Scielo RSS <![CDATA[Yesterday and Today]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/rss.php?pid=2223-038620190001&lang=es vol. num. 21 lang. es <![CDATA[SciELO Logo]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/img/en/fbpelogp.gif http://www.scielo.org.za <![CDATA[<b>Editorial</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100001&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es <![CDATA[<b>Poetry as method in the history classroom: Decolonising possibilities</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100002&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Poetry can present historical material in a non-academic format. This format may be particularly important for students who are excluded from epistemic access (Morrow, 2007). This exclusion stems from many things, but ways of writing, ways of framing history, and whose voices and stories are heard are part of this exclusion. This article explores using poetry as a method of decolonising history teaching, primarily in teacher training classroom contexts. Poetry provides a unique combination of orality, personal perspective, artistic license, and historical storytelling. The form can also draw students into a lesson. As a device somewhat removed from students' ideas about what history is, poetry is an alternative way of investigating ideas of "truth", evidence, narrative, and perspective. It provides an entry point to historical topics, that can be supplemented through other texts and forms of evidence. Poetry also provides a voicing for sensitive topics, acknowledges and embraces complexity and pain. It could also remove the teacher as mediator, even if only for a moment. Additionally, it can open space for marginalised voices and stories. By drawing from local poems, especially by black womxn poets, race and gender are centred in the conversation in a visceral way. International poets open conversations about globally linked histories. Poets from different generations raise questions of continuity and change. All poems are open to examination through historical thinking skills. This article explores the tensions in decolonising the Curriculum Assessment Policy Statement (CAPS) history Further Education and Training (FET)(Senior High School) curriculum and in using a creative medium such as poetry to do so. <![CDATA[<b>Learners' imagination of democratic citizenship in post-apartheid South Africa: Exploring critical literary pedagogy in History teaching</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100003&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Post-apartheid South Africa struggles to develop a sense of social cohesion and nationhood, which remain largely unfulfilled constitutional imperatives. The pre-amble of the post-apartheid constitution (1996) recognises amongst other things, the "injustices of our past, ... that South Africa belongs to all who live in it, and (to) lay the foundations for a democratic and open society". The Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statement (CAPS) creates space in the history curriculum to address democratic citizenship and social cohesion. Due to a racially fragmented history, South African nationhood is still a future-oriented project for the attention of the state, and in the context of this study, the education sector. This article reports on an exploratory history lesson, teaching democratic citizenship for social development and nation-building. The lesson was presented to grade 10 learners at a township high school in North Pretoria. A "critical literary pedagogy" (CLP) approach was employed as a pathway to teaching social cohesion and nationhood, through historical reflection and imagination. A CLP approach has a commitment to change and employs literary texts as learning material. The article responds to the research question: What is the potential role of CLP as an approach to the teaching of democratic citizenship in a post-apartheid classroom? As conceptual framework "cosmubuntuism", a combination of cosmopolitan and Ubuntu values provides a theoretical lens to understand learners' imaginations of democratic citizenship. Five dominant themes emerged from the data, confirming the potential of CLP, but alerting to contradictory and critical outcomes of the lesson. Recommendations are suggested, inter alia, for teacher education institutions to use the CLP approach to address the didactical needs of history teachers to cultivate social cohesion and nationhood in the post-apartheid South African history classroom. <![CDATA[<b>Emotions in Holocaust education - the narrative of a history teacher</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100004&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Emotion is an integral part of Holocaust education and inculcating empathy in learners is a well-used pedagogical tool to encourage learners to connect with the victims. This is necessary because of the vast number of victims who died at the hands of the Nazis and their collaborators -six million Jews and five million non-Jews. These numbers are generally difficult to comprehend and there can be a tendency to crush thoughts of all the victims together into a single unit, say, the six million, rather than embrace the thought of six million individuals. To help learners relate better to the Jewish victims and survivors, the personal stories of individuals are often told to personalise the Holocaust. This is a tool used in both schools and museums by history teachers and museum educators. Teaching the Holocaust is not a dispassionate, disconnected experience for history teachers. They are often personally affected whether to a greater or lesser degree, and both their teaching and understanding of the Holocaust are often linked to their personal stories. This article is based on the story of one history teacher, whose personal story shaped her Holocaust pedagogy and philosophy when she taught about the Holocaust. The Holocaust is included in the national history curriculum for Grade 9 and 11 learners in the South African school curriculum. Within a qualitative, narrative inquiry framework, the article discusses the personal story of Florence, a Coloured South African history