It's been three and a half months since I last posted. I had a lot to get off my chest and the pure relief of getting back to the UK (from a job point of view) meant that there wasn't an awful lot more I needed to say after that last one, except ALHAMDULILLAH!!! In fact, I've spent the last few months trying (gradually less) hard not to think about my work experience in the Middle East. I can't look back and trick myself into thinking the job wasn't so bad, because it was, and if you suffered reading my blog posts before, you'll know how much I hated it. That said, it did give me the opportunity to meet some great people and experience a different way of life.
Since my return, I applied for and, praise be to God, got a job working peripatetically in the UK, in a number of schools. So far the job is so much fun (albeit busy) that I thank God as often as I catch myself noticing how much I like it. The peripatetic nature of it means that I avoid all of the add-ons that go with a class teacher. Some of that is not necessarily a good thing, since getting to really know a class as a collective, and being an integral part of school dynamics, are parts of the job I used to really enjoy.
As you may already know though, teaching changed for me the day a colleague at my previous school, where I was already disenchanted (oh dear! Notice a theme?!) lent me the book Dumbing us Down by John Taylor Gatto. I read it in a couple of days, gave it back to him and asked him how he expected me to carry on teaching having agreed with pretty much everything in it. My friend implored me, "At least read it critically!" and I realised he hadn't meant for me to swallow the whole thing unquestioningly, as he now presumed I had. The thing is, I hadn't. It all made sense to me, and above all the (now far removed) society Gatto advocated, in which the community cared for each other in a broad welfare sense, and took a collective responsibility for educating its people, seeing no need to restrict this process to schools, was entirely Islamic. Although I didn't immediately notice that connection at the time, it felt happily appropriate to me.
So, in what ways is the UK education set-up incompatible with Gatto's societal system? I suppose firstly because the society we live in has not developed in a way that lends itself to people being encouraged to take an altruistic approach. The philosopher Stove wrote that mankind loves to teach one another what they know - but this can only happen in a framework in which parents support such a principle of ubiquitous teaching. Like it or not, that necessarily has to include teaching behaviour, safe in the knowledge that the parents of the potentially 'corrected' will not vengefully seek out the teacher to in turn correct his or her ideas about just whose children he or she thinks he's entitled to start on... Furthermore, how does one enforce a behaviour code when society's morals have become so weakly upheld, even disputed, and when members of society behave in ways that totally contradict anything that might be written on tablets of stone or other such records.
Of course, my final hint at the decline and/or factionalism of organised religion is deliberate, since morals without religion are man-made, and man in his imperfection cannot be guaranteed to advocate behaviour codes grounded in honesty, humility, altruism and mutual respect. Thus so many of our morals are temporal, which is why some religious bodies will legalise the formerly impermissible, and why the interest (financially speaking) that ultimately lies behind our Credit Crunch has been deemed perfectly OK for modern society, even though the Bible and the Qur'an both outlaw its use.
Not wanting to digress too much, I shall attempt to make my connections to the title and main purpose of this post.
Simply put, how does an educator successfully educate in the modern UK classroom?
Well, the teacher can't command respect. Those times are gone, mainly because of the huge shift away from the old-fashioned concept of a predisposition to respect ones elders, and towards the confused and totally excessive products of the (ethically sound) rights of children movements.
The more interested of parents will be very keen to know whether or not their child's teacher is any good (and, from my experience, a lot of this judgment may be based on important features such as "How well do they appear to know my child when I see them at parents' evening?" through to totally stupid aspects such as "How much homework are they giving my child?" - certainly I have been judged on both, faring undeservingly well on one and unfairly poorly on the other).
However, the number of parents who are predisposed to supporting the teacher, for example when their child has been found wanting in terms of effort, behaviour, etc., is certainly less than it was in bygone days. In more extreme cases, the teacher has to be exceedingly careful in his/her dealings with parents, who often seem to consider any negative inference relating to their child as a slight on their own character. Hence the message from home is no longer an emphatic call to respect ones teacher.
This leaves the teacher in a sticky predicament. In front of him (I'll run with the male of the species for the purpose of brevity) is a room full of children. Some of them want to believe that their teacher is a great person worth listening to. (Whether he is or not, is for now irrelevant, although it is worth remembering that a good teacher will usually get respect even in a society where it cannot be commanded). Others will give him a chance before deciding whether or not to behave in a manner that conveys respect, and still others will set out from the off to put themselves at the forefront of their own agenda, ahead of the rights (of respect, for one) of their teacher and other classmates.
Of course, this means the potential for, and in many cases the inevitability of, behaviour problems. This may be negated by the inspiring teacher or where the dynamics between teacher and particular students just happens to be of the "Goldilocks Enigma" type (to steal the title of Paul Davies' entirely non-pedagogical book!) - i.e. it is somehow just right.
The days of corporal punishment are long gone and anyway, my preferred tool (figuratively speaking) for more challenging behaviour problems has always been discussion with child, and parent. I say, preferred, insofar as this is only possible if the parent agrees with the teacher, and sees the responsibility for educating the child as lying, at least, with all three parties, and at best, as lying with the child and his/her parents.
Personally, I would prefer to see the onus for educating the child placed on society in a (sadly, almost Utopian) Gatto-style framework as I outlined briefly above. However, given the apparent impossibility of this in our modern society, I believe that this responsibility for education belongs to child and parent. And my view is compounded by personal experiences of classroom practice that I have seen since returning to UK schools.
It is precisely because of the unreasonable expectation placed upon teachers to educate all-comers, and the steady erosion of their classroom management apparatus through society's moral uncertainty and lack of shared goals for the mutual betterment of one another, that you can now find the following phenomena in your local school:
Praise for Par
"Good sitting!" says one teacher...
"Well done James, you've closed your book..." says another...
Do the rights of the child now include the right to copious amounts of praise and stickers for doing very, very little? Or the right to be patronised? I mean, do we really believe that children are stupid and that you can trick them into thinking they're doing something special when they close a book, or write the short date in the top right-hand corner?
No, we are training them, but not with understanding and the ability to cultivate common sense and discern from their own blossoming reason why some actions may be better than some others; nor even to tell them why we believe this may be the case. Instead, we are rewarding them for low-effort obedience, and training them to be unquestioning.
Race for Recognition
I was actually asked the other day which of the two children, on the table at which I was seated, was the first to write the date. Embarrassed, I answered that they had tied for that honour. Next thing I knew, I was very popular with both; stickers all round!
In another class, a teacher inspected her carpeted troops, and commented with a glare that bordered on annoyance,
"I love the way Freddie's sitting."
Deeply moved, I thought of equivalent ways of mixing insincere words with actions, perhaps screwing up my face at dinner and groaning, "This looks delicious, Darling."
Of course, the sun always shines on the shiniest, and in the classroom the light of the teacher's praise is brightened only by the brightness dial on the control...
Don't get me wrong, it makes more sense to aspire to a higher standard (Freddie's sitting quietly and not interfering with his neighbour's personal space, both physically and aurally) than a lower one ("I love the way Toby's standing on the table") - but are the children really learning anything other than
(a) If I sit like Freddie, the teacher might praise me too;
(b) When the teacher says something, most of her language (i.e. tone, body) doesn't match what she claims to think?
Verbal Diarrhoea
"It's not what you say, it's the way that you say it."
Well, I'm sure Bananarama would agree with me that the way that some teachers seem to say 'it' in the primary schools I've been going into, is in an utterly bizarre and annoying tone.
Try to imagine, if you can, the wide eyed yet monotonous eulogising of Father Dougal (Ardal O'Hanlon in Father Ted) when he's trying to convey the magnitude of something truly impressive. Now strip the voice of its Irish accent (since none of the teachers in question have been Irish) and bring it down an octave.
