Tag Archives: Education in Taiwan

Early Education in Taiwan

22 Oct

Found this Kristof article on the importance of early education in creating social equality to be interesting and on-point– “Occupy the Classroom.”

“The reason early education is important is that you build a foundation for school success,” [Kathleen McCartney, the dean of the Harvard Graduate School of Education] added. “And success breeds success.”

One common thread, whether I’m reporting on poverty in New York City or in Sierra Leone, is that a good education tends to be the most reliable escalator out of poverty. Another common thread: whether in America or Africa, disadvantaged kids often don’t get a chance to board that escalator.

We tend to have such a short-sighted view of how to fix major problems. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that investment in education is a wise choice to advance the opportunities of future generations.

I’m curious, in Taiwan, where kids start heading to (English) school at age 2, if this isn’t a great place to do larger-sample research on early education (something Kristof mentions as lacking in the US). Granted, Taiwan doesn’t mirror social environs of the US, mainly because Taiwan is so culturally homogeneous. Yet, there must be some lessons to take away.

Also, this article reminded me of what little China does to educate the children of migrant workers in eastern coastal cities. As you should be aware, Chinese migrant workers, the backbone of their meteoric rise to modernity, are not granted the same rights as local citizens holding a local hukou (citizen registration).

So, if you come from the countryside in Sichuan to work in Shanghai, you’re family is no longer provided any social services (because you don’t hold a Shanghai hukou). If you have a child, it is not allowed to attend local schools. It must attend a separate school (not easy to do), usually outside the city and extremely poorly funded.

This is one of the greatest injustices in China that few fully comprehend.

How Kids Should Act in the US, China & Taiwan

29 Mar

This was the certificate of merit given out to the top student in my class last semester. It reads: "Arhiehbement Dertificate."

I stumbled upon this Ministry of Tofu post about elementary school discipline codes a few days ago. The original post had garnered so much attention on microblogs in China that it was eventually picked up by Sina. It laid out the contrast as follows:

Disciplines of a U.S. elementary school

1. Always refer to a teacher by title and last name.
2. Get to class on time or a little earlier.
3. Raise your hand when you want to ask a question.
4. You may speak to the teacher from your desk while you are seated.
5. When you are absent, you must make up the work you have missed. Ask either the teacher or a classmate for the work.
6. If you expect to be away from school because of an emergency, tell your teacher in advance and ask for the work you will miss.
7. All assignments you hand in must be your own work.
8. Never cheat on a test.
9. If you are having difficulty with a class, schedule an appointment to see the teacher for help. The teacher will be glad to help you.
10.Students must bring a note for a parent explaining any absence or tardiness.
11.The only acceptable excuse for absence is personal illness, a death in the family, or a religious holiday. It is illegal to stay home from school for any other.
12.When a teacher asks a question and does not name a particular student to answer it, anyone who knows the answer should raise one hand.

Chinese disciplines for elementary school students

1, Have deep love for your motherland, for the people, and for the Communist Party of China.
2, Abide by laws and rules. Improve understanding of laws. Abide by school rules and disciplines. Act in line with social morality.
3, Have passion for sciences. Work hard on study. Think diligently and have a questioning mind. Be fond of exploration. Participate vigorously in activities that build social experience and/or are beneficial.
4, Love life. Protect yourself. Do physical exercises. Pay attention to hygiene.
5, Respect and love yourself. Be confident and strong. Keep civilized and healthy living habits.
6, Engage in labor. Be frugal and pristine. Depend on yourself to do things you are capable of.
7, Be filial to your parents. Respect your teacher. Be polite to others.
8, Have deep love for the group you are in. United with your classmates. Help one another. Care about others.
9, Be honest and trustworthy. Match your words with your deeds. Correct your mistakes once you are aware of it. Be responsible.
10, Love nature. Take good care of you living environment.
Loved it. But the China version doesn’t ring true here in Taiwan. So, I jotted down some quick ideas for my own code of conduct in Taiwan buxibans.
Code of Conduct for Taiwan Buxibans
1. Students should always call the teacher “Teacher”, as in sentences like, “Yesterday, I didn’t see Teacher.”
2. If a student knows an answer to a question, scream out for attention, i.e. “Teacher meeeeeeeeeeee!”
3. If that student does not get the teacher’s attention, he or she should continue to call out “Teacher… teacher… teacher.. teacherrrrrrr” and so on, forever.
4. Food should always be served cold.
5. Water should always be hot.
6. Tiger balm should be applied to all skin irritations.
7. Students cannot receive a grade lower than 80 on any homework, assignment, or test, even if it is unfinished or all wrong.
8. If a student doesn’t understand something, move on to the next, more advanced lesson.
9. Parents are always the best judge of how smart their child is.
10. Test scores are always the best judge of how good the school is.
Did I miss anything, fellow Taiwan buxibaners?

 

What education should be all about and isn’t in Taiwan & China

29 Mar

From TED TalksSalman Khan talks about how and why he created the remarkable Khan Academy, a carefully structured series of educational videos offering complete curricula in math and, now, other subjects. He shows the power of interactive exercises, and calls for teachers to consider flipping the traditional classroom script — give students video lectures to watch at home, and do “homework” in the classroom with the teacher available to help.

