Schools mustn’t wait for mandate to tackle racism

The voices of children who report racism at school are going unheard, writes Ara Alam-Simmons.

 

I often wonder if we care enough about our young people in the education system. When, if ever, will learning  be safe and free from racism? I’m talking about our children and young people from our Indigenous and migrant communities of colour who have to put up with racism at school on a regular basis.

The racism is real — and so, it seems, is the lack of interest in their experiences. Despite the evidence showing the harms caused by racism, those in power have made little effort to make the changes that would make a difference in our children’s lives.

Racism stands in the way of our tamariki living healthy lives — lives where they feel like they belong and can contribute meaningfully to the world around them as they grow up. The psychological distress that racism causes is well-documented, and the impacts of racism both on the body and mind can kill.

This is what our inaction means for our young people.

It’s not as if we don’t know what’s happening inside our schools, or how it’s affecting our children. In a recent report from Mana Mokupuna (the Children and Young People’s Commission), for example, young people provide a very clear picture of their experiences of racism and discrimination. The title, Ki te kore te kaikiri ki roto o Aotearoa, kātahi te wāhi pai rawa atu, is a translation of the words of a Māori student in the Waikato (aged 11–13), who told Mana Mokopuna: “Without racism, Aotearoa would be better.”

It’s a sobering read. The report is full of young voices who we should be listening to. They identify school and the education system as the main place where they experience racism. It’s a damning piece of evidence — but not damning enough, it would seem.

The coalition government has stated its position quite clearly, on a whole range of issues, including that race doesn’t matter, and that what Māori want for themselves doesn’t matter. Given the changing demographics of our society, these positions equate to a statement that our young people — or a growing proportion of them — don’t matter.

We don’t care enough to collect the data.

A racial incident can be defined as any situation perceived to be racist by the alleged victim or any other person, including unintentional racism. But the Ministry of Education doesn’t know how many such incidents are taking place in our schools, because it doesn’t keep track of them.

The ministry has admitted that it doesn’t collect data on whether bullying or similar incidents at schools are racially driven, and nor does it require schools to report such information to the ministry.

Because we do not currently collect such data, it would be very difficult for our current government to say that our young people who are impacted by racism are even meeting the basics of being safeguarded at school.

I wonder if they’ve read the latest report from Mana Mokopuna. I’ve read it several times. How can it be, in 2024, that young people attending a place of learning continue to have experiences like these?

Teachers have singled me out, like when we are talking about Māori history, they would look at me and say, ‘Your culture should not be complaining about losing your land.’ (Mokopuna, secondary school age, Ōtautahi/Christchurch)

The teachers don’t really care to be honest. They say it [racism] is part of growing up. (Mokopuna, aged 9-12, Rural Te Matau a Māui)

One day, I was in my science class. Me and my two other friends, we were just playing around, my teacher got mad then she called another teacher and all of the sudden she only pointed on me, not my friends, because they weren’t black and that really broke my heart, and I started crying. (Mokopuna, aged 11-13, rural Waikato)

They bullied me for wearing a hijab so I stopped wearing it to school. (Resettled Mokopuna, Te Whanganui ā Tara)

There was this one time when my teacher was trying to get me to drop out and he was rude about it for years. Me and him never had a good relo. I always thought it was because I was the only Māori in his class. (Rainbow Mokopuna, aged 14-18, Te Whanganui ā Tara/Wellington)

Yr9 in math, only black girl. Teacher told to join group. Girls talked about me. Made me feel uncomfortable and not welcome. Go back to my country where I belong. (Mokopuna, aged 14-18, Waikato)

Being told I don’t deserve things and can’t achieve my goals because I’m Māori. (Mokopuna, secondary school age, Ōtautahi)

Being kicked out of school because other people are scared, but no one wants to know your story or help you after that and then you get judged forever. (Mokopuna, aged 14-16, Remand Home)

Teacher didn’t allow cultural words – uncomfortable in space. Stopped from using words. (Resettled Mokopuna, aged 14-18, Waikato)

I have maths + our maths teacher is known for being super racist. I will have my hand up for the entire class + she ignores me. Other students will disrespect her + she listens to them. We are trying to be respectful + she treats us badly. She slams her hands down on the desk + says ‘Why are you talking’. (Mokopuna, aged 12-14, Ōtepoti)

… racism is coming from school, I don’t get bullied anywhere but school. (Mokopuna, aged 12-14, Ōtepoti)

This is more than an interpersonal matter. It’s systematic and traumatising, and it can have a lifelong impact on a child.