Keep the wide eyed, mock impressed-on-an-unprecedented-scale look, and use your freshly derived voice to say things like,
"Oh, I was looking at the sticker chart today and I noticed that we only need three more stickers to complete the chart, and I was thinking, wouldn't it be amazing if we got those today, by working amazingly hard in Literacy, Numeracy, and P.E...."
(for full effect, draw out the length of the words in bold)
What's strange is that it's spreading - I heard the same voice, in a different person, in a different place, teaching a different lesson, but nonetheless trying in vain to convey the impression that if the particle collider in Europe didn't lead to the end of the world today, then something equally important was going to happen in that particular classroom.
Of course, it's good to be motivated. But after a while, the only way to beat sensationalism is through supermegasensationalism.
Ignorance is Bliss (unless you're being assaulted, that is)
Not much to say on this one except that teachers seem to be following very odd behaviour management strategies that I can only assume are the result of laissez-faire policy design, and/or the total resignation of staff to an education system that preaches "Inclusion, inclusion, inclusion... (...and a bruising)"
Two examples: one, a Key Stage 1 class in which three boys have no desire to be involved in lessons which, given the requirements of the Year 1 curriculum, are necessarily more structured than they've been used to. The boys disrupt all lessons unless supervised on a one-to-one basis, making it very difficult for the other children to learn anything. That these boys may be entirely unready for formal schooling will just have to be marked down and put in the cylindrical open-top filing cabinet in the corner of the room, marked 'Diagnosis incompatible with education system';
secondly, a Year 4 class in which a boy twice walks across the room to kick a girl. The teacher responds to the girl's complaints by telling her to "ignore him". Perhaps a more frank and honest response might be, "You ignore him, I'll ignore you."
It is hard not to be concerned at the phenomena I've described above. I don't believe it's confined to the area in which I'm working, since a lot of it was in place to some extent in the schools I worked in whilst teaching in London, and I used to peddle as much manipulation as the next guy before my Gatto-inspired disillusionment in the education system set in. (Let me qualify this by reiterating that I'm not disillusioned by the idea of a system of education - you can capitalise the first letters of 'education system' in the last sentence if you wish, because I'm referring only to those systems that are currently in favour).
As with so many developments in education and pedagogy - many of them for the better - praise, and less punitive, more restorative, sanctions have been on the increase as modern era tools, underpinned by the belief that they are what is needed to improve the education system, not just in terms of creating order in the classroom, but in terms of raising the personal, social and moral education of children. Indeed, PSHE now has an extra letter in it (it's a C; I'm not sure where it goes or what it stands for) and new schemes of work and resources are issuing forth from all orifices in an attempt to patch up our increasingly frail societal values.
If I've presented myself as harsh and judgmental in this piece of writing, I wish now to say that I admire the ingenuity and determination of classroom teachers, whose jobs I no longer wish for myself, but who have every right to disagree with what I've written here. It is only in recognising my own class teacher conduct, and wriggling with embarrassment at some of my recollections, that I feel able to unpick the various facets of classroom dynamics I have mentioned.
No-one outside of the education system could truly appreciate what you do every day.
Friday, 10 October 2008
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Generous helpings
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said,
"Let him who believes in God and the Last Day (of Judgment) speak good, or keep silent;
And let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his neighbour;
and let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his guest."
It's been a month since I last posted anything on this blog, and suddenly... here I am, contemplating whether this might be the very last entry I write from the UAE.
Since the high concentration of cathartic posts that preceded this one, time has maintained its awesome momentum, bounding on at frightening speed such that in my mind I catch myself and spin around to find only fragments of the last few weeks remain for my pleasure and reflection.
I wrote at the beginning of the blog that its purpose was to preserve the thoughts and feelings I have in the present; since I am all too aware that ones memory seduces its master into believing an experience, and all its richness of senses, to be timeless, only to renege on its promise at some future time. Thus those who doubt it record the present, and those who trust it forget.
From what I do remember, I revive the varied feelings I have enjoyed and endured this year. Frustration and inner turmoil lie at one extreme, and are tied up with my experiences of society, education system and (inevitably) the project I have been a part of, my own involvement and performance level, and the honest and helpless confusion about whether all of this might still be better than returning to roots back in the UK.
At the other extreme, the salient uplifting experience - which has been generously layered across the whole year - has been the great peace that comes with surrounding oneself with others who recognise and worship God and who love, care for, and meet each other for His sake alone, seeking only His pleasure for their kindnesses to each other. Truly amongst the people who have made their home here, and especially in the brothers who have flown here for similar reasons to myself, I have been blessed by the noble company of many wonderful new friends.
I have mentioned elsewhere my reservations about this country on a macro level; about the trials her wealth has brought, and about her future if she continues to sell her foundations for facades... but still something remains at the heart, and it is a good heart that is shared by so many of the people of this area.
Something inside me cries out to qualify such a statement; yes, deep down the people are good, but... but...
...but isn't this the case with people everywhere? Can't each society, and each individual, be broken down until we are left with a division of acts, beliefs and tendencies, which we can then bifurcate into good and bad (according to our own values, of course) and, regardless of the disequilibrium, conclude that there is good in everyone even if they don't always show it?
Don't we believe, in Islam, that everyone is born with the predisposed inclination towards worship of God?
Today I said goodbye to the teachers I have been working with, for whom today was their last day until the new academic year. One had made me a flask of Arabic coffee (to be offset by the sweetness of the fresh dates she also provided). Another two bought gifts for my wife, my son and myself. A general murmur bemoaned my departure and one or two enquired as to the reason, smiling knowingly when I declined the opportunity to answer in full.
One teacher cried, and I felt bad that I had not done more for her, and spent too much time running away from difficult situations.
Suddenly, in a flash, the end of a year inside those walls.
I struggled to survive for eleven months. I dreaded modelling lessons and felt elated when they had finished (more so if they'd gone well, which they occasionally did); I looked away whilst explaining company vision and practice, or looked them in the eye and told them I agreed with their resistance to it; I sat in planning sessions and enthused teachers with genuinely good (I think) ideas of Western origin, and then wondered who would have the true understanding (not them) or the guts (not me) to teach them in the classroom.
Then there we all were, they smiling and I wishing I'd taken longer to appreciate the simple efforts of, and interactions with, good and well-meaning people. Then I tried not to attach any flaws to them when I wished that, because the Prophet (peace be upon him) told us to speak good or keep silent.
And I thought that, in large part, that's exactly what they've been doing all year.
Imagine you're a teacher, and you're English, and you're teaching in England. Suddenly someone comes along and tells you to teach all core subjects to your English students through Arabic. You don't even speak the language, except what you picked up from the telly. Not only that, forget about the professional and pedagogical style you've been using since you got your qualification. Here's a new one! See that you implement it inside, ooooooh, the next 2 years?
How would you cope with that?! By accepting it quietly?
On reflection, I can't begin to conceive of how much self-control and persistence it must take to keep turning up each morning when the world as you know it is being turned upside down. Much less keep a brave face and - speaking for most of the staff - try to be positive even when you neither see nor understand the vision that's supposed to be behind it all.
I thought of the quiet dignity of the ladies with whom I have worked this year and returned it with quiet admiration. Here are a group of people who may not have spoken good 100% of the time, but I would estimate they have come a lot closer to it than I would have managed in their situation.
It was only when I thought of looking for this saying of the Prophet (pbuh), to ensure I had remembered it correctly, that I discovered there was more to it and I had realised.
"...and let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his guest."
The significance in the context of this post?
Well...
This must be the first place I have ever worked where I have most definitely not needed to bring a packed lunch or money to work!
Such is the generosity of the teachers at my school that my teeth have begun to rot from the never omitted sugar in the tea, served up every day under their coercion if necessary, and accompanied by all kinds of local dishes and tasty snacks.
