Our entire lives we are programmed to think as individuals.
...
I would like to take a moment for everyone to process the irony inherent in that sentence.
...
Yes, it is something we find amusing, once we catch on... I am reminded of Monty Python's Life of Brian, in which a play on this very concept is one of the more funny and memorable moments in the film:
"You are ALL INDIVIDUALS!"
"We are all individuals..."
"You are all different!"
"We are all different..."
(a single voice, sotto voce) "I'm not..."
Yes, hilarious. A very witty joke. I think so too, don't get me wrong.
As a new member of the Israeli education system, however, I find myself re-evaluating a great many things. How can we promote individuality in a system that is designed to produce homogeneous results? In a system where success is judged by grades, numbers, rankings and test-taking abilities? Even worse, why do we expect that people will come out of this environment, after twelve years (an even two thirds of their lives), with the natural and inherent ability to be creative, resourceful, intelligent, and to have the wisdom to make their own decisions?
This is, of course, not limited to the Israeli system specifically. But I find myself in the unique position of being a player in two different worlds... and it is this knowledge base that I would like to now use to my advantage.
I look back on my high school experience as having taken place in a very heterogeneous environment. I graduated with an academic honors diploma; AP (advanced placement, college credit) courses; participation in musical/theatrical/artistic events; a 3.6 grade point average. To name but a few. This paved the way for the choices I was to make afterward: a five-year, dual-degree university program, ten times dean's list, cum laude graduate... and all of this after a year of post-high school academic experimentation and exploratory thinking in a different country.
Others who attended high school alongside me, friends and acquaintances, remember it differently. Perhaps a regular diploma; Science Olympiad; sports activities; a grade point average somewhere in the 2.0 region. Again, to name but a few. In no way am I trying to indicate that these choices are inferior to my own. On the contrary, the majority of the people with whom I have stayed in touch are leading happy, fulfilled lives. Each one of them has chosen a path and is doing things that he or she finds meaningful and important. In some cases raising families, in other cases working, in yet other cases continuing or having continued to advance degrees... but the point is that each one of us has made choices. We have all decided from a myriad of options. And that has shaped who we are today.
It is from this that I draw the following conclusion. What is the key to individuality? AGENCY.
I am now eight years out of high school. What do I remember?
Do I remember how to do trigonometry? Or the capital of Singapore? Or the name of the battle that sparked the American Civil War? Maybe. Probably not. But my strongest memories are those which applied to me directly. A powerful social network, an personalized academic environment, extra-curricular
activities, and so forth.
I look back to the day I graduated from eighth grade, at almost fourteen years old. This was it. High school -- the time to move on, to develop, a fresh start, an opportunity for growth, a sense of responsibility. I began to receive scads of glossy paper in the mail... Shani, decide your future! Shani, choose your path! Shani, the time is NOW!
Among other things to find their way to my doorstep that year, I received a hefty booklet listing all of the available courses at the high school, complete with instructions. There were, of course, requirements: for an academic honors diploma, three years of science, four years of math, four years of English, etc; for a regular diploma, fewer academic responsibilities. Within that framework, however, I was able to craft my own class schedule. Beyond the appropriate placement in the required classes, such as geometry vs. algebra vs. calculus or biology vs. chemistry vs. physics, there were elective classes such as choirs, sports teams, art classes, study halls; and elective "academic" courses such as crime fiction, film literature, creative writing, poetry, organic chemistry, and five or six different languages. Each course had its own time, its own block, its own room, and the choices -- after initial fulfillment of the basic requirements, of course -- were all my own.
I remember this as a huge, monumental part of my high school experience. The hours I spent with my friends on the phone, debating, discussing, deciding... coordinating schedules, discussing the virtues of one English class over another, of Algebra 1 over honors Algebra 1, and so forth. Why did we take such pains to determine our high school choices? After all, this is school-related... not something that most teenagers would choose to think about to such lengths during their summer vacation. But I came to the conclusion, eventually, that it was all a question of agency. I was taking my high school education into my own hands, and allowing myself to build something that fit me personally, within the bounds of what was demanded of me by the surrounding system.
