I am Because we are
Fostering ‘Ubuntu’ in our children’s lives
‘I think, therefore I am,’ mused Descartes at the birth of the Enlightenment, heralding an age that would inform our modern systems of organisation such as government, medicine and education as well as many individual and collective world-views. Perspectives that the West would spread across the world through colonisation and the introduction of British formal schooling (Black, 2010).
It is a model of education that prioritises hierarchy and competition over collaboration and egalitarianism (Robinson, 2010). One that can work so well, that at primary school I had fully internalised the ‘one for all’ mentality by refusing to help my classmates with spelling, lest it would take away from my own prowess. I was four years old.
“my humanity is inextricably bound up in what is yours”
Countering this reductive and separatist philosophy is the concept of ‘Ubuntu’. The word comes from the Nguni communities of Southern Africa and Archbishop Desmond Tutu defines it like this: ‘my humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up in what is yours,’ (2001). Another South African, academic Barbara Nussbaum suggests that ‘[ubuntu] sees community rather than self-determination as the essential aspect of personhood’ (2010).
If you can, pause for a moment, close your eyes. Envision a room filled with the various people that have contributed to who you are today. Your parents or guardian might feature, a handful of precious friends, a grandparent or beloved auntie, possibly the odd teacher or work colleague, an ex or current partner. Reflect on those who remain in your life, or in your mind and heart (if they have passed), those with whom you choose to still connect whenever life allows and the individuals who contribute to the fundamentals of who you are and are still becoming.
This is how I understand Ubuntu personally, a conscious choice to connect and build community, to maintain it and watch it grow as you would a garden or any other project that you have to cultivate and care for. And the way that those individuals foster your growth in return, working as a powerful feedback loop.
My desire to build and create community was dampened, rather than activated in school. In that environment I felt like an outcast and misfit. Apparently, cosying up to your teachers, being a fan of 19th century novels and being able to spell rhythm does not make you the popular kid. Who knew? When I came out of school to home educate at the age of eleven, my parents quickly realised that I had been on a fast track to social anxiety with rapidly shrinking sense of self confidence and esteem.
During those early home education days, I went through what is officially known as a ‘de-schooling period’, essentially a detox from the relentless social aspect of school (. I barely wanted to see my closest friends, let alone start making new ones. Is this so strange? Many adults I know go through a ‘de-working period’ for a few hours every day, over several glasses of wine. Once my parents researched the de-schooling period and could reassure me that I was not simply becoming an antisocial hermit, they suggested that my sister and I now take charge of our social lives.
Mum and dad were brilliant, because they walked this tricky line between fully engaging with our various childish and teenage social challenges, while encouraging us to take responsibility for whatever situations arose. Ultimately, it was up to us to figure out who we wanted in our lives and how we chose to conduct those relationships.
Sometimes we needed to learn how to have healthy boundaries with friends who were pushy or difficult, but more often than not, we needed to take ownership of our own behaviour and see how we were able to change things ourselves.
During my mid-teens I went through a dip of feeling socially isolated and realised that I wanted more friends, especially fellow teenagers. My parents reminded me that I was fully capable of creating my own ideal social life.
After pondering this for a while, I joined forces with my best friend and we decided to merge her school friends with my home educating buddies. Six months later, we all went on holiday together to the Netherlands. At around the same time, I joined an online fan club for my favourite band and began communicating with people of all ages, nationalities and backgrounds. Later I would meet them in person, stay at their houses and get introduced to their families. Many of the people from both of groups are important in my life fifteen years later.
With severe social anxiety and other related mental health issues on the rise amongst children and teenagers (Bernstein, 2016), it seems important to interrogate our cultural and societal attitudes towards socialisation. By opening up the communication channels about what we all want socially speaking could be life changing.
Children and young people might surprise us with whom they feel keen to socialise and remaining open minded in this context is key to our belief in them. One of my favourite contemporary visionaries is the rockstar and writer Amanda Palmer, who often discusses her friendship with a man called Anthony. She met Anthony, her next door neighbour as a ten year old child, he was 25 years her senior and they formed a lifelong friendship, until his death a few years ago (2015). I had a similar experience as a child. We know as adults that we find kindreds in the unlikeliest of places and this can be just as true for children and teenagers.
