HS van der Walt - a "Dassie" reminisces

Founded in 1915, HS van der Walt High School in Paarl was not an ordinary school for girls. You could have been fooled, especially on Sunday mornings when rows of girls, dressed all in white and sporting the most horrendously awful little hats, marched off to church. You would have been fooled into thinking that these young ladies were the absolute vision of innocence and decorum. It was only when you took a closer look at the bars on the windows of the hostels, and realised that during school holidays an inordinate amount of girls stayed at the school, that you may have wondered why it appeared a little odd.

Simply, it was an "Industrial" or "Trade" School - managed by the then Department of Education together with the Department of Welfare and was basically a place to keep and hopefully educate female juvenile delinquents. Industrial schools had been established from 1909 onwards to 'rescue' the offspring of the white unemployed from indigence. Whereas the reformatory was created for the rehabilitation of convicted juvenile offenders, the industrial school was intended for the 'protection of destitute children and waifs and strays'. (Linda Chisolm)

Somewhere along the line, the criteria for sending girls to the school got a little blurred. Girls from all walks of life, different backgrounds and religions, rich or poor, drug addicts, prostitutes, car thieves or simply being orphaned; or as in my case, too independent (they said rebellious!?!) for my parents to handle - were committed to HS van der Walt. No, committed is the right word - you could not leave when you wanted to, could not visit home for holidays or change schools unless the Welfare approved it. If the powers that be thought your intelligence adequate, you were sent there as it was the only school in the stable that taught commercial subjects to matric. 

I seemed to have spent an awful lot of time in my youth being very angry with

Entrance to HS van der Walt - Photo: Piet Killian

adults in general. They seemed unable to make rational decisions, were liars, unreliable and totally untrustworthy, so at the age of 14, I ran away from home and declared my independence! For the best part of 3 months I lived with friends, worked as a casual at OK Bazaars and was quite happy with my life. Regretfully my parents and the state did not agree with my assessment and after my photograph was published in the Sunday Times, I was unceremoniously rounded up by the police and after a rather brief court appearance, bundled on a train and sent to HS van der Walt High School.

Having spent much of my school life in boarding school, this one was not all that much different. We attended classes, had weekly assembly, was sent to the principal's office for various infringements, participated in sports activities, etc. In the hostel we shared rooms, listened to the radio, gossiped about everything and anything, were allocated tasks that included polishing floors, cleaning bathrooms, making our beds, doing laundry, helping out in the kitchen, etc. But in all this semblence of normality there was one major difference ..... the lockup! 

Lockup window in red / Our room in yellow

Each hostel had one that consisted of one very small room furnished with a mattress, a bible and a pot (yes - THAT kind of pot!). There were at least 4 sets of various bars on the window and double doors, the inner one made of steel. This room was designed to isolate, humiliate and rehabilitate the occupant until such time that the powers thought sufficient time have been given for the offender to reflect on their behavior. Sentences could range anything from a few hours to a few weeks and I was absolutely terrified of that room. I have never figured out if it was pure claustrophobia that was the basis for the terror - or a part of me that knew I would not emerge sane if I had to spend any time there - but it served to keep my "independent" nature in check.

The hockey field - Photo: Piet Killian

The other major influence on my life at the school was the school psychologist, a tall, dark-haired man called Mr Whiddicombe. I did not appreciate him much at the time but as I grew older I realised what an exceptional human being he actually was. Consider working in an environment of 150 teenage girls who all suffer from major issues, real or imagined and being able to listen to each one of them and find a way to best treat their emotional and spiritual aches and pains? He once told me that I reminded him of a caged tiger with a toothache and the only remedy he had for me to sort myself out was to walk me round the hockey field until I was ready to drop from exhaustion and just too damn tired to keep up with being angry. I do know that he did not have a easy recipe for all the girls and  many of them hated him with a vengeance. For whatever reason, his method worked well enough to keep me out of that darn room so I remain grateful to him. 

There were a few weird and wonderful traditions at "Dassieland' - like our nickname for starters. "Dassies" are African rodents called rock rats who live in rocky environments and like to bask in the sun. Where the name first originated is unclear but if you ever lived in the Western Cape you would know that winter is cold, rainy and misty and that the girls would appreciate any patch of sun to provide a little warmth. 

The school's motto SEMPER STABILIS (Ever Steadfast) was more a pipe-dream than an actual reflection of the volatile, dramatic, aggressive and sometimes downright brutal atmosphere of the school. With such a mixed bag of characters and temperaments, it is a wonder that the school did not explode into riots and major destruction. The staff obviously had a huge role in ensuring that rebellious and aggressive teenagers did not get totally out of hand, but I think it had more to do with the friendships that formed among the girls that kept things under control. Girls who came from broken homes or abusive environments were no longer alone and did not feel that it was a case of them against the world. This at times generated an extraordinary loyalty which in many cases have stood the test of many, many years. There was a support system in place and sometimes empathy and advise often came from the most unexpected sources.

In our matric year, five of the girls (including the head girl at the time) ran away from the school. For the life of me I cannot remember the reasons, but I wanted to go with but could not ..... I could not squeeze through the bars in our room on the first floor! (Yellow block next to the lockup!) That did not stop me from helping them escape by pulling up the sheets they had used to drop to the ground floor and making the beds up neatly with them. Playing absolutely ignorant the next morning when their disappearance was discovered was a little scary but the proof had disappeared.  The hard part was that they never came back to the school and my dearest friend was among them.

Having finished and passed matric, I could not wait to get away from HS van der Walt High School and try with everything I could to forget of its existence. Perhaps because not all of us were determined to make something of ourselves in spite of where we had spent the latter part of our school years, but for the longest time having attended that particular school seemed like a life sentence.  It took the longest time for me to realise that people did not even know of its existence and could not care less where you had been to school - the matric certificate did not have the school's name on it and people are more interested in who you are than who you were.

Besties - 1973

In spite of that it has still taken a whole lot longer to let go of the apprehension of making contact with the girls who used to attend the school. Yes, there were some really unpleasant characters and I think my biggest fear is that they might not have grown up, taken responsibility for their lives and are still the nasty, unpleasant characters they were at school!! 

And if they have in fact done just that, wouldn't I feel like a right, royal, idiot!!

I never gave up on trying to find my dearest friend after I left school and it only took 36 years and the help of our other room mate for us to find each other. And you know what - she has not changed in the least! In spite of having 3 children and a 9th grandchild on the way, she is still my dearest friend.

 

Linda Chisolm : http://www.sahistory.org.za/archive/gender-and-deviance-south-african-industrial-schools-and-reformatories-girls-1911-1934