• Abstract and Figures
• Public Full-text

Beyond Schooling: Primary School Girls Experiences of Gender and Sexual violence. BY: Dhanasagrie Jewnarain 203520677 Supervisor: Professor Deevia Bhana Specialization: Gender and Education Submitted to the School of Education, College of Humanities, University of KwaZulu-Natal in fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy November 2019 Supervisor's Declaration ‘As the candidate’s supervisor I agree / do not agree to the submission of this thesis’. Signed: Name: Professor Deevia Bhana Date: 15 November 2019 i Declaration: I, Dhanasagrie Jewnarain, declare that: (i) The research reported in this thesis, except where otherwise indicated, is my original work. (ii) This thesis has not been submitted for any degree or examination at any other university. (iii) This thesis does not contain other person’s data, pictures, graphs or other information, unless specifically acknowledged as being sourced from other persons. (iv) This thesis does not contain other person’s writing, unless specifically acknowledged as being sourced from other researchers. Where other written sources have been quoted; then: a) Their words have been re-written but the general information attributed to them has been referenced; b) Where their exact words have been used, their writing has been placed inside quotation marks and referenced. (v) Where I have reproduced a publication of which I am an author or co-author, I have fully referenced such publications. (vi) This thesis does not contain text, graphics or tables copied and pasted from the internet, unless specifically acknowledged, and unless the source is detailed in the thesis and in the references section. Signed: Date: 15 November 2019 ii Dedication To the girls in this study iii NRF Acknowledgement This study was supported by the South African Research Chairs Initiative of the Department of Science and Technology and the National Research Foundation of South Africa [Grant number 98407]. iv Acknowledgements My mentor, my supervisor and my inspiration, Professor Deevia Bhana. Thank you for teaching me what ‘excellence’ means. Your unwavering focus in your goal, which I strongly believe, is to ensure that your students’ succeed in their pursuit of academic success is one of the most admirable qualities that you possess. Your belief in me and your unwavering support throughout my long journey has made this achievement real. My journey has been long, but it was worthwhile, because I have become a critical thinker, which I believe is one of the goals of a PhD study. Your commitment to research as a means to addressing the gender inequalities that seek to erode our South African society, and stymy our quest for gender and sexual equality is truly a gift that you have been blessed with and one so generously shared with me [and the rest of your students]. I am eternally grateful. Thank you for completing this journey with me. To the girls in this study, I do hope that one day, you read this study and understand our precious contribution to addressing gender and sexual inequalities in primary schools. I pray that your life ahead is successful and blessed. Thank you for consenting to be a part of this study. My mother, Mrs Chilka Reddy, You have always been so proud of me and I do hope that I continue to make you proud. Your perseverance in ensuring that we, your children, are educated and successful is something that I am forever grateful and has been the stepping stone to my success in life. Your investment in your children continues to draw dividends, and this study is evidence. Thank you. v My daughter Nadika Jewnarain, we are mother and daughter but more than that, we are friends. I love you so much! Thank you for being part of my journey. I admire so much the woman that you have become and I pray that your courage, honesty and perseverance never dissipates. I am so proud of you. You are a beautiful daughter and an integral part of me. My son, Ruen Jewnarain, in this journey of mine, you have grown up, changed from boy to man! Your strength is my strength and I thank you for educating me throughout my journey. I am very proud of you too and I love you so much. My husband, Naveen Jewnarain, words cannot express my deep gratitude to you for tolerating me throughout this journey. Thank you for the consideration that you gave to me and for the concern you showed when I became overwhelmed with my work. My thanks and appreciation to my brothers, sister, sister-in laws, niece and nephews. Thank for understanding that time away from you was immersed in my purpose to complete my study. My best friend, Monie Naidoo. You believed in me. Thank you. You always understood me and so often, we would think and do as one. It is the bond that we share! My PhD cohort! What a wonderful group to have been a part of. I have made friends for life. I wish you all every success as you move towards your completing your study too. The Principal of Westhills, you have shared a big part of this journey with me. Thank you for understanding and supporting my study. I am eternally grateful. vi To the rest of the teachers who celebrated my pursuit for a PhD, thank you for all your help. Finally, to my Editor, Sarah Anne Bologna. You have been such an inspiration as I crawled to the finishing line. Your brilliant editing combined with Malachy’s support and your warm messages always made me happy. I am so thankful to have worked with you. vii Preface My reflections on writing this thesis This ethnography is not about me, but I am an inescapable part of it; the ‘me’ in it troubles and disturbs the neat process through which qualitative research is constructed. I am an Indian Tamil woman, born in South Africa. Tamils orginated in the southern parts of Indian and Sri Lanka and speak the language which is also called Tamil (more than 2 000 years old). My religion is Hinduism. Hinduism proscribes my beliefs and actions as a woman. As an Indian Hindu woman, I am expected to adhere to specific cultural beliefs and gender norms that should dictate my existence. These include beliefs that I am supposed to imbibe so that they infuse my whole being, operating like a network, that should flood my body and mind so that I undertand my position in Indian society and within an Indian family. Being an Indian woman meant that I adhere to the socialisation process that was already carved for me. These included my mannerisms, my attire, my devotion to my husband, children and elders, my role as nurturer and caregiver, and my commitment to Hinduism. In my greetings, I am supposed to put my palms together and say ‘Namaste’ or ‘Vanakkam’, which is also a sign of respect. Apartheid also infused my life, classifying me as person of colour who was also subjected to restrictions. My freedom was curtailed. However, where there is oppression, there is resistance and my resistance to cultural and gender norms marks my power. Throughout the study, I found that the concept of being an ‘insider’ take on more meaning than I had initially imagined. To me, the predication of what an insider is, was more than being a teacher at the research site for ten years. In fact, and to be true to myself, the concept of ‘insider’ and the intimacy with the subject it entails became real as the study progressed, and with my growing familiarity with the participants. It forced me empathise, to relive my youth, and my school days, unearthing memories and emotions that I had buried years ago. To date, I would offer people only a glimpse into my past, preferring to keep my history to myself. However, this study demanded more than just writing up my ethnography. It required honesty from myself first, in order to be more perceptive of the nuances in character and emotions I had shared with the girls in this study. This required that I unravelled my own psyche, and trace my roots to my working class upbringing and understanding my experiences of school violence, along with gender and sexual harassment I dealt with when I was a learner. viii I grew up in an extended family; my parents lived with my grandmother who rented a council home for R35 a month in Springfield, an all Indian working classdistrict constructed under apartheid. As I write now, I am able to reflect on how the poorer residential areas were named districts and the wealthy residential areas called suburbs. Along with my three siblings and parents I shared this home with my grandmother. We were a family of six, and an extended family of seven. We were not rich, but we were not poor either. My father worked as a waiter and my mother supplemented this income by working as a service hand in a clothing factory. My mother was thirty eight years old when my father died. I was fifteen. I was sad that he had died, but I was not devastated. My biggest fear revolved around what would happen to us as a family. I had realised long ago that my grandmother knew of my father’s extra-marital affair, witnessed my mother’s suffering and despair and now with my father dead, wished us to leave as she held no extended loyalty or feeling toward us without the shadow of a man, her son, to shade us. I recognise now the power of patriarchy. My mother lacked a voice and a position in her union with a man she named her husband; a connection that was tenuous after his death, all dependent on those surrounding us.

Load more

  295

Copy Link