Chapter 7:  Strengthening Our Schools  (Cont’d)

Matrikulasi

Matrikulasi was originally meant to supplement Sixth Form but its very success ended up emasculating Sixth Form. Today even leading residential schools have dispensed with Sixth Form. Matrikulasi is a major and very expensive program. On some universities nearly half of all new enrollees are made up of matrikulasi students.

It is time to rethink the issue. Our universities are squandering their valuable academic and physical resources doing something that could be done more efficiently and cheaply by schools. Universities should be doing only those academic activities that cannot be done elsewhere, that is, education at the undergraduate, graduate, and professional levels.

Under my reform, there would be no need for matrikulasi. The program has acquired an influential constituency especially among the political establishment. Recently UMNO Youth successfully reversed the decision to close UM‘s matrikulasi. If the authorities insist on maintaining the program, then it should be used strictly as an outreach program and restricted to Bumiputra science students from disadvantaged backgrounds. Students currently attending well-equipped urban or residential schools should not be admitted. By being restrictive in this manner, the center would truly augment the pool of Bumiputra science undergraduates.

In an interview with Utusan Melayu, the UM professor in charge of its matrikulasi bragged about the center having trained children of many prominent Malays. These are precisely the students the center should not admit. They should be able to take care of themselves and not crowd out those kampong kids who truly need the extra help provided by the center.

Nor should the university use its precious PhDs to teach these classes, instead it should employ those with masters or good honors degrees. Leave the professors to do research and to teach at the degree level. This would optimize the use of valuable and scarce academic resources.

I would also revamp the curriculum, making English compulsory and taught daily. To improve the students’ verbal skills, I would have them take part in small group seminars in English where they would participate in class discussions, similar to the freshman seminars at top American colleges. Additionally the students would have to be computer literate.

While I am in favor of closing down matrikulasi entirely, I can be persuaded to keep it

Islamic Schools

In addition to the national and national-type schools, there is another parallel stream – Islamic Schools. Religious schools have a long history in Malaysia. Learning in traditional Malay society consisted primarily of reading and memorizing the holy Qur’an as well as instructions in performing prayers and other rituals of the faith. These usually took place at the home of the Imam (religious teacher) or at small suraus (prayer houses). These later developed into madrasah, the village equivalent of the one-room schoolhouse. Some became bigger with living quarters for instructors and students. These schools were usually funded by the community and supplemented by modest contributions from the students.

The pedagogical skills of the teachers are marginal at best. The madrasah is no place for the inquisitive mind. Any questioning or otherwise expanding of the thought processes is actively discouraged. Worse, it is regarded as the machination of the devil. I briefly attended one such school; my parents wisely took me out before I would have to spend more time in purgatory. My memory of that experience was the mindless rote recitations and endless memorizations without my understanding any word. About the only kind thing I can say is that it prepared me well for my later years in medical school when I had to memorize all those anatomical terms.

These religious schools were basically neglected and ignored in colonial times. Now the federal government, eager to prove its Islamic credentials and to “out Islam” the opposition PAS, has taken over many of these schools and vastly expanded the system.

Islamic educational institutions run through the entire spectrum, from preschool to graduate and professional schools. Apart from the federal government, state governments (especially those controlled by PAS) as well as Islamic organizations are also actively setting up these schools. These religious organizations have done a significant public service by placing their schools, especially preschools, conveniently in residential areas. There are preschools in the villages as well in urban squatter areas to attract the poor. There is tremendous community support and involvement with these schools. But even in their modern versions, the intellectually oppressive ambience of the old madrasah still exists.

This notwithstanding, more and more Malay parents are sending their children to religious schools, both the government as well as private ones. The Islamic cachet, as usual, sells with Malays. While in the past these schools attracted primarily academic dropouts and those unable to afford the regular schools, today this is no longer the case. Often they are the school of first choice. The dropout rates are much lower, in fact non-existent. There is a palpable missionary zeal attached in attending these schools, and this is reflected both in the teachers’ as well as the students’ attitude. To be absent from school meant not simply playing hooky but also committing a major sin. Besides, Allah is always watching and All Knowing! There is a firm belief that they – teachers and students alike – are doing God’s work. Consequently there are few disciplinary problems. There are certainly no drug problems – a significant accomplishment these days.

Teachers have absolute control over their students. Going against the teacher is not just being naughty but going against the representative of God. Awesome! There will hellfire to pay later, if not sooner. Visiting these schools I am always struck with how very well behaved the children are, very polite and dutiful. Despite the less-than-professionally trained teachers, these students do learn. When visiting my village I am simply amazed of the glowing stories from parents about their children who had done poorly in regular school only to shine when sent to a religious one. One parent in particular boasted how his son was able to read and speak Arabic fluently in only two years. More recently I am hearing these favorable comments from Malay parents I meet in America. These are highly educated Malays who have been exposed to and benefited from Western education.

There are two possible interpretations. One is that the national stream has degenerated to such a level that the previously lowly religious schools have now become highly regarded by comparison. Two, these religious schools have really improved. After visiting both schools, I believe the first.

These religious schools, especially the private ones, have achieved much with their meager resources. There is a lesson here. All is not well however. The teachers and headmasters may think they are doing God’s work and that God is on their side, alas these mortals clearly have been negligent in their worldly responsibilities. Every so often we read of students being killed when their dormitories caught fire. The safety measures on these schools are nonexistent – no fire alarms or extinguishers, and no regular fire drills. Students sleep without mosquito nets, a severe health hazard in view of the endemicity of malaria and dengue. These schools often lack electricity; students study by the old kerosene lamps. And with their loose clothing and flowing headgear, these are dangerous firetraps.

The personal hygiene of the canteen personnel leaves much to be desired. I could hardly contain my professional concerns when I see the kids gulping the canteen food. Newspapers carry almost daily headlines of food poisoning at these schools.

The Islamic stream is an anomaly; its goals are the very opposite of the national aspirations. While the national stream seeks to integrate Malaysians, religious schools purposely keep them apart. While national schools are inclusive (or at least try to), the religious schools are explicitly exclusive. No non-Muslims need apply. While the curriculum of national schools is geared towards equipping Malaysians with relevant skills, religious schools are consumed with seeking rewards in the hereafter. While I criticize the national schools for their narrowly focused curriculum, the religious schools are even worse. One could say that the students are streamed right at preschool to pursue a religious path.

Graduates of the Islamic stream have extremely limited job opportunities outside of government or even within the public sector. Perversely, the government implicitly encourages young Malays to pursue religious studies when it expanded the religious establishment. Apart from the vastly expanded religious department, the government also has specialized units like the Institute for the Understanding of Islam. Every government agency, including embassies and consulates, has a resident imam. I fail to see what functions he serves, except as a massive public work scheme to employ these graduates. There is a limit to such expansions and today we have reached the saturation point. Meaning, employment prospects even in government are now significantly reduced.

Part of the difficulty the government is having with the Malay masses is precisely because huge numbers of these Malays with qualifications in Islamic Studies (and liberal arts generally) are unable to find employment. They rightly feel betrayed, and their numbers keep growing.

Thus the irony of these graduates being hostile to the very government that champions the cause of Islam. Recently the government advertised for 100 vacancies for Islamic teachers and was stunned to receive over 4,000 applicants. Imagine the fate of those not successful, and think further that the universities would be producing more of their kind every year. It is finally dawning on the government as to the potentially explosive nature of this mess.

Yet to date precious little is being done to reduce the numbers. To be sure this problem has been building up for years. What surprises me is that it is only now that the government is aware of the problem. As is typical with MOE specifically and of Malaysian officialdom generally, everything has to reach a crisis point and blow up in their faces before they recognize that there is indeed a problem. And then a few more years would elapse before they would begin thinking of a solution. Perhaps a decade later when the problem has become overwhelming would something be done to resolve it.

The narrow curriculum of the religious stream means that its graduates have limited flexibility in employment or furthering their studies. There is also the question of academic rigor. Education Minister Musa Mohamad recently revealed that less than 25 percent of Sixth Formers from religious schools qualify for local universities, compared to over 90 percent for secular schools. This is a national disgrace. To me the more scandalous part is that it took him this long to find out, and then all he did was merely acknowledge the appalling statistics. A national workshop of local academics convened to address the issue was no better. Its deliberations were tediously long on description and woefully short on prescription.

Next:  Reforming Religious Schools

Chapter 7:  Strengthening The Schools (Cont’d)

Residential Schools 

Residential schools are expensive and consume more than their fair share of the resources. Yet they do not have much to show. Even though they get the best students, the number of their graduates whoend up at top universities is far less than that of many private institutions. We should expect more. In my scheme the present residential schools would be in the academic stream.

