An Education System Worthy of Malaysia #40
Chapter 7: Strengthening The Schools
During colonial times the main problem with Malaysian schools was one of access. The English schools then were generally good, some were excellent, but they were not many. They were also necessarily elitist. Education was not for the masses rather for the select and lucky few. Today education has been democratized and made readily available to all. There are many more schools but few are good. Even previously outstanding ones are today a mere shadow of their former glory.
The British perpetuated racial and class divisions with its separate vernacular schools. Its English schools however, succeeded in bringing some segment of the community (primarily the elite and urban dwellers) together. The unity and solidarity of earlier Malaysian leaders could be credited to the fact that they all attended English schools. Today, despite the stated objectives that schools should be a force for bringing the nation together, young Malaysians are growing further apart.
Despite the overall gloom there are islands of excellence. The trick is not to muck up such successes in the zeal for reform rather to enhance and replicate them. In this chapter I will deal exclusively with schools, the next with higher education.
I would not change the total number of school years, but instead of the current format of K-6/7-9/10-11/12-13 (Primary/Lower Secondary/ Upper Secondary/Sixth Form), I would substitute primary (K-6), middle (Years 7-9), and high school (Years 10-13). Most of the changes would be at the high school. All students regardless whether they are academically or vocationally oriented would have 13 years of schooling, an improvement over the present. As for the curriculum, there would only be the four mandatory core subjects: Malay, English, science, and mathematics. These subjects would be taught daily at all levels, and in English, except for Malay.
Each school would design its own program to fill the rest of the day. The ministry would provide only general guidelines for the various subjects. Each school would decide what other subjects to offer depending on the availability of teachers and the demand from students and parents. This gives maximum flexibility to the schools and teachers to display their creativity and innovation. Note that the guidelines govern only the minimum requirements expected of all students.
The schools, especially those in the academic streams, are expected to exceed those standards.
Common Issues Affecting All Schools
MOE has a tight leash on schools, and those ministry bureaucrats are control freaks. Nothing gets done without their approval, not even fixing the leaking roof. The ministry controls every minutiae of the curriculum and syllabus, picks the textbooks, and decides who gets promoted. This monopoly must be broken and the private sector be allowed to participate. Schools are also getting too large and overcrowded as to be unmanageable. With headmasters poorly trained as managers, we have the mess today. The physical facilities too are wanting, and stressed with the added burdens of double sessions.
The ministry must relent and grant schools greater freedom. Many of the reforms worldwide are focused on decentralization as we have seen in Chile. In America there is a trend especially in the larger districts of delegating management from the district office down to the individual school – school-based management (SBM).
It would be foolish to let a small primary school in Ulu Kelantan to have its own management. That would only result in it being a pawn of ambitious local politicians and pompous village headmen. But there are schools with a long tradition of excellence and a large pool of distinguished alumni and parents who could guide their institutions to greater heights if only given the chance. I do not mean that the ministry should let go of these schools entirely. Rather it could influence them much more effectively using subtler yet more powerful instruments like the funding mechanism and in approving their trustees’ appointments. This would also be less crude but more effective than issuing missives and commands. Schools such as Victoria Institution, Penang Free, and the residential schools should be let free or at least be given the option for self-governance. Give them a global budget based on the enrollment, performance, or any other agreed-upon criteria.
With SBM the headmaster would nominate potential trustees, subject to the minister’s approval. The minister thus maintains veto power over such appointments. He should only approve well-qualified and dedicated candidates. As added precaution, there must be sufficient representation on the board from parents, teachers, and alumni. The board would have full authority, including the hiring and firing of staff, and choosing the textbooks. Surely they would be as qualified as those ministry officials. To maintain continuity the board would have staggered appointments, and to prevent entrenched trustees there should be term limits. The ministry would have to draw up model bylaws to govern the board’s authority.