First of all, that video is amazing. It’s such a simple idea, but I agree with Gates that this software is revolutionary. It reminded me of how, if I were to open a language learning school, my school would be fundamentally different than what is currently offered here in Taiwan or China.

I never cease to wonder why schools here do not capitalize on multimedia education. Whenever I ask a student what he did over the weekend, the answers are always the same: played Wii, played computer games, or watched TV.

Yet, every language school I have ever worked at is still a pen-and-paper, out of the textbook school. Just doesn’t make sense. Capitalize on what these kids are interested in, and the results will improve exponentially. Allow teachers to be facilitators and moderators, not corrections officers (as one fellow colleague recently commented).

And the same thing goes for when I was an instructor in Xiamen University’s International Journalism program. I had to beg my faculty dean for a computer classroom to have access to breaking news and Microsoft Word. Even after finagling the schedule around to make it work, half of the computers could never connect online. Useless.

It just doesn’t make sense. A small investment in the necessary tools of 21st century education is not a waste of capital, as many of Taiwan’s money-making buxibans envision it. It’s not a short-term gimmick.

Imagine, a young elementary student walks in to his normal elementary school class. Almost all of his classmates will have gone to a nearby buxiban the evening before. Except, today, they all look like hell and he has a big ol’ smile on his face.

Kid #1: “Why are you so happy?” they ask.

Kid #2: “My new buxiban is awesome! For the first 10-15 minutes of every class, we watch an English cartoon. Then we take a break to talk about what is happening, what we like about it, and what we think is going to happen next. We write down a couple of important vocab words and phrases, then we get to watch the second half. After, we hop online and compete in games that focus on the themes, vocab, and grammar from the video. We can keep track of our progress, earn points, and even play at home! What did you do at your school?”

Kid #1: “We wrote each vocabulary word ten times, then threw a sticky ball at the white board for half an hour.”

Kid #2: winning.

Kid #1: going home to tell his parents he wants to change schools.

Corporal Punishment in China

24 Mar

A quick follow up on my previous post about corporal punishment in Taiwan.

Removing the physical form of abuse from both the Taiwanese and Chinese education systems has done little to curb the zealotry of either. I don’t mean to be disparaging to all educators, but certain realities need to be addressed.

The recent suicide of a student in Fujian, who walked out of a teacher’s 4th floor office and immediately jumped to his death, tragically illustrates how severe the system remains.

Fifteen-year-old Zhang Zhipeng was busted using his cellphone in class on Friday. The teacher, Ms. Su Meirong, took the phone from him and kept it for the weekend. Zhang, according to his family, understood he had broken a rule and accepted losing his phone for the weekend.

But when he returned to school that next Monday, Su, inexplicably, was even more incensed. She began berating Zhang in class, then pulled him out of the room and took him to her office.

After the mother came, Su Meirong went on to berate Zhang and slammed her desk several times during the process. On seeing her son’s misty eyes, the mother talked her son into apologizing to the teacher, hoping to end this storm. However, Su Meirong refused to accept it. Instead, she said, “You, get your schoolbag, and get the f**k out! No need to come to school any more. Your entire life has been screwed up and is officially over.”

Until this moment, Zhang Zhipeng didn’t answer a word back. He had been lowering his head and stomaching the abuse. However, after Su Meirong finished her insults. Zhang Zhipeng walked in silence out of the office and immediately jumped off the fourth floor. Zhang’s mother tried to stop him. However, right in front of her eyes, her own flesh and blood fell to the ground.

Zhang’s mother rushed downstairs, held Zhang’s body in her arms and cried for at least twenty minutes, during which time, nobody came to offer help, even though the hospital is right across the street from the school.

Ministry of Tofu has been in touch with the parents and has been reporting on the story here. At the end of the article, MoT has compiled a mere partial list of similar incidents over the last few years that have all stemmed from school-related pressure or psychological abuse. “It is easy to find something in common among these cases: corporal punishment and public humiliation,” Jing Gao writes.

This particular tragedy, the unbelievable escalation over such a meaningless violation of school policy, lowlights just how intense psychological scoldings can be and how little prepared students are to deal with them.

Even though the Communist Party has theoretically banned corporal punishment at school, some unscrupulous or short-tempered teachers hate to relinquish the role of father/mother, which gives them a sense of power and a vehicle for letting off steam.

However, when children and adolescents are abused and insulted by teachers, unlike adults who know how to vent, they swallow it, and let it get to their hearts and egos before finally imploding. Children’s mental health is often ignored in China, as adults assume children are happy and free from the worries and stress that adults face.  Besides, as a result of the Confucian value of filial piety, which characterizes the respect a child should show to his parents, coupled with China’s societal sea change after the economic reform that has widened the generation gap, Chinese kids are generally not as close to their parents as their western counterparts are, and are less prone to view their parents as friends to whom they can divulge their secrets. They tend to bear them themselves.