As these residential schools get the top students, the mission should be to prepare them for elite universities. These students must be prepped for international examinations like SAT, AP, IB, or GCE A level. This means greater emphasis on English. In addition to teaching science and mathematics in English, I would also increase the hours devoted to English classes, as well as the number of subjects taught in that language. I would go even further and make these schools entirely English medium, with Malay taught only as a subject, just like the English schools of yore.

China is converting its top schools and universities into entirely English medium. It is doing so in the conviction that their top students should be exposed to global knowledge and competition. Note, Chinese language is far older and better equipped than Malay, yet Chinese leaders have no qualms in using English. They do not consider such a move as denigrating or in any way dishonoring their language or culture.

I would stop building new residential schools and concentrate on enhancing the output and quality of existing ones. These schools should cater only for the last four years, Forms 4 to 6. It should discontinue the present lower forms. At these levels the pupils are too young to be separated from their families. Further, the predictive value of the tests on which they were selected is not very reliable. Eliminating the lower forms would also effectively increase the output without incurring much additional costs.

Presently admission is based on merit. Unfortunately it is narrowly defined exclusively in terms of examination scores without considering other factors. A doctor’s son with an “A” is treated in the same manner as a villager’s son with the same score. I would define merit more broadly. Thus a village boy with a B would be favored over a doctor’s son with an A. Given the superior environment of the boarding school, we should expect the villager’s son to perform even better. The doctor’s boy will do well even if he is not admitted to the boarding school; his well-educated parents would ensure that. By admitting the villager’s son over the doctor’s, we would end up with potentially two well-educated Malays. Left in his regular environment, there would be minimal opportunity for the village boy to shine.

In judging merit we should look at not only the past achievements but also more importantly, the potential. The first part is easy, simply look at the test score – a computer can do that efficiently. The more difficult and judgmental part is to assess the students’ total potential.

At present these residential schools are filled with children of the well to do and top civil servants. This is no surprise as they are the ones we would expect to do well at the Primary 6 examinations. But if we do not make a concerted effort to admit children of the less privileged, we would not get the best out of these expensive schools. We should learn from America. Harvard admits many students from disadvantaged background despite their less than sterling test scores because those admission officers look at the potential of these students. Similarly the highly popular Rice University School mentioned earlier purposely limits the slots available for children of its faculty members so as to give others a chance.

In my old village there is a saying, habis dek orang pangkar (all the food had been consumed by the servers with none left for the guests – the intended recipients). Meaning, the government’s goodies have been gorged by the civil servants and politicians with little left for the people. Residential schools should primarily be an outreach program, as originally intended. I would reserve 75 percent of the slots for disadvantaged Bumiputras or those who would be the first in their family to enter college. The other 25 percent would be open to all, including non-Bumiputras. They however, would have to pay the full costs. With the extra income thus generated these schools could augment their academic offerings with music classes, better libraries, and well equipped laboratories instead of having to depend solely on the government for funding.

I would intensify the competition by returning poor performers back to regular schools. This would serve as a lesson to other would-be slackers and ensure that such expensive facilities would not be wasted on the lazy and the mediocre.

One way to cut costs without sacrificing quality and output would be to make these schools not fully residential. Students from nearby areas could be day students, thus sparing the school the added costs of boarding. Having more day students and reducing the need for large hostels could increase the school’s capacity without incurring much additional costs. The present practice of sending students all over the country unnecessarily incurs additional transportation costs. Instead, let each school concentrate on students from within the state and nearby areas.

These schools must have stable, strong, and dedicated leadership. It is reprehensible that MCKK has had more headmasters during the last 25 years (since locals took over) than in its first 70. There was an instance when a Malay headmaster stayed barely a few months, just long enough to put an entry on his resume!

The headmastership of these schools must be a terminal appointment and generously paid. The post should not be a stepping-stone for someone on his way to be undersecretary for procurement at the ministry. The last expatriate headmaster at MCKK stayed for over a decade until his retirement. He left a significant legacy. Ask those local headmasters what their legacies are, they would be hard pressed to name any.

Visiting a premier residential recently, I was astounded that the principal could not name his top students, much less the universities they would be attending. Obviously there is minimal personal and professional commitment from these modern day educators. In contrast, long after I left MCKK, I was still receiving letters from my teachers and headmaster. And they were not even Malaysians! To support the headmasters and teachers, these schools must have an equally committed board of trustees. There is no point in appointing luminaries residing in Kuala Lumpur and who makes only occasional visits to the school. We are fortunate in having many outstanding citizens living near these schools. Appoint them! These local engineers, physicians, and lawyers would provide much-needed leadership and valuable mentors to the students. These schools would also be my ideal candidates to be liberated from MOE by having their own school-based management (SBM).

Residential schools have proliferated in the last few years, with many more in the pipeline. They divert resources away from other schools. We must critically evaluate their effectiveness and make the necessary modifications to enhance their results.

Next:  Matrikulasi

Chapter 7: Strengthening the Schools (Cont’d)

Middle School (Years 7, 8 and 9)

My proposal calls for minimal changes to middle school. The same four core subjects would be taught daily. The curriculum could be modified to meet the needs of the students. A school with exceptionally bright students could offer advanced mathematics and special enrichment programs like GATE (Gifted and Talented Education); likewise schools with slower students could offer more remedial classes. I would introduce electives; letting students choose their own subjects beyond the core. Some electives could be prescribed; for example, at least two years of fine arts or crafts. The student could choose to take the same fine arts or crafts for all the three years or try different one for each year. A long recognized pedagogical wisdom is that arts and crafts should be a basic part of every child’s education.

I would make extracurricular activities mandatory. The theme for sports should be, “Athletics for All.” Every student should participate; if he or she is not good enough to be on the school team, then there should be house teams for intramural competition. Because everyone takes part in sports there is no need for a special period for physical education.

I would design sports activities around the physical environment. For schools near rivers and the coast, I would provide swimming pools. Every year we read reports of children drowning; these are all preventable. Similarly for schools near golf courses, arrangements could be made so students could use those facilities. For the golf clubs, that would be a splendid opportunity for public relations. After all these clubs received substantial government grants and subsidized land prices, that is the least they could do to be good corporate citizens. These students could be their potential members.

Athletic programs need not be expensive. Team sports like soccer, sepak takraw, basketball, and volleyball do not cost much.

Middle school is qualitatively different from either primary or high school. This difference extends beyond mere differences in age. The middle school years are characterized by raging hormonal changes and tumultuous physical and emotional transition between childhood and adolescent. These students need their own space, away from both the pre-pubertal group as well as the older adolescents. In rural areas where there would be not enough students yes, by all means combined the primary with middle school, but the two should still be separate and independent entities, sharing only the physical campus. Preferably they should have their own separate building at either end of the school ground, and separate teachers and headmasters.

The middle school program should be broadly balanced between basic academics and the fine arts, as well as full participation in extracurricular activities.

High School (Years 10-13)

High school would see the greatest change. Essentially there would be three streams: academic, regular, and vocational. The academic stream would prepare students for universities; vocational for trade and skilled occupations. The regular stream would prepare students for entering directly into the work force as well those who would end up at non degree-granting institutions (technical and teachers colleges, nursing schools, and polytechnics).

Students would be streamed based on their performance at middle school, as determined by their overall GPA as well as their PMR scores. The top third would be selected for the academic stream. I would encourage an equal number to opt for the vocational, and the rest would continue in regular schools. There should be no compulsion; students would be free to choose except that entry into the academic stream would, as expected, be competitive.

The word “streaming” is a poor choice here. It connotes a permanent labeling of individuals based on some test scores. What I mean is that some schools would focus on academics and others on vocational. The rest will continue as regular schools, offering as many subjects as there would be demands by their students. Nothing would prevent a regular school from offering classes that would normally be offered at an academic school (calculus and the pure sciences) or vocational one (woodworking, auto mechanic) if there are demands from the students.

Similarly nothing would prevent the present large schools from transforming themselves into the equivalent of the American comprehensive schools or the German Gesamtschule and offering the whole spectrum of subjects from academic to vocational. But instead of having one unmanageable unit I would divide the school into the three smaller components of academic, regular, and vocational, each with its own set of teachers and principals, and located in separate buildings on the same compound. They may share the some common programs for music, fine arts, and sports. In this way students could switch from one stream to the other without having to change campus and the consequent physical and social disruptions.

