Nytt

Den nederlandske journalisten og forfatteren Margalith Kleijwegt snakket med foreldre i innvandrertette strøk i Amsterdam i forbindelse med boken «Usynlige foreldre – Mohammed B.s nabolag», og fant at de jevnt over lever i dyp fornektelse deres barns atferd. Forfatteren mener at fremgang i disse miljøene ikke blir mulig før foreldrene klarer å akseptere at det ikke er samfunnet eller skolen, men deres egne barns atferd som skaper problemene.

Hüseyin P. var bare 14 år gammel da han knivstakk og drepte sin 16 år gamle klassekamerat Yossef Mokhtari. Tragedien skjedde utenfor skolen de gikk på. Hüseyin ble angivelig mobbet på grunn av navnet sitt og hevnet ærekrenkelsen. Det er den offisielle historien.

Imidlertid hadde Kleijwegt startet arbeidet med boken fire år tidligere, og hadde snakket med foreldrene til alle elevene i en klasse på Calvijn Junior College, der begge guttene hadde vært elever. Alle elevene i den aktuelle klassen, bortsett fra en, hadde ikke-nederlandsk bakgrunn. Også på denne skolen utviste Hüseyin en aggressiv og vanskelig atferd:

Students and teachers at Calvijn Junior College were deeply shocked by the catastrophe at Tec College. Both schools fall under the same board of governors and have similar student populations. They knew from experience that these two boys were no angels. Hüseyin had also been difficult and aggressive at Calvijn Junior College. He had even molested a girl there; she reported it to the police, but later withdrew her complaint. A very unsatisfactory state of affairs, according to the teachers.

Så ung, og allerede såpass voldelig. Hvor kommer all frustrasjonen og det blinde raseriet fra? Hüseyins historie minnet forfatteren om et annet tilfelle fra den samme skolen; Bekir Erdogan, som også skal ha blitt mobbet. Bekir følte seg så krenket at han en dag møtte opp på skolen med en flokk venner, alle bevæpnet med kniver – klare til å sloss. Lærere og sikkerhetspersonell fikk grepet inn i tide.

A serious talk with Bekir’s parents followed. Good people who wanted what was best for their son. Because they were afraid he was heading into the wrong direction they had sent him to a special boarding school for Turkish adolescents. ‘I couldn’t help him,’ Mr. Erdogan said helplessly when I asked him why. ‘Especially with his homework.’

For many immigrant parents bringing up their children seems to mean averting catastrophe rather than something good and enjoyable. The parents lack confidence in themselves, the world and their children. They frequently have enough problems of their own to worry about, they don’t speak Dutch, have no jobs, or are depressed. There is always a reason why the upbringing of their children slips through their fingers.

Kleijwegt fant at noen mødre ikke engang visste hvor skolen til egne barn lå, og at de heller ikke hadde noen innsikt i hva som foregikk i selve undervisningen. Når barna forteller at de gjør det bra på skolen, er foreldrene bare så altfor villige til å tro dem. De stiller ingen øvrige spørsmål om barnas skolegang. Dersom skolen informerer dem om at barna deres utviser dårlig oppførsel, plasserer foreldrene skylden på andre fordi de selv ikke aksepterer sannheten:

In their perception the outside world is a big bad place. So when there is a problem, when the school informs them that their child is misbehaving, parents often place the blame elsewhere. They prefer not to face up to the truth. This denial can be extreme.

When Ali’s behaviour in class 2K had deteriorated to a completely unmanageable level, when he was threatening fellow students and verbally abusing teachers, his father bragged to me about his role as First Neighbourhood Father (Buurtvader) in Amsterdam-West. To my astonishment he totally denied that there were problems with his children – his other son had belonged to the inner core of a gang of young criminals for years.

The school would not and could not keep Ali as a student there any longer, but the father did not want to hear this and refused to cooperate to have him transferred to a special needs school. His son, he insisted, was fine.

Den samme mekanismen med fornektelse viste seg nylig da Ahmed Marcouch, formann for distriktsrådet i det belastede Slotervaart, oppfordret foreldre til å holde barna sine inne om natten for å unngå at de satte fyr på biler. I stedet for disktriktets støtte, ble Marcouch anklaget for forræderi. I følge foreldrene hadde han for det første ikke noe med å blande seg i deres saker og for det andre var alle disktriktets barn engler som ikke engang ville røre en fyrstikk.

Samtidig observerer lærere at selvkritikk er en egenskap som er blitt fullstendig fraværende blant innvandrerungdom. Mange marokkanske studenter i Vest-Amsterdam var rasende etter at Bilal B. ble skutt og drept av en politikvinne [da han angrep henne med kniv inne på politistasjonen – politikvinnen ble hardt skadet]:

Discrimination!! they shouted in unison. A disgrace. Surely the severely wounded (black) police officer would have aimed at his legs had he not been Moroccan, they argued.

The teachers tried to convince their students that the shooting had been in self-defence, but they were not having any of it.

The step towards seeing oneself in a different perspective, taking oneself a little less seriously, or practising self-mockery of the kind so beautifully present in the film «Shouf Shouf Habibi» (Hush Hush Baby), is apparently too much for many families. However, only when parents of youths like Ali are ready to confront their children; when they are ready to see that it is not society or school that has it in for their sons; when they can acknowledge that their children do cause problems, only then can we start to make some progress.

