Life histories

Explanatory notes
Many pre-university pupils and students attending higher vocational education study generations. They write papers on this topic, often supplementing them nowadays with video reports. Social studies, history, economics and management, particularly, lend themselves to theses and graduation papers on generations.
Most students write papers on the life histories of members of generations. This practice is known as a ‘life history approach’, which is habitually used in historical sciences and sociology. Several chapters in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs contain examples of this approach.
Because this book, Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs, will likely inspire many pupils to learn about generations during their studies some examples are provided here, the first being interviews with seniors of the Pre-War Generation and the Silent Generation. What was their childhood like and how did their formative years affect the rest of their lives? What impressions have they retained of the ‘Cultural Revolution’ of the late 1960s and early 1970s? How did they benefit from the economically favourable 1990s and how did they prepare themselves for their retirement years?

A second example is interviews with women concerning their experience with discrimination against women. Members of the Pre-War and Silent Generations suffered serious discrimination on the employment market. Take, for instance, women in public service who automatically lost their job upon getting married. One of the radical effects of the ‘Cultural Revolution’ is the strongly reduced discrimination against women, although it is still not entirely eradicated even in the year 2011.

A third example is papers that compare life histories in several generations. This approach often involves collaboration between several pupils or students and lends itself to comparing lucky devils and unlucky dogs. Who has been able to benefit from favourable circumstances and how did they put these advantages to use? Who had to deal with unfavourable conditions? Were the consequences compensated later on in life and did they leave generational scars?

A fourth example concerns changes between generations resulting from the rise of IT and the Internet. Chapter 2 in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs discusses research into technology generations. Many sectors in society can similarly be considered on the basis of the effects of mainly young people becoming digital savvy. In the ‘old days’ youngsters used to learn from adults; nowadays many young people help their grandparents as well as their parents to use PCs and the Internet.
Attention usually focuses on general social generations. They dominate the picture that members of society have of generations. However, specific generations, such as in the art of painting or the art of music, or in professions such as teaching are also suitable topics for papers.
Scientific research projects on generations can be a useful source of information for these papers.

Generational walks ‘Doorn in Europe’

Explanatory notes
In the 1930s, sociology husband-and-wife team Lynd explained the consequences of the economic crisis in the United States by describing them in the setting of a medium-sized town. They called it Middletown which, as it later emerged, was actually a town called Munci. When, a few years later, the economy recovered upon the introduction of the ‘New Deal’ the Lynds described the upturn in their book Middletown in Transition. The authors wrote both books based on participating observation. Munci acquired international fame through these books.
Many more examples of social developments and involvements are described against the background of a town or village, including examples outside of sciences. Take, for instance, Amsterdam during the depression in the 1930s seen through the eyes of Geert Mak, a Dutch journalist and a non-fiction writer in the field of history.

This exercise chapter takes the Dutch town of Doorn as a concrete example for writing papers. The author’s participating observation gives this chapter its scientific basis; however, literary sources are available as well. Author Simon Vestdijk discussed ‘het dorp van de donder’ (the village of thunder) in his essay Gestalten tegenover mij (Shapes in front of me). At the beginning of this century Marjolijn Februari used Doorn ‘anonymously’ as the background for one of her novels. Website www.heuvelrug.nl contains a video of Doorn and other towns of the Utrechtse Heuvelrug (Utrecht Ridge).
The preceding section on life histories can be read as a separate entity but can also be read in preparation of the section on generational walks.

From bad to worse
The first example of a generational walk is based on Simon Vestdijk’s novel De Zwarte Ruiter (The Black Rider). It is set in the woods around the Ruiterberg estate in Doorn and centres on two leading figures, a young girl and her father. The father is a typical member of the conservative Pre-War Generation. In his opinion, father knows best. He is the kind of father who, when arguing with a child, tends to say ‘end of discussion’, breaking off any further argumentation. This kind of behaviour has filled many children with despair.

When she was young, the father ill-treated his daughter, crippling her for life. In remorse the father changed his behaviour towards his daughter, but his ill-treatment worsened the fate of the child. Therefore, the saying ‘from bad to worse’ is highly relevant. In despair and in a trance the girl wanders through the heathland near her father’s estate, the Ruiterberg, where she encounters the Black Rider. The girl sets fire to some heather. Due to a fatal twist of fate the heath catches fire and the girl perishes in the flames.

The idea of a Black Rider is based on a legend of the Spessart, a woodland in Germany. In this legend a father gambles away his daughter. When the winners of the dice game come to claim their prize the nobleman jumps on his horse, with his daughter riding pillion, and tries to flee the fortress. During this flight the daughter is killed.
This legend forms the background for the first generational walk through the town of Doorn. In our mind’s eye Vestdijk’s novel unfolds before us. The heathland is still there and the Ruiterberg estate still graces the landscape.

The saying ‘from bad to worse’ has lost nothing of its meaning. Even in our day and age parents sometimes make decisions that make children ‘jump out of the frying pan into the fire’. Policy makers in organisations issue orders that go wrong. National governments and international bodies have been known to pursue a policy that does not improve but only worsens the situation. In these instances, the mechanism ‘from bad to worse’ usually relates to the relationship between generations, often concerning general and sometimes specific generations as well.
For purposes of writing a paper, one can take parents whose generation is not very authoritarian. Initially, they are very forgiving towards their children. However, if this approach results in unwelcome behaviour abrupt harsh demands for discipline might be made, in which case the children can be expected to rebel. Numerous situations in society can be analysed on the basis of ‘from bad to worse’. Examining lives can sometimes bring such mechanisms to one’s notice.

Generational scars
Being part of a social generation can in time lead to bottlenecks in the form of generational scars influencing one’s life. If we take an imaginary walk through Doorn we first come across a large woodland studded with dozens of bungalows housing military victims of the Second World War and later military campaigns. The residents are provided help and support from a central building. The Second World War is a well-known cause of generational scars among citizens and the military. Later military operations have in turn affected later generations.
Continuing our walk we come across an entirely different kind of generational scar. In the heart of the town is a building that used to be a Calvinist church. Due to the sharp fall in the number of people who foster Calvinist religious convictions the members of the Calvinist church had to merge with other religious communities, such as those of the Dutch Reformed Church. The Maartenskerk (church) now accommodates both Calvinists and members of the Dutch Reformed Church, a development that will have left many Calvinists with a generational scar.
Those who have lived in Doorn for many years can point out the spot where a kindergarten used to be. When the number of births in Doorn dropped starting in 1970, the number of under-fives decreased as well and the school became redundant. Perhaps not a dramatic generational scar, but a symbol of a radical social trend break nevertheless.

Those who wish to write a paper on generational scars can walk around their town and record the traces of such unwelcome trend breaks. If life histories have already been compiled then signs pointing to generational scars can usually be derived from this data as well.

Generations in the arts

The town centre and rural areas around the town in particular boast numerous buildings that reflect a pattern of generations. Generations of affluent citizens who commissioned houses; generations of architects who were given the opportunity to express their artistic convictions in buildings; titled families who built manor houses along a waterway just outside of town. Doorn features stately mansions built in the 17th century as country houses for wealthy people from Amsterdam. Of more recent date is a residence designed by architect Rietveld.
During this walk we also come across several sculptures in the public space that reflect the difference between generations of artists and their donors.
Those who focus their attention on buildings and works of art will make interesting observations, especially in cities. Take, for instance, remnants of the Jugendstil, originating from a generation of rather influential artists around the turn of the century.

 

Tours around historic buildings
Those who wander through Doorn will certainly want to visit ‘Huis Doorn’, originally the country seat of the bishops of Utrecht and occupied for many years in the 20^th century by the last emperor of Germany. Huis Doorn is now a museum centred on the interbellum period. Its visitors include many seniors and particularly members of older generations from Germany. Members of younger generations, possibly on a school trip with a historical perspective, are also seen touring the manor house and its surrounding park. Huis Doorn and the history of the German emperor give generational walks through Doorn a special European distinction.
Quite a few readers of Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs will find one or more historical locations in their own town or city that attract visitors of different generations. This can arouse interest for generationally-aware tours through or past those sites.

A generational walk in 2050
An entirely different generational walk through a town like Doorn is one that explores what the town would be like in 2050. Doorn has housing complexes dedicated to the care of infirm senior citizens. Would care robots be put to use in these facilities in 2050 and what functions would they be able to perform? Doorn counts many restaurants and bars. Would robot waiters work in these establishments in 2050?
Surely, by 2050 ‘the alternative workplace strategy’ would have been widely implemented. Many professionals would work a few days each week from home using the Internet and particularly video conferencing. International universities would be able to provide top courses from decentralised, collaborating centres in any required language. This has already been sketched in this book. One chapter also mentions how language barriers can be bridged in the future.

Science courts

Explanatory notes
Those who wish to write a paper on generations can also opt to use a ‘science tribunal’. This approach was first taken when the debate on the environment first emerged. Practical issues came to light that could not be solved entirely by way of traditional debates between advocates and opponents. Differences of opinion can be mostly solved by involving a science tribunal, although this approach does not take into account the possibility that some problems cannot be solved at all.

Science tribunals are along the lines of a criminal court. Three roles are involved, each of which can be fulfilled by one or more people: firstly, the role of prosecutor; secondly, the role of defender; thirdly, the role of ‘passive judge’. Criminal judges do not first make their own judgement but try to discover the truth by asking both prosecutor and defender questions. As explained in the chapter on environmental issues, science tribunals were held in the Netherlands in 1982 with respect to the Social Debate on Energy Policy. In those days they were referred to as ‘controversy sessions’.
A science tribunal can be deployed for purposes of an educational paper to methodically debate a specific difficult issue. The author of the paper organises a science tribunal while collecting material for the paper. The tribunal holds one or several sessions, each dealing with one or several dossiers. The results of these sessions can be processed into knowledge concerning the central social issue.
Social justice between generations can be considered a serious social issue. How much should the older generations, the baby boom generations and the younger generations each contribute in order to ensure a fair distribution of the costs of pensions and health care up to 2050?
The same can be asked with respect to the environmental problems up to 2050.

Should any questions arise with respect to the operationalisation of variables while studying social generations, one or more science tribunal sessions can help to explain matters.

Training sessions on generationally-aware policy
The Europe 2020 – A strategy for Smart, Sustainable and Inclusive Growth report provides clear evidence for the necessity of generationally-aware policy. It also shows that this kind of approach goes beyond what we have at our disposal today. New methods are required for studies, strategy formation and pre-assessment, called social impact assessment. This section contains a preliminary study.
Once the new methods are available policy makers and all other involved parties will need to attend training sessions to learn how to use them.
The main thing here is that there is no way to accurately predict the future of the countries concerned. The best possible policy is one that, prior to implementation, reduces the chance of our eventually regretting that policy to a minimum.
Suppose a generationally-aware policy is being considered for implementation in a certain part in society. Studies will first need to be done to show which social bottlenecks are involved and how the policy could be pursued. This is called the preparatory phase. This is followed by the main phase which in turn is followed by an institutionalisation phase. Each of these phases will now be discussed in succession. This phase model constitutes a checklist; it is, therefore, an overview of sub-analyses from which the author of a paper can choose.

The preparatory phase
Suppose a religious community wants to take a new approach to the generation-related decline in the number of its members and their activities. A second example is a university that aims to improve its courses and the way in which it practices science so as to bridge generational differences amongst its scientists.
Both these examples first require a problem analysis to determine the key focus actor. Is this focus actor a part of an organisation? An organisation as a whole? A collaboration between organisations? A combination of these actors?
Focus actors are the parties that must realise a strategy that is to be formulated. They are often a collaborating association made up of actors that are each other’s competitors. Take, for instance, local communities or universities.
The next step is to list the focus actor’s activities. What is the mission? Which strategies are currently in place? What tactics are involved? Which operational planning applies? What phases does one propose?
An organisation’s official mission, such as is described in publicity brochures for instance, and its actual mission usually contain discrepancies. Copy out both the official mission and the actual mission. Sometimes the aims are difficult to put down in writing, but they certainly can be defined in guarded terms.

Problem analysis
What problems does the focus actor expect in realising the mission and other plans? Policy makers fairly often respond: ‘It’s not my job to have unsolved problems’. To get around this, policy makers can best be asked what dilemmas they have to contend with. Dilemmas are ‘equally desirable (or undesirable) alternatives’ to policy choices.

System analysis
Next, it is necessary to ascertain which organisations are involved in the planned policy. First, the focus actor is put on paper, from where an arrow diagram is drawn up containing the positions of all significant opponents. Which organisations must the focus actor reckon with?

Trend analysis
Which social developments must be considered when formulating a strategy? Which social developments have a heavy impact on the strategy and which have a lighter impact? A preliminary trend analysis gives a tentative idea.

Project design
The project design describes the target situation, including the deadline for achieving the target. It also involves several advisable interim situations towards the final goal and includes a list of available resources.
The preparatory phase starts with rough outlines which are then reviewed and improved bit by bit during the course of the preparatory phase.

The main phase
Those who draw up the strategy must try to put the main aspects of the problem and the solutions down on paper. A workable method is to first analyse and design in separate subgroups, then discuss the results in a plenary meeting, followed by another series of meetings in subgroups.

Environment scenarios
Those who help form a strategy tend to first consider developments around focus actor and opponents as following naturally from recent developments. To overcome this blinkered view several environment scenarios must be written up. In any case the consideration should include a trend scenario, a shrinkage scenario and a growth scenario. Several impeding developments should also be discussed so as to be sufficiently prepared for unexpected radical events.

Strategies
Which policy alternatives should be included in the considerations? The current policy, usually referred to as business as usual, will need to be included in any case. A moderate and a more risky strategy can also be included.

Pre-assessment
Each strategy’s environment scenarios must be analysed. Which threats are at issue with respect to focus actor and opponents? Which opportunities do the actors have, both as regards established resources and hidden resources?

Decision-making
Decision-making concludes the main phase. All things must be considered. A phased plan specifies how the objectives can be realised.

The institutionalising phase
Next, it must be specified how the generationally-aware policy is to be embedded in the organisation. How should the focus actor do this? What manpower must be deployed? This phase also specifies what organisational units are needed. Take, for instance, departments and their cohesion.