I would broaden the criteria of those eligible for academic schools to include the top 10 percent of students (as judged by their teachers) from every middle school. Many of them would qualify through the normal selection process, but by making this extra option we would select those bright students who for some reason do not excel in standardized tests because of a variety of reasons. One could be that their particular school was not well equipped with good teachers and facilities. This provision would obviously benefit small rural schools, and rightly so as they should be given preferential treatment. It is not the students’ fault that their school is not as well equipped as urban ones.

Doing this would also encourage parents to send their children to rural schools as their chance of getting into the academic high school would be greater. This inflow of involved and committed parents would only enhance the caliber of such schools.

This streaming must be flexible to cater for late bloomers as well as those who discover their technical aptitude later. Students should be able to switch in the first two years based on their aptitude, performance, and teachers’ recommendations.

There will be the same four core subjects taught daily in all streams. The level or depth would vary. With the academic stream, the science could be offered in greater intensity with individual subjects like physics, chemistry, and biology; in the regular and vocational streams it could be offered simply as general, physical, or life sciences, geared to the students’ needs and capabilities. Similarly for mathematics, there could be calculus and statistics for the academic stream; general and “consumer math” in the regular and vocational.

I would pattern the academic schools after the best American “prep schools.” Local universities could collaborate in designing the syllabus. In this way they would know exactly the academic preparations of their incoming students. I would model vocational schools along the German Dual System. Industry experts would draw up the curriculum; they would know better than ministry officials the needs of industry. Properly designed the vocational stream could be integrated with apprenticeship programs. Students could spend their mornings in classrooms and afternoons at factories or constructions sites, combining theory and practice. Students could even be paid for working, making the vocational stream even more attractive.

Making the vocational curriculum relevant, meaningful, and with a high degree of practical orientation would greatly reduce the unacceptably high dropout rates for those who lack academic aptitude. America has elaborate remedial programs for “at risk” students, like independent study programs where students are taught less academic subjects but in a personalized fashion. The curriculum is also less rigid. Frankly a good vocational program would be far more effective.

The main purpose of vocational and other non-academic programs is to produce what Robert Reich calls the “routine production services” and “in person services” workers. The former includes factory workers, electricians, and clerical workers; the latter include service industry workers like waiters, tour guides, and childcare personnel. Many regard these services as menial, thus not requiring full schooling, special training, or deserving high salaries. The reason these workers earn low wages in the Third World is precisely because they are not properly trained. There is a world of difference between a waiter in tuxedo serving an elaborate gourmet dinner in a dining room with tablecloth, fine china, and silver cutlery, to a sweaty Bangladeshi illegal immigrant in his undershirt serving teh tarik on a greasy porcelain table. In my student days I used to work in a dining room. It took me over three months before I was promoted to be a waiter, and yes, with my own tuxedo. In the process I learned how to set tables, pamper my customers, take their orders accurately, and such social graces so as to make their experience pleasurable. I was well paid for y services, enough to support my sister in university. I also made a point of saying to my inquisitive guests that I would be going to medical school in the fall. That always prompted more generous tips!

There was nothing demeaning about my job; I enjoyed it immensely. Even today when dining out I cannot help but grade the experience. Once while vacationing in Langkawi my wife and I stayed in a new resort. At dinnertime I began my usual habit of critiquing the service. Unbeknown to me, a foreign gentleman a few tables away was intently listening to my comments. When we finished dinner he stopped by and invited us to his office. He was the manager, and was very interested in my comments! He lamented on the difficulty of getting trained waiters or to have them accept the concept that there are skills and graces they have to learn in order to be good at their jobs. It happened that there was a government vocational school nearby training workers for the hotel industry. I visited it and inquired whether it had a program to train waiters, and received a befuddled look from the man in charge.

Such “menial” jobs may appear to be insulated from global competition. Malaysian waiters may feel that they need not worry about competition from America or Australia. Not true! If our waiters and tour guides cannot make the experience of our tourists pleasant and memorable, they would not return. They will go to Bali or Disneyland instead.

Even clerical workers are not immune to global competition. Many American companies are transferring their back office work to Third World countries like Jamaica. With modern satellite communications it matters not whether the processing is done in Timbuktu or Toledo, Ohio, the data could be flashed back to America instantaneously. The dictations at many American hospitals are transcribed in India. It is first digitized, sent over the Internet to India where it is downloaded, transcribed, and then e-mailed back to America ready for the patient’s chart by the next morning. These jobs are done by Indian doctors who find that they could earn more by using their medical knowledge deciphering these dictations rather than treating the sick.

The service calls to American companies are answered not by highly paid American workers rather by Indians in India. They have been trained to get rid of their thick rolling accent and speak like Americans. They even acquire homey American names like Diana and Patty, and learn the minutiae of Americana so that customers at the other end of the line think that they are speaking to someone in Peoria, Illinois, and not Poona, India.

In America the fastest growing service industry is childcare. Childcare workers are tested for health, checked for criminal records, certified for cardiopulmonary resuscitation, and trained for other childcare skills. They are paid well. They are also far different from the illiterate and unskilled maids Malaysia imports by the thousands from Indonesia and Philippines. As Malaysians become more affluent, they too would want their children to be taken care of by competent personnel. Compare the quality (and hence pay) of maids working for expatriates to the Indonesian servants working for local families. Jobs like housekeeping and maid services as well as mechanics, electricians, and plumbers are well paid in America because consumers value those skills and expertise.

Because of these global implications Malaysia cannot afford to ignore the non-academic stream and the education and training for those so-called menial jobs. The variety of vocational jobs in a modern economy is endless, especially in the service sector. I would boldly say that we should not build any more universities and instead build additional vocational schools and training institutes. This would go a long way in providing skilled workers and artisans, and at the same time give our non-academically oriented students a bright future.

Next: Residential Schools

Chapter 7: Strengthening the Schools (Cont’d)

Preschool and Primary Years (P-6) Cont’d

These innovations are expensive, but it would be more expensive if these children failed to get quality education because of inadequately trained teachers and poor facilities. Even seemingly simple items like transportation, uniforms, books, and other supplies can be major burdens for rural families. I would provide free transportation just as in America. Uniforms, textbooks, and other supplies should also be provided free. These miscellaneous items are expensive in their aggregate. The government should not be providing them to all students rather target only the poorest and most deserving, thus maximizing the impact.

I do not quarrel much with the present curriculum. In particular, the teaching of science and mathematics in English is timely. I would go further and have both English and Malay used together in tandem throughout the school years. Doing so would make the pupils learn to read and think in both languages simultaneously. To be considered fluently bilingual one has not only to read and write in both languages but also to dream in both.

I consider myself fluently bilingual. When I read in English I automatically think and respond in English; likewise when I read in Malay, I think and respond in Malay. My brain does not go through a mental translation process; it bypasses that. When I was a surgeon in Malaysia I had no difficulty explaining complex medical issues and procedures to my Malay patients, as I had already understood the concepts. I automatically and mentally processed the knowledge and then verbalized it in Malay. What I did not do was plan what I wanted to say in English and then translated into Malay.

The problem with Malaysians today is that because of their limited English, when they want to speak in that language they would first think what they are going to say in their mother tongue and then translate it into English. Not only is this process mentally inefficient, the subsequent English version will sound like the typical “Manglish,” literal translations of Malay phrases. We should encourage the young to develop the capacity to absorb knowledge in both languages and then be able to express it in either.

This mental process is equivalent to someone learning the imperial and metric measuring systems. When you are facile with both, you need not mentally convert one to the other. When visiting Tokyo and the temperature is 40 degrees Centigrade, one does not take out a calculator to convert it to the more familiar Fahrenheit (104 degrees) and then say, “Wow, it’s hot!” One has learned in the metric system to associate 40 degrees with uncomfortably hot; 30, T-shirt beach weather; 20, nice air-conditioned office; and 0, freezing and uncomfortable. Similarly in the Fahrenheit system, 32 degrees is freezing; 70, nice air-conditioned office; 90, beach weather, and over 100 uncomfortably hot. One trains oneself to bypass or eliminate the mental conversion phase.

This is what we should be teaching our students. When they think in English they will speak in English; and in Malay when they think in Malay, bypassing the mental translation. The younger we start the easier it would be. One of the difficulties in teaching a second language to adults is to break this habit of wanting to translate everything mentally.