Sign and Sight: Not my son

Nytt

Den nederlandske journalisten og forfatteren Margalith Kleijwegt snakket med foreldre i innvandrertette strøk i Amsterdam i forbindelse med boken «Usynlige foreldre – Mohammed B.s nabolag», og fant at de jevnt over lever i dyp fornektelse deres barns atferd. Forfatteren mener at fremgang i disse miljøene ikke blir mulig før foreldrene klarer å akseptere at det ikke er samfunnet eller skolen, men deres egne barns atferd som skaper problemene.

Hüseyin P. var bare 14 år gammel da han knivstakk og drepte sin 16 år gamle klassekamerat Yossef Mokhtari. Tragedien skjedde utenfor skolen de gikk på. Hüseyin ble angivelig mobbet på grunn av navnet sitt og hevnet ærekrenkelsen. Det er den offisielle historien.

Imidlertid hadde Kleijwegt startet arbeidet med boken fire år tidligere, og hadde snakket med foreldrene til alle elevene i en klasse på Calvijn Junior College, der begge guttene hadde vært elever. Alle elevene i den aktuelle klassen, bortsett fra en, hadde ikke-nederlandsk bakgrunn. Også på denne skolen utviste Hüseyin en aggressiv og vanskelig atferd:

Students and teachers at Calvijn Junior College were deeply shocked by the catastrophe at Tec College. Both schools fall under the same board of governors and have similar student populations. They knew from experience that these two boys were no angels. Hüseyin had also been difficult and aggressive at Calvijn Junior College. He had even molested a girl there; she reported it to the police, but later withdrew her complaint. A very unsatisfactory state of affairs, according to the teachers.

Så ung, og allerede såpass voldelig. Hvor kommer all frustrasjonen og det blinde raseriet fra? Hüseyins historie minnet forfatteren om et annet tilfelle fra den samme skolen; Bekir Erdogan, som også skal ha blitt mobbet. Bekir følte seg så krenket at han en dag møtte opp på skolen med en flokk venner, alle bevæpnet med kniver – klare til å sloss. Lærere og sikkerhetspersonell fikk grepet inn i tide.

A serious talk with Bekir’s parents followed. Good people who wanted what was best for their son. Because they were afraid he was heading into the wrong direction they had sent him to a special boarding school for Turkish adolescents. ‘I couldn’t help him,’ Mr. Erdogan said helplessly when I asked him why. ‘Especially with his homework.’

For many immigrant parents bringing up their children seems to mean averting catastrophe rather than something good and enjoyable. The parents lack confidence in themselves, the world and their children. They frequently have enough problems of their own to worry about, they don’t speak Dutch, have no jobs, or are depressed. There is always a reason why the upbringing of their children slips through their fingers.

Kleijwegt fant at noen mødre ikke engang visste hvor skolen til egne barn lå, og at de heller ikke hadde noen innsikt i hva som foregikk i selve undervisningen. Når barna forteller at de gjør det bra på skolen, er foreldrene bare så altfor villige til å tro dem. De stiller ingen øvrige spørsmål om barnas skolegang. Dersom skolen informerer dem om at barna deres utviser dårlig oppførsel, plasserer foreldrene skylden på andre fordi de selv ikke aksepterer sannheten:

In their perception the outside world is a big bad place. So when there is a problem, when the school informs them that their child is misbehaving, parents often place the blame elsewhere. They prefer not to face up to the truth. This denial can be extreme.

When Ali’s behaviour in class 2K had deteriorated to a completely unmanageable level, when he was threatening fellow students and verbally abusing teachers, his father bragged to me about his role as First Neighbourhood Father (Buurtvader) in Amsterdam-West. To my astonishment he totally denied that there were problems with his children – his other son had belonged to the inner core of a gang of young criminals for years.

The school would not and could not keep Ali as a student there any longer, but the father did not want to hear this and refused to cooperate to have him transferred to a special needs school. His son, he insisted, was fine.

Den samme mekanismen med fornektelse viste seg nylig da Ahmed Marcouch, formann for distriktsrådet i det belastede Slotervaart, oppfordret foreldre til å holde barna sine inne om natten for å unngå at de satte fyr på biler. I stedet for disktriktets støtte, ble Marcouch anklaget for forræderi. I følge foreldrene hadde han for det første ikke noe med å blande seg i deres saker og for det andre var alle disktriktets barn engler som ikke engang ville røre en fyrstikk.

Samtidig observerer lærere at selvkritikk er en egenskap som er blitt fullstendig fraværende blant innvandrerungdom. Mange marokkanske studenter i Vest-Amsterdam var rasende etter at Bilal B. ble skutt og drept av en politikvinne [da han angrep henne med kniv inne på politistasjonen – politikvinnen ble hardt skadet]:

Discrimination!! they shouted in unison. A disgrace. Surely the severely wounded (black) police officer would have aimed at his legs had he not been Moroccan, they argued.

The teachers tried to convince their students that the shooting had been in self-defence, but they were not having any of it.

The step towards seeing oneself in a different perspective, taking oneself a little less seriously, or practising self-mockery of the kind so beautifully present in the film «Shouf Shouf Habibi» (Hush Hush Baby), is apparently too much for many families. However, only when parents of youths like Ali are ready to confront their children; when they are ready to see that it is not society or school that has it in for their sons; when they can acknowledge that their children do cause problems, only then can we start to make some progress.

Sign and Sight: Not my son