogan and Shakeshaft’s (2011) research presents five categories of leadership that inform principalship, and of these, ‘leading for social justice’, and ‘spiritual leadership’ are ranked most highly by women. The passionate desire, exhibited by Elanie and Maropeng, to lead others in duty and service, to continue willingly against the odds to ‘turn around’ their schools, is evidence of their deep spiritual leadership characteristics, and their commitment to education as a means of achieving social justice and equity for the learners for whom they care.
Conclusion
These women’s experiences of principalship are adversely affected by the prevailing and entrenched patriarchal attitudes within the communities they serve. As research shows, these attitudes will not easily be changed simply because policy and legislation has. This is particularly so in South Africa, where patriarchy continues its hold with regard to power over, and subjugation of, women (Bozzoli, 1991; Chisholm, 2001; Lumby et al., 2010; Mahlase, 1997; Mia, 2014; Mogadime, et al., 2010; Moorosi, 2007, 2010; Naidoo, 2013; Perumal, 2007). Liberal feminism has, through the provision of equal opportunities legislation and other measures, failed to bring about real change. It would seem that a radical feminist approach is more appropriate in the prevailing circumstances, given the need to change attitudes to women’s rights to hold positions of leadership and authority, and their competence to do so.
Maropeng and Elanie are strong women who demonstrate this more radical approach to their leadership positions, despite their initial reluctance to do so. They refuse to be intimidated, or driven out, by the negative and hostile attitudes they are exposed to in the schools. Clearly, unfailing support from their families is a source of strength enabling them to continue against the odds. Although they are often conflicted between home and work/life balance, as research indicates that women in these positions invariably are (Coleman, 2002; Lumby et al., 2010; Moorosi, 2010; Naidoo, 2013; Smulyan, 2000; Uwamahoro, 2011), their ability to overcome the known barriers and constraints of the patriarchal societies in which they work shows their commitment and their ‘agency’ (Smith, 2011). I would extrapolate from this that ‘agency’, in its manifestation of self-confidence, self-belief and a strong sense of purpose, is a key determinant in women’s ability to demonstrate their capabilities against the odds (Coleman, 2001). It is apparent that for the two women in this study, their ‘agency’ is uncompromisingly coupled with their deeply held religious faith and their conviction that they are doing ‘God’s work’: it is this that informs their sense of purpose.
As Maropeng and Elanie continue their work, it is apparent that they are now benefitting from further support, as their involvement in this research process has brought them together, and also into contact with the other women involved in the wider study. Networking is a positive way to share and manage the problems besetting them. It also provides ‘a united voice’ when approaching their districts for support in mediating the major school issues of ill-discipline, absenteeism, and obstruction by SADTU of the principal’s legal and curriculum responsibilities. The two women are also working towards closer community engagement and, although this is not easy to achieve in their contexts, it could result in a more positive school climate for all.
It must be emphasised that the findings of this study are not, nor are intended to be, generalisable. Further longitudinal research is needed to begin to understand fully the implications for women principals, and those aspiring to this position, in the many multiply deprived, traditional patriarchal communities in South Africa.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
