Governance in South African schools: Democratic advancement or hindrance?

Introduction

As observed by Ainley and McKenzie (2000: 139), decentralisation of decision-making, increasing local authority and enhanced autonomy of schools have been common features of recent changes in the organisation of public education in countries such as South Africa. Notwithstanding the diverse political landscapes of these countries, which include a host of OECD states, the last four decades have seen considerable changes in the administrative, funding and supervisory relationships between central education authorities and individual schools and groups of schools (Ainley and McKenzie, 2000: 139). The common belief underpinning these changes, explain Ainley and McKenzie (2000: 140), is that devolution of authority to schools will enhance the quality, effectiveness and responsiveness of public education. A similar view resonates in the policies which saw the introduction of decentralised school governing bodies (SGBs) in public schools in South Africa. Unique to the South African context, however, is the direct connection between the initiation of SGBs and the onset of a post-apartheid democracy in 1994.

Philosophically, SGBs are considered an enactment of the principles of inclusivity (of all stakeholders) and decentralisation (of authority) and have been constructed with the intention of addressing a very specific agenda, namely cultivating democracy through parental and community participation. Politically, however, SGBs have brought to the fore unabridged disparities between historically advantaged and historically disadvantaged schools and communities – bringing into question not only their philosophical imperative but also their impact upon the fostering of a democratic society.

The first section of the article looks at the concept of governance, with a specific focus on SGBs as an enactment of governance in public schools in South Africa. The second half looks at the ensuing tensions between governance and notions of democratisation and reconsiders the potential role that parents can play in democratising schools through practices of inclusion.

Organisational arrangements for governing schools, states Mintrom (2001: 622), vary from highly centralised and regulated state school systems to models of single school governance with lay involvement – that is, parents and community members. Local governance, he continues, provides a means of increasing the effectiveness and efficiency of school management, while retaining state control. The assumption is that through decentralising and devolving authority and responsibility, the onus of governance is transferred from the principal to the parents (Bush and Gamage, 2001: 39). Parents, therefore, are afforded greater involvement in their child’s school and schooling, while principals and teachers are supported in the daily functioning and management of the school. Decentralisation via school-based governance structures have gradually become synonymous with calls for equity, excellence, accountability and choice (Allen and Plank, 2005: 512).

In Australia, for example, report Ainley and McKenzie (2000: 139), public schools have experienced significant changes in the administrative, funding and supervisory relationships between central education authorities and individual schools and groups of schools. They explain that the common belief underpinning these changes is that ‘devolution of authority to schools will enhance the quality, effectiveness and responsiveness of public education’ (Ainley and McKenzie, 2000: 139). To Ainley and McKenzie (2000: 140), the changes towards school autonomy in Australia have tended to be more sweeping than in systems where political responsibility and funding sources for schooling are much more decentralised, such as in the USA. Similar patterns of decentralisation were evident in New Zealand’s Tomorrow’s Schools reforms in 1989. Described by Wylie (2007: 5) as one of the most radical aspects of the reform measures, school boards of trustees (BoTs), constituted by a parent majority, were afforded unprecedented positions of responsibility. Wylie (2007: 1) explains that the original Tomorrow’s Schools framework expected BoTs to bring schools closer to their communities, through parents taking a more active role in setting their school’s directions, and parents electing those they trust with this responsibility, and that local voluntary governance of schools would be beneficial to schools and students. The framework was premised on assumptions that parents or community members with relevant expertise would be attracted to make a contribution to the local school by standing for the board; that the parent community would be well represented, both in terms of their expertise and in terms of a recognition of the diverse backgrounds of learners; and that they would establish good working relationships with school staff (Wylie, 2007: 5).

School governance in post-apartheid South Africa

Generally, school governance involves the design, implementation and supervision of all school-based policies and guidelines. Unlike School Management Teams (SMTs), which are focused on teaching and learning, the concern of governance is that of the overall functioning and (financial) wellbeing of the school. The primary motivation of governance reforms in post-apartheid South Africa is the democratisation of schooling. Informing this motivation is the argument that the greater the levels of participation and decision-making from various stakeholders, the greater the opportunity for the cultivation of schools as democratic spaces. Organising schools along democratic lines creates contexts which are conducive not only to participation and deliberation but also ensure the nurturing of a kind of citizenship necessary for the advancement of a democratic society. The Education White Paper 2 (DoE, 1996b: 16) states that ‘governance policy for public schools is based on the core values of democracy’, which include representation of all stakeholder groups, participation, tolerance, rational discussion and collective decision-making. Although the core values are largely attitudinal and may be developed experientially, explains Karlsson (2002: 328–329), the values of representation and participation are addressed explicitly in the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a). By affording meaningful power and responsibility to parents and other stakeholders on the SGB, the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a) has given effect to the principles of the democratisation of schooling (CEPD, 2002: 134). Indeed, the importance of the provision for the establishment of SGBs is vested not only in an understanding of the school and its community (or communities) as an ecology but also in the capacity of that ecology to cultivate and enact the democratic mandate of the state.