The young people who took part in the research recognised that adults with authority, such as teachers and principals, could make a real difference in their situations.

However, in my experience, raising matters of racism in schools with adults in power isn’t easy. The young people are likely to be met with the typical deny, deflect, defend manoeuvres that many schools and boards of trustees default to. This happens despite young people being protected by the Education Act, 2020, which places responsibility on schools to ensure an emotionally safe place for all students and “to take all reasonable steps to eliminate racism”. Too many parents whose children experience racism at school report that their children seem unworthy of the law’s protection, as their complaints are often ignored or downplayed.

To take all reasonable steps would include collecting the necessary racial incident data in the first place. All reasonable steps would include opportunities to ask learners, family and staff about their experiences of racism at school and for both young people and their families being able to report concerns safely in the expectation that they will be addressed.

Part of the problem, I believe, is that our educational leadership and decision-making roles are predominantly filled by individuals who never have to consider looking through the lens of race.

The latest available headcount by ethnicity from 2021 shows that Pākehā deputy principals and principals overwhelmingly make up the leadership of schools across Aotearoa: 77 percent are Pākehā. Meanwhile, 18 percent are Māori, 2.7 percent Pasifika, 0.89 percent Asian, 0.08 MELA, and 1.4 percent other.

This is despite the national student population being just 46 percent Pākeha, 25 percent Māori, 15 percent Asian, 10 percent Pacific, and 3 percent other.

School boards of trustees aren’t much better: 60 percent of board members are Pākehā.

It’s reasonable to assume, therefore, that most of the people in charge across our schools and education sector have likely never experienced racism themselves. Could this point to why tackling racism in the education sector is not an urgent matter? Even though schools have been asked by the Education Review Office to ramp up efforts to stop racist bullying in schools?

As one mokopuna Māori (aged 14-16, and now in a remand home) put it:

You can’t fix racism because people don’t really want to fix it, they talk about it and they pretend to care but they actually don’t care.

This mokopuna summarised the official response to racism complaints in this way:

We don’t care because we don’t understand, but if we understand we would help to fix things . . . Give me some time, I’ll keep thinking about ways to fix racism, when are you coming back?

Another, aged 12-16, in Ōtepoti (Dunedin) said:

For people in government: Actually listen + know what it [racism] means. Don’t just take ideas, act upon it.

Honestly, I don’t see much changing.

As a parent, it’s incredibly difficult to witness the utter disconnect between our school leadership and the overwhelming evidence that action needs to happen, urgently.

I’m often faced with eyes that are closed and ears that are intentionally blocked from not wanting to hear the evidence. I’ve become accustomed to going through a tick box process that changes nothing. What all this suggests — from both the government and the education sector — is the absolute indifference and lack of care that exists for our young people from Indigenous and migrant communities of colour in our school system.

Erica Stanford, National’s Minister for Education, plans to lift academic achievement. But her vision for attaining equity doesn’t currently include a plan for collecting data on racial incidents. Until this happens we will continue to hide the true scale of the problem.

Despite this, we should remember that schools don’t require mandates from the government to begin collecting their own data and putting systems in place to have a more diverse leadership and boards of trustees.

A good place to start would be to simply admit that there is an issue of racism in our schools, and to start talking about it in our communities and at school. For schools to begin to collect their own data.

We need our children to know that we take their experiences seriously, that we hear their hurt, and care enough, be committed enough to do something about it.

 

Ara Alam-Simmons is a parent, anti-racist educator and facilitator who is completing her PhD with WERO (Working to End Racial Oppression) at Waikato University.

E-Tangata, 2024