Tag Archives: education

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.

Taiwanese Taekwon-doh!

24 Nov

Creativity is not usually on the menu in Taiwan or China.

I can remember watching news of the First Gulf War in my living room with my parents. I was eight. And I can still remember their palpable intensity. I remember thinking, this is important. I didn’t know why, but I was certain it was.

At what age should children be aware of the gravity of a situation? At what age should they read between the lines?

Today, I asked one of my older classes to write down their thoughts on Taiwanese taekwondo athlete Yang Shu-chun and the fallout from her disqualification at the 2011 Asian Games– what Taipei Times is calling “SOCKGATE.”

I have two hours to teach essay writing skills to A3 each Wednesday. To give you an idea, they’re 12-year-old children from middle-class families, and they’ve been studying English for at least five years.

Yang Shu-chun is and has been the story in Taiwan. The students had heard the news and understood what had happened. But when asked why this story was important or interesting, they struggled to formulate ideas beyond “Koreans are bad people.”

(These are confidential essays. We discuss a topic in class. I offer a skeleton introduction and a dozen or so questions to help students form the body of the essay. They are encouraged to come up with their own conclusions.)

Fear not, Miles, it’s just taekwondo and the Asian Games, you say. Who cares?

You know, I used to lament my Chinese university students’ lackluster understanding of world news and its impact on their lives. But be damned sure, that if C-H-I-N-A was in the headline, they knew about it. And almost all of them knew exactly what they were supposed to think.

I am not saying I want all Taiwanese to be indoctrinated with party-fed prattle.  But I would hope, in facing an increasingly aggressive China, these children of Future Taiwan can be more creative and articulate than the voices from across the Strait.

(There is teaching to be done in A3.)

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