As highlighted by Woolman and Fleisch (2008: 47), not everyone, however, is in agreement on the motivation, purpose and level of power of the SGB. The contestation is divided among those who are dismissive of the idea that the SGB has any real power (Beckmann 2002, cited in Woolman and Fleisch, 2008: 47), those who consider the SGB as constitutive of a global neo-liberal agenda – implying that the granting of rights comes at a huge financial cost to parents (Sayed 1999; Sayed and Carrim, 1997), and those like Woolman and Fleisch (2008: 48) who argue that ‘SGBs provide a vehicle for popular political participation that is quite real, and that participation is made no less real by the strictures imposed upon them by our constitutional and regulatory order’.

In terms of the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa Act 108 of 1996, through section 29, everyone in South Africa has the fundamental right to a basic education while obliging the state to respect, protect, promote and fulfil this right (section 7). Given the enormity of this undertaking, and in light of its critical importance to the wellbeing of society, the Constitution allows for the establishment of organisations of structures and institutions (sections 91 and 92) as well as the distribution of its functions (section 104). Hence, the South African Schools Act No. 84 (DoE, 1996a) consequently proposes a partnership between the state, parents, educators and learners concerning the funding, governance and organisation of schools, which has led to the establishment of public SGBs. In this sense, the state fulfils the right to a basic education at a macro level through the provision of schools by provincial authorities, and at a micro level through SGBs exercising their statutory powers (Visser, 2003: 340).

Karlsson (2002: 328) explains that the South African ideal of democratic governing bodies, which would involve representatives of various constituencies in a school community, was born in the aftermath of the 1976 Soweto school uprising and the development of a People’s Education discourse in the 1980s. The problem for the ANC, according to Karlsson (2002: 328), was twofold. They needed to find a way of establishing a single uniform system of public schooling that would permit redistributive state funding to schools, serving the poorest communities, while simultaneously retaining the support of middle-class families who might remove their children from the public school system. Hence, the solution offered in the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a), is a compromised postmodern attempt to simultaneously ‘acknowledge and address the diverse school histories of under-development and self-management’ (Karlsson, 2002: 328). This is an important point to bear in mind, since it evokes at least two considerations. On the one hand, the idea of a compromise suggests a set of agreed upon decisions or concessions which might not be beneficial to all parties but which might have the intended purpose of maintaining some sort of understanding. On the other, a compromise might also suggest less than desirable conditions for one or both of the parties involved. In the case of post-apartheid South Africa, this compromise continues to render a particular landscape where a number of historically advantaged schools seem intent on preserving an apartheid status quo, while historically disadvantaged learners persistently demand access.

Although underscored by different historical experiences and framed by a stark authoritarian climate, the concept of governance in both historically advantaged and disadvantaged schools is not new to the South African discourse. While parents and other stakeholders had limited say at historically advantaged schools and had to exercise their limited powers through school management councils, parents at historically disadvantaged schools virtually had no say in their children’s education (Beckmann and Prinsloo, 2009: 173). The restrictions imposed on parent, learner and community involvement at historically disadvantaged schools, according to Beckmann and Prinsloo (2009: 173), forced them ‘to snatch participatory powers by forming groups like Parents-Teachers-Students Associations (PTSAs) which exercised powers they did not legally have’. Moreover, unlike the experiences of the majority of white learners and parents – for whom the school represented an uninterrupted extension of the home – to the majority of black learners and parents, schools were the instruments of the state, which, by definition, needed to be defied and even destroyed as a sign of protest (Waghid and Davids, 2013: 46).

To Woolman and Fleisch (2008: 58–59), the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a) extends substantive decision-making authority to SGBs and constitutes a veritable ‘gold mine’ for the maintenance of existing stores of social capital and the creation of new stores of social capital. This gold mine, which, according to Van Wyk (2004: 52), allows SGBs to establish a school’s character and ethos, includes adopting a constitution; determining policies for admission, language, religion, homework, discipline and extra-mural programmes; maintaining school property; recommending the appointment of staff; and managing the finances, which includes setting school fees (DoE, 1996).

