Vice Chancellor University of the Western Cape.
Professor Robert J Balfour, Director, School of Languages, Media and Drama Education, University of KwaZulu-Natal 2005-2008; Registrar St Augustine College of South Africa 2008-2010; Dean of Education Sciences, North West University 2011-2017, Deputy Vice Chancellor, NWU 2017-2024; Vice Chancellor University of the Western Cape, 2025-
When looking back at childhood and adolescent photos, I can see my youth was shaped by increasing solitude; it grew in measure of the shadows cast by a difficult home life, not made easier being an only child. Boarding school was meant to cure the solitude, but it served in some ways only to amplify the anxiety of desire mixed with religious shame. Better boys, or so it seemed, came from happier, more functional homes and, of course, they were straight. But here was also a solidarity among the misfits (sport was compulsory and those of thus manifestly useless at rugby, were placed in a team known as the “Sheilas” – a name we owned at times with glee) and fun times could be had. But the consequences then as now, of same sex desire if known or suspected, were severe, and the violence could, and did, stretch over years. This noted however, as a racially integrated school in 1980s, at least that normality prevailed, and it felt natural to make friends irrespective of race groups.
By the time I left to university, as much an escape from conscription to the army, as also an over-idealised grasp at freedom, I was under-educated: knowing nothing about the possibility of life as a gay man, little about relationships with people; less about the precarious South African situation in in 1980s. University residence life was not much better; the men and women I knew there who dared to be open, or different in their orientations, dropped out invisibly before completing studies, or quietly suffered breakdowns; some were bullied, others raped: the stories were told in whispers of disbelief. Far from free, higher education seemed sometimes also to imprison. Notwithstanding this here too were impressive and life-affirming freedoms: I discovered my love for literature and the Rhodes University English curriculum satisfied a voracious reading appetite; I made friends; and what felt like early survival, bloomed into joy. This was South Africa of the mid-90s and the promise of the Mandela years, was positive; gay rights were mentioned by name in the Constitution. I discovered that not only could academic achievement offer protection against poverty, but intergenerational friendships could be discovered as academics and older adults reached out to befriend and show interest.
University still seems the best kind of place to work because learning things new is rewarded, and creating new knowledge, is recognised. I want this place, where freedom of mind is nurtured in the disciplines of academic knowledge, to be that same kind of place: where freedom of identity can similarly be cherished. Every university, in South Africa, is working to get more right on inclusion. It’s important to break the boundaries of prejudice and the isolation it imposes. This is what makes for a wonderful challenge as a leader: enabling, supporting, nurturing that inclusive growth is needed; it can be more enriching than frustrating; especially when the focus is not the self. Find your community and if you cannot; then help, and seek help, to create it. Seek leadership, and if it is not evident, embody it and find allies to do the same: in everything leave a place better than you found it, for as many as possible.