Continuous assessment
A periodic formative assessment is required during the implementation of the policy. A summative assessment is done upon completion.

Training sessions
The above is called ‘strategic learning’. The activities produce results vis-à-vis strategic goals. The activities also require ongoing reflection and adjustment if necessary.
The training sessions need to address ‘instant assessments’, or in other words lightning analyses. Some instances require that the cycle is completed within fifteen minutes or an hour. If the strategy that is to be formed involves serious implications, a lightning analysis is only a stopgap solution. The training sessions must also discuss medium-term and long-term policy processes.
Very experienced policy makers have learned – often the hard way – that completing the cycle is an absolute necessity as all too often it turns out that a strategy designed in haste eventually results in unwelcome surprises.

Five worked out cases

Case 1 : Generationally-aware policy in secondary education
The first case concerns secondary education. Those who work on this case are advised to first revisit the chapter in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs on generations in education as well as the chapter on generations and language barriers.
This case takes an imaginary regional network of secondary education schools. The growing shortage of teachers over the coming years is the first problem set related to the dynamics of generations. The second problem set is the increasing shortage of pupils for certain subjects due to the fall in the birth rate. The third problem set is the English-language pre-university-plus courses for which language assistance is advised. Expected cutbacks are the fourth problem set.
Virtual distance learning can solve the problem of long-term vacancies or a teacher’s prolonged illness. Virtual distance learning enables one teacher to teach two classes, provided the class without a teacher does have a class assistant present.
An inspiring example is education provided in the Frisian language as discussed elsewhere in this book. The interested pupils live so far apart that they cannot be grouped into a class, so they are taught individually via virtual distance learning.
Pre-university-plus courses are taught in English. Students usually acquire sufficient working knowledge; however, once complicated constructions have to be used multilingual communication support can prove necessary.

The Zuyderzee College merits particular attention. Its website contains information on computer-assisted learning as well as on the ‘electronic learning environment’ (ELE) which eliminates the use of textbooks. Papers that are written on generationally-aware policy in secondary education should make special mention of ELE.

Case 2 : Generationally-aware policy in a religious community
The second case requires that the chapter in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs on generational differences in the environment and religions is revisited, after which the relevant problem sets merit attention. The first problem set has to do with risk awareness. The relevant chapter has already pointed out that growing risk and risk awareness can cause an increase in the number of people who say they foster religious faith. Risk awareness is expected to grow over the coming years, particularly amongst the younger generations. The second problem set is that not many Dutch people still attend church. This poses a problem for church communities, who are now looking for new ways to survive.

Sociologist of culture and religion Joep de Hart studies the situation with respect to religion in the Netherlands in his book entitled Zwevende gelovigen: oude religie en nieuwe spiritualiteit (Floating believers: old religion and new spirituality), which was published in Amsterdam in 2010 by Bert Bakker. The churches are dying but religion is not dying out. Approximately 40% of the Dutch population is a member of a church community and 15% attends church every week. Approximately 60% of the population believes in God or ‘a higher force’. Two out of every three Dutch people believe in life after death. 40% believes in miracles and in the usefulness of prayer.
In other countries more and more church communities are establishing a ‘virtual church’ alongside their traditional church organisation. In the Netherlands, the Protestantse Kerk in Nederland (PKN/Protestant Churches in the Netherlands) has already introduced a virtual church. Information on this church can be found on the Internet.

An interesting challenge with respect to generationally-aware policy is to design a ‘virtual church’ for a religious organisation of one’s own choice that caters to generational differences among its potential members. The Nederlandse Protestantenbond (Dutch Protestant Union) can serve as an example. Families with young children like to enjoy outdoor activities on Sunday mornings and therefore have little or no interest in church services, even if they are also geared to children. Middle-aged as well as senior believers usually want to spend their Sunday mornings enjoying nature and culture. A virtual church can organise services that can be attended via the Internet on weekday evenings. Distance meditation can also be presented. The components of a virtual church can be worked out in a paper.

Case 3 : Generationally-aware policy in university education
The third case requires that the chapter in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs on generations in science be revisited. The first problem set presents the significant shrinkage that can be expected in the number of academics working in universities. The shrinkage can be expected as a result of the baby boomers retiring.
The second problem set is additional expected cutbacks. Presumably many vacancies will remain unfilled. A hidden resource in the Dutch academic system presents an opportunity. If universities join forces with respect to education a significant amount of manpower could be deployed more efficiently, such as in the case of one discipline that is taught in several universities. During the first few years of the course the universities could share subjects such as the history of the discipline, statistics as well as research methods and techniques. Besides this communal part, the courses can also comprise a specific part geared to the peculiarities of the discipline. The Zuyderzee College can again serve as a tangible example. The manner in which generationally-aware virtual distance learning could be realised in the university system could be a topic for a paper. The specific features of the youngest generation of students ought to be discounted, particularly their IT skills. The specific characteristics of older generation university teachers can also be deployed systematically.

Case 4 : Generationally-aware policy in the practice of science
To work on the fourth case the chapter in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs on generations in science should be revisited before examining the problem sets. The first problem set involves the ever-growing competition between universities, faculties and research groups. External assessments and rankings force the collective social actors involved to constantly heighten their research activities and publication behaviour. The second problem set is the necessity for ensuring not only acute top specialism but also a wide perspective on one’s field of expertise. The occurrence of ‘blinkered specialists’ must be prevented. The third problem set can be found in the hidden resources among emeriti and other senior scientists. To exemplify, an international market for top emeriti has emerged. Problem set number four relates to the hidden resources that can be found in the opportunities for universities to collaborate within their own country as well as abroad, the latter as part of the globalisation of science.
Those who wish to write a paper on this topic can design a ‘virtual institute of advanced studies’ (VIAS). Virtual Institutes of Advanced Studies can recruit English-speaking scientists from around the world. Top emeriti should be given special attention here.

Case 5 : Generationally-aware policy and the alternative working strategy
Those who wish to work on the fifth case must first reread the chapter on generations and language barriers in Generations of Lucky Devils and Unlucky Dogs . They are also advised to revisit Chapter 2 containing examples of generation patterns.
It is a well-known phenomenon that more people are mastering the advancing English language in large parts of the Western world, although French-speaking countries and most other Mediterranean countries still do not have a working knowledge of English. The chapter on generations and language barriers shows that systems for multilingual communication, such as Sociolingafranca, can overcome this shortcoming.
The alternative working strategy implies that paid work can be carried out for clients all around the world from alternative workplaces, such as one’s own home. The globalisation of the labour market is in full swing. This means that assignments can be carried out in the language of the customer’s country. Take, for instance, French and other Mediterranean languages. The work can involve education and training courses; or coaching; or administration and bookkeeping.
Designing, testing and institutionalising distance working in accordance with the possibilities provided by the alternative working strategy requires quite a few organisational facilities. This constitutes a useful challenge for developing a training course and drawing up a master document.

In closing

Bonus chapter 15 containing ‘frequently asked questions’ includes an example of a report on a generational walk. This bonus chapter will also contain an example of a paper pertaining to a form of generationally-aware policy.

Background information on designing a generationally-aware policy can be found in: Henk A. Becker 1997. Social impact assessment: method and experience in Europe, North America and the Developing World. Routledge, London. Also in Henk A. Becker & Frank Vanclay (eds.) 2003. The International Handbook of Social Impact Assessment: Conceptual and Methodological Advances. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar.

For the bonus chapter see: www.europegenerations.com

The book accompanies the European Year for Active Ageing and Solidarity between Generations 2012

Attitudes of Dutch coffeeshop owners and cannabis users to the proposed ‘cannabis ID’ and the consequences they expect.

ABSTRACT
The sale of cannabis to persons aged 18 or older is permitted in the Netherlands under certain conditions in commercial establishments called coffeeshops. The present Dutch government has proposed that access to coffeeshops be restricted to persons holding a cannabis ID, a mandatory membership card known colloquially as a ‘weed pass’ (wietpas). Recent interviews with 66 Amsterdam coffeeshop owners reveal that they expect mainly detrimental effects from the proposed measure. In particular, they predict customer resistance to compulsory registration, the discriminatory exclusion of tourists and other non-members, and a resurgence of cannabis street dealing. Two surveys of cannabis users (in a local sample of 1214 Amsterdam coffeeshop customers and a nationwide sample of 1049 last-month users) confirmed that many, but not all, users would oppose registration. The majority of respondents intended to look for other suppliers or to grow their own marijuana if the cannabis ID becomes law. Surprisingly, about one in ten said they would stop smoking cannabis.

Introduction
Wide differences exist between Western countries in terms of national cannabis policies (MacCoun & Reuter, 2002; Decorte et al., 2011; EMCDDA, 2010). In the Netherlands, cannabis is officially an illicit drug, but the retail cannabis market has uniquely been decriminalised by measures providing for the legal toleration of hashish and marijuana sales to consumers via commercial venues known as coffeeshops (Box I). Most coffeeshops are cafés, but some function more as take-away shops, where cannabis can be bought but not consumed.

Box I  – Coffeeshops and Dutch cannabis legislation
The first Dutch drug law dates from nearly a century ago: the Opium Act of 1919. The import and export of cannabis was added to the act in 1928; possession, manufacture and sale became offences in 1953. The statutory decriminalisation of cannabis took place in 1976. De facto decriminalisation had set in earlier, as local authorities began tolerating ‘house dealers’ in youth centres in the early 1970s. Experiments with this approach were formalised in the revised Opium Act of 1976. It distinguishes between Schedule I drugs (such as heroin and cocaine), seen as posing an ‘unacceptable’ risk, and Schedule II substances (mainly cannabis products), which carry lower official penalties.

The legal basis for coffeeshops had been laid by the Dutch government when it decriminalised cannabis in 1976. Latitude was created for sales of small amounts of cannabis to consumers (though selling remained officially illegal), on the crucial condition that the sale of cannabis be strictly separated from markets for hard drugs. Coffeeshops were one result of the deriminalisation process, albeit not exactly what policymakers had envisaged. A series of later court decisions effectively subsumed coffeeshops under existing legislation.

Since the 1960s, the Dutch retail market for cannabis has gone through different stages, originating in the sale of cannabis in underground markets. During the 1970s, sales shifted to tolerated ‘house dealers’ in youth clubs and nightspots, and coffeeshops took over the market in the 1980s (Jansen, 1991; Korf, 2002). The number of coffeeshops expanded dramatically during the 1980s, peaking in the mid-1990s at about 1,500 throughout the country (Bieleman & Goeree, 2001). A new phase then ensued, and the number began to diminish. Although coffeeshops must meet nationally defined criteria (Box II), policy modifications in 1996 gave local governments the right to decide whether or not to authorise coffeeshops within their jurisdictions; they may now close down or ban coffeeshops, even if these do not violate national criteria. In the wake of that policy change, many municipalities decided to close down all existing coffeeshops or limit their number. By 1999, the number of coffeeshops in the country had almost halved to 846. The downward trend continued, and the most recent national figures reported 666 coffeeshops by the end of 2009; 340 (77.1%) of the then 441 municipalities had decided not to allow any coffeeshops at all (Bieleman & Nijkamp, 2010).

Box II – National guidelines for coffeeshops
Official national Guidelines for Investigation and Prosecution came into force in 1979. They stipulated that the retail sale of cannabis to consumers may be tolerated, provided that certain criteria were met: no advertising, no hard drugs, no nuisance and no young clientele (later defined in 1996 as under age 18). More recently, additional criteria were formulated: no large quantities (maximum of 5 grams of cannabis per client per transaction and per day; maximum of 500 grams of cannabis stock in coffeeshop at any one time); and no alcohol served on premises.

The newest criterion specifies minimum distances between coffeeshops and secondary schools. According to most current plans being discussed by the government, a nationwide minimum distance of 350 meters would be set, but the Parliament is still deliberating on this and other deterrent measures.

In recent years, the Dutch political agenda on coffeeshop policy has predominantly focused on issues involving the wholesale supply chains to coffeeshops (the ‘back door problem’; Korf, 2011) and on the pull exercised by coffeeshops in border areas on customers from neighbouring countries, which is a source of considerable nuisance. In an attempt to combat the latter problem, the national government has proposed mandatory club membership for coffeeshop customers. This would make all coffeeshops into private clubs accessible only to residents of the Netherlands aged 18 or older who have been issued a cannabis ID, a membership card meanwhile colloquially known as the ‘weed pass’. Persons wishing to patronise coffeeshops must register to do so, and this is intended to have a strong deterrent effect on cannabis users living in neighbouring countries (notably Germany, Belgium and France). Perhaps the most crucial question in terms of legal feasibility is whether the Netherlands would be entitled under EU treaties to exclude other EU citizens in such a way.

The future will tell whether and how the cannabis ID will be introduced. If that should indeed happen, though, what consequences could then be expected for the retail cannabis market? The purpose of this article is to gauge the breadth of support for the cannabis ID among the immediate stakeholders in that market and to assess the potential consequences of the measure.

Amsterdam coffeeshop proprietors and their opinions on the cannabis ID
One third of all Dutch coffeeshops are located in Amsterdam, though only 5% of the country’s population lives there. About half of the 222 Amsterdam coffeeshops are found in the city centre, and many attract a substantial number of tourists. Unlike the situation in border towns, the foreign visitors do not come to Amsterdam primarily for coffeeshops. Most stay in the city for several days at least, and coffeeshop customers cause little or no nuisance. Coffeeshops outside the city centre cater mainly to local residents.

In view of the large number of coffeeshops in Amsterdam, whether or not frequented by tourists, the introduction of a cannabis ID could have relatively drastic consequences for such businesses. In the spring of 2011, we therefore conducted face-to-face interviews with 66 coffeeshop owners (or their managers). Their coffeeshops were found all over the city, both in the inner city and in more outlying districts; the sample reliably reflected the variation in Amsterdam coffeeshops in terms of size, number of customers and customer profiles.