Inasmuch as these responsibilities are underscored by unprecedented levels of decision-making, as well as the advancement of democratic participation, they infer a sophisticated level of skills and knowledge which the majority of SGBs might not be capable of assuming. The latter has led to Beckman and Prinsloo’s (2009: 174) assertion that although decentralisation creates the expectation of greater democratic participation, this is not necessarily the case. What has become apparent is the inevitable tensions and gaps in light of the implementation of a generic governance institution, when the point of departure is so hopelessly unequal.

In turn, research on SGBs has focused extensively on two contrasting narratives, underscored by an imbalance of power – that is, either the incapacity of parents to fulfil their mandate, or a dominance of parental involvement, which often undermines the principal’s authority. These are, of course, not the only narratives. There are others which reflect exceptional levels of functionality and academic performance of schools, thanks largely to highly efficient and resourceful SGBs. These SGBs are occupied by highly skilled individuals, who are able to bring specialised skills and expertise, which include financial management, human resource management, fundraising and marketing, and access to a wide range of networks. In these cases, the partnership and support brought about by parents, communities and extended networks provide real instances of decentralised participation, responsibility and accountability. The kind of collective decision-making which characterises these kinds of partnerships exemplifies what the democratisation of schools can achieve. Key to the success of such partnerships are not only committed and informed parents but also parents who are actually afforded a voice and involvement in the daily functioning of schools. They are not perceived as a threat to the principal’s authority; they are not excluded from decision-making; rather, they are invited into the education system as equal participants – actions characteristic of a democracy.

These narratives, unfortunately, are not commonly encountered. Very little, if any, attention has been afforded to the role of the SGB in relation to democratising and diversifying schools. As a result, much has been written about the (in)capacity of, particularly, black parental involvement in schools (Heystek, 1999; Mestry, 2006; Singh et al., 2004; Xaba, 2011); the increasing strain between SGBs and education authorities, who are intent on curtailing what they perceive as the over-extension of governance functions (Clase et al., 2007; Maree and Lowenherz, 1998; Beckmann and Prinsloo, 2009; Serfontein, 2010); the role of the SGB in relation to the widening gaps between already widely disparate schools (Beckmann and Prinsloo, 2009; Sayed, 1999); and questions around decentralisation and the democratisation of schools (Adams and Waghid, 2005; Karlson, 2002; Mabovula, 2009; Mncube, 2008, 2009; Sayed and Carrim, 1997; Van Wyk, 2007).

The concern of this article, however, is the potential role that parents could play in democratising schools through practices of inclusion. The ensuing discussion will look at the specific roles and responsibilities of parents on the SGB. This is followed by a conceptual exploration of current practices and actions of SGBs that might be considered as counter-intuitive not only to the democratising agenda of the SGB but also to the transformation of public schools in South Africa.

Parental roles and responsibilities on the SGB

Generally, education literature propagates the connection between parental involvement and learner achievement. Scholars like Vassallo (2000: 1) argue that the key to school reform is the parent. Lemmer (2007: 218) shares that good school, family and community partnerships lead to improved academic learner achievement, self-esteem, school attendance and social behaviour. She maintains that parents and teachers experience mutual support and satisfaction in achieving positive changes in children and the school. The topic of parental involvement in schools, however, remains an inconsistent one. On the one hand, Dietz (1997: 2), for instance, explains that because of the way in which parental involvement is constructed – through governance, for example – only a fraction of the parent community participates. On the other, Epstein (1995: 702) points out that the preference of most parents is not for involvement through SGBs but for involvement in their own children’s learning.

Thanks to the intensely differentiated schooling contexts in South Africa, parents from historically advantaged and disadvantaged schools have had, and continue to have, widely disparate experiences of school involvement and participation. Unlike parents at historically advantaged schools, parents from historically disadvantaged schools have had little to no experience of management or participation in their schools. Studies, like those conducted by Singh et al. (2004), confirm that levels of involvement and participation by black parents remain wholly inadequate, and unless parents from impoverished areas are empowered, they will not be able to offer a meaningful contribution to their children’s learning, or to schools in terms of fulfilling a governance function. As a result, historically advantaged schools are likely to have more effective SGBs than historically disadvantaged schools, not only because of disparate apartheid-induced histories, but because these reforms have yet to bring about the kind of social justice restructuring necessary for the transformation of South African society.

In terms of section 23(9) of the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a), schools are required to conduct SGB elections every three years. Beyond national, provincial and local government elections, the election of SGBs is considered among the biggest and most representative of community stakeholders in the country. As policy, these elections represent a significant example of democracy in action, as individuals from an array of backgrounds, and without any prerequired qualifications, are invited to actively participate in the daily functioning of their child’s school. The SA Schools Act (DoE, 1999a) stipulates that parents must constitute the majority of the members of the SGB – specifically, that the number of parents in any SGB must be at least half plus one of the total combined number of members with voting rights. The rationale for this power balance, explains Karlsson (2002: 329), is that parents of enrolled learners have the greatest stake in the school’s development and the quality of teaching and learning within the school. Moreover, and in line with a decentralisation agenda, the chairperson of the SGB has to be a parent, thereby enacting a partnership of mutual responsibility with the principals.