More poignantly, their generosity extends to kind words and good wishes at the end of a year of confusion and frustration; the giving of compliments to one not worthy of receiving them; and even the offering of tears at the departure of a guest they have welcomed as one of their own.
How often do I offer the same small kindnesses?
"Let him who believes in God and the Last Day (of Judgment) speak good, or keep silent;
And let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his neighbour;
and let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his guest."
It's been a month since I last posted anything on this blog, and suddenly... here I am, contemplating whether this might be the very last entry I write from the UAE.
Since the high concentration of cathartic posts that preceded this one, time has maintained its awesome momentum, bounding on at frightening speed such that in my mind I catch myself and spin around to find only fragments of the last few weeks remain for my pleasure and reflection.
I wrote at the beginning of the blog that its purpose was to preserve the thoughts and feelings I have in the present; since I am all too aware that ones memory seduces its master into believing an experience, and all its richness of senses, to be timeless, only to renege on its promise at some future time. Thus those who doubt it record the present, and those who trust it forget.
From what I do remember, I revive the varied feelings I have enjoyed and endured this year. Frustration and inner turmoil lie at one extreme, and are tied up with my experiences of society, education system and (inevitably) the project I have been a part of, my own involvement and performance level, and the honest and helpless confusion about whether all of this might still be better than returning to roots back in the UK.
At the other extreme, the salient uplifting experience - which has been generously layered across the whole year - has been the great peace that comes with surrounding oneself with others who recognise and worship God and who love, care for, and meet each other for His sake alone, seeking only His pleasure for their kindnesses to each other. Truly amongst the people who have made their home here, and especially in the brothers who have flown here for similar reasons to myself, I have been blessed by the noble company of many wonderful new friends.
I have mentioned elsewhere my reservations about this country on a macro level; about the trials her wealth has brought, and about her future if she continues to sell her foundations for facades... but still something remains at the heart, and it is a good heart that is shared by so many of the people of this area.
Something inside me cries out to qualify such a statement; yes, deep down the people are good, but... but...
...but isn't this the case with people everywhere? Can't each society, and each individual, be broken down until we are left with a division of acts, beliefs and tendencies, which we can then bifurcate into good and bad (according to our own values, of course) and, regardless of the disequilibrium, conclude that there is good in everyone even if they don't always show it?
Don't we believe, in Islam, that everyone is born with the predisposed inclination towards worship of God?
Today I said goodbye to the teachers I have been working with, for whom today was their last day until the new academic year. One had made me a flask of Arabic coffee (to be offset by the sweetness of the fresh dates she also provided). Another two bought gifts for my wife, my son and myself. A general murmur bemoaned my departure and one or two enquired as to the reason, smiling knowingly when I declined the opportunity to answer in full.
One teacher cried, and I felt bad that I had not done more for her, and spent too much time running away from difficult situations.
Suddenly, in a flash, the end of a year inside those walls.
I struggled to survive for eleven months. I dreaded modelling lessons and felt elated when they had finished (more so if they'd gone well, which they occasionally did); I looked away whilst explaining company vision and practice, or looked them in the eye and told them I agreed with their resistance to it; I sat in planning sessions and enthused teachers with genuinely good (I think) ideas of Western origin, and then wondered who would have the true understanding (not them) or the guts (not me) to teach them in the classroom.
Then there we all were, they smiling and I wishing I'd taken longer to appreciate the simple efforts of, and interactions with, good and well-meaning people. Then I tried not to attach any flaws to them when I wished that, because the Prophet (peace be upon him) told us to speak good or keep silent.
And I thought that, in large part, that's exactly what they've been doing all year.
Imagine you're a teacher, and you're English, and you're teaching in England. Suddenly someone comes along and tells you to teach all core subjects to your English students through Arabic. You don't even speak the language, except what you picked up from the telly. Not only that, forget about the professional and pedagogical style you've been using since you got your qualification. Here's a new one! See that you implement it inside, ooooooh, the next 2 years?
How would you cope with that?! By accepting it quietly?
On reflection, I can't begin to conceive of how much self-control and persistence it must take to keep turning up each morning when the world as you know it is being turned upside down. Much less keep a brave face and - speaking for most of the staff - try to be positive even when you neither see nor understand the vision that's supposed to be behind it all.
I thought of the quiet dignity of the ladies with whom I have worked this year and returned it with quiet admiration. Here are a group of people who may not have spoken good 100% of the time, but I would estimate they have come a lot closer to it than I would have managed in their situation.
It was only when I thought of looking for this saying of the Prophet (pbuh), to ensure I had remembered it correctly, that I discovered there was more to it and I had realised.
"...and let him who believes in God and the Last Day be generous to his guest."
The significance in the context of this post?
Well...
This must be the first place I have ever worked where I have most definitely not needed to bring a packed lunch or money to work!
Such is the generosity of the teachers at my school that my teeth have begun to rot from the never omitted sugar in the tea, served up every day under their coercion if necessary, and accompanied by all kinds of local dishes and tasty snacks.
More poignantly, their generosity extends to kind words and good wishes at the end of a year of confusion and frustration; the giving of compliments to one not worthy of receiving them; and even the offering of tears at the departure of a guest they have welcomed as one of their own.
How often do I offer the same small kindnesses?
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Speak English, boy!!
One of the ironies of expecting Emiratis to speak fluent English is that people in high company positions seem to have a tendency for abusing English by coining pretentious and irritating phrases. Some are then used as mantras, others as peculiar verbs or nouns.
As a teacher, I had noticed this creeping more and more into everyday lexicon (is there anything more insulting than the concept of an officially excellent teacher?) but nothing quite prepared me for the wholesale use of business-speak in a private company. (Actually I'm quite sure some of these are peculiar to management figures rather than used across the business world!)
Here are just a few examples to give you the idea:
buy into v. to be brainwashed; to be coerced.
"Some of the teachers may not initially buy into the project..."
cascade v. to inform ones inferior; term implying and reinforcing hierarchical structure.
"Please ensure you cascade this information throughout your team..."
drill down v. to make a simple, manageable concept far more complicated.
"...take those learning objectives and drill down..."
empower v. to equip one who has 'bought into' a philosophy, with a particular mindset and/or habitual procedural tendencies.
"We're not here to teach the children in English; we're here to empower the teachers so they have the confidence to do that."
flag up v. to notice something undesirable/unforeseen; to notice and publicise across the entire e-mail address book the perpetrator of something undesirable/unforeseen.
"It's important to flag up a mistake like that to ensure it doesn't happen again. EVER."
Not to be confused with occasionally heard alternative usage:
"I'd like to shove a flag up (my superior)'s... etc. etc."
heads up n. process of informing someone (e.g. as part of cascade)
"A meeting's been called for this afternoon, after designated work hours. Just to give you a heads up."
quite key a. something that's like, really important. But not really really important.
"...and I think drilling down those learning objectives is quite key to the process..."
success criteria n. the set of predetermined desirable outcomes by which you can measure your self-worth, intelligence quotient, beauty etc. according to your ability to meet them.
ant. "Thinking outside the box"; innovation; pioneering.
"The success criteria for this lesson, and basically all the others in your education, is to allow yourself to be moulded by those who claim to have your best interests at heart."
Any more that anyone would care to add?
As a teacher, I had noticed this creeping more and more into everyday lexicon (is there anything more insulting than the concept of an officially excellent teacher?) but nothing quite prepared me for the wholesale use of business-speak in a private company. (Actually I'm quite sure some of these are peculiar to management figures rather than used across the business world!)
Here are just a few examples to give you the idea:
buy into v. to be brainwashed; to be coerced.
"Some of the teachers may not initially buy into the project..."
cascade v. to inform ones inferior; term implying and reinforcing hierarchical structure.
"Please ensure you cascade this information throughout your team..."
drill down v. to make a simple, manageable concept far more complicated.