Almost nine in ten of the interviewed owners expected the introduction of IDs to have exclusively negative consequences. The rest likewise foresaw mainly detrimental effects but did cite some advantages, such as guaranteed custom. ‘Your regular customers will have to register at your coffeeshop and will be allowed to buy their grass or hash only from you. That ensures customer loyalty.’ Virtually all respondents listed a range of drawbacks to the proposed system, falling roughly into three categories:

1. The registration and privacy problem
To many coffeeshop owners, it was patently self-evident that the registration system would spark disquiet amongst customers. ‘People don’t want to be registered for anything, let alone as potheads.’ One proprietor with many doctors and lawyers in his clientele pointed to the detriment they might suffer if they were registered as cannabis users. ‘Nobody needs to know how much and how often they smoke. Why would they?’ A question many owners were asking is what would be done with the stored data. An additional drawback in this category is the constriction of customers’ freedom of choice if they can register for only one coffeeshop.

2. Exclusion of foreign tourists and other non-members
Introduction of cannabis IDs would, according to proprietors, ‘exclude tourists from participation’, a prospect that caused considerable indignation. ‘It’s pure discrimination!’ and ‘Tourists can now buy safe, good-quality cannabis. Who in the hell would want to change that?’ Since tourism is a mainstay of the broader Amsterdam economy, the measure might also deal a hard blow to the municipal coffers. Not only foreign tourists, but also shoppers and visiting relatives from other Dutch towns would be prohibited from buying cannabis in Amsterdam. People who only smoke cannabis occasionally would also be stigmatised; even if you only smoke once a year, you would still have to register as a pot smoker.

3. Revival of street dealing
If tourists are banned from coffeeshops, proprietors said, the lively cannabis street trade of decades ago will resurface. Dutch customers who oppose registration will also seek their sustenance elsewhere, and that could well be from street dealers. The illegal market would generate crime and nuisance. Some also foresaw an increase in under-the-counter sales. ‘Your customers will still be coming in to buy their joints from you, whether you’re a coffeeshop, a pub or a snack bar.’ A final objection was an expected black-market trade in cannabis IDs, which would provide tourists and minors with a good alternative means of procuring their drugs.

Two surveys of cannabis users
Directly after our interviews with the coffeeshop owners in the spring of 2011, we conducted a site survey of customers in 59 Amsterdam coffeeshops, similarly dispersed across the city. The 1214 respondents did not constitute a representative sample of all coffeeshop customers in the city. In our recruitment strategy, the more frequent customers had a much higher probability of being interviewed than occasional customers. The sample did provide a reasonably reliable picture of the clientele present in coffeeshops on peak days and at peak hours. By concentrating on peak days (Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays) and peak hours (3 to 9 pm), we compensated somewhat for the overrepresentation of frequent or  daily customers in the sample. The survey was further confined to customers who spoke sufficient Dutch, which in practice mainly excluded foreign tourists.

Subsequently, from May to mid-July 2011, we conducted a nationwide online survey entitled Sex & Drugs via the website of BNN, a Dutch public broadcasting organisation that targets mainly adolescents and young adults. A total of 3257 persons completed the questionnaire, of whom 1049 had smoked cannabis in the past month (current users). Questions on the cannabis ID were submitted to the latter group only.

The minimum age for entering a coffeeshop is 18. In our Amsterdam coffeeshop survey, the average age in the sample was 32.4, with a peak in the 25-34 age category. In the online survey, not confined to coffeeshop customers, the average age of the current cannabis users was distinctly lower (23.4), peaking in the 18-24 category (figure 1).

The samples also differed in gender terms. A small minority of respondents in the coffeeshop survey were female (13.6%), whilst more than half (52.5%) of the current cannabis users nationwide were female.[i]

The Amsterdam coffeeshop customers we polled were also far more likely than the online respondents to be daily or near-daily cannabis users (figure 2).

Willingness to register for the cannabis ID
Both in the interviews with Amsterdam coffeeshop customers and in the online nationwide survey, we asked two questions about the proposed cannabis ID. The first was: ‘Imagine that a mandatory cannabis ID has just been introduced. You would then get registered at one coffeeshop and you would only be allowed into that coffeeshop. What would you think about that?’ Respondents could choose from three answer options (see table 1).

Despite the large differences between the two surveys in terms of age, gender distribution and frequency of cannabis use, only a tiny minority in each survey indicated a willingness to register and obtain a cannabis ID from the coffeeshop of their choice. Slightly more respondents said they would register if the cannabis ID gave access to several coffeeshops of their choice. Large majorities came out against registration in the online survey and, still more strongly, in the Amsterdam customers’ survey.[ii]

Perceived consequences of the cannabis ID
We next asked both samples: ‘Suppose that the cannabis ID were absolutely restricted to a single coffeeshop. What would you do then?’ Out of eight answer options, respondents could choose the one that suited them best (see table 2).
Table 2.  – Suppose that the cannabis ID were absolutely restricted to a single coffeeshop. What would you do then?

Notwithstanding small variations between the surveys on various answers, similar patterns emerged (figure 3).[iii]

The proportion that would now register despite earlier objections grew to just under one third, most of whom would opt for their regular coffeeshop. In contrast to them, a markedly smaller but noteworthy proportion (11%-12%) reported they would shun the ID and stop smoking cannabis should they be obliged to register with and patronise a single coffeeshop only.

 

The majority reported that they would refuse the cannabis ID and then obtain their cannabis from other sources outside the coffeeshops. Three types of intentions were distinguishable:

Delegating. These respondents would get someone else to go to the coffeeshop for them. Current cannabis users in the nationwide survey were about twice as likely to choose this ‘indirect supply from coffeeshops’ option as compared to the Amsterdam coffeeshop customers. The difference could be traced mainly to the non-daily users.

Market displacement towards home growing. Nearly one quarter of the Amsterdam coffeeshop customers and one fifth of the current users nationwide said they would grow their own marijuana or buy it from a grower.

Market displacement towards other drug dealers. Over one quarter of respondents in both surveys said they would buy marijuana or hashish in a setting other than coffeeshops (e.g. street settings), from a different source (e.g. a home-based dealer), or through home delivery.

Conclusions and discussion
Amsterdam coffeeshop owners foresee almost no advantages from the introduction of the proposed cannabis ID. They predict that it will compromise the privacy of customers (many of whom are expected to shun registration); that it will impose a discriminatory ban on foreign tourists and other non-residents of the city, which could eventually also have a significant impact on the local economy; and that it will trigger a revival of  street dealing in soft drugs, thus weakening the current separation of markets and making hard drugs more easily accessible to cannabis users.

The coffeeshop owners’ prediction that many customers will resist the cannabis ID is confirmed by our survey of Amsterdam coffeeshop customers. When informed about the proposed ID, the vast majority of customers spontaneously answered that they would oppose registering to qualify for an ID, as did a substantial majority of current cannabis users throughout the country. Resistance slackened somewhat when respondents were presented with a strict scenario of compulsory registration; almost one in three said they would then register after all. The majority of refusers would opt for growing their own marijuana or buying directly from a cannabis grower, or for purchasing cannabis through other channels than coffeeshops, such as drugs delivery services, home-based dealers or street dealers. Some refusers would get others to go to coffeeshops for them, thus still indirectly patronising the coffeeshops.

Notably, over ten per cent of respondents said they would stop smoking cannabis if the ID becomes law. Coffeeshop owners did not appear to expect any such development, and it is questionable whether those who say they would quit would actually do so. After all, intention is no guarantee for real behavioural change (Ajzen, 1985; Bamberg et al., 2003; Bandura, 1986; De Vries et al., 1998; Prochaska & DiClemente, 1982). Similar uncertainty applies to the prediction – made by coffeeshop owners, customers and surveyed current users alike – that the cannabis supply would shift to the streets and other locations and to home grow.

A limitation to this study is that the surveys were based on non-normative convenience samples. Some caution is therefore warranted as to the generalisability of the reported percentages. That said, there were striking similarities between the two samples both in attitudes to mandatory registration and in the perceived consequences of the cannabis ID, despite differences between the surveys in terms of method (site versus online survey), geographical scope (Amsterdam versus nationwide) and respondent characteristics (age, gender, frequency of cannabis use). Displacement of the retail cannabis market to non-coffeeshop settings, as indicated by both surveys, therefore seems a very real possibility, although it is unclear to what extent and in what ways that might happen.

All in all, our surveys of cannabis users provide empirical evidence in support of fears, as expressed by opponents of the cannabis ID, that it will lead to a resurgence of the underground retail cannabis market and the accompanying crime and nuisance. Proponents of the ID will undoubtedly be keen to argue in the political debate that introducing the ID will help curb the use of cannabis.

Notes
[i] Women were somewhat overrepresented in the total Sex & Drugs sample (55.1% female versus 43.6% male). Males in that sample were slightly more likely to have consumed cannabis in the past month (34.3% versus 30.9%, p < .05).
[ii] Some of the current cannabis users in the nationwide online survey were under 18 and hence too young to enter a coffeeshop. Amongst respondents 18 and older, the percentages were similar to those in the overall sample (6.0% and 22.7% would register and 71.8% would refuse; percentages for under-18s were 2.3%, 14.8% and 82.9%.
[iii] Confining ourselves to the nationwide respondents aged 18 or older, virtually the same pattern emerges as in the overall sample: 32.1% would register, 12.9% would refuse and get others to buy for them in a coffeeshop, 43.5% would opt for a non-coffeeshop supplier (market displacement) and 11.5% would refuse and give up smoking (percentages for under-18s were 25.0%, 18.1%, 43.1% en 13.9%.

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Published in The Bonger International Bulletin – September 2011

The Bonger International Bulletin reports and discusses findings from research studies conducted at the Bonger Institute of Criminology.

Willem Adriaan Bonger (1876-1940) was one of the founding fathers of Dutch criminology and the first professor of sociology and criminology in the Netherlands. He argued that crime is social in origin and is causally linked to economic and social conditions.

Bonger Institute of Criminology
Faculty of Law, University of Amsterdam

‘Think, instead of identity as a “production” which is never complete, always in process, and always constituted within, not outside representation’ (Hall, 2000).

Abstract

The easing of legal and unauthorized entry to South Africa has made the country a new destination for Black immigrants. As this population continues to grow, its children have begun to experience South African schools in an array of uniquely challenging ways. For these immigrant youth, forging a sense of identity may be their single greatest challenge. Accordingly, this study asks how do immigrant students construct, negotiate, and represent their identities within the South African schooling context. Findings were multifold in nature.

First, although immigrant students’ ease of assimilation into the chosen reference group was to some degree sanctioned by their phenotypic racial features, their attempt at ‘psychosocial passing’ was politically motivated. Second, immigrant students did not readily classify themselves according to skin pigmentocracy. Third, the majority of immigrant students heightened their ethnic self-awareness in forming their identity, but also assumed hyphenated identities. Fourth, immigrant students were not seen as having an identity, but rather as being ‘plugged into a category with associated characteristics or features’. Fifth, immigrant students forged a ‘continental identity’. And sixth, the selfagency of immigrant students was twofold in nature; not only did they want to improve their own condition, but there seemed to be an inherent drive to improve the human condition of others.

Introduction

The demise of formal apartheid has created new and as yet only partially understood opportunities for migration in South Africa. One of the most notable post-apartheid shifts is the sheer volume and diversity of human traffic now crossing South Africa’s borders. South Africa is increasingly host to a truly pan-African and global constituency of legal and undocumented migrants.

Legal migration from other Southern African Development Community (SADC) countries, for example, increased almost tenfold since 1990 to over four million visitors per year. South Africa’s (re)insertion into the global economy has also brought new streams of legal and undocumented migrants from outside the SADC region and new ethnic constellations within. The easing of legal and unauthorized entry to South Africa has made the country a new destination for African asylum-seekers, long-distance traders, entrepreneurs, students, and professionals (Bouillon 1996; Saasa 1996; Rogerson 1997a; de la Hunt 1998; Perbedy & Crush 1998b; Ramphele 1999; Klotz, 2000). Consequently, traditional forms of migration are being reconfigured and new forms of migrant linkage are emerging with traditional neighbours (Crush et al. 1991). These reconfigured and new forms of migrant linkages hold serious implications for immigrant children in South African schools as the dynamics of belonging is no where so harsh as it is as in the day-to-day activities on the classroom floor and in the schoolyard. Many scholars claim that the structure of immigrant students’ journeys to their new homes follows multiple pathways that are motivated by a variety of factors, namely, relief from political, religious, or ethnic persecution; economic incentives; as well as the opportunity to be reunited with family members (Berry, 1997; Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 2001). Furthermore, these scholars argue that immigrant students are stripped of many of their sustaining social relationships as well as the social roles that provide them with culturally scripted notions of how they fit into the world, which often results in acculturative stress (Berry, 1997; Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 2001).

‘For these immigrant youth, forging a sense of identity may be their single greatest challenge. Do they feel comfortable in their homeland? Do they feel accepted by the “native-born” of the host country? What relationship do they have with their parents’ country of origin? Is their sense of identity rooted “here”, “there”, “everywhere”, or “nowhere”’ (Suarez-Orozco, 2001:176)?  How do they forge collective identities that honour both their parents’ culture of origin as well as their new home in South Africa? How can they develop a sense of belonging while coping with the dissonance of ‘excluded citizenship’ (Suarez-Orozco, 2004)?

Since the advent of democracy in South Africa, most public schools in South Africa in addition to opening their doors to all South African children irrespective of race, colour, or creed, have also opened their doors to a number of [black] immigrant children. There is however, very little research on the ways in which immigrant student identities² are framed, challenged, asserted, and negotiated within the dominant institutional cultures of schools. Accordingly, this study asks how do immigrant students construct, negotiate, and represent their identities within the South African schooling context. Are new forms of immigrant students’ self-identities beginning to emerge? The argument is presented as follows. I begin by sketching the background context of the study. This is followed by a review of the literature that informs research on immigrant students’ identities. Conceptual markers and theoretical groundings of this research study are subsequently presented. I then describe the design and sampling of this research study. Findings in the form of emergent themes from interviews and observations of immigrant students are then presented. I conclude with an analysis and discussion of findings, and examine ways in which immigrant students’ identities are constituted, negotiated, and represented within the South African schooling  context.