The purpose of total immersion classes in learning a new language is precisely to eliminate this phase. That was how I learned Malay and English. Malay is my mother tongue so that is the language I used at home. At school I learned totally in English. So at a very young age I learned both languages simultaneously. A child does not know how to translate, so the brain automatically bypasses that process. I just knew that in speaking to my teachers, I used English; at home, Malay. There was no confusion. You learn right from the beginning to say “beautiful house!” and in Malay, “rumah cantek!” (lit. house beautiful). But if you were in the mode of mentally translating what you are going to say, then you would likely say in English, your Malay thought, “House beautiful lah!” That of course is how Manglish comes about, literal translations of Malay phrases.

Similarly when I write in English, I gather my thoughts in English and then go ahead and write in it. When I write in Malay I gather my thoughts in Malay and then write in Malay. What I do not do is write my essay in one language and then translate it into the other. I tried it, and it sounded awkward and just not right.

Modern clinical research supports my contention. In one experiment, bilingual subjects were shown blocks of different colors and were asked to state the color in the language in which the question was asked, while their brain activities were monitored by functional MRI or PET scans (imaging techniques of brain activities). Those who were bilingual at a young age showed brain actives in only one spot of their brain when asked in the two languages, while those who were bilingual only as adults showed activities in two areas. That is, those who were bilingual since young treat the two languages as one and use only one part of the brain. Their brain is twice as efficient as those who were bilingual as adults.

Further studies show that young bilingual children learn early that names of objects are arbitrary, so they grasp abstractions early. They are also good at ignoring “noise” or misleading information. Malaysia should capitalize on these scientific findings and push for bilingual education as early as possible. For Malaysians this would not be a novel experiment, we did it very well 50 years ago under the British.

There are many successful experiments in America on using two languages simultaneously to teach primary school-age children, as exemplified by Rice School described earlier. Likewise in Canada, more and more schools are using this approach.

Malaysia too can experiment along similar lines. In communities with a high background of English and low in Malay (as in urban areas), we could teach more subjects in Malay and fewer in English. Conversely in areas with high Malay but low English usage (rural areas), we should teach more subjects in English. The aim should be that all pupils would be fluently bilingual in Malay and English.

The other major problem with Malaysian schools is the gaping urban-rural divide. The digital divide receives much attention but it is only one manifestation of this quality gap. The dilapidated conditions of rural schools are obvious; they lack even the basics–electricity and potable water. This is one reason they do not attract good teachers. The poor facilities are compounded by double sessions. One of the worst consequences feared by Malay parents on the current proposal to teach science and mathematics in English is that it would further disadvantage rural students; hence their opposition.

The government is embarking on making all schools into single session. I would emphasize rural schools first. With single session the school day could be extended so pupils could spend the afternoon in arts, crafts, and music as well as taking part in sports or “prep” time. With such attractions and varied activities, the pupils would be less likely to drop out, especially if we combine this with school lunch programs.

Tamil schools suffer the same fate as rural ones. They are small and remotely located in estates. They attract only Tamil-speaking Indians, not a very large pool. Their dwindling enrollment makes it difficult to justify their continued funding. They would be better off integrated with national schools. Many of these Tamil schools are so dilapidated that they ought to be closed for safety reasons. National-type Chinese schools do a much better job; they are also increasingly attracting many non-Chinese students, including Malays. That speaks volumes. Their success is primarily because they emphasize the basics, especially mathematics. There is also a high degree of parental and community involvement. They pride themselves for being outside the mainstream, of being “special” and of not being mixed up with the mess that is the national system. Their facilities are also superior; few have double sessions. Apart from the common curriculum mandated by the ministry, they are remarkably free to chart their own course away from the oppressive control of officialdom.

The success of Chinese schools is precisely because the ministry does not pay much attention to them. The oppressiveness of the ministry’s control inhibits any innovation, a lesson those bureaucrats have yet to learn.

We should enhance and replicate the successes of Chinese schools. These schools should go out of their way to attract even more non-Chinese, especially Malays. They should have Malay parents serve on the board or otherwise involved with the school, and have many more Malay teachers to serve as role models. They could also make the schools more “Malay friendly” by serving halal food and teaching Islamic Studies – in Mandarin. They do that in China; use the same texts. That would definitely sell with Malays.

If these national-type Chinese schools become more Malay friendly and succeed in expanding substantially their enrollment beyond the Chinese community, they would then be viewed less as Chinese schools and more as truly national-type schools that happen to use Mandarin as the language of instruction.

Schools must be involved with the community, and vice versa. A generation ago rural schools were involved in adult literacy classes. This conferred two additional benefits. One, it afforded an opportunity for teachers to supplement their income by teaching these classes, and two, it involved the community with the schools. The community then cared about the conditions of the schools as the adults too were attending classes there. Today there is little need for such classes nonetheless we could still use the facilities for adult education to benefit the villagers. This would also reinforce the concept of lifelong learning and enhance the learning culture in the community. There could be classes for cooking and sewing, child and baby care, and hajj preparation. Or there could be extension classes teaching the basics of business or how to become better farmers. The computer labs could also be used after school hours to teach adults. Likewise with the athletic facilities; in my youth it was quite common to have the village soccer team using the school’s playing fields.

Each school should have an adult education division, the Sekolah Lanjutan (Continuing School) of years past. In addition to providing personal enrichment and extension classes, such schools could also provide private classes for nontraditional students to take the national examinations. American schools routinely offer such services.

Schools should be more than just for the children; they should be the focus of the community. The government is building expensive multipurpose halls in various communities, a wasteful duplicative effort. Why not build such facilities on the school ground so both school and community could benefit. Similarly many rural communities now have public libraries, again duplicating the school’s library. Combine both and you have one excellent library that would benefit both school and community.

When the school becomes the center of the community, the community would likely be more involved with the school, to the mutual benefit of both. The only caution would be that such activities and use should not be at the expense of the school. But there are plenty of time after school hours, weekends, and holidays when the community could use the school’s facilities.

Next: Middle School (Years 7, 8 and 9)

Chapter 7: Strengthening the Schools (Cont’d)

Preschool And Primary Years (P-6)

Currently the participation rate for preschool in rural and poor neighborhoods is near zero. These are the very areas that have the greatest needs. Children of the poor are deprived in many regards. Their poverty means that basic health and nutritional needs are often not met. Their parents have limited formal education and thus are not in any position to give intellectual stimulation or help to their children. Schools and education are not their priorities, surviving is. There are many empirical studies linking low educational attainments with poverty and parents’ years of formal schooling. This has been observed in many countries and various cultures. Malaysia is no exception.

Fortunately this seemingly intractable cycle can be broken through effective and enlightened policies. In America, successful Head Start programs like the Perry Preschool Project in Michigan showed that early interventions help even those with below normal IQs. In Malaysia special privileges have been remarkably effective in reducing the gap in educational attainment of Malays versus non-Malays. Further, the expected dropout rates between Malays and non-Malays have narrowed considerably directly as a consequence of special privileges. Such findings should embolden policymakers to expand the program aggressively and to enhance its efficacy.

I would not interfere with private preschools. On the contrary I would encourage their growth through tax incentives and facilitating the issuance of permits by minimizing the red tape. Nor should MOE interfere with their curriculum, let each school set its own. This would encourage innovation. MOE should monitor to make sure that it is safe and that no criminals are running the school or that it is being set up near a dumpsite.

I would integrate preschool with primary school and lower the age of entry to four years, especially in poor and rural neighborhoods. These deprived children would then have two years of preschool prior to entering Primary 1, to compensate for their disadvantaged background. I would also integrate nutritional and health services into the schools. Nutritional services include breakfasts, snacks, and lunches similar to America’s school lunch program.

Studies in America show that even at the preschool we are already seeing differences in the readiness for learning in these youngsters, and that such differences linger throughout their school years. These differences relate to age, sex, race, ethnicity, and most important, socioeconomic status (SES). The most significant finding is that when SES is kept constant, the differences due to race and ethnicity disappear. Such insights should emboldened our policymakers to ensure that those from disadvantaged backgrounds be given compensatory superior opportunities and facilities.

I would experiment with various demonstration models to deal with the problems of rural and poor schoolchildren. In America, CES, with its emphasis on small schools and group teaching, has been remarkably successful in tough inner cities. Similarly Catholic schools, with their emphasis on strict discipline and the basics, have proved equally successful.

A more novel approach is military school. It turns out that for many, strict regimentation is exactly what they need to overcome the frequent lack of authority figure at home. Chicago and Oakland, California, now have such schools and are very successful. The spick and span uniform and sense of belonging are effective antidotes to the unruly and violent gang culture outside the campus. One of these models may well be what children in poor rural Malaysia would need.