"...take those learning objectives and drill down..."
empower v. to equip one who has 'bought into' a philosophy, with a particular mindset and/or habitual procedural tendencies.
"We're not here to teach the children in English; we're here to empower the teachers so they have the confidence to do that."
flag up v. to notice something undesirable/unforeseen; to notice and publicise across the entire e-mail address book the perpetrator of something undesirable/unforeseen.
"It's important to flag up a mistake like that to ensure it doesn't happen again. EVER."
Not to be confused with occasionally heard alternative usage:
"I'd like to shove a flag up (my superior)'s... etc. etc."
heads up n. process of informing someone (e.g. as part of cascade)
"A meeting's been called for this afternoon, after designated work hours. Just to give you a heads up."
quite key a. something that's like, really important. But not really really important.
"...and I think drilling down those learning objectives is quite key to the process..."
success criteria n. the set of predetermined desirable outcomes by which you can measure your self-worth, intelligence quotient, beauty etc. according to your ability to meet them.
ant. "Thinking outside the box"; innovation; pioneering.
"The success criteria for this lesson, and basically all the others in your education, is to allow yourself to be moulded by those who claim to have your best interests at heart."
Any more that anyone would care to add?
Saturday, 24 May 2008
UAE vs England
Friends back home will be delighted to know this is not a forthcoming football fixture; we couldn't take any more humiliation right now...
It's funny how you can find almost polar opposite examples of good and bad regarding certain elements of culture here and in England.
One struck me today when I telephoned a certain government helpline in the UK to deal with an issue. The woman, a Scot, was either having a niggly sort of day, or had been taught that the best way of dealing with customers was to be assertive.
In the way one might call Bush, Cheney et al. assertive when it comes to foreign policy, I mean. She wasn't polite.
On the evidence of her speech and tone, I got the impression that she expected everyone who called to know the answers to the questions they asked her.
I suddenly remembered that this is not unusual for the UK. There seems to be an awful lot of people manning (or 'womanning'?) helplines who think that courtesy is something you do when the Queen enters the room.
In contrast, the UAE helplines are answered by people who - give them credit - can speak and be polite in a number of languages. Even if they can't actually help you.
The majority of them appear to be Asians and non-UAE Arabs (since few locals would take a job answering phones) and for those of you who are wondering why lots of major companies in the UK have redirected their helpline centre traffic to India, you might get your answer from this!
So, 1-0 to the UAE after telephone helplines. First to five wins:
STARING
Sure, there's a lot of uncovered people in England, especially in summer and especially on the beaches. As Muslims we are taught to cover up and avert the eyes. Harder to do when you come from an English seaside town. There's so much flesh on show that you could imagine there would be more eyes-on-stalks in the UK but.... no.
For any woman who's ever been sweet-talked with the line You'd even look good in a paper bag - there are lots of men over here who'd probably agree with Romeo. Staring is a pastime, largely confined to the Asian men (but by no means all of them; there are many who set a good example that the others should notice... if they weren't intently staring at a pair of eyes in a mass of nondescript black clothing).
Of course, I'm not ignoring the fact that most of these men have left dire economic circumstances so that they can provide for their families back home; many are married with children but only get to visit home as little as once every couple of years (in some cases).
By the way, if this comment and attribution of blame isn't politically correct... well, what would you like me to do about it? Everyone who comes here notices it and it's clear where most of the staring is coming from!
Emphatically, an equaliser for England. 1-1.
DRIVING
Safety-wise? Easy. The laidback swagger you see from most of the locals here is in sharp contrast to the frantic I've-just-woken-up-and-found-that-my-crucial-business-meeting-started-three-minutes-ago-on-the-other-side-of-town-plus-I've-already-been-delayed-by-a-gaggle-of-geese-crossing-the-road manner in which they drive. Tailgating is a national sport here.
In England, pulling over to the side of the road is what you do when you're tired or you have a puncture.
In the UAE, it's what you do if an Emirati roars into view behind you.
England 2-1 UAE.
DRIVING: The Sequel
Now let's talk road-rage. I mean genuine road-rage, as in hand signals you won't find in the Highway Code, and pursuing people for miles whilst flashing and beeping incessantly.
OK, in the UAE, you will get beeped (at least once a week, even if you are the perfect driver) and the flashing means "You're in my way and I'm still late for that business meeting, now move it!" (as discussed in the previous point).
However, I am quite sure that most of the beeping and flashing is totally without animosity. If it happens to the Briton and then, at the next set of lights, he finds himself adjacent to the perpetrator, to his utter shock he will generally discover that the honker is not glaring at him (whilst simultaneously allowing him the opportunity to practise his lip-reading skills to elicit contentious information about his mother) but sitting calmly in his seat waiting to charge off at the green light.
Actually, come to think of it, most of the windows are tinted so much that I can't be sure whether or not they're growling and cursing... or whether that light actually is green...
England 2-2 UAE
HOSPITALS/ HEALTH CARE
People will tell you that the NHS is pretty poor. Wait a year for vital keyhole surgery and leave with a free dose of MRSA and a pair of scissors jiggling around somewhere inside you.
OK, all of that's pretty bad.
But I'm quite sure that the NHS is preferable to a health care 'system' which operates (no pun intended) by a few key principles:
* Inject first, ask questions later (except the one that checks you have appropriate insurance);
* Prescribe drugs first, ask questions later;
* Prescribe drugs second, ask questions about repeat prescriptions for the first set during;
* If this white coat's his size, he's probably safe to advise/dictate life-or-death issues.
I won't go on and on about this but here's a minor and major example:
(1) Friend's son goes in with abnormal swelling, doctor suggests an injection. Friend asks for alternative, doctor suggests tablets. Friend asks why injection was suggested first, doctor replies tablets would take a few days to work.
Diagnosis: Jab-happy doctors in town.
(2) Woman goes to hospital to give birth. Complications lead to need for caesarean section. Surgeon accidentally cuts through bladder. Bladder bleeds. Surgeon panics and... leaves operating room... and hospital.
Woman's life saved by rare, almost mythical creature. (A competent doctor in the UAE).
Diagnosis: HELP!!
England 3-2 UAE
WEATHER
Right, this is a quick point if ever there was one.
Yes, the UAE is great for a holiday... in winter.
At all other times, if you can afford not to work so that developing your tan is the most sweat-generating activity you enjoy (we're certainly not talking about me here), the weather is OK... however if you have to go anywhere in daylight, or you prefer to sleep at night without the aid of air conditioning, you need to avoid summer. Which lasts ten months of the year, by the way.
Right now the real summer hasn't actually hit and it's a moderate 40C in Al Ain (although humidity is up today, making it more like Dubai and Abu Dhabi).
I haven't forgotten being on the tube in a London summer... but there's no contest on this one.
Plus I'm biased because I love the rain and can't wait to feel/see/hear/taste it again!
England 4-2 UAE
SAFETY
This is cut and dried.
My wife walked to the mall the other night, down the back streets, in the dark, with just her friend for company. She wasn't attacked or harassed, she didn't feel intimidated, she got home safe and sound, praise to God.
(She was probably stared at on the way, mind).
England 4-3 UAE
SAFETY
I know, I already did safety. But can you believe that?! It was 10pm!!
That's worth an extra point, right?
England 4-4 UAE
FREEDOM
This is going to be controversial.
I mean, one of the 'safety' reasons we moved to the UAE is because, as Muslims, we have a little bit of a siege mentality living in the UK. There's always something in the papers or on the radio (I'm thinking a certain Talksport show in particular) that proves how little Muslims are understood, but also, judging by forums I occasionally come across, it's so disappointing to find that we sink to the level of those who have got nothing better to do than throw abuse at us without understanding.