Background Context

To date, studies in this field have focused mainly on the black and white dynamics of South African students. There is very little, if any, research on the experiences of [black] immigrant students within South African schools. In much of the research on hybridity and transculturalisation, the important role of schooling as a mediating force in identity-making processes has also received little attention. Schools, through both formal and informal relationships, represent powerful interpretations of what it means to be ‘South African’, ‘Mozambican’, or ‘Zimbabwean’, that is, of belonging and nonbelonging. This research study sets out to explore how [black] immigrant students construct, mediate, and negotiate their identity within South African schools. The context of this study was limited to the Gauteng³ province of South Africa.

The central cities of Gauteng have some of the largest numbers of Black immigrants, who are diverse not only in terms of national origin, but by ethnic affiliation, cultural tradition, and generational status. The majority of Black immigrants in the Gauteng province of South Africa are from Mozambique, Lesotho, Zimbabwe, Democratic Republic of Congo, Swaziland, Botswana, Angola, and Malawi, but substantial numbers of immigrants also come from Zambia, Pakistan, Nigeria, Namibia, India, Kenya, Somalia, Uganda, Ruwanda, Ethiopia, Sri Lanka, Tanzania, and Mauritius (Gauteng Department of Education, Ten day statistics – 2008). As this population continues to grow, its children have begun to experience South African schools in an array of uniquely challenging ways. As a result of these demographic trends, researchers have increased their focus on how Black immigrant youth fare once in South African schools. Some of the data capture of this research study occurred during the height of the xenophobic attacks in South Africa (Hassim, Kupe, & Worby, 2008). Larger societal tension fuelled by sensationalistic media attention had much more saliency in the formation of immigrant student identities, and in everyday interactions between South African and immigrant students at schools. The perpetrators of the violence in May explicitly targeted the makwerekwere. ⁴ These xenophobic attacks illustrated violent verbal and physical acts being directed towards Black immigrants by their Black South African counterparts who often erroneously perceived their Black immigrant peers’ lack of  familiarity with so-called ‘South African norms’ as intentionally distancing themselves from Black South Africans and related anti-Black South African arrogance. This ‘shack on shack violence’ (Hassim, Kupe, & Worby, 2008:16) was distinctive in several respects (Verryn, 2008). First, the attacks were on black foreign nationals. There is no record as far as any whites or Indians being caught up in these attacks. Second, it was mainly the poorer and more vulnerable foreign nationals that were exposed to the most vicious onslaught. Third, at least a third of the people killed were South African. And fourth, the violence was visited on the particularly marginalised of society, taking on ethnic and xenophobic connotations.

The Architecture of Identity

Theorizing Identity

A number of scholars claim that identity goes through a variety of permutations during adolescence as the individual experiments with different identity strategies (Phinney & Ong, 2007; Suarez-Orozco, 2004; Sirin & Fine, 2008; Murrell, 1999; Marcia et al., 1993; Marcia 1980; Parham 1989). Some argue that all youth move steadily from a stage of ethnic or ‘racial unawareness’ to one of ‘exploration’ to a final stage of an ‘achieved’ sense of racial or ethnic identity (Marcia, 1966; Erikson, 1968). Others point out that the process of identity formation is, rather than linear, more accurately described as ‘spiralling’ back to revisit previous stages, each time from a different vantage point (Parham, 1989). Yet, others claim that identity is ‘an internal selfconstructed, dynamic organisation of drives, abilities, beliefs, and individual history’ (Marcia, 1980:159), which facilitates psychological differentiation from others. A sense of emerging identity characterised by ‘a flexible unity’, that makes an individual less likely to rely on others views and expectations for self-definition.

Suarez-Orozco (2004:177) challenges the view held by Erikson and argues that identity formation is not simply a process, by which one passes through a variety of stages on the way to achieving a stable identity. Rather it is a process that is fluid and contextually driven. The social context is essential in predicting which identity is constructed (Suarez-Orozco, 2000). Many immigrant youth today are articulating and performing complex multiple identifications that involve bringing together disparate cultural streams. Immigrant students are constantly reinventing and rediscovering themselves through interactions in social structures, particularly peer reference groups and institutionally circumscribed roles, values, and ideologies. Among these social worlds, inconsistencies in the codes, values, roles, or expectations add to the difficulty of identity development (Suarez-Orozco, 2004). Identity is thus ‘socially constructed’. It is an interaction between an internal psychological process and an external process of categorisation and evaluation imposed by others. The social context is thus essential in predicting which identity is constructed (Suarez-Orozco, 2000).

Negotiating the Currents of a Complex Society

Negotiating the currents of identities for immigrant students can be particularly complex. The pathways they take, and the identities they form are determined in multiple ways. Resources, experiences, stresses, and trauma, as well as the coping strategies that immigrant students bring with them, play a key role. Critical to the formation of their identities is the structural and attitudinal environment, within which they find themselves (Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 2001; Taylor, 1994). Immigrant students must not only deal with aspects of personal development shared by all adolescents (relationships, work choices, examining values) but also often confront culture-related differences concerning these choices. They must also seek to create a sense of identity through personal choices surrounding relationships, occupation, worldviews, and values, which sometimes may conflict with parental and other family expectations  (Murrell, 1999; Dion, 2006).

The single greatest developmental task of adolescence is to forge a coherent sense of identity (Erickson, 1964). Erickson (1964) argued that for optimal development, there needs to be a certain amount of complementarity between the individual’s sense of self and the varied social milieus he or she must traverse. However, in an increasingly fractured, heterogeneous, transnational world, there is much less complementarity between social spaces (Suarez-Orozco, 2000). The ethos of reception plays a critical role in the adaptation of immigrant students (Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 2001). Although the structural exclusion suffered by immigrants and their children is tangibly detrimental to their ability to participate in the opportunity structure, prejudicial attitudes and psychological violence also play a toxic role (Taylor, 1994). One of the ways in which this plays out is that of the social mirror (Suarez-Orozco, 2000). When the reflected image is generally positive, the individual is able to feel that she is worthwhile and competent. When the reflection is generally negative, it is extremely difficult to maintain an unblemished sense of self-worth. The social mirror creates the fertile conditions for what Du Bois (1903/1989) termed ‘double-consciousness’ to thrive.

‘Double-consciousness’ is a complex and constant play between the exclusionary conditions of social structure marked by race and the psychological and cultural strategies employed by the racially excluded and marginalised to accommodate themselves to every indignities as well as to resist them (Essed & Goldberg, 2002).

One way of overcoming the effects of the social mirror is that of psychosocial passing. ‘Psychosocial passing’ refers to people who seek to render invisible the visible differences between themselves and a desired or chosen reference group. By behaving in ways that are consistent with other group members, they subconsciously seek to avoid having their differences noticed. Phenotypic racial features have considerable implications for the ease of assimilation. In this era of globalisation immigrants, ability to ‘pass’ or be fully assimilated unnoticed is no longer possible for most new arrivals and this can lead to undue stress (Berry, 1997; Nesdale, Rooney, & Smith, 1997; Suarez-Orozco, 2000). Identities of immigrant students manifest themselves within the context of social worlds in numerous and multiple forms, namely Achieved or an Ascribed [imposed] Identities (Suarez-Orozco, 2004; Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 2001; Suarez-Orozco, 2000; Helms, 1990; DeVos, 1980); Performing Identities (Maestes, 2000; Waters, 1886); Global Identity (Arnett, 2002); Dominating Identities (Murrell, 1999);  Ethnic Identities (Phinney & Ong, 2007); and Hyphenating and Perforating Identities (Sirin & Fine, 2008).

Furthermore the identity pathways or styles of adaptation of immigrant students differ. Suarez-Orozco and Suarez-Orozco (1995) noted that youth attempting to traverse discontinuous cultural, political, and economic spaces tended to gravitate towards one of the dominant styles of adaptation: ‘ethnic flight’, ‘adversarial’, ‘bi-cultural’, and ‘transcultural’. These styles are not fixed or mutually exclusive. ‘Ethnic flight’ is characterised by immigrant students who willingly attempt to symbolically and psychologically dissemble and gain distance from their families and ethnic groups. The ‘adversarial style’ is characterised by immigrant students who structure their identities around a process of rejection by institutions of the dominant culture. These youths respond to negative social mirroring by developing a defensively  pppositional attitude and are likely to act out behaviourally (Aronowitz, 1984; Garcia-Coll & Magnuson, 1997). The ‘bi-cultural style’ deploys what is termed ‘transnational strategies’. These children typically emerge as ‘cultural brokers’, mediating the often conflicting cultural currents of home culture and host culture (Suarez-Orozco, 1989; Suarez-Orozco & Suarez-Orozco, 1995). The ‘transcultural style’ is characterised by youth who creatively fuse aspects of two or more cultures – the parental tradition and the new cultures. In so doing, they synthesize an identity that does not require them to choose between  cultures but rather allows them to incorporate traits of different cultures while fusing additive elements (Falicov, 2002).

Theoretical Moorings

The problem of identity has been theorised through different competing paradigms. The two most relevant theoretical frameworks that have a bearing on this research study are Critical Race Theory (CRT) and  Hall’s (Grossberg, 1996) figures of identification. CRT provides a theoretical framework, through which individually and institutionally motivated racist acts can be highlighted, critiqued, and corrected (Tate, 1993; Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995; Crenshaw et al., 1995; Lynn, 1999; Tyson, 2003). It distinguishes between individual racism and institutional racism. CRT is an important construct for understanding Black immigrants who have made South Africa their home. It sheds light on the fact that Black immigrants are racialised as Black in South Africa, despite their varied self-identification on the basis of nationality, ethnicity, language, and other cultural signifiers, and are therefore subjected to the same racial prejudices and discrimination as their native Black counterparts. The concern of critical race theory is to re-narrativise the globalisation story in a way that places historically marginalised parts of the world at the centre rather than the periphery of the education and globalisation debate, and, thus, ultimately to bring about social change (Amnesty International, 2000). Scholars across disciplines have identified several dominant and unifying themes that describe the basic tenets of CRT (Velez et al., 2008; Yosso, 2006; Tyson, 2003; Lynn, 1999; Crenshaw et al., 1995; Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995; Delgado & Stefancic, 1993; Tate, 1993).

First, race is a social construct, not a biological phenomenon. It is not rooted in biology or genetics but is instead a product of social contexts and social organisations. The construct of races involves categories that society creates, revises, and retires as needed. Second, racism is endemic to life and should not be regarded as an aberration. Socially constructed racial categorisations are a fundamental organising principle of society. Individual, cultural, and institutional expressions of racism reflect the racial stratification that is part of the fabric of society. Race and racism is part of the dominant cultural ideology that manifests in multiple contexts, and are central and defining factors to consider in understanding individual and group experience. Third, racism benefits those who are privileged and serves the interests of the powerful to maintain the status quo with respect to racial stratification. Fourth, CRT represents a challenge to the dominant social ideology of colour-blindness and meritocracy. Race neutrality and the myth of equal opportunity ignore the reality of the deeply embedded racial stratification in society and the impact it has on the quality of life. Fifth, racial identity and racial identification are influenced by the racial stratification that permeates society. The perceived salience of race, the significance of racial and ethnic group membership to the self-concept, the degree to which racial and ethnic heritage and practices are embraced or rejected, and the affiliations and identifications that are made within and outside of one’s own racial and ethnic group are all influenced by the dominant cultural narrative of superiority. Sixth, assimilation and racial integration are not always in the best interests of the subordinated group. Seven, CRT considers the significance of within-group heterogeneity and the existence of simultaneous, multiple, and intersecting identities. This is often referred to as anti-essentialism or inter-sectionality. All people have overlapping identities and multiple lenses through which the world is experienced.

CRT challenges the idea that any person has a uni-dimensional identity within a single category (e.g., race or ethnicity) or that racial groups are monolithic entities. Eight, CRT argues for the centrality, legitimacy, and appropriateness of the lived experience of racial or ethnic minorities in any analysis of racial stratification. CRT has advocated for marginalised people to tell their often unheard and unacknowledged stories, and for these perspectives to be applied to the existing dominant narratives that influence the law. Ninth, CRT insists on a contextual analysis by placing race and racism in a cultural and historical context, as well as a contemporary socio-political context. And, tenth, the ultimate goals of CRT are to inform social justice efforts and the elimination of racial oppression. The figures of identification as propounded by Hall (1996) comprise Difference, Fragmentation, Hybridity, Border, and Diaspora. The figure of Difference is constituted by the logic of difference through which the subject is constructed as an ‘adversarial space’ living in ‘anxiety of contamination by its other’ (Huyssen, 1986: vii). The figure of Fragmentation emphasises the multiplicity of identities and of positions within any apparent identity (Haraway, 1991).

Identities can, therefore, be contradictory and are always situational… we are all involved in a series of political games around fractured or decentered identities… since black signifies a range of experiences, the act of representation becomes not just about decentering the subject but actually exploring the kaleidoscopic conditions of blackness (Hall, 1992:21).

The figure of Hybridity is used synonymously with the other figures. Hall (1996) uses it to describe three images of border existences of subaltern identities existing between two competing identities. Images of a ‘third space’ (Bhabha), literally of defining an ‘in-between place inhabited by the subaltern’. Images of ‘liminality’ collapse the geography of the third space into the border itself, the subaltern lives, as it were, on the border. Images of ‘bordercrossing’ mark an image of ‘between-ness’ out of which identities are produced. The Diaspora experience is defined by the recognition of a necessary heterogeneity and diversity; by a conception of ‘identity’ which lives with and through, not despite, difference; and by hybridity. Diaspora identities are those which are constantly producing and reproducing themselves anew, through transformation and difference.

Research Strategy

The research study was both exploratory and descriptive in nature. The overall school environment with particular reference to how immigrant students construct, negotiate, and represent their identity within the schooling context of South Africa was the unit of analysis. Particular emphasis was placed on the dynamics of institutional culture, and the climate of the school and the classroom. The research design was qualitative in nature, and the narrative method and case study approach was used. Three secondary schools located in the Gauteng province of South Africa provide the research sites for this study; a former white Model C school, a former Indian school, and an inner city school that had a majority of black immigrant learners. The rationale for selecting secondary school students is that these students are at the adolescent stage of their lives, where the selfcreation of one’s identity, which is often triggered by biological changes associated with puberty, the maturation of cognitive abilities and changing societal expectations, and the process of simultaneous reflection and observation is commonly experienced (Tatum, 1999). Criteria used in the selection of students were based on racial background and gender.