I would also have regular visits by the school nurse and dental hygienist. A survey in relatively affluent Santa Clara County, California, revealed a high percentage of school children with visual, medical and dental problems that could potentially interfere with their learning.

Imagine what the situation would be in rural Malaysia. Problems like dental cavities and infected gums not only interfere with good health but also learning. As US Surgeon General Jocelyn Elders once remarked, “You can’t educate a child who is not healthy, and you can’t keep a child healthy who isn’t educated.”

When I was in primary school during colonial times, there was a special room designated for the dental hygienist and school nurse. I even had one of my teeth pulled out by her! By integrating medical and dental care into the school, problems could be detected much earlier and thus be more effectively treated. Further, these children could be taught simple personal hygiene like brushing teeth daily, washing both hands before eating (Malays eat with the right hand, often that is the only hand washed), and the wearing of footwear at all times to prevent worm infestations. This may not necessarily be a pair of expensive Nike shoes as cheap wooden sandals would be just as effective. Additionally, these children could be taught simple public health rules like sleeping under the mosquito net at night, and simple food hygiene like eating only well-cooked and well-washed foods. Dengue is endemic in Malaysia, and having schoolchildren wear long-sleeve shirts or blouses and long pants or ankle-length skirts and sarongs would reduce the incidence of mosquito bites, the risk factor for the disease. Such a uniform would also satisfy their parents’ Islamic sensitivity! These children could also be taught simple rules of road safety. Everyday we read of children being struck down by traffic.

By having trained medical personnel making regular visits, clusters of illnesses with potential public health ramifications like lead poisoning and measles could be detected much earlier. In poor areas I would introduce the local equivalent of Bolsa Escola, where parents would be paid for keeping their children in school. This would be far more effective in reducing rural poverty and simultaneously elevating the educational attainment of the students. It would also send a clear and dramatic message to rural parents on the importance of schooling.

During British rule, bright Malay pupils from poor families were given scholarships in the amount of RM20 to RM40 per month, depending on their grade level. Those were substantial sums, equivalent to the purchasing power today of RM80-160. They had to maintain certain scholastic achievements to receive the money. In addition, if they lived far away from school they also had free room and board at the school’s hostel.
The program, as expected, was expensive but the British were smart enough to be selective, targeting only bright but poor pupils. Again because the program was expensive, it was not extensive, so the incentive value was limited. Rural folks thought it was like winning a lottery and not a genuine reward system. Had it been more widespread, more children would work hard to get it.

For incentives to work they must be both sufficiently rewarding and not too difficult to obtain, that is, both expensive and expansive. Too small a reward and people would not be motivated, and too few winners and people will dismiss it as mere luck or crapshoot. Casino operators know this psychology very well.

On the other hand if everyone were rewarded, then the incentive or motivating value would be lost. When I was in Sixth Form every Malay student including children of the rich received a stipend plus free tuition and boarding. This is still the situation with residential schools and matrikulasi. Such indiscriminate munificence is not only expensive and wasteful but also loses its motivating allure.

In addition to providing incentives, we must also ensure that schools are attractive, safe, and conducive to learning. They must have adequate and well-trained teachers. To achieve this we must give rural allowances to entice good teachers. We should also provide quarters to encourage them to live in and contribute to the community. Unlike my parents in days of yore, teachers and headmasters posted to rural schools today live away in the towns and commute. They do not have the opportunities to mix and interact with the children and their parents after school hours. This reduces considerably their effectiveness. The community too loses.

Next: Preschool and Primary Years (P-6) Cont’d

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)

Chapter 6: Attempts At Reforms

Risks To Reform

Changing the status quo is always a formidable challenge; I do not underestimate the power of inertia. Would-be reformers, past and present, have met less-than-benign fate. Reforming an institution like Malaysian education with its powerful symbolism would be doubly daunting.

The essential ingredients for reform are already there – widespread dissatisfaction with and evident failures of the current system. Society demands that something be done, and the leaders too are recognizing this. While there is general consensus that something must be done, there is no agreement on either what ails the system or what are the objectives of reform. While all agree that the system ought to prepare the young for the increasingly competitive world and simultaneously foster national unity, beyond that there is considerable disagreement.
The divisions are along two broad camps. One side feels that the problem with the current system is that we are not sufficiently committed to its objectives and methods. Their remedy then is simply more of the same, but with more vigorous implementation. The other camp feels just as strongly that there is something radically wrong with the present system both in its objectives and methods that nothing short of a major overhaul would do.

The issue is further compounded by the fact that the primary mission of education is entangled with other societal goals. Language nationalists would like the system to not only maintain the supremacy of Malay but also to suppress the use of other languages, especially English because of its imperial association. These nationalists would not be satisfied until the nation is completely and exclusively monolingual.

It is this juvenile mindset, ensconced primarily at such places as
DBP and Malay Studies departments of public universities, which led to the defacing of non-Malay signs at highways and airports in days of yore. To these insular types, knowing any other language but Malay is tantamount to an act of treason. The good news is that these groups are fast receding into the fringes as more Malaysians, Malays in particular, are becoming more rational.

Few as these dissenters are, I do not estimate their ability to create mischief or grab the headlines. The lead editor of Dewan Bahasa, flagship publication of DBP, characterized the recent controversy on using English to teach science and mathematics as “language war!” Meanwhile its director, one Deraman Aziz, was loudly threatening to collect a million signatures to oppose the wider use of English. He quickly disavowed his participation when he was none too subtly reminded of his civil service obligations. Obviously the security of his plush civil service job has priority over his nationalistic zeal.

Malay politicians see education as a huge patronage system. All those juicy building contracts, textbook publishing, and yes, even catering services are viewed less as means of helping the young but more as tunnels to the public trough. Reform education if you must, but keep those spigots flowing! Similarly quotas in education are a security blanket for the less-than-talented. Again, reform if you must, but disturb those quota at your political peril.

To the Islamists, education is nothing more than to prepare Muslims for the Hereafter, the present world be damned. Malaysian-Chinese meanwhile are obsessed with their self-appointed role as defenders of their mother tongue. Never mind that in China the top universities are now using English or that those most vocal in opposing the extended use of English are sending their children abroad to Anglo Saxon countries. You can bet that those youngsters would not be taking up Chinese Studies there.

With such differing and conflicting perspectives, little wonder that education gets sucked into the maelstrom. As with any reform, the promised benefits would remain only a potential and be diffused. Meanwhile the casualties and costs would be direct and felt right away, and be concentrated on and borne by a few and definable groups. Emphasizing English would benefit all students together with enhancing the nation’s competitiveness, but that is only a potential. Meanwhile the price would be borne by those who have invested heavily in the present system – Malay language nationalists and the current establishment. Those who will bear the pain would be expected to be very vocal in their resistance, and will do their utmost to magnify and amplify the difficulties.

I anticipate the greatest obstacle to come from the current education establishment, especially those in the ministry and the ruling party who have benefited immensely at the expense of young Malaysians. Also included in this group is the entire civil service brought up under the present all-Malay system. These civil servants would be even more emboldened now that their older and English-fluent colleagues are retiring. This Malay-educated establishment would not be kindly disposed to any change. They have done well despite their low English fluency and nonexistent mathematical skills; they see little need for change. Rest assured they would do everything to ensure that any reform would fail.

These obvious resistors would be relatively easy to neutralize, as demonstrated by the now compliant Deraman Aziz. More pernicious and dangerous would be the “stealth” oppositionists. They would be formidable opponents because we cannot identify them. They would be conducting insidious guerilla warfare from within. They would do everything within their power to sabotage any change so as to justify their saying in the end, “I told you so!” These include the politically inclined academics, language activists, and Malay teachers who but for their political leanings would not be where they are today.

The cautionary note in all of these is that to ensure that reform would be successful the government must be cognizant of the hidden opposition from the establishment. By this I mean not only senior education ministry officials but also the legends of headmasters and heads of universities. The government must deal quickly with those who not only oppose reform but also not sufficiently committed to it. If they were not made to pay the price for their obstinacy, it would only embolden others. The government has a powerful weapon in that these civil servants and language nationalists have no skills that are valued by the private sector. The mere threat of losing their prized civil service appointments is enough to make them toe the line, as pathetically demonstrated by DBP‘s Deraman Aziz. The government should not hesitate to wield this powerful disciplinary weapon.