teacher. Along with her family, she did not personally experience apartheid trauma, as many other current South African history teachers did, nor did her family have any personal connections to World War II Europe. Florence simply drew on her personal experiences as a young girl growing up in a lower middle-class family to formulate her own pedagogy with which to teach the Holocaust and engender empathy in her learners. She did this by including techniques such as visualisations to create a certain mood in the classroom before embarking on teaching what, to her, was a horrific, evil event, and to ensure that the learners did not take what they were going to hear lightly. Her methodology was devised to inculcate empathy and enhance depth of understanding. <![CDATA[<b>Gender in national history narratives in social studies textbooks for Ghana</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100005&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es The Ghanaian society is highly patriarchal and one of the immediate outcomes is that assignment of roles and responsibilities are typically based on gender lines. This paper is about gender representation in social studies textbooks in Ghana for Junior High School (JHS) students. In this article we argue that this inherent division of responsibilities based on gender navigates into history textbook narratives and influences the roles that are assigned to male and female characters. We further argue that male characters are assigned more superior roles than female characters in Ghanaian history textbooks, albeit subtly. The article uses the Ghanaian social studies textbook for JHS which documents historical accounts of Ghanaian men and women in precolonial, colonial and postcolonial periods. Both content and thematic analyses were used to present evidence for the findings. The contents of the selected textbooks sections were organised into two types of narratives to establish how gender is represented and whether one gender is systematically undermined in the texts. This helped to summarise the content into themes. Firstly, we assessed the representation of male and female characters in the texts to ascertain the extent to which females and males are represented in the narratives. Secondly, we assessed the language used in the textbooks to show if the language and specific key words used favoured particular gender groups. In this article we conclude that linking men to more prestigious occupations and heroic undertakings of the past and silencing of women in such positions, is subtle but predominant in the treatment of history in Ghanaian JHS social studies textbooks. Consequently, we recommend the development of a gender-sensitive policy to mainstream gender neutrality in curriculum development and textbooks contents. <![CDATA[<b>Navigating the tension between official and unofficial History – a teacher's view</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100006&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Growing up in the post-apartheid era in a township on the outskirts of Durban, and schooling in Durban North, I always wondered why the houses in KwaMashu township were small, clustered and all looked similar compared to the houses where I schooled. Although I grew up questioning this, I would never discuss such topics with my parents. So, when the topic of apartheid was taught in school "it all made sense" until I did an oral history project on my grandmother, Sibukeli Angelina Mbokazi, who was a domestic worker during the apartheid regime. My grandmother felt differently from what I thought she would, which severely challenged me. This was especially the case because my grandmother and my mother were victims of the apartheid era land dispossession laws. This article articulates the internal challenges I have faced in the history classroom when the unofficial history of my family, as articulated by my grandmother, conflicted with the official curricula and textbooks. <![CDATA[<b>Book reviews</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100007&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Growing up in the post-apartheid era in a township on the outskirts of Durban, and schooling in Durban North, I always wondered why the houses in KwaMashu township were small, clustered and all looked similar compared to the houses where I schooled. Although I grew up questioning this, I would never discuss such topics with my parents. So, when the topic of apartheid was taught in school "it all made sense" until I did an oral history project on my grandmother, Sibukeli Angelina Mbokazi, who was a domestic worker during the apartheid regime. My grandmother felt differently from what I thought she would, which severely challenged me. This was especially the case because my grandmother and my mother were victims of the apartheid era land dispossession laws. This article articulates the internal challenges I have faced in the history classroom when the unofficial history of my family, as articulated by my grandmother, conflicted with the official curricula and textbooks. <![CDATA[<b>SASHT News and YT guidelines</b>]]> http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S2223-03862019000100008&lng=es&nrm=iso&tlng=es Growing up in the post-apartheid era in a township on the outskirts of Durban, and schooling in Durban North, I always wondered why the houses in KwaMashu township were small, clustered and all looked similar compared to the houses where I schooled. Although I grew up questioning this, I would never discuss such topics with my parents. So, when the topic of apartheid was taught in school "it all made sense" until I did an oral history project on my grandmother, Sibukeli Angelina Mbokazi, who was a domestic worker during the apartheid regime. My grandmother felt differently from what I thought she would, which severely challenged me. This was especially the case because my grandmother and my mother were victims of the apartheid era land dispossession laws. This article articulates the internal challenges I have faced in the history classroom when the unofficial history of my family, as articulated by my grandmother, conflicted with the official curricula and textbooks.