So here, I have the freedom to walk to the mosque whenever I want, without feeling threatened (I guess this is the safety aspect again), it's normal to say assalamu alaikum and InshaAllah to others... I even have the freedom to eat halal meat wherever I go!
But...
A lot of the freedom is an illusion.
I heard in a brilliant lecture by Anwar Al-Awlaki that one of the signs of the last days was that the Muslims would employ security forces to prevent the word of God being spread.
We hear about agents doing exactly that: questioning people about why they're meeting, warning them not to meet, even occasionally deporting those who are involved.
Not only that; in nearly all mosques the Friday sermon is one that has been prepared centrally and disseminated throughout. It also generally includes prayers for the current and previous shuyookh of the UAE. (Not that I have any inclination to speak ill of these leaders, past or present, but I am assured that were I to do so I would be in big trouble. Come to think of it, at my school, you will be reprimanded for walking/talking in the national anthem, but walking/talking when the Qur'an is being recited is, apparently, not a problem*).
* So, when the Qur'an is recited, listen to it, and be silent that you may receive mercy.
Holy Qur'an (7:204)
Whenever I sit through one of these khutbah, I long to be in London where the sermons are typically relevant and motivating (and not in any way that the media-manipulated terror-consumed public should be worried about!) - and in English, fortunately.
The UAE isn't the only place you can see this happening, of course. This attempt to control everyone is futile anyway - or it should be, as long as we work hard against it. There's a great part in the film V for Vendetta where one of the characters mentions in her diary the importance of the very last inch of us... within that inch we are free. She's referring to integrity; ultimately not compromising what you believe to be right.
I can't help feeling that if I get to visit London when I return to England, I quite fancy a brief sojourn to Speakers' Corner to remind myself what freedom of speech is all about.
That's the winner.
England 5-4 UAE
It's funny how you can find almost polar opposite examples of good and bad regarding certain elements of culture here and in England.
One struck me today when I telephoned a certain government helpline in the UK to deal with an issue. The woman, a Scot, was either having a niggly sort of day, or had been taught that the best way of dealing with customers was to be assertive.
In the way one might call Bush, Cheney et al. assertive when it comes to foreign policy, I mean. She wasn't polite.
On the evidence of her speech and tone, I got the impression that she expected everyone who called to know the answers to the questions they asked her.
I suddenly remembered that this is not unusual for the UK. There seems to be an awful lot of people manning (or 'womanning'?) helplines who think that courtesy is something you do when the Queen enters the room.
In contrast, the UAE helplines are answered by people who - give them credit - can speak and be polite in a number of languages. Even if they can't actually help you.
The majority of them appear to be Asians and non-UAE Arabs (since few locals would take a job answering phones) and for those of you who are wondering why lots of major companies in the UK have redirected their helpline centre traffic to India, you might get your answer from this!
So, 1-0 to the UAE after telephone helplines. First to five wins:
STARING
Sure, there's a lot of uncovered people in England, especially in summer and especially on the beaches. As Muslims we are taught to cover up and avert the eyes. Harder to do when you come from an English seaside town. There's so much flesh on show that you could imagine there would be more eyes-on-stalks in the UK but.... no.
For any woman who's ever been sweet-talked with the line You'd even look good in a paper bag - there are lots of men over here who'd probably agree with Romeo. Staring is a pastime, largely confined to the Asian men (but by no means all of them; there are many who set a good example that the others should notice... if they weren't intently staring at a pair of eyes in a mass of nondescript black clothing).
Of course, I'm not ignoring the fact that most of these men have left dire economic circumstances so that they can provide for their families back home; many are married with children but only get to visit home as little as once every couple of years (in some cases).
By the way, if this comment and attribution of blame isn't politically correct... well, what would you like me to do about it? Everyone who comes here notices it and it's clear where most of the staring is coming from!
Emphatically, an equaliser for England. 1-1.
DRIVING
Safety-wise? Easy. The laidback swagger you see from most of the locals here is in sharp contrast to the frantic I've-just-woken-up-and-found-that-my-crucial-business-meeting-started-three-minutes-ago-on-the-other-side-of-town-plus-I've-already-been-delayed-by-a-gaggle-of-geese-crossing-the-road manner in which they drive. Tailgating is a national sport here.
In England, pulling over to the side of the road is what you do when you're tired or you have a puncture.
In the UAE, it's what you do if an Emirati roars into view behind you.
England 2-1 UAE.
DRIVING: The Sequel
Now let's talk road-rage. I mean genuine road-rage, as in hand signals you won't find in the Highway Code, and pursuing people for miles whilst flashing and beeping incessantly.
OK, in the UAE, you will get beeped (at least once a week, even if you are the perfect driver) and the flashing means "You're in my way and I'm still late for that business meeting, now move it!" (as discussed in the previous point).
However, I am quite sure that most of the beeping and flashing is totally without animosity. If it happens to the Briton and then, at the next set of lights, he finds himself adjacent to the perpetrator, to his utter shock he will generally discover that the honker is not glaring at him (whilst simultaneously allowing him the opportunity to practise his lip-reading skills to elicit contentious information about his mother) but sitting calmly in his seat waiting to charge off at the green light.
Actually, come to think of it, most of the windows are tinted so much that I can't be sure whether or not they're growling and cursing... or whether that light actually is green...
England 2-2 UAE
HOSPITALS/ HEALTH CARE
People will tell you that the NHS is pretty poor. Wait a year for vital keyhole surgery and leave with a free dose of MRSA and a pair of scissors jiggling around somewhere inside you.
OK, all of that's pretty bad.
But I'm quite sure that the NHS is preferable to a health care 'system' which operates (no pun intended) by a few key principles:
* Inject first, ask questions later (except the one that checks you have appropriate insurance);
* Prescribe drugs first, ask questions later;
* Prescribe drugs second, ask questions about repeat prescriptions for the first set during;
* If this white coat's his size, he's probably safe to advise/dictate life-or-death issues.
I won't go on and on about this but here's a minor and major example:
(1) Friend's son goes in with abnormal swelling, doctor suggests an injection. Friend asks for alternative, doctor suggests tablets. Friend asks why injection was suggested first, doctor replies tablets would take a few days to work.
Diagnosis: Jab-happy doctors in town.
(2) Woman goes to hospital to give birth. Complications lead to need for caesarean section. Surgeon accidentally cuts through bladder. Bladder bleeds. Surgeon panics and... leaves operating room... and hospital.
Woman's life saved by rare, almost mythical creature. (A competent doctor in the UAE).
Diagnosis: HELP!!
England 3-2 UAE
WEATHER
Right, this is a quick point if ever there was one.
Yes, the UAE is great for a holiday... in winter.
At all other times, if you can afford not to work so that developing your tan is the most sweat-generating activity you enjoy (we're certainly not talking about me here), the weather is OK... however if you have to go anywhere in daylight, or you prefer to sleep at night without the aid of air conditioning, you need to avoid summer. Which lasts ten months of the year, by the way.
Right now the real summer hasn't actually hit and it's a moderate 40C in Al Ain (although humidity is up today, making it more like Dubai and Abu Dhabi).
I haven't forgotten being on the tube in a London summer... but there's no contest on this one.
Plus I'm biased because I love the rain and can't wait to feel/see/hear/taste it again!
England 4-2 UAE
SAFETY
This is cut and dried.
My wife walked to the mall the other night, down the back streets, in the dark, with just her friend for company. She wasn't attacked or harassed, she didn't feel intimidated, she got home safe and sound, praise to God.
(She was probably stared at on the way, mind).
England 4-3 UAE
SAFETY
I know, I already did safety. But can you believe that?! It was 10pm!!
That's worth an extra point, right?
England 4-4 UAE
FREEDOM
This is going to be controversial.