The data-gathering techniques that were used in this study included a mix of semi-structured interviews, observations, and field notes. Semi-structured interviews were conducted with a purposive sample of immigrant students to determine how their identities are constituted, negotiated, and represented in schools. The researcher selected approximately fifteen [black] immigrant students (Lesotho, Kenya, Nigeria, Malawi, Congo, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka) across Grades 8 to10 at each school. The selection of immigrant students depended on the mixture that was found at each of the identified schools. An attempt was made to include both Anglophone and Francophone immigrant students in this study. A total of 45 students were interviewed. These interviews were conducted in 2008 over a period of six months. Questions comprised five to six broad categories and were openended.

The duration of interviews ranged between 1½ to 2 hours. All interviews were recorded and transcribed. Semi-structured interviews were conducted with the principal, the School Management Team, the School Governing Body, selected teachers of these Grades (8 -10), and parents of immigrant children at each of the three research sites to explore the phenomenon of immigrant student identities. Observations were conducted to coincide with the interview period. Researchers observed immigrant students over a period of six weeks at each school with a focus on their experiences of school life, and how it plays out on the classroom floor and on the school grounds. Observations of classroom practice, activities, and associations during the break sessions, assemblies, and other activities of the school, including after school activities, were captured. It must, however, be noted that there are advantages and limitations of observations at a small number of schools. The advantages of such a technique is that it provides a lens into the ‘lived experiences’ of classroom life over a period of time that allows for in-depth study and creates the opportunity for patterns (if any) to emerge. The limitation is that the small number of schools observations could be seen as instructive and illustrative, and not as representative of all schools.

In order to get a better feel of the schooling and learning environment, various field notes were written, based on informal observations of these schools (ethos, culture, and practices of the school). Informal conversations were conducted with some teachers. Attention was also given to the physical appearance of the school, which included observations of artefacts such as paintings, décor, photographs, portraits, and school magazines to provide a sense of the institutional culture of the school. Do immigrant students feel a sense of belonging and being at home at the school? Particular emphasis was on the experiences of immigrant students, and how they constructed, negotiated, and represented their identities within these schooling contexts, and how these contexts influenced their identity formation.

Data was analysed utilising qualitative content analysis (Mayring, 2000; Sandelowski, 2000). Codes were generated from the data and continuously modified by the researcher’s treatment of the data ‘to accommodate new data and new insights about those data’ (Sandelowski, 2000:338). This was a reflexive and an interactive process that yielded extensive codes and themes. The extensive codes were further analyzed to identify data related to key concepts in the research question, theoretical frameworks, and literature review (Miles & Huberman, 1994). Multiple readings of the data were conducted, organizing codes and themes into higher levels of categories within and across the interviews, observations, and other sources of data (Merriam, 1998).

Findings

Major findings that contrasted with what was found in the voluminous literature in this field were multifold in nature. First, although immigrant students’ ease of assimilation into the chosen reference group was to some degree sanctioned by their phenotypic racial features, their attempt at ‘psychosocial passing’ (Robinson, 1999) was politically motivated. They claimed that because of the political status of the host country, it was in their interest to ‘pass’ as local blacks, but they wanted to do this in terms of appearance only and nothing else. For many immigrant students, the behaviour and code of conduct of their local black peers in the host country represented a site of contamination and shame. The concept of ‘passing’ within the black community in the western world traditionally referred to blacks who pass for white because of their light skin colour (Wu, 2002). However, in the South African context this concept refers to black immigrant students who ‘pass’ for local black students because of similar phenotypic racialised features.

I can honestly say, I have not once noticed that the girls treat them any differently to a South African Zulu girl or a South African Xhosa girl or a South African Sotho girl, they look the same. It is really difficult to tell them apart physically (Ms Wilson, Grade 10 teacher).

They don’t really react badly because they say I look mostly like a South African, like a Venda. I don’t look like a foreigner. I mean I look like a Venda. So when I tell them I am from another country they actually get surprised (Effi, Zambia).

I fit in well, like the other South African Indians in this school. I speak English well, I don’t really have an ‘Indian’ accent so I am like one of them (Jeet, Pakistan).

Well they didn’t really see me as an immigrant; I was just like one of them. So I just let them go on believing that I am one of them. I don’t let them know that I am really an immigrant (Vena, Zimbabwean).

The ability to join the mainstream unnoticed is more challenging when one is racially marked. However, in the South African context the most discernible marker among black immigrant students was not one of race, but that of language and accent. In the case of black [African] immigrant students it was their lack of proficiency in indigenous languages that signalled their ‘foreignness’. Whereas with black [Indian] immigrant students, it was their lack of proficiency in English that made them conspicuous as foreigners. In both cases ‘accent’ in the use of the English language was the critical signifier of the ‘Other’. A secondary instantaneous indicator was that of ‘shades of blackness’. Indigenous black students could immediately recognise black [African] immigrant students by the ‘blackness of their skin pigmentation’. Wu (2002) argues that immigrants ability to ‘pass’ or be fully assimilated unnoticed is no longer possible for most new arrivals in this era of globalisation. Kevin who could physically identify with the local black students because of a similar ‘shade of blackness’, tried to desperately ‘pass’ as one of them by addressing his shortcoming in terms of learning an indigenous language.

He claims: I do not want to be identified by my culture. I look like South African black people. I have made an effort to learn Sepedi to try to fit in and to communicate with the local blacks so that they do not say I am a makwerekwere.

Immigrant students chose varied ways to present and orientate themselves in relation to others in the host country. What is important to note is that although the phenotypic features of many immigrant students allowed them to ‘pass’ for one of the local blacks, all immigrant students were resolute in maintaining their sense of moral integrity. Second, immigrant students did not readily classify themselves according to skin pigmentocracy. They initially identified themselves in terms of personality traits and subsequently in terms of ethnicity linked to culture, traditions, language, and country of origin. The label of ‘Black’ was something that was ascribed to them on entry into the host country and something that they learnt to incorporate as part of their identity, given that they shared similar phenotype features as indigenous black students, as evident from this vignette.

Interviewer: Would you class yourself according to colour?

Immigrant: Yes.

Interviewer: Who would you say you are?

Immigrant: I’m black; I’m African.

Interviewer: Why do you say you are an African?

Immigrant: Because I originate from Africa.

Interviewer: And why do you call yourself black?

Immigrant: Because that’s how we’re classified by the South African government.

Interviewer: And are you happy with that?

Immigrant: Not really, because I’ve heard so many people complain about being called black because our skin colour is naturally black.

Interviewer: So you won’t classify yourself as black in Zambia?

Immigrant: Me, no, no, no definitely not! I was not identified as ‘black’ in Zambia, but here I am told that I am ‘black’ because I look more like the local black Africans than like the Indians and whites.

Interviewer: In Zambia, how would you classify yourself?

Immigrant: As African.

Interviewer: Just African?

Immigrant: Yes. It is only when I came to South Africa that I realized that I’ve got another label, now I am a black African.

Interviewer: How does this make you feel?

Immigrant: I feel bad because I am not ‘black’ I am ‘African’… because I come from Africa. ‘I am not happy about being called black. I prefer being called African’. Also, my culture is totally different from theirs [black South Africans] and in my culture we are taught to respect and behave well. We also dress differently. There are so many differences with them, so how can people see me like one of them? I am just an African student in South Africa from Zambia… all these other labels; black and all that doesn’t get into my identity.

And another student’s response:

In Burundi we just say our culture and language, but when I came to South Africa I learnt that I am now ‘black’ (Andrew).

I am Zimbabwean and I’m black and I speak Kalanga…I say I am ‘black’ because when I came to South Africa I was told by the learners, teachers and the principal that I am black and I could also see that I look like the ‘black South Africans’. No, in Zimbabwe I was not ‘black’. I was just from the Kalanga tribe (Vena).

Third, the majority of immigrant students heightened their ethnic self-awareness in forming their identity, but also assumed hyphenated identities, as much as the hyphen was heavily skewed in favour of the  country of origin. Immigrant students negotiated the balance and contours of the hyphen as they navigated their way through the social contexts of the host country:

I am Rwandan, but I am living now for 12 years in South Africa, so I’d say I am Rwandan but also becoming South African. I am a Rwandan-South African. [Sighs] I don’t… I wouldn’t say I’m a foreigner, no. I am a Congolese-South African, yes. I’m… who I am is two different cultures that play a huge, huge, impact on me and sadly I’m going say it’s more South African than Congolese people that have made me who I am. But because culture means a lot to me, I have to say I am Congolese-South African (Vanessa, DRC).

Fourth, immigrant students were not seen as having an identity, but rather as being ‘cast into a category with associated characteristics or features’. In terms of ‘Othering’ they were ascribed the group categorisation of ‘makwerekwere’. A further sub-categorisation process occurred within this group category and was based on ‘Shades of Blackness’, which further negatively influenced many immigrant students’ formation of social identities and their sense of belonging to groups. Students who come from Congo, Zambia, Somalia, and Malawi are naturally darker skinned than indigenous African learners. According to one of the principals:

They say this is a terrible thing which is part of our country, how dark the person is, because now South African students identify and discriminate against black immigrant students on the basis of darkness of skin colour because they say that person’s too dark to be South African. This places the immigrant child under much stress and the child feels isolated.

Some immigrant student responses in this regard:

They use my surname Dakkar to mock at me and they say I am dark. I am a makwerekwere and I must go back to Zambia. They say you are black, like you are black more than other learners; you must be Congolese or maybe you from Somalia? There was this one time we were arguing with some other people. So they were dissing me [slang: insult someone] and so I also dissed them and they say I’m dark. I must go back to Malawi and stuff.

Fifth, in order to counteract the social representation of being a foreigner, and to seek a sense of inclusion, many black [African] immigrant students forged a ‘continental identity’ to create a sense of solidarity with local black students. Thus, their identities became subjected to a process of evolution and modification within the new social context. There seemed to be an increasing emphasis on an ‘African’ identity:

In Zimbabwe, I was a Zimbabwean, but now they say Unapa is a makwerekwere. That’s not who I am. I am an African from Zimbabwe. I’m a Congolese girl from the DRC. They say I am a foreigner; a makwerekwere and they push me and say ‘Go back to your country’. I don’t see myself as a foreigner. I am an African from Africa (Jeanette, DRC).

Andrew was resolute in his thinking and preferred to present himself in relation to others in terms of a continental perspective. Since the context within which he now found himself forced him to be classified according to colour, he vehemently denied being ‘black’, instead he argued:

I do not classify myself as ‘black’ according to South African racial categories. I am ‘coffee brown’. I am an African since like them [South Africans] I too am from the continent of Africa. How can they [South Africans] call me a makwerekwere? (Andrew, Ghana).

And sixth, immigrant student self-agency was twofold in nature. They not only wanted to improve their own condition, as much of the literature in the field reports, but there seemed to be an inherent drive to improve the human condition of others. There was genuine concern and a form of empathy. They wanted to assist indigenous black students in the spirit of ‘brotherhood’ [we are the same we are all ‘Africans’] to improve the moral, academic, and social fibre of South African society.

I see a kind of deficiency in the attitude of learners. For me, this is something that I can use to build the school into a better school and make the learners see that what they are doing is wrong. The South African government is giving the youth too many rights. I mean like already at the age of 12 you can have an abortion. That is just wrong in the Bible and it is wrong as a person (Chanda, Zambia). I can’t say we really different, we look more or less the same except I am slightly lighter in colour then them but where we are different is in the attitude. The only difference is attitude. I’ll change them. I will want them to understand what education is really about and how to treat elders. They must really get to understand that (Kevin, Zimbabwe).

The black people the way they treat people. I don’t think we treat people the same way. I’d like to teach them about respect and how to treat people well (Athailiah, Mozambique).

Analysis and Discussion of Findings

The influence of race and the effects of racism on black immigrant students were glaringly visible in this research study. Black immigrants were racialized as Black and were, therefore, subjected to the same racial prejudices and discrimination as their indigenous black counterparts. The homogeneous categorization of Blacks ignores the important national, ethnic, linguistic, cultural, political, and even racial differences that exist within the population. In particular, homogenous descriptions ignore the fact that for many Black immigrant youth, racial and ethnic identities are fluid and complex; thus many do not strictly identify with the rigid and dichotomous Black/White constructs, through which racial and ethnic identities are based in South Africa. However, within the stream of ‘Blackness’ prejudices against particular nationalities and ethnicities were clearly evident. Indigenous Black students demonstrated little incentive to eliminate racism. From a CRT analysis, this feature is known as ‘interest convergence’ or material determinism (Crenshaw et al., 1995; Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995). Efforts to eliminate racism occur only when the change will benefit the privileged group in some way. Both Black and Indian students did not perceive any benefit from the Black immigrant students, but viewed them as a threat. This tenet encourages an exploration of the role of societal need and power interests in a way that specific qualities are associated with particular racial groups.

In addition, many Black immigrant students experienced challenges in forming their identity in their very different home and school environments. They experienced difficulty in reconciling the expectations placed upon them by their traditional culture and those that hailed from South Africa, or the Eurocentric culture generally found in South African school settings. They thus took on hybrid and hyphenated identities as a measure of reconciling these disparate cultural streams. However, the hyphen assumed a skewed formation, as many black immigrant students leaned heavily on their ethnic identities that provided the foundation of their cultural and moral mores. This seemed to comply with Hall’s figure of Difference where the black immigrant student was constructed as an ‘adversarial space’ living in ‘anxiety of contamination by its other’ (Huyssen, 1986: vii). The multiplicity of identities and of positions within any apparent identity as characteristic of Hall’s figure of fragmentation was evident in the manner in which immigrant student identities manifested themselves. Black immigrant students were ascribed identities, namely ‘makwerekwere’, ‘black’, and were further cast into categories according to ‘Shades of Blackness’. Furthermore, they were ascribed identities according to the country of origin, namely Nigerians were categorised as thieves, womanisers, drug lords, and people who were unhygienic. Zimbabweans were ostracised because of the perception that they came from a poverty-stricken country that lacked resources and a country that would seem to be ‘uncivilised’ and ‘backward’. Dominating identities of immigrant students were very much in the form of an ethnic identity.

