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13 December 2019 | Story Valentino Ndaba | Photo Johan Roux
Dr Thandi
After nearly seven years Dr Lewin finally graduates with a PhD.

Dr Thandi Lewin has spent the past six-and-a-half years of her life on her PhD.  It was only in the final year of the process that the thesis came together. “I had a few chapters and had done literature reviews and some theoretical work, as well as a little initial analysis, but none of it actually added up to a coherent thesis. The moment when I realised that I actually did have a thesis was a great feeling and a huge relief because it was only then that the end was in sight,” she said. 

On Wednesday 11 December 2019 her diligence culminated in a graduation ceremony at which she obtained her PhD in Higher Education Studies in the Faculty of Education at the University of the Free State (UFS). Dr Lewin formed a part of the pioneering cohort of the South African Research Chairs Initiative (SARChI) Chair in Higher Education and Human Development Research Programme, under the leadership of Professor Melanie Walker

Through the twists and turns

Working on her thesis on Early career women academics: A case study of working lives in a gendered institution, Dr Lewin struggled with time constraints. “I could not work on it every night or every early morning like some people do. My job was demanding, so I worked most nights and often went to bed quite late. Hence, I failed to focus on it during the week,” she explained.

When she began her PhD her youngest child was one year old. In addition to her job becoming more and more challenging over the years, Dr Lewin also had to maintain a morning and evening routine in order to make the most of the limited time she and her family had together. Yet after all was said and done, her research still beckoned.

Reaching the stage of walking across the stage

Given the rigorous process of completing a PhD, one of the major motivators was her supervisor. “Prof Walker was loyal and never gave up on me. She was also pragmatic and understanding. The commitment from a supervisor who is considerate of your personal circumstances, but is also as dedicated to your research project as you are, is quite something to find.”

For much of the past three years of her doctorate, Dr Lewin’s father was ill. He eventually succumbed to his illness in January 2019. The graduate struggled with managing her emotions as she felt guilty about not spending enough time with him due to work and research. “Being a mum and a daughter meant that if I wasn’t at work or working on my PhD I was with my kids or with my dad. But I must also acknowledge that my partner, nanny, and part-time housekeeper provided critical support which I couldn’t have done without.”

On gender and organisational cultures

The Chief Director for Institutional Governance and Management support in the university education branch of the Department of Higher Education and Training found the experience garnered in the system-level of higher learning enormously helpful in her research process.   “I have really enjoyed working in an area that interests me, and engaging with a topic that is policy-relevant,” she said.

Content
Melanie Walker (right) reading the PhD appraisal for Dr Thandi Lewin at the Graduation Ceremony.
(Photo: Johan Roux)


Cultivating culture change

Enabling women to rise through the ranks would require more effort to improve gender equity. “Organisations and universities can never really achieve gender equity without fundamentally changing their structures and cultures, which are deeply gendered. This also cannot happen without social change, which needs to take place in broader society and not only within organisations,” said Dr Lewin.

What this means for society and organisations is a shift from focusing solely on individual women. According to Dr Lewin: “Universities, in addition to their inclination towards slow change, are also experienced by many as exclusionary – not just by women, but by people of colour and those from working-class backgrounds, and others who have been traditionally marginalised in higher education. This is a critical issue for South African higher education – it is going to take a lot of time and focused commitment to change the cultures of universities to be more inclusive.”

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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