While not the focus of this article, it is important to note that although parents are afforded extensive powers on the SGB, there are a number of complex challenges which impact upon and often derail parental involvement. At a very practical level, parents in poorer communities simply do not have the means or the time to participate in the expectations and responsibilities of an SGB. These parents work long hours and are reliant on an unreliable and unsafe transport system, which hampers basic parental involvement. This means they are unable to attend additional meetings, which are generally held during late evenings. From the outset, therefore, most parents in impoverished communities cannot participate in school governance. There are no easy ways to address matters such as these without in-depth considerations of broader socio-economic conditions. These include not only matters pertaining to the availability and access of parents to schools but also to the additional trend of children not necessarily attending schools within their communities, which, of course, necessitates another level of interrogation regarding the perceptions of the quality of education at different schools and in different contexts. Where it is possible to overcome these external barriers, there are even more complex internal barriers which might continue to constrain parental involvement. On the one hand, there are the dual concerns of literacy and capacity. In the context of historically disadvantaged schools, parents lack the knowledge, skills and required literacy levels for participation (Matshe, 2014; Mestry, 2006; Mohapi and Netshitangani, 2018; Nwosu and Chukwuere, 2017). The incapacity of parents to fulfil the governance functions is frequently used by principals to justify why they often assume the responsibilities of the SGB (Mohapi and Netshitangani, 2018; Xaba, 2011). In turn, says Xaba (2011: 208), parents blame educators for undermining them and looking down upon them because of their so-called illiteracy. Consequently, in spite of having the majority representation on the SGB, many parents serving on SGBs are reticent and rely on the principal and teachers for leadership and guidance in decision-making.

On the other hand, SGBs are, at times, viewed as vehicles for political recognition and advancement by parents, local community members and businesses, who might stand to gain from school contracts. According to a report by Corruption Watch (2018: 13), within the first six months of 2018, 10.8% of the cases of corruption received showed a continuing trend of principals, SGB members and staff members ‘conspiring and colluding to rob schools of funds and resources or to flout procurement and employment processes, with the sole goal of creating favourable conditions for acquaintances, friends and relatives who seek procurement deals and employment opportunities’. The abuse of power by SGB members holds particular implications not only for the basic functioning of a school in terms of teaching of learning but also places the role of SGBs at risk in terms of their own function in a democracy.

The challenges encountered at historically advantaged schools are remarkably different from those experienced at historically disadvantaged schools. Predominant problems and constraints at historically disadvantaged schools can be couched in terms of poor skills and literacy, as well as distance from schools and lack of time (Van Wyk, 2007: 134). The problems at historically advantaged schools, however, pertain to the exclusion of significant parent-stakeholders (Carrim, 2001: 99). Exclusion plays out differently in different contexts. The Ministerial Review Committee on School Governance (DoE, 2004: 52) found that even in racially homogenous settings, better educated and the economically more stable members of the community dominate the SGB. In turn, even where learner demographics have shifted and the school is quite diverse, parent representation on the SGB remains in the control of the (historical) dominant racial group (Karlsson, 2002; Van Wyk, 2007). Van Wyk (2007: 132) reports that principals justify the unequal representation of parents on SGBs with statements like: ‘black parents did not want to become involved’ – even when this perception has never been verified. In this regard, Karlsson (2002: 331) maintains that while SGBs have been introduced with the intention of democratising schools, the South Schools Act (DoE, 1996a) ‘provides no mechanism for avoiding and overcoming a re-enactment of the traditional power relations in South Africa in terms of gender, class and race. Nor does it ensure racial heterogeneity when constituencies comprise diverse racial groups’.