There is a hidden yet significant danger to reform that is not widely appreciated or discussed. Education is a powerful symbol in the race politics of Malaysia; reforming it risks rekindling old battles. Many would like nothing more than to take the opportunity to score political points by raising long-settled issues. The danger is that the public, fearful of retracing the divisive path of the past, would simply give up on reform and settle for the mediocre status quo.

The only way to avoid this is to have as wide a debate as possible, with public hearings and input from various individuals and organizations. An open debate is healthy. Besides we will never know where the next bright idea might emerge. The solution to the nation’s myriad education problems does not lie with some esteemed committee of wise persons deliberating in some air-conditioned office away from the hustle and bustle of the classrooms. As we have seen in Chile, the solution lies not in a monolithic prescribed model rather with trying different forms and adapting and enhancing as we go along. Only in such a fashion could the needs of our nation be met.

In the remaining chapters I put forth my own specific ideas on reform. The purpose is not to enumerate my prescriptions rather to start this much-needed public debate.

Next: Chapter 7: Strengthening the Schools

Chapter 7: Atempts At Reforms

Reform in Other Countries

Malaysia is not the only nation contemplating reform of its education system. There is a global movement to make education more responsive and accountable. While reforms in the Third World focus on increasing access and availability of basic education, those in the First World are concerned with enhancing the quality and accountability.

As Malaysia has successfully passed the stage of providing basic education for all, it has little to learn from the reform efforts in Kenya or Papua New Guinea. Malaysia should instead look to the First World. I will examine recent reforms in Chile and California. Chile is not in the First World yet, but it is poised to join its ranks. Developmentally it is at the same stage as Malaysia. California on the other hand is fully developed nonetheless it shares many problems with Malaysia, with both having plural societies and large numbers of non-native English-speaking populations.

In 1980 Chile‘s military government launched a radical reform. Prior to that education in Chile, as in most developing nations, was highly centralized and controlled by a powerful ministry of the central government. It was the usual top-down command structure patterned after the old Soviet Union and replicated in many Third World countries. Surprising for a military government, Chile’s rulers decentralized education, giving administrative responsibility of schools to local governments (“municipalization“), and ending the state monopoly. The government actively sought private sector participation and vigorously encouraged competition between public and private schools. It changed the financing of schools to that of capitation, based on the number of students and their achievements.

For the military mindset that has central command, rigid controls, and strict regimentation as articles of faith, this was a radical departure. These changes in education were in tandem with other reforms in the economy and society the military was instituting at the time. Essentially it dismantled the massive state structure of the previous socialist government and pushed Chile towards an open market. The military was advised by a core of competent economists who were graduates of elite American universities, in particular the University of Chicago that had long championed free enterprise and market solutions to socioeconomic problems. These “Chicago Boys,” as they were admiringly referred to, had been tutored by the likes of Milton Friedman.

Prior to the reform Chile, like Malaysia, already had a fairly high standard of educational attainment, with an average of 9.7 years of formal schooling. Apart from universal primary schooling, the participation rate at secondary level was a high 87 percent; and tertiary, 26 percent.

Chile’s military government dismantled the entire system: administration, financing, and accountability. In the process the government broke the powerful stranglehold of the teachers’ union that had grown immensely under the previous socialist administration. Schools were no longer under the control of the central government rather municipalities.

The union had to negotiate not with one central ministry but with hundreds of local bargaining units, thereby effectively emasculating the union’s power. Remarkably, the government did not meddle with the curriculum, pedagogy, or teaching. It left such professional and technical matters to the teachers and educators.

The previous state monopoly on education was dismantled. Some schools are now entirely private, receiving no state funding whatsoever; others are private-public partnership and get public funding through capitation. National examinations are now used not only to assess the students but also to grade the schools. This information on school performance is made readily available to parents, thus empowering them to make meaningful decisions on where to send their children.

Today Chile‘s parents truly have meaningful choices, and they are exercising them. By 1998 over 34 percent of the parents chose subsidized private schools, while about 10 percent chose pure private ones.

During the first decade of reform primary enrolment continued at near universal level, with secondary and tertiary enrolments jumping sharply from 65 and 11 percent respectively in 1980, to 87 and 28 percent by 1997. Impressive! The dropout rate too declined dramatically, from a high of 8.0 percent in1981 to 1.6 percent in 1997 at primary level; and from 8.3 percent in 1981 to 5.8 in 1997 for secondary. Even more impressive!

The reforms initiated by the military were dictated from above, with little consultation from the masses – typical of the military mentality. Remarkably when military rule ended in1989, the succeeding civilian government did not dismantle these reforms; instead it refined and enhanced them.

The central lesson from Chile is decentralization. Authority and responsibility are shifted away from the distant central government to the political entity closest to the people. The central government no longer micromanages the schools; it does not dictate what and how to teach nor prescribe the textbooks. Those are left to individual schools and their professionals. The government maintains influence and control through macro levers in the form of capitation funding, open competition, and general market philosophy of openness and accountability. It also uses these elements to bring about changes in the schools. School performances are now monitored and the results released to the public, thus ensuring accountability.

The second lesson is that government can affect profound changes without resorting to micromanagement and other details of control. There are enough macro levers such as the funding mechanism and assessment feedbacks to prod these schools in the desired direction.

Third, equity does not mean the delivery of the same package of goods and services to all rather the system must be flexible and adaptable to respond to the needs of diverse groups. The role of the government should be properly focused on those most vulnerable or left out. For example, the government introduced school meals for the poorest 10 percent of the student population. In the past, the central government could not effect these changes as it was involved in running thousands of other institutions that could run themselves very well. By husbanding its resources and focusing its efforts, the ministry was able to help more effectively those who were truly in need.

The Chilean reform shifted the focus of government away from directly managing and controlling the schools to providing general guidelines and broad parameters. The actual administration and running of the schools are left to the local level, accountable directly to the parents.

A similar “top-down” reform was also successfully enacted in California, but within the context of a political system the exact opposite of a military dictatorship. Yet the results were just as profound and effective.

California is the most diverse state in the union. A significant proportion of its children come from families where English is not spoken, a situation similar to Malaysia. Educating and integrating these diverse groups are truly formidable tasks. In the past California like other states used bilingual education to bring these children into the mainstream. Children were first taught in their native language while English was being gradually introduced. As their facility in English improved, other subjects would then be taught in English until these students were fully integrated into the mainstream. This philosophy is subscribed to by the American educational establishment, which claims that this is the most effective way to teach and reach these children.

The reality was far different. These children often felt left out and marginalized. They did not learn much; their test scores were atrocious and dropout rates horrendous. When these children grew up they became a burden on society. Their lack of basic educational skills rendered them essentially unemployable. Mostly the burden fell heavily on themselves and their families. They were trapped in a permanent underclass by their lack of quality education. As usual, such social frustrations built up slowly, but once they erupted, it was difficult to contain.

In California, parents fed up with the poor performance of their children started a grass-root movement to abolish bilingual education. They were led by leading figures in the immigrant community who had as children successfully opted out of bilingual education to join the mainstream after a brief immersion period of studying English. Employers equally fed up with the poor quality of workers their companies had to contend with, in turn supported these parents.

Their efforts culminated in the passage of Proposition 227 in 1998 that effectively legislated an end to bilingual education in California. Now children with limited English proficiency have to take English immersion class for a maximum of one year, and then they would be placed into regular classes.

The campaign leading to the referendum was highly divisive and rancorous. Opponents of the initiative feared that these children would not be able to cope with the sudden introduction of English and thus would be forced to drop out. Supporters on the other hand were variously labeled as anti-immigrants and racists. They in turn accused the other side of wanting to trap children of immigrants in perpetual mediocrity. All of course professed to have the children’s best interest at heart!

The current equally contentious debate on the use of English to teach science and mathematics in Malaysia eerily reminds me of that earlier nasty California experience.

The results of that forced field experiment are now obvious. Within the first few months, teachers immediately began noticing a remarkable transformation. The children were no longer dropping out; their attendance improved markedly, and they were learning much more rapidly. Improvements were noted in all age groups. Test scores in one school district jumped from the 11th percentile to the 23rd by the first year. A doubling of improvement! By the third year it had jumped to the 32nd. Even more remarkable than improved test scores was the progress on the ground level. The students loved speaking English, they actually enjoyed learning. Their teachers were ecstatic! On the playgrounds these children were even more confident and mixed more freely with native English-speaking children. They now had “one-up” over their classmates who could speak only English. This tremendously enhanced their self-esteem and confidence, which spilled over to their other classroom performances.

Such dramatic results made converts of those who previously favored bilingual education into boosters of English immersion classes.

