Beyond the classroom – rethinking the drivers of educational failure in SA

A teacher can go above and beyond under certain circumstances, but they cannot replace a parent.

Photo by MChe Lee on Unsplash

There is no longer any serious debate about the state of public education in South Africa; the facts are clear. Roughly 80% of public schools – which are predominantly attended by black learners in townships and rural areas – are failing to meet even the most basic standards. National reading assessments confirm that nearly 80% of Grade 4 learners cannot read for meaning. Close to half of those who begin Grade 1 do not complete matric, and among those who do, many exit the system with poor results and limited prospects.

The prevailing view rightly points to government failure as the chief culprit. The Department of Basic Education (DoE) has consistently underdelivered on some of its key mandates, which include providing qualified teachers, adequate infrastructure, and learning materials. It is understandable, then, that many believe the solution lies in more competent governance. However, while not incorrect, this analysis, is insufficient. It fails to grasp the full complexity of what has become a generational crisis.

What is often missed in policy discussions is that educational outcomes are not merely determined by classroom inputs. They are also, and fundamentally, shaped by the social environments in which learners are raised. In this regard, the crisis in education is as much a reflection of family breakdown and social dysfunction as it is of state failure. And if we’re being honest, this dysfunction is most pronounced in black communities.

With regard to this, we must ask some unsettling questions: Who actually raises our learners? Is it their parents, grandparents – or do they raise themselves? If they are being raised by certain people, are these caregivers educated? Do they ensure consistent school attendance? Do they monitor academic progress? Do they provide emotional support? And perhaps, most importantly, is the home a conducive environment for learning? Or is it characterised by instability, distractions, or neglect?

Parental interest and involvement is also a key driver for better managed schools and assessments, as principals and teachers are held accountable by the school community.

These conditions matter deeply. Schools alone can compensate for some disadvantages, but they cannot overcome the total absence of structure, discipline, or guidance at home. Any honest attempt to fix our schools must therefore begin with a recognition of the crucial role that families play in shaping educational outcomes.

This is not a comfortable conversation to have because it confronts realities that many would rather ignore. Nevertheless, if we are serious about change, we must be willing to examine not only systems but ourselves too. We must ask how values are transmitted across generations, and what norms are upheld or neglected in the spaces where learners grow up. It is within these spaces that attitudes towards education are formed, reinforced, or undermined.

However, to suggest this is to risk provoking familiar accusations of historical ignorance or indifference to the lived realities of black people. But recognising dysfunction is not the same as disregarding context. The country’s history of colonialism and the migrant labour system did indeed fragment black families and weaken social institutions. This is a reality that must be acknowledged. However, it cannot serve as a perpetual excuse for inaction.

Despite limitations imposed by external factors, agency still exists and remains a fundamental aspect of individual responsibility. Recognising this, we must accept that with agency comes the duty to act. Black families must be rebuilt not because history is irrelevant, but because the futures of black children depend on them.

This means moving beyond rhetorical commitments to “transformation,” and confronting the cultural norms that enable underperformance. It means rejecting the fatalism that insists nothing can change until the state delivers. And it means empowering families, churches, community organisations, and civil society at large to take up the urgent task of rebuilding the moral foundations of our society.

The government can and should play a role in reforming education through decentralised, market-based approaches that incentivise performance and restore power to local actors. But without parallel efforts to restore functional families and communities, even the best reforms will falter.

A teacher can go above and beyond under certain circumstances, but they cannot replace a parent. A textbook cannot substitute for encouragement at home. A well-managed classroom will do little for a learner who goes home to chaos. Education policy, no matter how sound, will remain toothless if it is not matched by a cultural revival that restores dignity to the family and responsibility to the individual.

What the country needs is not only better educational policy, but also a cultural and moral reckoning that refuses to outsource responsibility to the state alone. Until we recognise that the crisis in our schools is a mirror of a broader societal issue, our interventions will remain shallow, and our outcomes unchanged.

We do not need to choose between holding the state accountable and challenging communities to do better. We must do both. The education crisis is both a failure of policy and a test of national character. We cannot afford to keep failing.

Ayanda Sakhile Zulu holds a BSocSci in Political Studies from the University of Pretoria and is an intern at the Free Market Foundation.