SGBs and their tension with democratisation

On the one hand, processes or systems of democratisation infer a shift in power, which seemingly secures the involvement of principals, SMTs and parents, via SGBs. This school-based partnership between principals, SMTs and SGBs, however, varies in relation to school functionality and contexts. SMTs, by virtue of their own responsibilities, do not necessarily get involved in governance processes, leaving it to the principal. This is because governance functions are perceived as additional responsibilities which generally occur outside of school hours. It is also often the case that post-level one teachers, as opposed to senior teachers, are nominated onto SGBs – a trend which cuts across school contexts. On the other hand, democratisation implies the accordance of particular rights and responsibilities which converge in processes of active participation and collective decision-making. Thus far, however, I have highlighted that representation of all stakeholders – whether in homogenous or diverse schools settings – is not being realised. Instead of warding off apartheid-era inequalities in power struggles, issues of social class, gender and race tend to be exacerbated on SGBs (Karlsson, 2002: 331). If full representation of all parent stakeholders is deficient, then it follows that levels of participation, involvement and inclusion are equally wanting. In turn, the inadequacy of SGBs to provide the spaces for cohesive representation and participation inevitably raises questions about the capacity of this governance structure to promote tolerance, rational discussion and collective decision-making.

A significant number of tensions and conflicts between SGBs and education authorities seemingly suggest that SGBs might not necessarily subscribe to some or all of the core values as espoused in Education White Paper 2 (DoE, 1996b: 16) and SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a). According to Clase et al. (2007: 244), there are numerous cases ‘that indubitably indicate the existence of a field of tension between the governing bodies of public schools in South Africa and the national and provincial Departments of Education’. Despite the clear demarcation of the powers and responsibilities of the SGBs, tension originates from issues concerning the funding of schools, appointment of staff, admission requirements at schools, the language policy of schools, measures applied to discipline at schools, and the policies on religion, religious instruction and practice (Clase et al., 2007). The existence of a field of tension, as Clase et al. (2007: 244) point out, should be of concern to all role-players, since it reveals the sensitive relation between the rights of the SGB, on the one hand, and the need for transformation as prescribed by the state, on the other. The literature is replete with cases where this tension between the SGB and the state erupts to the point of turning to the judiciary for relief, as illustrated in the following two examples:

Other examples include the rejection of a learner by Paul Roos Gymnasium in 2015. The SGB insisted that its admission policy was ‘fair and consistent with the relevant law’ (Petersen, 2015). The learner’s parents, however, accused the school of discrimination and racism, after his mother was told that her child should attend a school in Kayamandi ‘because that’s where he belongs’ (Petersen, 2015). More recently, at Klipspruit West Secondary School in Soweto, a racial row erupted after the community demanded the appointment of a coloured principal. According to the community, there is a lack of representation of coloured people in school leadership positions. One of the SGB members is quoted as stating that: ‘They said coloureds and blacks are the same and I said but this is a coloured area and they said I am being racist. We want a coloured principal because this is a coloured area’ (Makhetha, 2017). The Gauteng Education Department has subsequently dissolved the SGB.

Despite the SA Schools Act’s (DoE, 1996a) directives that schools should be free from any practices of discrimination and exclusion, disputes between SGBs and learners, as well as education authorities, have included matters of race, religion, culture, pregnancy and school fees. In 2010, Sunali Pillay, who was a grade 10 learner at Durban Girls’ High, had her nose pierced and a gold stud inserted as a religious and cultural expression of her physical maturity. The principal and SGB accused her of being in contravention of the school’s code of conduct. After a two-year legal battle with the SGB, the Pillays were successful in their appeal in the Durban High Court (Du Plessis, 2009). Also in 2010, two Free State SGBs and the principals were accused by the provincial education HOD of acting unlawfully when they temporarily expelled pregnant girls from school.

In 2014, Rauhah, a grade 8 learner at Paul Erasmus High School in Senekal in the Free State, was accused by the SGB of violating the school’s dress code when she wore a hijâb to school. Likewise, citing its uniform policy, the principal and SGB at a school in Khayelitsha (Western Cape) prevented a grade 8 Rastafarian learner, Azania Stofile, from attending the school for wearing dreadlocks. In turn, a concerned group of parents from schools around the country has formed a non-profit organisation called ‘Organisasie vir Godsdienste- Onderrig en Demokrasie’ (OGOD), to raise concerns about what they perceive to be the explicit and overwhelmingly Christian ethos and practices at their children’s schools, thereby discounting the religious identities and practices of other learners.

Of course, it is plausible to argue that the above cited tensions and disputes are an inevitable part of any democratisation agenda – that conflict and antagonism are necessary parts of the democratic discourse. However, what cannot be dismissed is that the tension extends beyond that of mere disagreement between the two structures of the SGB and the state. Evident from the literature and the examples of case law is that the tensions between the state and SGBs can often be ascribed to delimitations between inclusion and exclusion. In this sense, matters of language, fees and feeder areas often fulfil a dual purpose, on the one hand, of preserving historical ways of being and thinking and, on the other, of excluding those who are viewed as other to these ways. To this end, the educational partnership that has been envisaged between the state and the SGB might, in fact, not only undermine its democratic impetus, but the very partnership might be used as an undermining and oppositional effect.