I mean, one of the 'safety' reasons we moved to the UAE is because, as Muslims, we have a little bit of a siege mentality living in the UK. There's always something in the papers or on the radio (I'm thinking a certain Talksport show in particular) that proves how little Muslims are understood, but also, judging by forums I occasionally come across, it's so disappointing to find that we sink to the level of those who have got nothing better to do than throw abuse at us without understanding.
So here, I have the freedom to walk to the mosque whenever I want, without feeling threatened (I guess this is the safety aspect again), it's normal to say assalamu alaikum and InshaAllah to others... I even have the freedom to eat halal meat wherever I go!
But...
A lot of the freedom is an illusion.
I heard in a brilliant lecture by Anwar Al-Awlaki that one of the signs of the last days was that the Muslims would employ security forces to prevent the word of God being spread.
We hear about agents doing exactly that: questioning people about why they're meeting, warning them not to meet, even occasionally deporting those who are involved.
Not only that; in nearly all mosques the Friday sermon is one that has been prepared centrally and disseminated throughout. It also generally includes prayers for the current and previous shuyookh of the UAE. (Not that I have any inclination to speak ill of these leaders, past or present, but I am assured that were I to do so I would be in big trouble. Come to think of it, at my school, you will be reprimanded for walking/talking in the national anthem, but walking/talking when the Qur'an is being recited is, apparently, not a problem*).
* So, when the Qur'an is recited, listen to it, and be silent that you may receive mercy.
Holy Qur'an (7:204)
Whenever I sit through one of these khutbah, I long to be in London where the sermons are typically relevant and motivating (and not in any way that the media-manipulated terror-consumed public should be worried about!) - and in English, fortunately.
The UAE isn't the only place you can see this happening, of course. This attempt to control everyone is futile anyway - or it should be, as long as we work hard against it. There's a great part in the film V for Vendetta where one of the characters mentions in her diary the importance of the very last inch of us... within that inch we are free. She's referring to integrity; ultimately not compromising what you believe to be right.
I can't help feeling that if I get to visit London when I return to England, I quite fancy a brief sojourn to Speakers' Corner to remind myself what freedom of speech is all about.
That's the winner.
England 5-4 UAE
Thursday, 22 May 2008
Context and Vexed
Time for some background.
As I alluded to earlier, I was once content in education and there was a moment (albeit a fairly drawn out one) where that changed.
When a voluntary-aided school I was working at was forced to close (through lack of voluntary aid, unfortunately), many of the students and I ended up at a neighbouring school. Everyone there was well-intentioned but on the whole it was disorganised and the farthest from an inspiring environment that I had worked in to date.
In addition to that, a colleague lent me a book by John Taylor Gatto. I've since met people who despise this book but, for me, a great deal of what was written made a lot of sense. I realised that the societal but non-school based ideal he was describing was largely impractical in London 2007, but for the first time I felt that state education was a con:
its aims were not based around the genuine enlightenment of children;
its means were designed to subjugate rather than to facilitate;
its content was far from objective and led to total ignorance of areas of knowledge that are essential for children to grow up with the unconditional willingness to understand and respect others.
Irrespective of reservations about the system, a teacher should strive to inspire and make what (s)he can of the situation, and once again I hold my hands up and say that my teaching performance started to decline badly at this point. Where a better person would have tried to improve all around them, I allowed myself to be consumed by the inadequacy of all around me.
I don't mean that I didn't teach properly, or that I had no concern for my students, or anything like that - just that I lost the spark and the energy I'd had before, and took my foot off the gas.
I couldn't imagine staying in that school beyond that academic year, so I was interested when my brother-in-law (also a teacher) told me about a job working as an education advisor in the Middle East. This opportunity had some apparent advantages:
he and his family were already there so we'd know people already;
a safe environment for my family;
the opportunity to learn Arabic (so I hoped) which for me, as a Muslim, is extremely important;
a chance to move away from class teaching, which I had decided was the main factor in my apathy towards all matters educational. This point was crucial; I convinced myself that it wasn't education I was washing my hands with - it was being a class teacher.
Really I was deluding myself so that I could take the job with a clear conscience ; the truth is that I was a good class teacher and it was my feeling about the bigger picture that was destroying my enthusiasm for teaching.
On the positive side, it meant that I began to thoroughly analyse everything I was required to teach. In other words I developed, 13 years after leaving school, the automatic tendency to search for an alternative angle on what others took as truths and accepted unquestioningly.
On the negative side, I became obsessed with looking for faults in those above me who seemed to be those unquestioning practitioners. I started to resent their obedience and restlessly complain to myself about their inability or lack of inclination to challenge what they were being told to present as gospel.
Anyone who's worked on the UAE project as an advisor (as opposed to those very few who have the opportunity to steer policy) will read the previous paragraph and know that I could never have been content in the job I took next.
There are layers of control that are shared between competing institutions in the UAE and the providers it has hired to advise its schools, and, nine months after starting here, I am really none the wiser as to who genuinely has a coherent vision and/or realistic roadmap of how to get to it. I'm not sure any of them do either.
If you've read 1984, well, on a less sinister level, working for an advisory company in the UAE is like being at war with Eurasia. When, suddenly, one of the unconvincing educational principles that you've been told to promote and defend to the sceptical teachers (who basically hold the same opinion as you, only you're not allowed to say so)... when one of those principles changes: you were never at war with Eurasia. You were always at war with Eastasia, and Eurasia have always been your allies!
So, this year I've always been able to plan subject-specific lessons with my teachers, because the thematically planned and practical style of teaching and learning has always been a step beyond what one could realistically expect from teachers who previously taught only one subject (two in some cases) from a textbook, day in, day out.
This is just one example; if I continued with others, I'd be writing for the rest of this week and would have nothing left for the rest of the year, so I'll resist for the time being.
The problem is, working in the UAE, these deliberate distortions of memory are de riguer anyway. That's why a child who has applied himself less than 1% in class all year, and had a family member or maid complete his homework, can take satisfaction from his end-of-year pass mark when it arrives soon after an exam he barely remembers taking. The mark is there, therefore his application has been sufficient.
Likewise, the teacher has passed the majority of her students, therefore her teaching has been up to scratch.
Similarly, the advisory provider's school has seen most its students pass, so the advice has been of a good quality.
I have been a witness to, and where possible a conscientious objector against, the adjustment and fabrication of assessment marks, both by the school and the company I work for. As recently as yesterday one of the teachers showed me a relatively genuine results spreadsheet and asked,
"The principal says all the boys must pass. What to do?"
As an advice to all human beings, with myself at the top of the list in terms of those most in need of it,
Be honest with yourself.
Be honest with yourself, and move on.
A man who beats his son black and blue and then pays a small fortune for a dermatologist to pass comment on abnormal skin discolouration, is wasting his money.
A country who call outsiders to redesign her education system and then, when it comes to assessment, is party to a greater work of fiction than she could currently hope for one of her students to produce in creative writing, is wasting her money.
I wanted to talk about facing up to truths here, but I checked myself for arrogance and I thank God for allowing me the presence of mind to remember that what I am saying is only my opinion. Be both objective and critical as you read on.
So, in my opinion, I believe that there are some fundamental problems with the path that this country has chosen and, in mentioning them, I will detach myself from my personal reservations about the education system which, in terms of the idea of sending students to a place and implying that they should take all of their knowledge in that context alone, was already extremely similar to the western style, before any intervention.
(1) This is a Muslim country. There is no compulsion in the religion you choose to accept, and all are welcome here*, but the first principle of state actions must be to keep Islam as its determining influence. Whilst individuals I have worked with and observed are generally extremely respectful of religion and culture here, it is unreasonable to expect that non-Muslims will steer policy in a direction chosen according to Islamic principles. Similarly, were I asked to set the educational agenda in a Hinduism-based context, I am sure I would be found severely lacking in my ability to do this in the most suitable manner for Hindus.