Upon observing the classrooms where I currently teach, however, I find that student involvement in their own decisions is shockingly minimal by comparison. First of all, the system of "home classes" (replete with its own advantages, to be sure) creates a very problematic learning environment. Contrary to the -- in this case, American -- system, where each teacher has his or her own room where they wait for each student to arrive for the start of class (allowing the teacher to gain control more easily, and of course, to prep lessons/classes in advance, decorate with appropriate materials, and the like -- an all around sense of control of the space), the students here control the learning environment... and after the sound of the bell, the teacher arrives on their turf, a "guest" in their habitat, to try and regain authority and control over his or her students. This creates a very basic but still wildly problematic power struggle between teacher and students.
Furthermore, the physical act of getting up and moving to a different room, even for three minutes at a time (the legal passing period at my middle school, for example), is enough to clear any American student's head, mentally prepare for a change of subject, change of scene, even change of classmates (a point that I believe is critical and that I will return to later on). Israeli students, placed all day in the same room, sometimes with absolutely no break between subjects, are not given the luxury of three minutes to clear their heads, go to the bathroom, have a drink of water, or anything else they may feel that they need during this time. They sit by the same other students all day long, they have beside them their backpacks with all the books and materials necessary for the entire day, and besides a few recesses in between blocks of classes, they are essentially prisoners -- albeit on their own turf, as we established earlier -- until they are free to leave at the end of the day.
Even beyond these problems, however -- which, I admit, have little to do with agency, but provide the background I need for the following claims -- there is a basic problem with the Israeli system that I believe lays the groundwork for the lack of agency I am finding in Israeli students. Because of the "home class" system, the only classification/categorization of Israeli students is one based on age. (As a note, I would like to mention here that this becomes slightly less true the older the students are -- the existence of the bagrut subject qualifying exams, for example, creates an automatic divide later into 3 points, 4 points and 5 points -- different proficiency levels -- of bagrut testing. But this divide is still confined to the boundaries of what material should be appropriate for any given age, and is only marginally adapted for skill level.)
Why is this problematic? It should make sense that classification is based on age, no? Students who grew up in the same system will have covered the same materials... well, that's a nice thought in theory, but in practice it is fraught with technicalities. In our efforts to create a homogeneous environment, we have forgotten that every student is different. A student who is strong in mathematics and science may have a much more difficult time with history, literature, bible studies... there are a thousand and one different combinations that can be made, even within the framework of his or her age group.
I can anticipate your next question... how can this be fixed by agency? Well, think back to the students who form their own schedules... self-placement takes care of a lot of the problems of students falling into classes where they can't keep up. It's true that not everything is in the power of the students, of course; much is determined by placement testing. But a student can choose to advance his or herself at any point, a maneuver that motivated students will take full advantage of (in the form of honors classes, AP classes and the like -- or the equivalent מצוינות in Israel), and later use as an advantage when progressing to post-high school stages. Students for whom an advanced academic path is not a priority will not feel the need to bring this upon themselves, but will still be able to succeed within the framework of their own high school... and students who wish to progress in the academic field will push themselves, even now.
There is another aspect of this student initiative, too, that manifests socially. We all remember high school... not just in cheesy American films such as The Breakfast Club or Ferris Bueller's Day Off (not to mention the very thankfully unrealistic portrait painted to us in Glee), but also in real life. It's a cliquish environment, for better or for worse. Kids at those ages, while maybe arriving on an even plane, soon find themselves naturally dividing, being drawn to others who display similar personality traits. School is a very important social springboard, a place where lasting friendships are formed, relationships that can and will help you through the maelstrom of an otherwise hostile environment.
Therefore, allowing a student the opportunity to take an active part in his or her own high school decisions allows him or her to not only choose the academic environment that is best suited for him or her, but also the social environment. I am not saying that the high school regulations and system should be solely crafted around the option for students to interact socially, particularly not in the classroom, but in many cases, the opportunity to study with colleagues of their ilk will also be a motivating factor for the students who maybe need an extra push. And since students naturally drift towards people who are similar to them, it stands to reason that the same motivated students will find themselves in more "advanced" environments whether or not the choice is ultimately in their hands.