Inasmuch, therefore, as the SA Constitution, via the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996a) sets out to promulgate a democratisation agenda – in relation to schools and hence society – SGBs use this democratisation agenda to act counter-productively to the cultivation of schools as diverse and inclusive spaces. Consequently, one encounters a dichotomy between the ideals of democratic policies (Education White Paper 2, DoE, 1996b; SA Schools Act, DoE, 1996a) and the manner in which they are interpreted and implemented (Adams and Waghid, 2005). To Adams and Waghid (2005: 25) problems arise because democracy is not an inflexible system with built-in mechanisms to distinguish between ‘right and wrong’. They explain that democracy ‘embeds constitutive principles such as participation, community engagement, rationality, consensus, equality and freedom’, and if these principles are undermined in any way, it brings the democratic function into dispute (Adams and Waghid, 2005: 25). Moreover, as Allen and Mintrom (2010: 441) argue, although decentralisation allows for greater shared responsibility among actors within an organisation, thereby potentially creating opportunities for greater responsiveness to issues, decentralisation can also diffuse responsibility to the point that individuals collectively do not exhibit sufficient responsibility for the organisation.

Following on from the above, the challenge is how to use the democratic prerogative of school governance as a means of addressing and eradicating all forms of exclusion and discrimination. This could take the form of numerous actions: the appointment of more co-opted SGB members who are not obliged to have children at a particular school and who are motivated by a democratic imperative to transform public schools; arranging more convenient times for SGB elections and meetings, thereby ensuring greater parent participation; and stronger accountability measures via district offices, which might include the presence and participation of district officials at SGB meetings, especially in relation to the allocation and expenditure of funds. To date, the involvement of district officials has been limited to the appointment of school principals. Yet, it is abundantly evident that school-based management and governance cannot be without visible accountability structures and processes. Accountability, however, cannot infer a dilution or curbing of SGB responsibilities – as will be the eventual outcome should the Basic Education Laws Amendment Bill be adopted. According to the National Department of Basic Education, the intention of the Bill is to address corruption, specifically in relation to the appointment of principals and deputies, as well as to relieve SGBs of their responsibility to determine a school’s language policy. At risk here is not only an undermining of the philosophical underpinnings of the SA Schools Act (DoE, 1996) but also a suspension of the democratisation of schools.

Thus far, I have discussed why SGBs were introduced into South African schools, and what roles and responsibilities parents are expected to fulfil on the SGB. Thereafter, I looked at the SGB in relation to the agenda of democratisation and brought into question the willingness of SGBs to enact the practices necessary for a democratisation agenda, through diverse and inclusive school spaces. In the final section, I argue that in light of the significant roles and responsibilities assigned to SGBs, parents in particular can contribute to the transformation of schools, which extends beyond parochial conceptions of parental involvement.

Democratisation as disruption

While there are divergent arguments on the extent to which schools should be held responsible for the democratisation of citizenship and societies, there is consensus, however, that schools have a role to play. Biesta (2011: 1), for instance, asserts that, ‘the responsibility for citizenship learning and, through this, for the quality of democratic life more generally, therefore cannot be confined to families, schools, colleges and universities, but has to be seen as a responsibility of society as a whole’. Similar views are echoed by Gutmann (1987: 16), who holds that schools have a fundamental role to play in perpetuating democratic practice in society. In turn, Pashby (2008: 19) contends that schools are particularly important for ‘reinstating confidence in democracy…[and] to enable young people from differing backgrounds to live together’, as well as Glass (2000: 279), who maintains that schools ‘with all their faults…remain crucial to hope for creating more fair and equitable communities’. In this sense, if schools seek to promote democratic values such as tolerance, respect and regard for the other; a willingness to engage from the perspective of the other; and a recognition that there are other ways of thinking, being and acting, then they have to be prepared to create spaces where these values are practised and experienced. To this end, Mncube (2008: 79) argues that without a more democratic system of education, the development of a democratic society is unlikely to occur.