Yet the curriculum comes from New South Wales and History is not taught in primary schools. Why? Is there not enough history in this part of the world? Well, that might be the impression I formed when I was at school (if I was actually even aware of where the Middle East was) but I know it not to be the case now.
I have seen enough to remind me of the generally high quality of teaching and learning styles of western-trained (or as a more accurate grouping: English-tongued) practitioners and I personally believe these styles do represent a potential for improvement on the quality of teaching and learning in the UAE. But I'm talking pedagogy here, not curriculum!
*Sadly some seem to be more welcome than others - but I'll save that one for another post.
(2) There is an obsession with English here. Perhaps this is a reflection of the wider obsession with the western world. But France is part of the western world and, the last time I checked, the French education system was not attempting to teach all subjects through the medium of English! Yet France, like the UAE, believes that English is a key language to master in the modern world, and I take no issue with that opinion.
I must confess total ignorance as to the general standard of French in France, but I would be surprised if it's lower than the level of modern standard Arabic in the UAE**. So why not obsess about improving the Arabic at least as well as the English?
**Please note that I say this not as anything more than a beginner in Arabic, but based on the feedback I have received from native Arabic speaking advisors in my company).
I appreciate that I said in (1) that I believe those who have come from English-speaking countries to improve teaching and learning, generally have the expertise to do so. Others I have sounded off to see this is a key argument for teaching all subjects through English, but I disagree. There are several alternative ways that the passing of teaching techniques could be passed from the English speaker to the Arab teacher. Two that spring to mind are:
*A huge exposure of designated Arab teachers to non-UAE classrooms where subjects like Science and Maths are taught effectively through English, so that they are in a position to observe and internalise lesson structure and specific activity ideas. They would then be best placed to impart knowledge to other teachers. (Trust me, I've delivered and watched training sessions to teachers and they don't understand half as much in English as you think/hope they do. They're far more likely to learn effectively from teachers speaking their first language, and watching those teachers model lessons for them in their own language). An ability to understand English well would be highly advantageous for these designated teachers but, if you think this is unrealistic, you need to remember again that the level of English spoken/understood by most teachers in schools at the moment, is not particularly high either! So how much are they understanding from the advisors?!
Now, where to find these strong teachers in English-speaking schools? How about England? (or Canada, USA, Australia, etc...) It's not as if the UAE doesn't have enough money to send the designated teachers there to see some good practice. And it's also not true that the UAE doesn't have any good teachers just because until recently they have taught in a different style. There are some very enthusiastic and potentially very creative ones, the resilience of whom has struck me as being far greater than my own.
*Subject-specific skills and knowledge can generally be taught in a proportion of English lessons, by shifting the emphasis towards vocabulary (e.g. re-covering Science and Mathematical concepts previously taught through Arabic, this time with a 'western' style of teaching and using relevant vocabulary). This allows consolidation for the student, and an opportunity for the teacher to witness the pedagogy. This is meaningful modelling by the advisor too, since (s)he can work within his/her specialist area but with a slightly greater focus on English which is, after all, his/her first language. The students' education doesn't hinge on the lesson because they began to learn it in Arabic already. Thus they have a headstart in terms of their chances of understanding, and are more likely to remain focused in the lesson.
Both of these ideas should be employed with a compatible university/college training system for new teachers. The beginnings of this appear to be in place, based on what I have witnessed of, and been told by, a newly qualified teacher whose practice is far closer to the western classroom than most of her colleagues.
(3) Returning to an earlier point: honesty and humility.
Some of this needs to be levelled at the advisory companies too.
The UAE has asked for outside agencies to improve their education system. On the face of it, this is a humble admission of want. Were this to be present in tandem with a message to its teachers (and potentials) along the lines of "We want you to excel and believe that, with the right support, you will", this would seem to be a good starting point for inviting carefully selected assistance in the right areas (as discussed).
Yet in general terms the education ruling bodies oversee a system that it continues to judge the success of through meaningless assessment tasks, and does nothing in the way of providing effective barriers to fabricating/doctoring the results of those assessments. Notwithstanding the blatant cheating that takes place in exams (at least in my school!), the stated weighting of examination relative to "continuous assessment" in the primary schools is a green light to pluck scores out of thin air to counter-balance poor scores in exams. And for those of you who don't like the constant assessment of children tied to consequences (join my club), we're talking about a country where you can find 15 year olds in primary school because they haven't cleared the end-of-year test four years running, and historically some children have always 'had to fail'. Now there seems to be a bizarre situation emerging where two competing bodies within the country's education system (the exact remit and power of each is as clear as mud) are on either side of the argument that no children should be held back according to performance. Therefore there are end-of-year tests and some children must fail them, but not too many, or none at all... no wonder the principals are confused!
So, what messages do the different characters in the play take from all this?
The teacher learns that progress need not be genuine because the word 'genuine' is not synonymous with fabrication and misrepresentation. This removes the need to improve standards in real terms, which takes the pressure away from them. Anyway many of the teachers have a sneaking feeling that most of those above them on the ladder secretly loathe any pedagogical styles different to the traditional textbook method. This further erodes any desire to take the advisors seriously.
The student learns much the same regarding progress, and this is reinforced by the fact that his teacher switches between styles according to whether or not there's an advisor in the room. His effort levels remain unchanged or deteriorate further. Anyway he has already learned that wealth is a safeguard against stupidity because if you have enough of it*** someone else will sort out your problems for you.
*** Feel free to decide for yourself whether 'it' is a pronoun for 'wealth' or 'stupidity' in this sentence.
The advisor learns that nothing (s)he tries to do to improve things need be genuine because real improvements will not be measured. For example, if (s)he works with an honest teacher, (s)he can be pretty sure that genuine progress will be offset by honesty in assessment procedures. Thus the children will appear to have made the same progress as all of the other students anyway.
Speaking for my own (anonymous!) company, misrepresentation of the truth is an institutionalised practice. Perhaps it is the amount of spin that takes place within the company that might explain why I often feel dizzy trying to make sense of what's going on. Thus the company is never culpable (although curiously its advisors often are). When my school's teachers tried to offset rather unfortunate exam marks in the first semester this year with some creative continuous assessment marks, members of my company were complicit. The main concern of the teachers was that parents would be furious, which certainly wouldn't look good for the company who were supposed to be raising standards. Thus report cards needed to be completed with a new set of marks. After the reports had been sent out, the teachers became aware that the figures to be sent to the Ministry of Education did not match those on the report cards.
'Luckily' a middle management colleague in the company suggested that the mark on the report card could be reproduced in the Ministry figures by raising other figures so that the average would be identical. One small problem: this would have meant raising certain other figures beyond their maximum, e.g. scoring 110 out of 100!
Incredibly, when the morality of the teachers kicked in and they made arrangements to collect and correct the fabricated scores on the reports, the same company figure was heard to laugh mockingly and pass comment on the dishonesty of the teachers/school/system in general.
Notwithstanding the general respect for culture that I mentioned earlier, my company and many of the advisors in it have failed to connect the cultural differences that they are aware of, with the implications of those differences. Thus they are well intentioned in trying not to pass judgement on female teachers whose ten-strong family began when she married at fifteen, but simultaneously believe that it is reasonable to expect primary teachers to plan for and teach nearly all subjects in the school day where currently they teach only English, Maths and Science. My opinion on this particular issue is unimportant; the salient point is that this represents almost double the work and is a dramatic change from what they are used to. Eventually the advisor's own socialisation and personal beliefs may be communicated in other ways; indeed, I have heard an advisor telling teachers that their families are "too big" as if that person thought she had been hired to advise on family planning as well as educational practice.
I really have no idea how coherent what I have written is, and I have writing fatigue, so I'll leave you to ponder on and respond to it!