Not every school would be capable of or want to have their independence. Thus before any school be granted SBM, there must be a request by the majority of the teachers. There should also be a mechanism to revoke SBM in case of dysfunctional management.
I would anticipate that a few dozen schools would qualify initially for SBM. Later with their success, they would entice others to take that route. Not only would this lighten the load of the ministry so it could concentrate on those schools that truly need its help, it would also empower our schools to seek their own level of excellence.
The second major factor is size. Many schools are too big, way past their optimal size to be effectively managed. I suggest limiting enrollment in primary school to under 400 students; middle school around 500; and high school, 600. Beyond those, students would be lost in the crowd and disciplinary problems become major issues. Studies indicate that smaller schools are not only safer but also more effective. I have seen the world of difference between the massive comprehensive schools where my two older children attended as compared to the smaller one my younger son went.
America is experimenting with dividing its large schools into smaller units, each with its own teachers and administrators but sharing the same campus. At some schools the students stay with the same teacher for two or more consecutive years. The idea is to have as many adults at that school know as many students personally.
There are many other advantages to small schools. Deborah Meier in her book, The Power of Their Ideas: Lessons for America from a Small School in Harlem, lists some of them. Meier, a pioneer in American education, feels very strongly that the current huge and factory-like atmosphere of many schools is simply dehumanizing, and takes a severe toll on the students. She has successfully demonstrated her conviction by running a small school in Harlem, the toughest inner city environment. Her students have consistently surpassed the national average; if we compare her students to those of other inner city schools the improvement is simply spectacular.
Small schools are more manageable. The teachers know each other and thus are accountable to one another. If someone were slacking, the others would know right away and could gently remind him or her in the common room. The physics teacher knows what the math teacher is doing, and they could coordinate their lesson plans merely by conversing in the hallway. There is no need to have a coordinating committee. Teachers would also know the students better, even those from other classes. When students become exposed to the same few teachers all the time, those adults become valuable role models.
Small schools are not more expensive; in many ways they are cheaper. At large American schools resources are diverted towards crowd control, with metal detectors and policemen. Personnel are consumed with handling disciplinary problems. Small size alone is not enough; it would be meaningless if such schools were not given sufficient autonomy to take advantage of their smallness. Then what we would have are clones of one another, and the mistakes of one get replicated.
My mother was a headmistress of a small primary school in her village during British rule. Because she also lived in the same village, she knew many of the parents. Her pupils were unlikely to bluff their way with her when playing hooky. It would be tough to say you missed school because you were sick when your headmistress saw you climbing the coconut tree that day. Because her school was small she actually taught a class while being a headmistress. I remember many parents bringing gifts of fruits and cakes to my mother during Hari Raya and at the end of the year, all very personal touches. Such occasions easily became informal parent-teacher conferences with valuable information on the child being exchanged. I have followed up with that tradition with my own children by giving token gifts to their teachers on the last day of school. No, that was not an attempt at bribing or currying favor as the grades were already out by then.
When Malaysia became independent, Malay schools were “modernized” and the principals had to fill in all the added paperwork to satisfy the new homegrown bureaucrats. My mother was consumed with administrative chores that took her away from her beloved pupils. She finally gave up her headship to return to the classroom. At the time she was bound by the old rules and could do this without any diminution in her pay. My father too was briefly a headmaster, but after one too many meetings with officials at the state office, he decided to come back as a regular teacher until his retirement a decade later.
I believe the effectiveness of traditional religious schools is attributed to the fact that their teachers are intimately involved in the community. The ustaz not only teaches in the madrasahs, he also leads the prayers at your parents’ khenduri (feast) and your brother’s circumcision rites.
At my son’s school the tradition was for the first teacher of the day to greet each student by name and a firm handshake as he or she enters the class, and the process is repeated with the last teacher as the students were leaving. There is nothing more personal than a handshake and looking straight in the eye of a youngster, and perhaps little words of encouragement whispered now and then.