This mention of the "advanced" environment brings me to another important point, a largely psychological distinction that I believe is the solution to a great many problems inherent in the system today.
You will notice that I have spent a great deal of time discussing the virtues of advanced classes, honors classes, opportunities for students to excel academically. Now, I would like to take a moment to step back and observe the fundamentals of the Israeli system.
Words like ometz, etgar, tafnit, the acronym mabar (מב"ר) and countless others are dropped like confetti around schools nationwide. For those of you who don't understand Hebrew, these words mean "courage," "challenge," "turning point," and the acronym for "regular exam route." These refer to classes within the school that are reserved for struggling students, for students who can't keep up in the "regular" class environment, for LD (learning disabled) students with sociological problems, socioeconomic problems, ADD, and the like.
Now, I am not naive. I can hear the wheels turning as you process this information. "What's the difference?" you are asking me. "The segregation that needs to happen between advanced and non-advanced students, about which you've been preaching for the last several paragraphs, is already happening. You HAVE more advanced and less advanced students. No?"
Well, yes. That's true. But my point is that there is a monumental difference between having a standard and an advanced class, and having a standard class and one for "challenged" students.
Now, of course, the first psychological difference between the two is in the minds of the students themselves. In the "American" method (as it shall henceforth be known simply within the bounds of this article), no student has to look upon his or herself as being in a "remedial" class environment. Students who are motivated academically can look upon themselves as having achieved advanced levels of success, and students for whom this is not a priority are still on an even plane with what is widely considered a standard high school experience. Furthermore, this distinction raises the bar for education all over the school, allowing the standard material to be enhanced in certain classes, as opposed to having to, in many situations, water it down for others. While it is true that the aforementioned LD students will not disappear, I firmly believe that their thinking of themselves differently is half the battle. And streamlining, or integrating, them into a regular system (a topic that is very current and constantly in the forefront of the Israeli Education Ministry) will doubtless be easier to do in this context than it currently is.
Even beyond this, though, the "American" method produces a great psychological change that happens in the minds of the teachers as well. There have been a great many debates about streamlining, about whether it promotes advancement of LD students or condemns them to a life of "otherness." One of the topics that arose concerned a classroom known as the "marathon" classroom. Legally, this is something that is not approved by the Ministry of Education, but is still a phenomenon in a percentage of schools nationwide. This class is designed to frequently pull the weakest students out of their home classes, for the purpose of learning the purely "academic" subjects.
Now, on the one hand, in this environment, the very same students who hid in the back of the room, drawing circles on the floor with their toes, are suddenly sitting in the front row, surrounded by other students at their own level, asking questions, writing, calculating, etc. They are given a "success" quiz at the end of every lesson, to test comprehension, retention of information, focus. This definitely has its great advantages. The repercussions, however, are largely due to the teachers. Imagine the psychological difference in a teacher's head between walking into a classroom to teach clearly labeled "strong" students, and walking into a marathon classroom to teach the "weak" students. It is entirely possible, in this case, that the standard is automatically being set to far lower than it need be, condemning the students against their own will -- or even knowledge -- to being below par. Having, instead, a regular class in which students -- and, no less importantly, teachers -- feel that the environment is at a standard level, will go a long way towards, again, raising the educational bar, not only in this particular class, but in the school.
I am definitely not trying to claim that the Israeli education system needs to become an American one. But, drawing on my own experiences as an active member of both worlds, I feel that it is necessary to draw attention to the things which I feel are some of the fundamental problems with Israeli education today. My main grief, of course, is with the students' lack of agency. I believe that their almost forcefully homogenized high school experience is a major deterrent in their subsequent lives, in which homogeneity (thankfully) ceases to exist. Encouraging an active and heterogeneous school environment means building a much more stable and supportive foundation for individual life.
No comments:
Post a Comment