While at the same time there was overwhelming evidence of hyphenating and perforating identities. There was also a very strong association with a ‘Continental identity’. The emphasis on a ‘Continental identity’ by Black immigrant students was one way of counteracting the social representation of being a foreigner, and seeking a sense of belonging. Images of a ‘third space’ (Bhabha, 1990), literally of defining an ‘inbetween place inhabited by immigrant students’. And, images of ‘bordercrossing’, that mark an image of ‘between-ness’ out of which identities are produced, seemed to be the favoured options. The identity pathways of immigrant students leaned more towards the bicultural and transcultural styles of adaptation. None of the black immigrant students chose to willingly attempt to symbolically and psychologically dissemble and gain distance from their families and ethnic groups, nor did they opt for an adversarial style that centred on rejecting institutions of the dominant culture. They, however, rejected norms and values of South African culture; they just did not actively act out against it. In contrast, there seemed to be genuine empathy and a collective sense of ‘brotherhood’ with indigenous students, as evident from the manner in which their self-agency unfolded. Hence, the Diaspora experience was very much evident in the way immigrant students recognised the necessary heterogeneity and diversity; by a conception of ‘identity’ which lives with and through, not despite, difference; and by hybridity. Through this Diaspora experience, immigrant students constantly produced and reproduced themselves anew, through transformation and difference by subjecting their identities to a process of evolution and modification within the new social context, as evident from their increasing emphasis on an ‘African’ identity.

Conclusion

Reactions of indigenous students to Black immigrant students reflect the racial stratification that is part of the fabric of South Africa. In a CRT analysis, this endorses the tenet that races are categories society creates and that individual, cultural, and institutional expressions of racism are part of the dominant cultural ideology that manifests in multiple contexts. Current manifestations of racial stratification occur within a broader historical landscape that has shaped the present forms and expressions of racism. This research study uncovered both similarities and differences with what was found in the literature review. The similarities are that immigrant students in the South African context also have to contend with discrimination and harassment, but this is largely in terms of intra-black dynamics, while they struggle with issues of language, curriculum, and instructional strategies that do not address their cultural or linguistic background, and they feel a sense of alienation rather than one of belonging. These findings are in significant contrast with the literature in terms of the aspects of psychosocial passing, agency, identity, and language as a tool of exclusion. Black immigrant students have different stories to tell regarding the way race affects their life experiences. These stories have not had as significant an influence on policies, practices, and opinions as have the dominant cultural narratives about race. Black immigrant students have unique perspectives on racial matters and their voices speak of experiences involving marginalisation, devaluation, and stigmatisation. It becomes clear from these narratives that ‘South Africanness’ is not just a question of citizenship in official documentation. It is also about contests over the more concrete (and often mundane) daily requirements of life, and the territoriality and space that accompany them. It becomes imperative to not only acknowledge and recognise the heterogeneous constitution of black groups in South Africa but to incorporate the linguistic and cultural capital of these differing groups into the very fabric of schooling so as to ensure that all students feel a sense of belonging and feeling at home. It is only in this way that all students can truly become ‘cosmopolitan citizens’ of the world, guided by common human values. Research from the CRT framework should contribute to efforts to facilitate the empowerment of marginalised and disenfranchised groups, and to inform strategies for eliminating racism and other forms of oppression.

¹ This chapter stems from a broader SANPAD-funded project on Immigrant student identities in South African schools. Parts of this chapter have already been published in Education Inquiry. Vol. 1 (4):347–365 and the Journal of Educational Development.

² Identities – In this chapter the ‘multiple’ and ‘fluid’ identities that are addressed are those of race, ethnicity, nationality, language, and related identifi cations; not class and gender.

³ Gauteng – One of the nine provinces of South Africa.

⁴ Makwerekwere – people who were identified as not properly belonging to the South African nation. Makwerekwere is the derogatory term used by Black South Africans to describe non-South African blacks. It refers to Black immigrants from the rest of Africa.

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About the Authors:

Saloshna Vandeyar is an NRF C rated scientist and the recent award-winning scholar on intercultural education from the prestigious international BMW Awards in the category: theory. Her work has also received national recognition as evident from the other awards she has received, namely, Winner in the National Science and Technology Forum Award 2007 in the Category H: NRF Sponsored T W Kambule Award: Senior Black Researcher over the last 5 to 10 years; finalist in the category Education of the Shoprite Checkers/ SABC 2 Woman of the Year 2006; Exceptional Young Researcher’s award from the University of Pretoria; Gold medal for Research, Excellence and Achievement, University of Pretoria, and two Community awards for Excellence in Education and Research (2007/2009). She was also nominated for the social justice award (American Education Research Association) in 2009. She has authored and co-authored several books, journal articles and chapters in books. Her scholarly book, Diversity High: Class, Color, Culture and Characterin a South African school was nominated for the outstanding book award (AERA) in 2009 and her paper that was published in an international journal was nominated for the Joyce Cain award (2009). Her specialist areas and the foci of her research encompass Race, Identities, Social/cultural Justice, Diversity Education, Teacher Professionalism as well as Assessment Practices. She serves on the editorial boards of the International Journal of Early Child Care and Development; International Journal of Learning for Democracy; Perspectives in Education (2004-2006). She is particularly interested in the implications of teacher and student identities in constructing classrooms inclusive of racial, linguistic and ethnic identities and in promoting Intercultural and Peace Education.

Thirusellvan Vandeyar (Thiru) is a lecturer in the department of Science,Mathematics and Technology Education at the University of Pretoria, South Africa. He commenced his career as an educator in 1981. His teaching experience includes being a head of department for mathematics, deputy principal, principal and a lecturer at a teacher training college. During his extensive teaching career, he obtained a BA degree and a Diploma in Datamatrixs. He currently holds a Masters and Phd degree in Computer Integrated Education. His main research interests include e-learning; ICT and teacher professionalism.

This essay has been published as Chapter One in:

Saloshna Vandeyar (Ed.) Hyphenated Selves – Immigrant Identities within Education Contexts – 2011

Rozenberg Edition: ISBN: 978 90 361 0247 6

Unisa Press Edition: ISBN: 978 1 868 8 679 1

 

 

 

 

One isn’t enough, but both is too much; these words by a female blue-collar worker express the current dilemma of many employees in combining work and care.  In all modern societies couples face an increasing need to arrange the combination of work and care in a new way.
The traditional household model with a male breadwinner who is responsible for paid work, career and income, and his wife, who takes care of all household obligations, is losing its relevance, and fits the values and preferences of the majority of couples less and less well. Over the past decades women have increasingly entered the labour market and the number of two-earner couples has been growing. Gender differences in educational achievements and earning capacities have decreased. The values and preferences of couples put great weight on an egalitarian relationship and equal engagement of both partners in work and care.
Besides the traditional male breadwinner model, a wide variety of different earning models and household constellations has emerged. In some countries, like the Netherlands or Germany, the majority of couples are two-earner couples.

Current research provides evidence that a considerable number of these couples are not able to achieve the work-life balance desired. Several studies report an increase in hours of paid work and a high overall work load in the household (Breedveld et al., 2006; TNO Arbeid, 2003), persistent gender differences in the division of paid and unpaid work (Van der Broek & Breedveld, 2004; Plantenga, Schippers, & Siegers 1999), a widespread mismatch between actual and desired hours of paid work (SCP, 2000; Reynolds & Aletraris, 2006; Fagan, Tracey, & McAllister, 2005), and a high level of perceived time pressure (Garhammer, 2007; Breedveld, 2001). This also holds true for the Netherlands, a country that is known for its part-time culture and far-reaching legal working-time options. The majority of Dutch couples are not satisfied with the distribution of paid and unpaid work: Couples who practice a more equal division of paid work in the household face cumulative work loads, loss of free time and high time pressure, even more so when care and job demands are high. Couples in more traditional arrangements report a desire for a more equal distribution of paid work in the household.

1.1  The disregarded role of governance strategies in the household
One would expect households to develop structural and organizational arrangements to cope with these challenges. However, the role and impact of such arrangements have not yet received much attention in existing accounts dealing with household time allocation. The standard microeconomic model of labour supply ignores the organization of the household. It treats leisure as a consumer good and assumes that spouses will somehow choose their working hours according to given preferences and wage rates (see, e.g., Cahuc & Zylberberg, 2004). Sociological household research stresses that these choices are not made in a social vacuum, and emphasizes the impact of gender norms and role expectations that commit women to a higher extent than men to care and household duties (Bittman et al., 2003; Van der Lippe & Siegers, 1994). Organizational research is mainly concerned with the influence that work arrangements have on time use and work-family life. It has discovered several features of organizations that induce employees to work long hours and sacrifice family time (see Van Echtelt, 2007; Anger, 2006; Campbell, 2002, 2004). However, to the best of our knowledge, how households can organize themselves to deal with these pressures has not received proper attention. Apart from popular self-help books about time management and household efficiency, there is still a gap in the scientific work-family literature concerning the influence that varying regulation practices have on the household and their interplay with workplace arrangements. It is the main goal of this book to fill this gap.

A number of recent household studies provide a starting point for our quest. These studies provide evidence that couples apply very different solutions in order to cope with competing claims on work and family life. A Dutch study discovered that spouses had different “allocation rules” governing the division of work in the household and influencing their perception of a fair division of tasks in the household (Van der Vinne, 1998). Two German studies distinguished characteristic types of “family-life conduct” (Jürgens, 2001) or basic “family arrangements” (Klenner & Pfahl, 2005). Within relatively homogenous work and household settings, they found considerable differences with regard to gender roles, equality concepts, and the way spouses used time routines, planning, help from third parties (outsourcing) or how they referred to time negotiation and conflict-handling strategies (see Kluwer, 1998). Similarly, an Australian study stressed different “interaction orders” of households for combining work and household demands (Gill, 1998; see also Eberling et al., 2004). In contrast to traditional arrangements in so-called “rigid households,” flexible time arrangements in so-called “trade-off households” are characterized by flexible ends, role sharing, lowered standards and equal sharing of household responsibilities. The study concluded that “trade-off households” were better off when it came to coping with competing work and household demands. Finally, a US study emphasized the role of the partner in the household’s time use by using the term “boundary control” (Perlow, 1998). The study distinguished between “resister spouses,” on the one hand, and “acceptor spouses,” on the other, and showed that the male employees in the same company spent fewer hours on paid work when they were married to a “resister spouse.”
Summing up, there is quite a sizable amount of evidence that couples differ considerably in the way they regulate or “govern” the combination of work and care in the household, and that these differences are likely to influence household time allocation. We want to approach these differences and explore their role in household time allocation using the concept of “household governance.”

1.2  The concept of “household governance”
The term “household governance” has not been chosen coincidentally. It refers directly to transaction cost theory (Williamson, 1975), which occupies a prominent place in organizational theory. Originally, this theory was introduced to explain the make-or-buy decisions of organizations. Modern households also face make-or-buy decisions, for instance, with regard to outsourcing of care and household tasks. Yet, the underlying idea of the concept of household governance is a more fundamental one: It acknowledges the fact that couples face risks in exchange relationships, and aim to reduce risks and costs by means of efficient forms of governance. The idea of a unit preference structure does not fit the reality of the private household (Beblo, 2001). Since the household consists of two individuals with particular interests and goals (e.g., with regard to career, income, care or family), cooperation and coordination problems arise. The couple needs to reduce the risk of interpersonal conflict and opportunistic behaviour in order to initiate successful household production. In the view of transaction cost theory, these risks can be minimized by means of a shared, institutionalized arrangement (or structure) on the part of both partners that “governs” the division of tasks in the household and defines the expected contributions of each partner. We have termed this institutional arrangement “household governance.” At this point in time, the importance of governance structures in work organizations has been recognized by organizational research (see Williamson, 1975); however, despite some rather sporadic attempts to apply the idea to the household sphere (see Pollack, 1985), the governance practices of couples have not yet become a focus of the existing accounts of household time allocation.

1.3  The main elements of household governance
Building on findings from recent household studies (Klenner & Pfahl, 2005; De Ruijter, 2005; Eberling et al., 2004; Moen & Sweet, 2003; Jürgens, 2001; Gill, 1998; Perlow, 1998, Kluwer, 1998), we can identify three layers of household governance.

(1) The earner model

By choosing the earner model, the couple determines the fundamental division of paid work in the household. Spouses can either establish a model of equal engagement in paid work (dual-earner household) or practice a partly (one-and-a-half earner model) or fully specialized model (breadwinner household).

(2) Outsourcing of care and household tasks

By means of make-or-buy decisions spouses determine to what extent they will allocate certain household chores to third parties (e.g., cleaning or childcare) and to what extent they will keep these tasks within the household. By outsourcing care and household tasks, spouses can reduce the total workload of the household and gain more time for other activities like paid work, leisure or relaxation.

(3) Household rules and quality standards

By the term “household rules” we refer to the informal agreements of the spouses that govern time use in the household on a day-to-day base. In order to guarantee that there is sufficient time for unpaid work and joint activities, spouses can make agreements concerning the time investment and coordination of household activities required on a day-to-day basis. In this respect household rules are rather input oriented. By using household rules spouses increase the degree of regulation and institutionalization of the household’s time use. Such rules may define the required time input of spouses (time claims), distribute the responsibilities or fixed tasks in the household (division of tasks), or set times for the performance of household activities (time routines). Quality standards for household tasks define the expected quality of household chores. In this respect they are output oriented. The higher these standards, the more time and effort are required to achieve them.
In addition to the three layers of household governance outlined, we have included a fourth related element of household governance in our analysis: conflict handling of couples in situations of interpersonal work-household conflict. We do not regard this element as a part of the household’s governance structure. Yet, it is of importance in situations where work-household conflict is not prevented by the household’s governance structure (layer 1-3). It is evident that even the best rules and agreements are not able to prevent all kinds of conflict of interest between spouses. In such cases, which strategies are used by the partners to solve the conflict are important. In our opinion, two characteristic conflict-handling strategies can be distinguished: “agentic” and “communal” strategies (Eagly, 1987). Communal strategies are defined as primarily describing a concern with the welfare of other people, whereas agentic strategies are described by behaviour showing a low concern with the welfare of other people (Eagly & Karau, 2002: 574). It is likely that (differences in) these strategies will influence the choices of couples with regard to the division of work in the household. In this respect they form an important supplement to the institutionalized regulation by household governance structures.