Did such successes settle the issue once and for all? Far from it! For one, at the same time the proposition was passed California also mandated class size reduction and introduced phonics teaching of English (the sounding of letters and syllables). While previously the average class was in excess of 30 students, today they are less than 20, and English was taught using the whole language method. Presumably all three – small classes, phonics teaching, and immersion classes – helped.

Meanwhile proponents of bilingual education in other states also introduced new innovative models. In Texas, the Houston school district in collaboration with Rice University set up a pioneering school using English and Spanish in tandem throughout the school years, a new twist to the old bilingual program. Thus far Rice School/La Escuela Rice offers only K-8 levels, and already it is wildly successful such that entry is by lottery, and slots for children of Rice faculty members are limited to 12 percent. The unique features of the school are its small class size, and extensive use of electronics, computers, and the Internet.

In addition to these two major initiatives, there were other small reform movements started by businesses, political activists, parents, and educators. Earlier I alluded to Louis Gerstner‘s New Century School funded by a private foundation. It gave grants directly to teachers and schools to pursue their own demonstration projects; these would later be shared with others. Not all their projects were successful.

Among the successes were Park View Elementary school in Mooresville, NC, that experimented with extended-day and year round programs; Ortega Elementary School in Austin, TX, a school with predominantly minority students, with its parenting classes to attract greater parental involvement with the school; and another also in North Carolina of creating schools near where the parents work.

The Annenberg Foundation also generously funded a number of demonstration projects nationwide under its Annenberg Challenge. These enabled teachers and educators to pursue their ideas on how best to improve their public schools. Among the lessons learned, as published in its Lessons and Reflections on Pubic School Reform, are that every child benefits from high expectations and standards, and that the surest way to improve student achievement is to enhance the skills of their teachers. Professional development of teachers is the key to better schools. Additionally schools need strong leadership not only in the classrooms but also at the principal’s office, the governing board, and at the ministry. There must also be mechanism to help teachers and pupils get to know each other better. The best and simplest way of achieving this is to make schools small or to divide existing large schools into smaller independent units. One recommendation that is relevant to Malaysian rural schools is that such schools must form networks for mutual support and to learn from each other. Lastly, schools must remain accountable and this accountability must be demonstrated in measurable and tangible ways.

The political activists were involved with charter schools and vouchers to enable poor children to attend good schools outside their neighborhood. One reform movement started by teachers is the Coalition of Essential Schools (CES). This is the most successful in terms of its ideas being accepted nationwide.

I will refer back to these examples in enumerating my reform proposals. The lesson here is that there are many paths to reform and that the different models when carefully thought out and thoughtfully implemented work equally well. We need to start small with few demonstration projects, iron out the kinks, and once they are proven successful, then and then only expand them. Our children are too precious to risk taking part in massive, half-baked social engineering experiments. There must also be a willingness to assess and improve as we go along. A perfect system does not remain so forever. It needs constant improvement and enhancement to meet ever-changing conditions and experiences. The most important lesson of all is that there is no panacea; nor is there a magic wand that one can simply wave and wish the problems away.

Next: Risks to Reforms

Chapter 6: Attempts At Reforms (Cont’d)

National Brains Trust Report 2002

Less than a year after the release of Education Development 2001-2010, a high-level committee, dubbed the National Brains Trust, released its report, Master Plan for the Knowledge-Based Economy. It contains 136 recommendations, of which 64 relate to human resources, and half of that (32) concern education. I will discuss those 32 recommendations, but first some comments on the committee.

It was led by one Nordin Sopiee, a London School of Economics PhD and head of a government think tank. He is more widely remembered as the man who took a full-page newspaper ad supporting Prime Minister Mahathir following US Vice President Al Gore‘s intemperate remarks during a state dinner supporting the refomasi movement. Prudent thing to do as his organization is dependent on the government for funding. More importantly, at that infamous dinner Nordin Sopiee was seen to applaud the vice president. Thus to local cynics, Nordin’s widely publicized action in taking out the ad was seen more as a crass display of bodek (sucking up to the powerful). His committee of 68 luminaries (some reports claimed 95; a committee member could not tell me the exact number) was widely lauded in the media.

The report is like other official papers – dry, more like a recipe book. There is little discussion of background information or references to primary sources and experiences of other countries. It correctly highlights the recent steady decline in the nation’s competitiveness. It stood at 17 in 1997, but slipped to 41 in the latest ranking (2001). While other factors certainly contribute to this precipitous slide, the report makes no references to them. Instead it focuses primarily on the inadequacies of the education system. In this the report is hardly comprehensive.

It makes scant reference to the evident decline of Malaysian universities. I am told that there would be a recommendation for yet another committee to look specifically at higher education. The only suggestion it has for universities is that they should review the salary scheme of its junior lecturers. Even here the committee is missing the mark. Our universities need to improve the pay of its academic staff at all levels.

One recommendation beyond education that caught my eye is for allowing local companies to import top talent, that is, foreigners earning in excess of RM20,000 per month should be given automatic work visa. I would go further; I would grant them permanent status. For these highly talented individuals, the demand for their skills is truly global. Malaysia must be willing to pay competitive salaries to attract them. While I applaud the committee for making this sensible recommendation, the committee then undermines this by putting a limit to the number of such individuals a company could hire. Surely if we value them, then more is better. Why the restrictions? The committee could not escape its parochialism in protecting Malaysians in these high-paying jobs. Malaysians with that kind of talent do not need such protection. The challenge is to entice them to remain at home.

The report rightly highlights the mediocre pay for teachers. Although Malaysian teachers earn as much as their American counterpart relative to the per capita GDP, the more important indicator is how well they are paid relative to other professions. When a tour guide or a fish hawker earns considerably more, then we have a problem. In Malaysia (and also in America) this is manifested by the fact that the profession no longer attracts the best and talented. With low pay comes low status.

In my The Malay Dilemma Revisited, I referred to Lat’s cartoons to illustrate this point. One sketch of a 1950s’ scene showed a schoolteacher in his sleek car, with a father and son looking on admiringly by the roadside. The next scene was of more recent vintage, and it showed a father driving his son to school in an expensive sedan, and forcing the schoolteacher, who was riding a decrepit motorcycle, off the road!

The report calls for across the board salary hikes. That would be laudable but prohibitively expensive. Instead Malaysia should have targeted increases to attract those with the most-needed skills: teachers of English, science, and mathematics. With a glut of teachers for Malay and Islamic Studies there is no point in increasing their pay. Even if we reduce it, there will be no shortage of applicants.

The committee is enamored with IT, and calls for bridging the digital divide by 2010. In its infatuation with computers the committee ignores other more glaring divide separating rural from urban schools – poor physical facilities and lack of quality teachers. To me these should be the highest priority, ahead of supplying IT. Many rural schools do not even have electricity, how can they have computers? Many still have double sessions, dilapidated libraries, and inadequate laboratories. I would fix those first.

The committee recommends that schools be provided with a manager to take care of the administrative chores thus freeing the headmaster to pay attention to professional and educational issues. I agree, provided that the manager is answerable to the headmaster and not to some bureaucrat in the ministry.

Another of its recommendations is that teachers at the secondary and upper primary levels be degree holders. I would settle for teachers only at the upper secondary level to be graduates. For others, a good teaching diploma should suffice. I would upgrade the quality of teachers’ colleges; this would be better and more cost effective way of enhancing the quality of teaching, rather than insisting that teachers have a degree. That would end up diluting the quality of our universities by diverting them to train the massive number of teachers. Look at America where former teachers’ colleges are now universities.

Today a graduate teacher from a local university has less professional skills and knowledge than a diploma-trained teacher from Kirby or Brinsford Lodge of the 1950s. It would be better and more effective to upgrade the teaching diploma than to cheapen a degree.

A major disappointment with the Brains Trust report is that it barely scratches the surface of the monumental problems facing Malaysian education. It does not address the basic problems of our institutions being tightly controlled by the ministry, with no room for them to grow professionally or develop their excellence and expertise.

Next: Reform in Other Countries

Chapter 6: Attempts At Reforms (Cont’d)

Education Development 2001-2010

In October 2001, MOE released a 250-page document, Pembangunan Pendidikan 20001-2010: Rancangan Bersepadu Penjana Cemerlangan Pendidikan (Education Development 2010-2010: Plan for Unity Through Educational Excellence – my translation). It was a comprehensive look at the system, from preschool to tertiary institutions. The ministry described it with such words as “sweeping,” “radical,” and
“revolutionary.”