Pressure to excel in school is much more intense in both of these societies– I would argue even moreso in China, where an entire family’s future is often levied on one child’s performance on less than a handful of tests. Even in Taiwan, where the education system is more developed and teachers often better trained, systemic problems endure. In both places exists an unfathomable disproportionality between that pressure and coping mechanisms.

According to a survey conducted in 2004, among 2,500 elementary and middle school (equivalent of 7th to 12th grade) students, 5.85% planned suicide and 24.39% had a passing idea of “better to die than to live.” In 2005, Peking University’s research showed that 20.4% of kids in 13 Chinese cities had thought of killing themselves. According to Dr. Xu Guangxing, director of the center for psychological health at East China Normal University, until June 6, 2010, 5 to 6 percent of students under the age of 18 are suffering from depression. (emphasis mine)

I’ve often said about the only outlet for frustration and pent up personal issues I’ve experienced in Asia is karaoke. But that option may only be on the table for more well-off high school and college students. For younger students, there is an abysmal lack of safe activities or sports. The culture is very much against being outside in the sun doing physical exercise. So, what we have now, seemingly, as the only available solution is the Internet.

It’s baffling. It’s unhealthy. And it’s fatal.

Corporal Punishment in Taiwan

9 Mar

Not really Joe, but another of my favorite little monsters. He may have been trying to be a turtle. Let's just give him that, ok?

Meet Joe. He’s six, or so he says. His interests, in no particular order, are making obnoxious noises, distracting others, abusing others with a variety of ninja kicks and judo chops, and making little effort to speak English during English class.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice kid. I like him. He reminds me that I ought to track down and call all of my former elementary school teachers to apologize for my own twerp behavior.

But I have honed my methods of dealing with Joe. Mostly, they’re a system of warnings before I send him outside the door of the classroom for a few minutes to cool his jets. I also mix in a liberal amount of repetitive writing, standing up with his arms up for minor hijinks, and the occasional trip to stand in the back of the classroom if he is being super disruptive. I’ve moved his seat around so he’s out of arm reach of others. And I always explain to him in Chinese what he has done wrong after class. Most days, I manage to keep him under control.

The problem is, none of these minor inconveniences to Joe do anything to fundamentally alter his behavior. He stands outside the classroom, looking in sadly. He cries every once in a while. But that next day, he’s right back at it. Little punk ass.

Foreign teachers are put in a tough spot when it comes to discipline in the classroom here in Taiwan. From the standpoint of a buxiban teacher, we’re reliant on our school to set the policy. Generally, it’s in our best interest to defer to the Taiwanese co-teachers. But what is one to do when those methods seem a little, er, not right?

My co-teacher, a young girl fresh out of college who doesn’t speak any English, tries to help me with Joe. She’s gotten the order from the principal, who has presumably (though not always) spoken to the parents.

Yesterday, after I had Joe stand in the back of our classroom for incessantly speaking out in Chinese and singing in gibberish, my co-teacher took him aside. She half-pinned him in a corner and started motioning with a pair of scissors to cut off his hair. I couldn’t overhear what she was saying, but I am pretty sure it was something to the extent, “I told you to be good or I’d cut your hair off.”

When I first came to Taiwan five years ago, the government had just outlawed corporal punishment in schools. The first school I taught at still had the xiaoheishou (小黑手), a little black leather swatter in the shape of a hand attached to an elastic bungee stick, in every classroom. Whack!

I don’t know what to make of it. Sometimes, the punishment seems to border on Abu Ghraib. I’ve seen toddlers locked in closets with the lights off. I’ve seen all types of odd physical endurance punishments. I’ve had parents ask me to hit their kids. I’ve heard kids belittled to tears. Told they would be sent home with another family. Made to feel worthless.

And the problem isn’t only the teachers, most of this sort of stuff is “cultural.” The larger problem is this back-asswards education industry. From kindergarten to cram school, there really is no enforceable disciplinary system. The schools are at the mercy of the parents.

Private education is a cash game. More students, more cash; the ends justify the means. So, for the boss of the school, the warden, he just has to keep order, no escapes. That means making sure parents think their child is learning and happy. And if that child happens to be light years behind his peers and showing signs of learning disabilities, well, everything is dandy as far as the school is concerned. Hand over that tuition and here’s your piece of shit in a box of gold.

Students can’t get grades below an 85. They’re too big to fail. It’s bailout central. I write comments for all of my students at both schools. I am not allowed to write anything even remotely possible of being perceived as negative. If the child is a constant disruption in class, never completes assignments, cusses at me and others, it’s basically, “Dear Dahmer family, Little Jeff is doing great!”

It is a joke. The schools are beholden to the kids. They have to balance making sure the child doesn’t complain about the school and making sure the student seems to be learning a lot in class, even if that means teaching 5-year-olds who can’t tell you their name how to say the word “excavator” when prompted. It’s gotta be fun, but strict– no games, only writing, reciting, testing, again and again– but fun.

Teaching in buxinbans is a scam. Even in the good schools. For people coming to teach in Taiwan, or practically anywhere else in Asia, realize that schools are going chew you up and spit you out. If you can’t get enough out of life outside the classroom, you’ll fail.

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