As the preceding discussions have shown, although the introduction of SGBs has been motivated to democratise schools, democratisation is accompanied by severe tensions and conflicts, which are very closely connected with counter-processes in the opposite direction (Alikhani, 2014). The path such processes take, maintains Alikhani (2014), depends on the power ratio between the different groups affected in the respective society. It follows that those who constitute the majority might remain intent on preserving particular historical constructions and compositions of schools – regardless of how racist and discriminatory these constructions and compositions are. In this regard, inasmuch as school governance is embedded in collective and participatory decision-making, SGBs have largely participated in maintaining that which is already in place, rather than seeing their participation as a disruption of the status quo. While the tendency might be to look at the principal in this regard, it is undeniable that parents on SGBs have played a significant role. The preservation of particular ways of being is made visible not only through the exclusion of specific groups of learners and educators but also through a disdain for other ways of thinking and acting. One finds, therefore, that although schools have purportedly desegregated, they have remained closed to diverse inclusion and difference. One of the major underlying sources identified in the poor management of diversity at schools is the absence or poor representation of that diversity among the teaching composition (Davids and Waghid, 2015: 156). Research shows that school responses to and management of diversity have not only been inadequate (Meier, 2005: 170–177) but also have resulted in a heightening of tension and prejudice (Meier and Hartell, 2009: 180).

Recent incidents at schools across South Africa have exposed a number of SGB-driven regulations against ‘black hair’ and ‘black languages’. One student offers the following description: ‘You are not allowed to have braids, and we can’t speak our mother tongue. It’s understandable during class hours, but during breaks we sit in fear that we must look for a teacher, that a teacher may come while we are speaking our language’ (Isaacs, 2016). While schools justify the prohibition of local African languages on the basis of promoting English and hence academic achievement, the prohibition of afros and corn rows and braids are tied to Anglo-normative constructions of ‘neat hair’ (Davids, 2017: 200).

Following on from this, if parents persist in limiting their participation in the democratisation of schools as a means of merely preserving the past, then, it can be argued, the problem is one of democratisation as participation, rather than democratisation as responsible and responsive disruption. In other words, parental participation is limited to maintaining that which is already in place, as opposed to looking at how things might be otherwise. Mere participation, however, as Benhabib (1992: 78–79) reminds us, is not enough to address the problems associated with estrangement and exclusion.

Although a number of schools in South Africa have changed in terms of racial demographics, the overwhelming majority have remained largely unchanged. Black schools continue to serve Black learners almost exclusively, former coloured schools serve mainly coloured learners, former White schools serve a mix of Black students and a majority of White learners, and Indian schools continue to serve mostly Indian learners, with a mix of coloured and Black learners (Fiske and Ladd, 2006: 101–102). Even where schools have shifted in terms of racial demographics and its associated diversities, the historical dominant ethos of those schools has, in most instances, remained intact. The responsibilities of SGBs, therefore, cannot be one of mere participation. Responsibility, contend Allen and Mintrom (2010: 439), ‘is manifest when representative actors face choices, understand the broader consequences of those choices, and choose options that are likely to produce good and fair outcomes’. They maintain that if schools are to develop cohorts of young people who support social cohesion and democratic practice, then schools have to be governed and managed in ways which protect and advance the public interest.

Parents who serve on SGBs not only represent school communities. The constitution of an SGB is in itself the composition of another community – composed of individuals who have the potential to enact ‘whatever singularity’ (Agamben, 1993: 1). The ‘whatever’, according to Agamben (1993: 1), ‘relates to singularity not in its indifference with respect to a common property…but only in its being such as it is’. As such, the SGB, as a community, co-belongs temporarily – that is, SGBs come together in ‘whatever singularity’, with the purpose of deliberating and debating, and with the intention of creating a school, where all learners experience the same inclusion and belonging. An SGB which is democratised is one which, in the first place, is attuned to cultivating school spaces which are most conducive to demonstrating and instilling democratic ways of thinking and being. This means creating a school environment which is open and inclusive not only in relation to external enrolment practices but in ensuring a school environment and climate in which all learners experience a sense of belonging and regard. A democratised SGB recognises the foundational responsibility of schools in relation to its society and, as such, is intent on nurturing forms of citizenship which are reconcilable with diverse communities and individuals. In addition, a democratised SGB and school understand that preservation resides in the positive contributions made towards mutual regard and peaceful co-existence. Earlier in this article, I commented on the immense authority vested in SGBs. As such, they have the power to decide on the ethos of a school; they have the sway to align parents and other stakeholders with a vision that looks outwards towards how things might be, rather than how they are.