Our children’s social lives, like our own, will not always be perfect and this article is not aiming to suggest that it will be, only that developing our trust in their social autonomy could open more doors than we can imagine. We all have to learn the differences between toxic, damaging relationships and the ones that love and nurture us. Is it possible to affect deep and lasting change if we begin this relationship education much earlier and with much higher awareness?
Children often learn primarily from the example that is offered to them. My parents, always so good to each other and everyone they knew, showed me over time that I did not want to bully my younger sister. A girl that had bullied me at school sought my friendship and forgiveness and my response was to then seek out the girls I had bullied and request the same of them. I was young enough to see the amazing mirror that my former bully was brave and humble enough to hold up, something that we can struggle more with as adults.
Falling in with bad crowds is usually a desperate search for belonging and group identity, that children have not usually found elsewhere.
Children and teenagers are often a lot wiser than we give them credit for, they often seek out the exact people they need as friends, mentors or teachers. They will, given the right support, heal when hurt by the inevitable loss of friends moving away or disregarding them, because they are resilient and adaptable, just as we are. Falling in with bad crowds is usually a desperate search for belonging and group identity, that they have not usually found elsewhere.
If our communities and support networks are strong and true, our children’s are much more likely to be. If we keep the channels open and try not to judge their social choice until we have gathered more information and even then, judgement can often backfire. We can give them space and trust to use their own discernment and they will then trust us enough to discuss any social challenges or issues that might arise.
In the modern world, where social media seeks to control and contrive so many of our personal connections and interactions (Cooper, 2017), empowering our children with the choice and agency to dictate their social lives can be a small act of revolution. Where formal schooling can distort and prevent natural friendships, providing a space for social agency and relationship skill development is paramount for whatever they might face during their lifetime.
Relearning or building our own skills in establishing and maintaining communities of friendship and solidarity are clearly vital in today’s world. Consider the epidemic rates of loneliness amongst the elderly and the growing research pointing to the benefits experienced by intergenerational programmes (Jones et al 2004, Macht 2013).
Think for a moment how consciously understanding the concept of choice vis-a-vis our relationships has led to internal and external transformation in our own lives. That we have the potential to go from isolated misfit to someone who can relax into the support of an emotionally expansive and physically expanding community is one of life’s more tangible miracles. By bringing the notion of ‘Ubuntu’ into our busy, fractured, loving, joyous selves and lives, we can be reminded of our humanity and our ‘place in the family of things’ (Oliver, 1986).
Anna Durdant-Hollamby writes for Eequ.org, an education platform that connects skilled and passionate people in the community to curious children who are self-directed in their learning.
References:
Bernstein, J. (2016). The Rising Epidemic of Anxiety in Children and Teens. In Psychology Today. [Available From], https://bit.ly/2DiPBZZ [Accessed on 7th February 2019]
Cooper, A. (2017). What is “brain hacking”? Tech insiders on why you should care. CBS. [Available at] https://cbsn.ws/2ysXRpp [Accessed on 7th February 2019].
Jones, E, D. Herrick, C. & York, R, F. (2004) An Intergenerational Group Benefits Both Emotionally Disturbed Youth and Older Adults. Issues in Mental Health Nursing, 25:8, 753–767, DOI: 10.1080/01612840490506329
Macht, W. (2013) Intergenerational Ingenuity: Mixing Age Groups in Affordable Housing. In: Urban Land Magazine. [Available from] https://bit.ly/2TE5D7x . [Accessed on 7th February 2019].
Nussbaum, B. (2010. Sprinking Ubuntu on Capitalism. TEDX Stellenbosch. [Available at] https://bit.ly/2t98h9T [accessed on 6th February 2019]
Oliver, M. (1986). Wild Geese. In. Dream Work. The Atlantic Monthly Press.
Palmer, A. (2015). The Art of Asking or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and let People Help. New York. Grand Central Publishing.
Robinson, K. (2010). Changing Education Paradigms. RSA [Available] at https://bit.ly/1ePRqdt. [Accessed on 6th February 2019]
Takahashi, T. (2008). Deschooling Gently. Hunt Press.
Tutu, D. (2000). No Future Without Forgiveness. New York: DoubleDay books.