Exhausted children lured on by success

Press, 24 April 1986, Page 14

Exhausted children lured on by success

Attending a school with a good ranking may mean a trip across town; or, in the case of a small town, daily train travel to a nearby city. For a sizeable number of pupils, formal classwork does not end with the final bell at 3.30 p.m. As well as homework, extra evening or week-end classes may be squeezed in for the pupil whose parents can afford fees. Official figures suggest that 40 per cent of Japanese schoolchildren attend the extra “juku” classes. The proportion of private school students who go to juku was as high as 95 per cent in some classrooms I visited. Many juku teachers operate out of their homes. We met a number of English-speaking foreigners who, because of the demand for language tuition, found juku teaching a lucrative moneyspinner. Few had any teaching experience. School authorities accept the juku phenomenon as inevitable, but worry about teachers who moonlight as juku tutors and then turn up tired and ill-pre-pared for their regular classes next day. Parents who send their children to juku were ambivalent about the exercise. “I don’t like the system, but in the end I can see my children gaining an advantage,” says Etsuji Yokoyama. His three children, the youngest aged seven, all attend juku classes. I went with Akito Ono to her English juku class one evening. The 20 pupils, ranging from primary to university level, meet three evenings a week for twohour sessions. Akito also attends a juku class in maths three times a week. Although English is not taught in schools until pupils reach junior high, at about age 13, many parents enrol younger children in juku classes to give them a head start. They know that the English examination is a key component in the competition to enter the best schools, universities, and jobs.

Ironically, the Japanese juku teacher himself spoke very little English. In Japan, that is no handicap to English teaching. Except for some of the private schools, where courses in “conversation English” are offered, most pupils learn only to read and write in English. 1 The technicalities of English grammar and sentence construction are drilled to a depth well beyond that attempted in New Zealand secondary school classrooms today. At the end of the process, the Japanese teen-ager has had a thorough grounding in parts of speech, parsing, and participles, but has difficulty recognising the spoken version of the English he or she can read or write. As an aside, it was interesting to see a reference to “New Zealand English” in the ninth grade text used ini schools. The text explained that compared with American English, New Zealanders pronounce “ay” sounds, as in “today,” as “ie” sounds, as in “to die.” To illustrate the potential for disastrous misinterpretation in the South Seas, the book gave the following

example of New Zealand English: “I am going to the hospital ° to die.” Teaching methods favoured by juku teachers were similar to — those observed in regular Japanese classrooms. In both cases, - “chalk and talk” are the standard teaching tools. The rote learning style, where the teacher provides information for the children to memorise, is a convenient device for large classes. It is also well suited to the needs ; of Japanese primary schools, where the attainment of literacy is the principal task. This involves the memorising of complicated Chinese characters — 1850 Kanji characters is re- ■. garded as acceptable literacy for “ an adult As well, children must memorise three other syllabar- ’’ ies, for grammar, for foreign a borrowed words, and for writing ■ Japanese words in the English J alphabet. >

This early emphasis on rote learning never diminishes. It is the standard teaching technique in high schools, and in those juku classes that specialise in "cramming”; memorising the answers to likely examination questions. The most determined advocate for de-emphasising rote learning that I met was a businessman, not a teacher. Toshimasa Schimuzu, plant manager for the giant Teijin textile works in Mihara, expressed disappointment with the standard of graduates his company was employing. “We must compete in a fiercely competitive market,” he said. “We employ the so-called finest products of our education system, graduates from the best schools and universities. Yet for them to succeed in the school system, they must learn to be obedient and to conform. In our business, being able to follow instructions is not enough. We need people with original ideas who can think for themselves.” Because the qualities of obedience and conformity are highly valued in Japanese society, Mr Shimizu’s views on education mark him as more liberal than most. For the parents and pupils we met, Issues of teaching methods were of secondary concern. Surviving the relentless pressure and demands of examination competition is their biggest worry. Those that defend the existing system point to the undeniable achievements made. Despite the heavy workload and stress, discipline is generally good, and tough examinations mean the top end standard is high. In relation to students in other countries, Japanese pupils consistently out-’ perform them in standardised tests of literacy and numeracy. One could be forgiven for thinking that Japanese education has a powerful Jekyll and Hyde quality about it —■ the best and the worst features somehow coexist in the one system. One thing is certain: doing something about the worst features will be a long, slow process. Changes in education do not come easily; everyone seems to have a vested interest in what schools are doing. In Japan, that adds up to 110 million opinions.

English, the N.Z. way

Obedience and conformity