Today’s schools are so large that such personal and human touches are gone. Not only are headmasters fully consumed with administrative chores, so are the senior assistants. When principals get far away from the classrooms it is easy for them to become detached from the realities. Ask headmasters to name some students they know well, they would be stumped. Today the administrative types are more likely to be promoted over the born teachers. These bureaucrats look upon their promotions not as opportunities to advance their pedagogical philosophy rather as an escape from the classroom.
Dr. Raymond Orbach, renowned physicist and head of the University of California, Riverside, in an address to incoming freshmen told them that his greatest pleasure was to meet and welcome new students; his second, to teach an honors class. This was his way to get a pulse on the most important segment of the campus community – the students. He does not need to get a detailed report from the dean of undergraduate studies; he meets the students every day in class.
Going back to Mrs. Meier, her program is now widely copied nationwide. In her teaching she tries to instill in her pupils and fellow teachers her school’s five broad principles. The first is, “How do we know what we know?” which is simply a way of asking us to weigh and examine the evidence to what we say or hear. The second, “Who is speaking?” that is, whose perspectives? The implication is that there can be multiple viewpoints to be considered. Third is, “What causes what?” a search for relationships, patterns, or connection. Fourth is, “How might things be different?” an opportunity to examine the “what ifs” and various suppositions. And lastly, a simple, “Who cares?” not a cynical dismissal rather another way of saying how and in what way do these things matter in the grand scheme, or to wax philosophical.
These five guiding principles are written down and hung in every classroom. I find them so helpful that I cannot help but repeat them here.
At the polar opposite of the large inner city schools that Meier successfully humanized with her small school movement, are the small isolated rural schools. The problems here are of a different order, quantitatively and qualitatively. Their smallness precludes them from offering enriched programs, and their teachers risk professional isolation. One solution suggested by the Annenberg Challenge is for these schools to form networks for support and sharing of resources. Thus small rural schools in one district could join together to share a music teacher or a mobile computer lab and library. Teachers could also get together for joint professional development courses. The areas for such cooperation and learning together are unlimited.
The next important issue with Malaysian schools is double sessions. The top priority must be to end this. I am disappointed that the funds allocated in the 2003 budget to ending double sessions are considerably less than that of providing IT. The government cannot end double sessions by itself; that would bust the budget. But by allowing for private sector participation, the load would be lightened. The government could also achieve more for its money if it cuts down on expensive and unnecessary projects like building residential schools, and by putting its contracts to open bidding and getting the best price instead of limiting them only to Bumiputra contractors.
The last point is parental choice – the freedom to choose the school that best fit the child. To make this a reality all schools must have adequate hostel facilities to cater for students who live far away. I favor limited hostel facilities attached to day schools rather than fully residential schools simply because the former would be considerably cheaper and more manageable.
If we have freedom of choice, how do we prevent self-segregation? One way is by rewarding those schools with a diverse student body. With the added funds they could enrich their academic offerings; this in turn would make their school that much more attractive to all Malaysians. Conversely we should not fund schools that restrict their enrolment to or attract only students from a particular race or religion. Thus exclusively Chinese, Tamil, or Islamic schools would not get any state funding. Most parents genuinely want their children to be exposed to their fellow Malaysians. Those few who resist, then they would have to pay for their children’s education. The objective is to have children of the different races study in the same classroom, not necessarily all the time but at least during their core subject classes.
This proposal is far superior to the present Vision School concept where students from national (Malay), Chinese, and Tamil schools share the same campus but study in their segregated classrooms. If we are not careful, these Vision Schools could easily degenerate into hotbeds of race-based gangs.
Inevitably with the freedom of choice, some schools would be perceived to be superior than others. Such schools must have clear and transparent admission rules and procedures to prevent favoritism, except for favoring siblings attending the same school.
These common problems disposed off, I return to the essence of my reform.
Next: Preschool and Primary Years (P-6)