1.4 How we investigate the role of household governance
My book Household Governance and Time Allocation is guided by four separate studies that address the different layers of household governance and investigate their role in household time allocation. Leading it are the following research questions:

(1) How do couples “govern” the combination of work and care in the household? This study will explore how couples cope with high care and job demands by using household rules and strategies to handle interpersonal work-household conflicts. As such, it is oriented towards the two lowest levels of the structure we presented above.
(2) How do differences in household governance influence the labour supply of employees? This study will focus on the third layer of household governance. It will investigate how the labour supply of male and female employees changes with the presence of household rules and higher quality standards at home.
(3) How do differences in household governance influence the work-life balance of couples? This study will focus on all three layers of household governance. It will explore in which way the choice of the earner model, the outsourcing of care and household tasks, and the use of household rules and quality standards all contribute to the realization of a desired time allocation within the household.
(4) How do differences in handling interpersonal work-household conflicts influence the labour supply of employees? This study will focus on the conflict-handling strategies of couples. The study will investigate from a gender perspective how different conflict-handling strategies of couples account for differences in the labour supply of male and female employees.

Overview of the four studies:
To investigate the role of household governance in the time allocation patterns of employees, we designed and carried out parts of the Time Competition Survey (Van der Lippe & Glebbeek, 2003; Glebbeek & Van der Lippe, 2004; Van der Lippe & Peters, 2007). The data were collected by means of a multi-stage sample of 1,114 Dutch employees within 89 function groups in 30 organizations in the Netherlands. Our analyses were based on a sub-sample of 542 cohabiting employees (304 male and 238 female employees) from 79 different occupational groups in 30 companies. (See Chapter 2 for a detailed overview of the research design). The following section offers a short summary of the four studies collected in this book. It discusses how the studies try to contribute to filling in the gaps in the existing literature and reports on the main findings of each chapter.

1.5  Overview on the four studies on household governance and main findings
1.5.1 How couples “govern” the combination of work and care in the household
Due to the growing number of two-earner households and the high work demands of organizations, households face an increasing challenge in coping with competing job and household time claims. Our study will raise the question of how couples govern the combination of work and care through informal agreements and conflict-handling strategies. We hypothesize that couples will increase the degree of regulation of task distribution in the household when high care demands (due to young children or others in the household needing care) or high employer demands make cooperation and coordination problems more costly for the couple. This hypothesis has only partly been confirmed. Results based on the Time Competition Survey have confirmed, on the one hand, the importance of household governance in the combination of work and care. A broad variety of informal agreements and conflict-handling strategies are applied, which govern the division of tasks in the household as well as the time investment, timing and quality of domestic activities. On the other hand, we found evidence that this variation exists to a large extent independently from job and household characteristics, underlining the individual character of differences in household governance: Couples apply individual solutions of household governance depending on their preferences, and the given work and family context. High employer demands were to a large extent accepted by the couples in our sample. In situations of work-household conflict only a few spouses resisted the desire of their employed partners to work long hours. The high importance of the work sphere for variations in household governance was also indicated by the following finding: High unpredictability of work schedules and low working time autonomy of employees limit the room for household governance. This makes it more difficult for couples to regulate the combination of work and care by means of informal rules and agreements.

1.5.2  How differences in household governance influence the labour supply of employees
Given the high average level of time demands made by work organizations, and the growing number of hours of paid work and overtime, the question arises as to whether variations in household governance make a difference in terms of whether employees conform to or resist high work demands. Our study addresses the following research questions: How do household rules and quality standards for household tasks influence the labour supply of male and female employees? Are they able to weaken the impact of high employer demands? We hypothesize (1) that a higher degree of regulation within the household by means of household rules and informal agreements concerning the division of tasks will diminish the influence of work incentives and time demands made by the work organization. For (2) the impact of quality standards, we expect a gender specific pattern: Since women still face the majority of care and household responsibilities, high quality standards for household tasks will increase their time investment in unpaid work and reduce their time investment in paid work. In contrast, the amount of working hours of male employees will not (or only to a minor extent) change with high quality standards in the household.
Results based on the Time Competition Survey do not confirm the first hypothesis. Whether or not couples regulate the division of tasks in the household through rules and informal agreements does not cause a significant difference in terms of their labour supply. Our explanation for this finding lies in the twofold nature of household rules, which leads to opposite effects: household rules can either “facilitate” or “restrict” long working hours for employees. By defining fixed moments and time routines for household activities, these rules make it easier for employees to adjust and organize their long working hours in line with the household’s time requests. By setting boundaries for paid work and defining the time investment required for household chores, they can make it more difficult for employees to work long hours. Our second hypothesis concerning the relationship between quality standards in the household and the labour supply of female employees is confirmed by our data: Women spend fewer hours on paid work when quality standards for household tasks are higher. The study concludes that differences in household governance play a mediating role in the labour supply of employees. Yet, the time demands of work organizations, the earning capacities of the spouses and the presence of young children account for most of the variation in the labour supply of male and female employees.

1.5.3  How differences in household governance influence the work-life balance of couples
Various studies have reported a widespread desire among employees to spend fewer hours on paid work. Some of these studies point out that high employer demands are an important determinant of long working hours. Our study addresses the question of how the achievement of a desired time allocation is additionally influenced (that is supported or restricted) by different types of household governance. Following the existing literature in the field, we have distinguished between flexible and regulative regimes of household governance. In our view, a flexible regime of household governance leaves more room for high work demands. It is characterized by flexible role patterns (first layer of household governance), outsourcing of care and household tasks (second layer of household governance), and the absence of fixed household rules or high quality standards (third layer of household governance). We hypothesize that none of the two regimes is a priori superior: Couples will choose flexible or regulative regimes of household governance according to their work and family preferences, and the given job and household context. When long working hours are a key to desired goals (such as a higher income, more status or better career chances), couples will be better off choosing more flexible regimes of household governance. When long working hours are seen as a threat to desired goals (such as family life, care or activities outside work), couples will be better off choosing more regulative regimes of household governance.
Results based on the Time Competition Survey confirm this hypothesis for the most part. There is no evidence for a superior type of household governance regime that would enable couples to come closer to the desired amount of working hours. In contrast, the mismatch between actual and desired working hours is to a large extent caused by high employer demands and high earning capacities in the household. Yet, differences in household governance influence the mismatch between actual and desired working hours in two ways: (1) Dual earners (both spouses work full time) report the biggest gap between actual and desired working hours, indicating a failure to adopt the appropriate earner model. This may point towards a coordination problem. The choice for a breadwinner or one-half earner model may be very attractive for the household as a whole, but the difficult question of which of the two partners is to cut back their hours then poses itself. The difficulty in calculating the future costs, benefits and risks is accentuated by the potential threat of opportunism in the relationship (a transaction cost problem). (2) Spouses with young children (12 years or younger) are not able to prevent loss of free time or severe time pressure, even when they make use of childcare facilities or informal help. This finding points to a lack of sufficient supply of childcare facilities (limited access to childcare facilities), financial restrictions (limited resources to pay for childcare or to reduce working hours), or employer restrictions (institutional barriers to the reduction of working hours).

1.5.4 How conflict-handling patterns of couples influence the labour supply of employees
Given the fact that women still spend on average fewer hours on paid work than men do (despite similar educational achievements), the question arises as to how the amount of working hours is influenced by differences in the conflict-handling strategies of couples. The study will address the following research question: How do differences in the handling of interpersonal work-household conflict influence the labour supply of male and female employees? In line with asymmetric conflict theory (Kluwer, 1998), we assume that due to the asymmetric structure of the traditional division of work in the household, female employees who want to work more hours will need to challenge the status quo. Building on role-congruity theory (Eagly, 1987), we can distinguish between two types of conflict management behaviour in the household: “Agentic” strategies are characterized by low concern for the other conflict party and are usually ascribed to a male gender role; and “communal” strategies are characterized by a high concern for the other conflict party and are usually ascribed to a female gender role. Following this theory, we can assume that traditional role expectations will still guide the conflict-handling behaviour of male and female employees and affect its outcomes. We hypothesize then (1) that working women relying on “communal” strategies to resolve time-allocation conflicts with their male partners will be more successful in achieving their objective of working more hours, and (2) that labour supply of working men increases with their use of “agentic” strategies.
Results on the basis of the Time Competition Survey confirm both hypotheses. Strategies that are congruent with the gender role of the employed person using them are clearly more likely to be successful than strategies that are incongruent with gender expectations. These findings confirm at the same time the expectation of asymmetric conflict theory (Kluwer, 1998): Female employees are more likely to succeed in changing the traditional division of paid work when they use “communal” conflict strategies that trigger the cooperativeness of their male spouse. Male employees, in contrast, can successfully reinforce the status quo by using “agentic” conflict strategies.

1.6 Discussion: Is the concept of “household governance” a useful contribution?

“One isn’t enough, but both is too much”. This statement at the beginning of our study expresses the feeling of many employees with regard to the combination of work and care. Now, at the end of our study, comes the time to recapitulate what the “household governances” approach has contributed to our understanding of current problems in combining work and care. We can draw the following conclusions.
(1) Couples need household governance structures. We found evidence that conflicts concerning the division of work and allocation of time are a reality in many households. Modern couples have to cope with a fundamental transaction problem with regard to the combination of work and care. When the needs of the household require a reduction in the total time engaged in paid work, the question arises as to which of the spouses is willing to spend fewer hours on the job, and to give up the individual benefits and protection that are related to paid work and career. A reduction would be beneficial to the household as a whole. But from an individual point of view such an investment is risky, since it is related to unforeseeable negative consequences in the long run. This holds particularly true when we take into account that the future of the relationship cannot be taken for granted. So, the coordination problems of running a common household on a day-to-day basis are complicated by the future interests and uncertainties of each of the partners. In addition to the negotiation strategies we discovered, couples adopt structural devices to contain this conflict. These diminish the need for struggling and bargaining on a day-to-day basis.
(2) Household governance structures are not uniform. Our research showed interesting differences in the solutions which households apply. In all three layers of household governance we found considerable empirical variations, ranging from the earner model, in terms of the outsourcing of care and household tasks, to the use of household rules. Some couples use more regulative regimes of household governance that set clear boundaries for the household’s labour supply. Other couples apply more flexible regimes of household governance that blur the boundaries between paid and unpaid work, and leave more room for high labour supply. There clearly is no standard solution to the aforementioned coordination and transaction problems.
(3) Household governance structures are only to a small extent determined by job and household characteristics. Whether more regulative or more flexible regimes of household governance are applied by the couple is to a large extent independent from their given job or household situation. In contrast, within similar job and household situations couples vary considerably in their use of household governance structures. How they react to job and household constraints depends on their individual priorities and interests with regard to career and family. In this regard, our study has suggested that couples have quite a bit of freedom in their choice of a household governance structure. Or, alternatively, we were not able to find the right determinants, which may differ from the conventional work and family characteristics that we included into our analyses.
(4) There is no “one best way” of household governance. Neither a regulative regime of household governance nor a flexible regime of household governance is superior. For the most part, couples are quite successful in finding household governance structures which fit their specific preferences and circumstances. Yet, with regard to the earner model we find that a considerable number of households do not succeed in choosing an optimal solution. A majority of couples in our sample spent more hours on paid work than they would actually have liked to. Their failure to achieve a desired time allocation in the household is indicative of the underlying transaction problem we referred to above. In addition, with regard to the use of childcare facilities (or the use of informal help), we found that many families were not able to prevent negative effects on their work-life balance.

These four conclusions represent the main findings of our research. In considering them, what should be our final judgment about the usefulness and significance of the concept of the household governance structure?
First, we have to acknowledge a number of open questions in our study. We found strong empirical variations in household governance structures, but we were not able to explain these differences in a satisfying way. Simple job and household circumstances, such as a demanding job or the presence of young children in the household, did not have a big impact. What does this imply for our theoretical approach? In other fields of research, such as organizational science, transaction cost theory does much better in predicting different outcomes (for instance, about the make-or-buy decisions of organizations). It might be possible that the choice of governance structures in the household is of a more complex nature and follows a specific logic. Maybe our study missed some important determinants of this logic. The kind of relationship the spouses have, biographical experiences, trust relations or the given opportunity structure of the household might be more important in the choice of the governance regime than simple job or household circumstances. It is also likely that the household governance regime is highly dependant on individual preferences and normative factors like values and norms of the household environment (see Van der Lippe, 1993). Couples in similar job and household circumstances may choose different governance structures according to their normative baggage or personal tastes about how to manage a household and their individual priorities with regard to career and family. Such emphasis on personal preferences is also a tenet of boundary theory (Clark, 2000; Kreiner, 2006). Correct as this may be, it does not add to the explanatory power of the concept.
In addition, there remain other open questions. Our research design was not able to investigate how household governance structures emerged, and changed or persisted over time. We received a detailed picture of the given work and household organization, but only for one moment in time. Based on this picture we were able to assess whether differences in household governance were related to optimal or suboptimal outcomes with regard to the desired combination of work and care. However, processes of change – that is, reactions to suboptimal outcomes or adjustment to new circumstances – remained beyond our focus. The capability or incapability of couples to adapt the household’s governance regime might serve as an important additional explanation for optimal and suboptimal outcomes, respectively. In this view, the failure to achieve desired outcomes would be the result of another source of inflexibility, namely, ingrained habits or resistance to change from one or both of the spouses. We found evidence for this “status-quo effect” in the conflict-handling patterns of spouses, which fosters a traditional division of paid work in the household. Proper research on this issue would require a longitudinal design covering a longer period of time.
Moreover, it was a hidden assumption of our concept that household governance structures work similarly for both spouses. Yet, with regard to household rules we can easily imagine that the household governance regime defines different contributions for each spouse or that it varies in the “strictness” of the rules. We could not control for such differences in our study. Still, we found that women more often reported having rules in the household than did men. Is this just due to a different perception or definition of rules? Or does it mean that women are in fact exposed to a greater extent to household rules? If the latter holds true, we might well have identified an additional factor that accounts for the gender gap in labour supply. Further research should focus more attention on these differences. This would give us new and deeper insights into the functioning and consequences of household governance regimes. Our study has only provided the first steps on this path.