I conclude by drawing on the ideas of Rancière (1991), whose views on democratic education offer a good premise from which to enunciate a renewed understanding and practice of SGB in relation to the democratisation of schools. To Rancière (1991), when individuals engage in democracy, they do so with emancipation in mind – that is, they disrupt the way a particular social order is configured, or what he refers to as ‘disrupting the chains of reason’ (Rancière, 2007). Disruption takes many forms in South African schools – from the prevalence of violence, which stems from either within the school or from surrounding communities, to teacher absenteeism and poor classroom management. Quite differently, Rancière’s (2007) conception of disruption refers to the contestation of taken-for-granted norms and ways of thinking and, specifically, those norms which serve to marginalise and exclude. This is why he associates the practice of disruption with emancipation. When individuals act with emancipation in mind, says Rancière (1991: 81), they think, speak and live in relation to disrupting the order of things. To Rancière (1991), all individuals – regardless of race, class, religion, whether previously marginalised or not – are of ‘equal intelligence’ and, therefore, are all able to speak and act. ‘Equal intelligence’ is different from equality in terms of capacities or abilities. As is evident from the types of challenges encountered by SGBs at historically disadvantaged schools, the inequality of skills and capacities presents a significant impediment. ‘Equal intelligence’ implies the capacity to speak and to hold particular views. Often, what stultifies people, says Rancière (1991: 39), is a belief in the inferiority of their intelligence or their incapacity to recognise their own abilities and capacities.

Parents on the SGB might also be stultified by other dominant voices in the room, who not only dominate the community of the SGB but also dominate the determining ethos of the school. In this regard, parents have the ‘equal intelligence’ to question and disrupt taken-for-granted practices, which might lead to the exclusion, marginalisation or othering of particular groups of learners or communities. Only if parents are prepared to counter and disrupt embedded assumptions and particular ways of thinking and acting can democratisation take effect. For as long as certain voices within the community of the SGB are excluded, or for as long as communities of learners are not afforded accountability through practices of inclusion and recognition, the democratisation agenda will remain at risk.

What democratisation through disruption implies is: a destabilising of any form of undesirable othering; a re-stabilising of the majority-minority imbalance through the inclusion of the previously excluded; recognising rather than resisting difference; and widening perspectives and engagements rather than withdrawing into silos of insulation. The concern here, therefore, is not about increased participation of parents, since numbers will not necessarily disrupt existing practices, and as Rancière (2007: 53) notes, increased participation might mean an increase in the majority and hence a deeper exclusion of the minority. What is required is an increased participation of parents across a spectrum, as representative of South African society, which is not limited to the demographics of a school. What democratisation through disruption at a school implies is bringing to the centre those who have been on the periphery or who are at risk of being marginalised. In turn, historically minority and marginalised groups have to reclaim their positions in society and be prepared to disrupt the spaces from which they have thus far been restricted. Of course, this is not easy.

When parents enrol their children into a particular school, they seldom do so with the intention or inclination to want to change that school – especially if trying to do so might impact on their child. But when confronted with policies and practices which are overtly or covertly discriminatory, parents have a responsibility and ‘equal intelligence’ to speak and act against such practices. As a majority group on SGBs, more specifically, parents have the capacity to appoint teachers from diverse identities and backgrounds; they have the capacity to change the admission policy of the school so that it draws from a wider demography; they can ensure that the extramural programme extends beyond traditional sporting codes and cultural activities; and they can certainly set school fees which are in reach rather than exorbitant. In turn, principals, SMTs as well as teachers have to be as aware and committed to the importance of cultivating schools as democratised spaces – that is, where equality, fairness, care, respect and compassion are cornerstones of the functioning of the school. Parents want their children to thrive; most parents also understand that thriving happens when children are happy, when they are seen and accepted for who they are.

The appeal of a democratised SGB and a democratic school is that it offers the potential for more effective education. When children engage with diverse groups of learners, they are socialised into difference and learn how to engage and respect those differences. Similarly, when they learn from a diverse group of teachers, they are invited into perspectives and worldviews they otherwise might not have encountered. Schools have a responsibility to demonstrate what it means to live in a democracy; they have a responsibility to make the principles of democracy come alive in their ethos and daily functioning. As such, schools have to place a greater emphasis on what it means to be and act in a democracy. Once children, parents and teachers understand the necessity and importance of mutual recognition and regard, not only is there less room and tolerance for prejudice and exclusion, but there is a greater chance that these biases will be called out and opposed. Concomitantly, when learners know that they belong and are respected, they are more willing to engage and learn, and where learners are more open to learning, teaching becomes easier and richer, thereby ensuring an effective education.

In this article I have paid careful attention to the sets of responsibilities afforded to SGBs, with a particular emphasis on the privileged positioning of parents as the majority group and, hence, having the potential for greater sway. I have highlighted the myriad and complex tensions not only between SGBs and education authorities but also between SGBs and the democratisation agenda they are meant to promote. In response, I have argued that if SGBs are to realise their mandate of democratic governance in relation to schools, and hence society, then the understandings and practices of democratisation have to extend beyond mere participation. Instead, what is required is a democratisation of disruption that, on the one hand, will redress historical injustices, and on the other, rebalance the centre so that previously excluded identities and ways of being are included and recognised.