For a document that is supposed to be the basis for wide public discussion on such an important issue, it was strangely not widely distributed. My attempts at getting a copy were unsuccessful. Supposedly it was out of print, only a few months after its release. No bookstore carries it. Nor is the document available on the ministry’s website, which is not surprising as that website is more show than a meaningful mechanism for the dissemination of information. An opposition politician too claimed that he was unable to secure a copy. The minister himself was strangely uninterested to discuss the report publicly or give it wide coverage.

More perplexing was the media; none covered the report extensively. The exception, the publication Education Quarterly, did an excellent job summarizing it. Regardless, that document was soon made irrelevant by subsequent developments, in particular the decision to teach mathematics and science in English, and the National Brains Trust Report. Still, as Education Development represents the thinking of ministry officials, it is worthwhile to review it if for nothing else than to get a glimpse of their mindset.

As is typical of many official documents and policy statements, Education Development is full of lofty ideas and the prerequisite current buzzwords like “globalization,” “knowledge workers,” and “IT.” But it offers precious few details. Nor does it address, despite its promising subtitle, how to stem the rapidly declining standards and increasing segregation of our schools and universities. The report is prominent for its lack of innovative ideas to tackle such glaring issues as the lack of IT workers, and the low English fluency, scientific literacy, and mathematical competency of our students. It bravely puts a target of 60 percent of secondary school students to be in the science and technical streams, but offers precious little guidance on how to get there. These goals have been stated many times before; no special insight is needed to recognize the problem, the genius lies with providing the solution. The document offers none.

One of its ambitious goals is to build a community college in every parliamentary district. That is as ambitious as it is expensive. There is no clear definition of the mission of such colleges. Are they meant, as in America, to provide a channel for adult and re-entry students, to cater for those unable to make it into the universities the first time around, or to produce workers with marketable skills and specialized training? What I fear is that these colleges will issue yet another set of diplomas that would be worthless in the marketplace. That would be a disaster, especially after expectations have been raised so high. We already have a glut of unemployed graduates.

Again, as is typical of the ministry’s pronouncements, there are repeated assertions of the nation’s aspiration of being the center of educational excellence. Fantasy would be more appropriate than aspiration.

The document has one radical suggestion, reducing the school years from 13 to 12, with the format of K-6/2/2/2, and eliminating the current Form 3 examination. This is purportedly to make the system conform to international, in particular American, pattern. As usual, Malaysia is learning the wrong lesson.

While it is true that in America it is K-12, what Malaysian officials fail to note is that the vast majority of Americans go on to postsecondary institutions. With the wide availability of junior colleges, two years of college is now the norm. There is a movement to make that the new standard, in recognition of the need for a highly educated workforce to face the global competition. Thus in reality America has a K-14, not K-12 system.

American schools are also making their curriculum more rigorous. Many offer Advanced Placement classes. Mentioned earlier was the experiment by Bard College in collaboration with New York Public School Board that combines the last two years of high school with the first two years of college. In striking contrast, Malaysian schools are “dumbing down” their curriculum. Even leading residential schools like MCKK and TKC do not prepare their students for entry into universities.

Those ministry bureaucrats obviously did not think through their proposal. Presently the plan is bogged down, with the implementation delayed, because officials have not anticipated the obvious problem of the double cohorts of students entering university with the conversion from 13 to 12 years.

The basic message the ministry is sending through its Education Development is wrong. It is saying that Malaysians need fewer years of schooling while in the rest of the world it is just the opposite.

Meritokrasi and The Teaching of Science and Mathematics in English

The year 2002 was a tumultuous one for Malaysian education. Two major decisions – the introduction of meritokrasi (meritocracy) and the teaching of science and mathematics in English – were made almost casually, through executive mandate rather than after wide public discussions and parliamentary debates.

Meritokrasi was meant to improve the quality of education by relying more on academic criteria rather than quotas and special set-aside programs in the selection of students. It is widely acknowledged that many Bumiputra undergraduates would not be there but for special privileges.

Prime Minister Mahathir and other UMNO leaders were becoming increasingly piqued by the behavior of these undergraduates. They expressed their contempt for the government generally and UMNO specifically by actively campaigning for the opposition parties during recent elections. The pivotal moment came when the landmark Chancellor’s Hall on UM was burnt down. There was immediate speculation of arson as the prime minister was scheduled to speak in that auditorium the very next day. To date there has been no satisfactory or official explanation for the fire. The fire department intimated faulty wirings. Few believe that, least of all UMNO leaders who by now could hardly contain their displeasure and anger at the undergraduates. The new head of Puteri (Young Women) UMNO, Azalina Othman, eager to show her stripes, angrily called for the firing of the university’s vice-chancellor, Dr. Annuar Zaini, for failing to “control” the students. This is surprising as Annuar Zaini is a highly qualified and respected academic physician. He is among the few who rose through the academic ranks instead of the usual path of politics and the civil service.

The decision to use merits as the basis for admission was not to enhance the academic standards as widely proclaimed, rather to give those “ungrateful” Bumiputra students their just comeuppance. Thus chastened they would then concentrate more on their studies and would be less interested in politics. Or if they were, they would be more supportive of the government lest they risk losing their cherished special privileges and quotas. At least that was the expectations of the UMNO hierarchy.

Consequently there was much anticipation of the effect of this new policy on the incoming class of 2002. Judging from the statements of UMNO leaders, they were eagerly expecting the shocking news of fewer Bumiputras admitted to universities so UMNO leaders could browbeat those students. “See, if not for us guarding your special privileges, you Bumiputras would not stand a chance!”

Come June when the figures were released, there were gasps of astonishment. The number of Bumiputras admitted under the new merit-based criteria increased, not dropped. To those who think that Malays are dumb (this includes many among UMNO leaders), that shocking news was not expected. One would have thought that there would be hearty messages of congratulations to these students for having done well. Instead there were snide remarks that the process was rigged. How else to explain the success of Malays?

Although I expected such remarks from non-Malays–after all they too needed some rationalization for their less than expected outcome – what stunned me was the disbelief among Malays leaders. The Prime Minster who long championed the cause of Malays went so far as to claim that it was a statistical quirk and that it would not happen again.

Not once did he applaud the students for having done well. Instead he and many others went out of their way to deride and belittle the students’ achievements. Some suggested that because most Malay students entered through matrikulasi while non-Malays through Sixth Form, the former must be of lower standard. Their presumption is that Malays are dumb; so matrikulasi must be easier.

As stated earlier, I believe matrikulasi is a watered-down program, but do not blame the students; blame those who run the program and the bureaucrats who juggled the scores. Meanwhile I heartily congratulate those hard working Malay students who have done well and thus surprised their leaders. May you have continued success, even though your leaders may lack faith in you. Prove them wrong again!

For now meritokrasi stays, the government’s weapon to bludgeon the students effectively neutralized. Those “ungrateful” Malay students have yet to be punished.

The second decision, to use English to teach science and mathematics, had a similar seat-of-the-pants quality to the decision making process. One would have thought that such a radical change would have been undertaken only after meticulous and exhaustive study. We are dealing with the future of our young, something not to be taken lightly. Instead the decision was rushed. The matter was discussed at UMNO Supreme Council meetings, and only minimally in the cabinet. There was no parliamentary debate. Despite howling protests from various groups, the decision stayed. Instead of engaging its many critiques, the government threatened to use the Internal Security Act to silence them.

Yet legitimate questions remain, like the availability of competent teachers and suitable textbooks. These are simply brushed aside. The leaders have spoken and it shall be so. The magic wand has been waved, and all problems will miraculously vanish. The plan is to be implemented in January 2003, but as late as November 2002 the final form and manner has yet to be finalized. Initially it is to begin at Primary 1 and at selected secondary levels, but with protests from Chinese-based political parties, that timetable is now under review.

The authorities had numerous meetings to iron out the kinks. It is instructive that none of these meetings involved teachers or educators. The issue had been discussed entirely in the political arena, indicating that the decision had less to do with education and everything to do with politics.

The rationale of the policy is valid: to enhance the scientific knowledge and mathematical competency of students and at the same encourage the wider use of English. But as presently implemented, and without much prior planning and preparation, the policy will, like the decision to introduce meritokrasi, back fire.

These two initiatives prove that momentous decisions can be made within the constraints of the present framework; there is no need to amend the constitution or have Royal Commissions of Inquiry. Whether these essentially wise decisions will achieve their intended results remain to be seen. I await their implementation.

Next: National Brains Trust Report 2002