A Lesson in Poverty

2008/09/12

LAST week a group of students taught me about poverty and compassion. But hang on a second – I was supposed to be teaching them a course for their Diploma in Early Childhood Development (ECD). The curriculum, amongst other things, specifies that they should know about the grim effects of child poverty, so I had come prepared with a bunch of book-learned theories to teach them.

Early childhood development practitioners can be amongst the most important influences in a young child’s life. They should know about barriers to child development, including how poverty affects children and families. They must understand the wide and deep reach of poverty – that it is not just a lack of money, but comes with a whole bundle of disadvantages that interact to keep people poor for generations. They need to know that poverty deprives children of the chance to thrive and grow, that it prevents them getting good food, good health, safety, education, support, and adequate care and stimulation. Without these things children are more likely to grow up stunted physically, emotionally and cognitively. They are far less likely to break through the wall of poverty that keeps people back. They will probably grow up as poor as, if not poorer than, their parents.

And so the poverty cycle rolls on, generation after generation.

This understanding is particularly pertinent for Eastern Cape ECD practitioners, since the children of this province suffer deeply. The statistics show that eight out of ten Eastern Cape children live in income poverty, and by far the majority of municipalities in which children suffer most from multiple deprivations are in this province.

Clearly, then, limiting the appalling effects of poverty is sure to be a major part of the ECD practitioners’ everyday work. They need to identify poverty and try to mitigate its effects.

These women – very few men enter the nurturing world of professional ECD – have a pivotal role to play in the future of the children in their care. They should be able to offer a safe, stimulating environment where children can explore, play, and learn freely. Perhaps even more importantly, they should be able to provide the warmth, respect and encouragement that children so desperately need to build resiliency, that wonderful quality that helps us bounce back when life deals us a backhander. They could make all the difference to the children in their care.

But back to the class. One of the many burdens of poverty is the stigma that often goes with it. In my naivety, I was half-expecting to uncover the poisonous, and all too common, belief that the poor are somehow to blame for their condition, that handouts will only make them lazier, and that the cure for their poverty is to get off their backsides.

After all, as a middle-class woman, I have many acquaintances – including, memorably, at least one devoutly religious person – whose convictions that poor people are lazy, dirty, and deserve their fate rise to the surface like scum as fast as you can say “social grant”.

Talking of social grants, I was also ready for the old stories of how the child grant promotes reckless breeding, and that adults spend the R210 per month on alcohol and luxuries rather than the children – this when about 65 percent of grant recipients’ budgets are spent only on food.

But these ECD practitioners showed me that they know far more about poverty and compassion than I ever will. Our discussions showed they have a bone-deep understanding of the way poverty grinds at self-respect, energy levels, and hope. They gave examples of how much harder poor people have to work to gain the smallest benefit. They understand poverty because, like many in South Africa, they live intimately with it. To condemn the poor for their poverty means to condemn your mother, your neighbour, your sister and your friend.

So I came away from the class feeling uplifted, confident that these practitioners can contribute enormously to children’s wellbeing, and deeply humbled by the depth of their understanding and compassion.