Nevertheless, on balance, we believe the concept is useful in steering our attention and guiding future research. It provides a systematic way of studying how couples cope with cooperation and coordination problems by using various layers of household governance. It also helps us to establish in what respect couples are successful or unsuccessful in their coping efforts. Previous research has repeatedly shown that problems in the combination of work and care emerge due to institutional barriers, high employer demands or financial restrictions. Our study has shown that these problems probably also emerge due to transaction problems. We saw how couples were creative in developing and inventing tailor-made solutions for household governance, and that these solutions helped them to a great extent in overcoming their cooperation and coordination challenges, and in achieving desired outcomes. Yet, we also had to note that they did not always succeed. A considerable number of them were not able to achieve a desired combination of work and care. Our new concept helps us to explain why, and it makes it possible to identify the layers of household governance where suboptimal outcomes occur. We found that many couples were “caught” in a dilemma: They either needed to expose the household to extreme work loads or they had to expose themselves (or, respectively, just one of them) to the unforeseeable risks and costs that are related to a reduced career engagement. We saw that a large number of them chose the first option.

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About the author
Philip Wotschack studied Sociology at the Free University Berlin. The present study was conducted at the Interuniversity Center for Social Science Theory and Methodology (ICS) in Groningen.
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Philip Wotschack – Household Governance and Time Allocation – Four studies on the combination of work and care
Dutch University Press – ICS dissertation series – ISBN 978 90 3610 139 4 – 2009

The complete book online

Chapter One: Chapter One: Introduction
Chapter Two: Guidelines for Supervisors
Chapter Three: Guidelines for Mentors
Chapter Four: Coaching: Charting your own Path
Chapter Five: The Relationship between PhD Candidate and Supervisor
Chapter Six: A Holistic Approach to PhD Support
Chapter Seven: Bibliography and Recommended Reading
Appendices and Acknowledgments

Foreword by Ms. M. Metcalfe

I am very pleased to present this second edition of the South Africa-Netherlands Research Programme on Alternatives in Development (SANPAD) Supervision Workbook.

The Workbook is yet another contribution by SANPAD towards improving the quality of supervision of doctoral students in South Africa. The Department of Higher Education and Training is particularly encouraged by these efforts, as they continue to enhance the overall quality of our PhD graduates and future academics. PhD qualifications are generally considered to be the first real entry points into the rigorous world of research. As a result, the focus on improving the academic experience of students at this level through improved supervision and mentoring will go a long way towards increasing the overall numbers of PhD graduates at our institutions.

It has become clear that although the number of students enrolling for PhD studies in South Africa has increased over the years, a large proportion of these students do not complete their studies. The reasons for this are many, among them the relationships between supervisors and their students and the overall quality of supervision. The difficulties often stem from the fact that not all supervisors have been properly trained for supervision duties. The mistake that is often made in higher education institutions across the globe is to assume that every academic, by virtue of his or her experience in teaching or research, knows what is required to supervise postgraduate students. Studies show that this is not usually the case and, in fact, academics need proper training and support if they are to effectively carry out their supervision responsibilities. This Workbook will provide a useful guide for both supervisors and PhD candidates on how to structure their working relationships into better interaction and supervision experiences.

This book sets out to serve as a challenge for improving PhD supervision, mentoring and coaching both in South Africa and in the Netherlands. It can be utilised as a training manual for supervisors in both countries. The book is also easy to use, as it provides practical examples and scenarios. Moreover, it provides strategies on how to deal with some of the challenges commonly experienced by both supervisors and candidates during PhD supervision, mentoring and coaching. For these reasons, I offer my support for this publication.

Finally, I would like to thank the individual authors of each section of this book for their hard work in putting together such an important text. My sincere thanks also go to the people and institutions that have provided support for the production of this book. I really hope that this resource will stimulate and inform. In this way it will contribute positively to the improvement of our postgraduate students and research system.

MS M. METCALFE

DG: HIGHER EDUCATION AND TRAINING

Chapter 1 – INTRODUCTION

1.1       Background to this Workbook

SANPAD (South Africa-Netherlands Research Programme on Alternatives in Development) has had a proud history of over ten years in providing a platform for promoting a research culture in South Africa in partnership with the Netherlands. SANPAD’s flagship programme has been its research capacity building programme for pre-doctoral candidates. Two hundred and thirty candidates were selected for the RCI programme during the period of 2002-2008; all candidates registered for their PhD degrees. Of these, 125 have graduated from their respective universities, and the remaining 105 candidates who registered between 2005 and 2008 are expected to complete their PhDs and graduate by the end of 2010.

Following the first edition, the approaches to supervision and mentoring have evolved over time (with some new facilitators), but the essence of running the workshops from which this publication emanates has essentially remained the same. However, in this second edition, as implied by the revised title, we have included coaching as an important means of promoting graduate student success. This expands the coverage and includes numerous improvements to the original material. The first edition of this workbook filled an obvious gap at the time and met with gratifying reception from the academic community both in the Netherlands and Southern Africa, but there were areas that required further expansion and new information needed to be included. The PhD candidates, their supervisors and the facilitators in the Research Capacity programme (RCI) were a valuable source of information that motivated the authors to revise the first edition. Hence, the second addition was born. The changes in the second edition respond to the experiences of both the students and the facilitators in the SANPAD pre-doctoral programme and the input that we received from the broader academic community in South Africa over the last five years. More importantly, the book engages readers in dialogue and active reflection on the strategies of effective supervision of PhDs. Accessibly written, it encourages supervisors to reflect on and enhance their research supervision practice with a diversity of students on a variety of research projects. There is a special focus on research skills development and on supporting students through and beyond the examination process.

High quality postgraduate education is of central importance to the creation of the ever more highly skilled workforce that is necessary if our country and continent is to flourish in an increasingly complex and competitive world. It also brings great benefit to individuals and, through them, to society as a whole. Over the past decade we have witnessed some really quite dramatic and challenging changes in the shape, nature and volume of education at this level; changes that not only support our immediate needs for the workforce and knowledge-based economy but also reflect today’s remarkable and rapidly advancing technology. Of course, such changes don’t come for free and I am only too well aware of the various pressures to which postgraduate education is subject, pressures that in turn impact upon staff and students alike. It is against this backdrop that we present this comprehensive workbook on supervision and mentorship.

The first edition was immensely successful, as is so evident from the positive feedback that we received. The book has been most notably recommended as reading for many postgraduate programmes on the African Continent and so has had a much wider remit. I am convinced that this new edition will be even more successful than the first, successful with both postgraduate students and their supervisors.

1.2       South African Perspectives on the PhD

Since 1994, South African higher education has experienced a major transformation – particularly in redressing the educational backlogs and needs of previously disadvantaged students. A lot has been achieved in widening access for black students at the undergraduate level, specifically. However, with regard to postgraduate students and research output, the system is not yet making the progress desired, since insufficient numbers of black and women postgraduate students obtain doctoral degrees. Subsequently, institutions find it hard to reach staff equity targets and not enough black supervisors exist to serve as role models for black students. The Education White Paper 3 sounds the alert about the ‘insufficient research capacity in higher education that is amongst others poorly coordinated and inadequately linked to postgraduate studies.’[1] This paper has also prioritised the access of black and women students to master’s, doctoral and postdoctoral programmes. These race and gender imbalances are found in the demographic composition of researchers in higher education, research councils and private-sector research establishments.

The participation and completion rates of black postgraduate students are crucial in order to deal with employment equity targets and the creation of a new generation of scholars/academics in South Africa. Although progress has been made in terms of the staff compilation of higher education institutions and black academics now constitute approximately 30% of the higher education workforce, they still produce less than 10% of all peer-reviewed articles in the latter part of the previous decade. In terms of equity, black students constitute about 30% of all master’s and doctoral enrolments in higher education. However, they only constitute about 20% of the postgraduate enrolments at the historically white universities. It thus seems that in the case of research, which includes master’s and doctoral degrees, it has been more difficult to break down the apartheid legacy than it has in terms of student access, research funding and staffing.[2]

The training of supervisors and promoters is becoming increasingly important as is the need to change dated ways of providing supervision. We need to consider how cultures meet, what kind of interactions should take place, and how applicable and acceptable the methods are for postgraduate students. The realities of a complex supervisory relationship, where colonial/West and African, the scholastically advantaged and disadvantaged, and a number of different cultures and languages interact, often with conflicting and deviating political and worldviews coming together, have not yet been researched sufficiently within the new higher education dispensation.

1.2.1    Complexities in postgraduate supervision

The predominant assumptions and values that have characterised postgraduate supervisory practices in the South African higher education system are mainly derived from aspects of European culture. However, higher education is a narrow culture that rewards specific ways of knowing and instinctively discounts other ways of knowing (nonverbal, empathetic, visual, symbolic or nuanced communication are often not valued, for example). Accepted postgraduate supervisory practices usually conform to the traditional ways of knowledge creation, research paradigms and worldviews, and utilise one specific methodology to oversee postgraduate research. What has thus emerged in the South African higher education system is a lack of conscious cultural identity among postgraduate students in higher education, since in most cases a single common norm is advocated and the culture-conscious postgraduate student is viewed as frivolous.

1.2.2    Supervisory challenges in the Southern African context

An array of challenges still face postgraduate supervision in the South African context, amongst them, inadequate academic literacy and writing skills, power relations, and inadequate preparation in research methodology.

1.2.2.1 Academic literacy skills

A great area of concern is the inadequate academic literacy levels of postgraduate students whose mother tongue is not English, as it is expected from them to write and articulate their ideas at the level at which they are working and thinking. Working in another language clearly hinders this. Often students need to translate what they hear and read. This slows down postgraduate students’ thinking and expression, impeding thought processes.

1.2.3    Power relations in postgraduate supervision

Power relations between supervisors and students usually emanate from the authority position of the supervisor, exacerbated in the case of non-traditional postgraduate students who work in English as a second (third, fourth or fifth) language. In a multi-cultural supervisory relationship, it is imperative to reflect on whether pedagogical approaches to supervision and research, and the suggested values and outcomes underpinning these, are themselves culture- and value-free or a product of cultural ideologies. In the South African context non-traditional postgraduate students and those representing first generation postgraduate students are expected to fit into the culture and practices of historically advantaged (predominantly white) higher education institutions and are expected to assimilate into these institutions’ beliefs and practices. This needs to be done with great sensitivity and to be built on a relationship of trust and respect. One way of achieving this, is to draw on Vygotsky’s work on mediated learning experiences.[3]

Vygotsky, a founding theorist on socio-cultural learning issues, reminds us that all uniquely human or higher mental functions are transformed social relationships which emerge and are shaped in the course of joint activities with others. The crux of the matter is that what people come to know, that is, how they learn to learn, to think and to act in particular contexts, is constituted in a relationship between their existing cognitive schemes, knowledge, skills and dispositions, the functional demands of the activities they participate in, and the forms of mediation they are afforded in such activities.[4] The implication is that, regardless of how much potential postgraduate students have, if they do not have opportunities to participate in activities that develop specialised forms of knowledge and functioning and/or are not afforded sufficient opportunities of mediation by others experienced in those activities, they are unlikely to develop such forms of functioning. Consequently, the notion of mediated postgraduate learning experiences and how they should be brought into supervisory practices is becoming increasingly important for transforming the typical South African postgraduate context. This should be viewed against the fact that the gap in many of our postgraduate students’ educational backgrounds and in their limited research training at undergraduate and honours degree levels needs to be closed by helping students along their way, in other words, closing the gap between what is known and what is to be known.

The following guidelines, drawing on the actual experiences and observations of exemplary supervisory practices within South African universities, should be considered when attempting to improve the practice of supervision:   – Applying appropriate selection measurements which could include instruments that will assess the student’s level of readiness to engage in rigorous postgraduate work.

– Considering the training of supervisors as a serious matter, since underprepared supervisors can hamper the quality of postgraduate work, retention and success rates. Training should include aspects such as technical, personal, legal, ethical, administrative and professional aspects of supervision.

– In addition, an induction programme for new supervisors in the field should be designed so that they gradually learn to supervise, ideally under a mentor, starting initially as a co-supervisor.

– Creating reporting opportunities for new supervisors in the field, so that they can receive constructive feedback on emerging problems and take corrective action before serious problems surface.

– Offering structured and regular opportunities for students to provide feedback on the quality and effectiveness of supervisors and on their experiences of the overall supervisory process. Such a practice will ensure that students at risk can be identified early so that necessary and timely interventions can be brought to bear.

– Ensuring that universities, faculties and departments have an updateable Handbook for Supervision which outlines the code of conduct for all involved. This will ensure that every supervisor and student is aware of and familiar with the often complex administrative regulations, requirements and deadlines that accompany this process.

– Holding supervisors accountable for the progress of supervision by requiring regular reports on each student. A ‘logbook’ is often very helpful, as it keeps a record of all the meetings and interactions between student and supervisor as well as what should be done in terms of follow-up action and preparations for the next meeting.

– Looking carefully at the workload of supervisors and preventing a novice supervisor from supervising more than one or two students.

– Getting to know the postgraduate student early on. Although this is hard for cases of supervision at a distance, for those students who are nearby and on-campus, it is important to get to know the students.

– Building the confidence of the postgraduate student: students should be encouraged to put ideas on paper. This will help the supervisor to judge whether the student understands the nature of the doctorate and will provide opportunities for positive feedback.

– Dealing effectively with pressures in the supervisory relationship: there are the pressures of the developing relationship and pressures to get the student completed in the designated timeframe. Students need to understand that they must work hard early on and have regular meetings. At the end of a meeting, the next meeting needs to be scheduled.

– Keeping to timeframes. Supervisors have a responsibility to get students to stick to timelines. Establishing this habit early on in candidacy is crucial.

– Monitoring student focus. The supervisor needs to keep one step ahead of the student to keep the student from being sidetracked. If the student is going off in different directions, pull them back into focus.

– Encouraging publications from the beginning. Supervisors should encourage students to publish, although this will depend on the student and the topic. If a student is able to be published in a good journal, this will help the examination. But getting published needs to be balanced with getting the thesis written. Writing the thesis should be the first priority.

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Next Chapter: Chapter Two – http://rozenbergquarterly.com/?p=1863