As I alluded to earlier, I was once content in education and there was a moment (albeit a fairly drawn out one) where that changed.
When a voluntary-aided school I was working at was forced to close (through lack of voluntary aid, unfortunately), many of the students and I ended up at a neighbouring school. Everyone there was well-intentioned but on the whole it was disorganised and the farthest from an inspiring environment that I had worked in to date.
In addition to that, a colleague lent me a book by John Taylor Gatto. I've since met people who despise this book but, for me, a great deal of what was written made a lot of sense. I realised that the societal but non-school based ideal he was describing was largely impractical in London 2007, but for the first time I felt that state education was a con:
its aims were not based around the genuine enlightenment of children;
its means were designed to subjugate rather than to facilitate;
its content was far from objective and led to total ignorance of areas of knowledge that are essential for children to grow up with the unconditional willingness to understand and respect others.
Irrespective of reservations about the system, a teacher should strive to inspire and make what (s)he can of the situation, and once again I hold my hands up and say that my teaching performance started to decline badly at this point. Where a better person would have tried to improve all around them, I allowed myself to be consumed by the inadequacy of all around me.
I don't mean that I didn't teach properly, or that I had no concern for my students, or anything like that - just that I lost the spark and the energy I'd had before, and took my foot off the gas.
I couldn't imagine staying in that school beyond that academic year, so I was interested when my brother-in-law (also a teacher) told me about a job working as an education advisor in the Middle East. This opportunity had some apparent advantages:
he and his family were already there so we'd know people already;
a safe environment for my family;
the opportunity to learn Arabic (so I hoped) which for me, as a Muslim, is extremely important;
a chance to move away from class teaching, which I had decided was the main factor in my apathy towards all matters educational. This point was crucial; I convinced myself that it wasn't education I was washing my hands with - it was being a class teacher.
Really I was deluding myself so that I could take the job with a clear conscience ; the truth is that I was a good class teacher and it was my feeling about the bigger picture that was destroying my enthusiasm for teaching.
On the positive side, it meant that I began to thoroughly analyse everything I was required to teach. In other words I developed, 13 years after leaving school, the automatic tendency to search for an alternative angle on what others took as truths and accepted unquestioningly.
On the negative side, I became obsessed with looking for faults in those above me who seemed to be those unquestioning practitioners. I started to resent their obedience and restlessly complain to myself about their inability or lack of inclination to challenge what they were being told to present as gospel.
Anyone who's worked on the UAE project as an advisor (as opposed to those very few who have the opportunity to steer policy) will read the previous paragraph and know that I could never have been content in the job I took next.
There are layers of control that are shared between competing institutions in the UAE and the providers it has hired to advise its schools, and, nine months after starting here, I am really none the wiser as to who genuinely has a coherent vision and/or realistic roadmap of how to get to it. I'm not sure any of them do either.
If you've read 1984, well, on a less sinister level, working for an advisory company in the UAE is like being at war with Eurasia. When, suddenly, one of the unconvincing educational principles that you've been told to promote and defend to the sceptical teachers (who basically hold the same opinion as you, only you're not allowed to say so)... when one of those principles changes: you were never at war with Eurasia. You were always at war with Eastasia, and Eurasia have always been your allies!
So, this year I've always been able to plan subject-specific lessons with my teachers, because the thematically planned and practical style of teaching and learning has always been a step beyond what one could realistically expect from teachers who previously taught only one subject (two in some cases) from a textbook, day in, day out.
This is just one example; if I continued with others, I'd be writing for the rest of this week and would have nothing left for the rest of the year, so I'll resist for the time being.
The problem is, working in the UAE, these deliberate distortions of memory are de riguer anyway. That's why a child who has applied himself less than 1% in class all year, and had a family member or maid complete his homework, can take satisfaction from his end-of-year pass mark when it arrives soon after an exam he barely remembers taking. The mark is there, therefore his application has been sufficient.
Likewise, the teacher has passed the majority of her students, therefore her teaching has been up to scratch.
Similarly, the advisory provider's school has seen most its students pass, so the advice has been of a good quality.
I have been a witness to, and where possible a conscientious objector against, the adjustment and fabrication of assessment marks, both by the school and the company I work for. As recently as yesterday one of the teachers showed me a relatively genuine results spreadsheet and asked,
"The principal says all the boys must pass. What to do?"
As an advice to all human beings, with myself at the top of the list in terms of those most in need of it,
Be honest with yourself.
Be honest with yourself, and move on.
A man who beats his son black and blue and then pays a small fortune for a dermatologist to pass comment on abnormal skin discolouration, is wasting his money.
A country who call outsiders to redesign her education system and then, when it comes to assessment, is party to a greater work of fiction than she could currently hope for one of her students to produce in creative writing, is wasting her money.
I wanted to talk about facing up to truths here, but I checked myself for arrogance and I thank God for allowing me the presence of mind to remember that what I am saying is only my opinion. Be both objective and critical as you read on.
So, in my opinion, I believe that there are some fundamental problems with the path that this country has chosen and, in mentioning them, I will detach myself from my personal reservations about the education system which, in terms of the idea of sending students to a place and implying that they should take all of their knowledge in that context alone, was already extremely similar to the western style, before any intervention.
(1) This is a Muslim country. There is no compulsion in the religion you choose to accept, and all are welcome here*, but the first principle of state actions must be to keep Islam as its determining influence. Whilst individuals I have worked with and observed are generally extremely respectful of religion and culture here, it is unreasonable to expect that non-Muslims will steer policy in a direction chosen according to Islamic principles. Similarly, were I asked to set the educational agenda in a Hinduism-based context, I am sure I would be found severely lacking in my ability to do this in the most suitable manner for Hindus.
Yet the curriculum comes from New South Wales and History is not taught in primary schools. Why? Is there not enough history in this part of the world? Well, that might be the impression I formed when I was at school (if I was actually even aware of where the Middle East was) but I know it not to be the case now.
I have seen enough to remind me of the generally high quality of teaching and learning styles of western-trained (or as a more accurate grouping: English-tongued) practitioners and I personally believe these styles do represent a potential for improvement on the quality of teaching and learning in the UAE. But I'm talking pedagogy here, not curriculum!
*Sadly some seem to be more welcome than others - but I'll save that one for another post.
(2) There is an obsession with English here. Perhaps this is a reflection of the wider obsession with the western world. But France is part of the western world and, the last time I checked, the French education system was not attempting to teach all subjects through the medium of English! Yet France, like the UAE, believes that English is a key language to master in the modern world, and I take no issue with that opinion.
I must confess total ignorance as to the general standard of French in France, but I would be surprised if it's lower than the level of modern standard Arabic in the UAE**. So why not obsess about improving the Arabic at least as well as the English?
**Please note that I say this not as anything more than a beginner in Arabic, but based on the feedback I have received from native Arabic speaking advisors in my company).
I appreciate that I said in (1) that I believe those who have come from English-speaking countries to improve teaching and learning, generally have the expertise to do so. Others I have sounded off to see this is a key argument for teaching all subjects through English, but I disagree. There are several alternative ways that the passing of teaching techniques could be passed from the English speaker to the Arab teacher. Two that spring to mind are:
*A huge exposure of designated Arab teachers to non-UAE classrooms where subjects like Science and Maths are taught effectively through English, so that they are in a position to observe and internalise lesson structure and specific activity ideas. They would then be best placed to impart knowledge to other teachers. (Trust me, I've delivered and watched training sessions to teachers and they don't understand half as much in English as you think/hope they do. They're far more likely to learn effectively from teachers speaking their first language, and watching those teachers model lessons for them in their own language). An ability to understand English well would be highly advantageous for these designated teachers but, if you think this is unrealistic, you need to remember again that the level of English spoken/understood by most teachers in schools at the moment, is not particularly high either! So how much are they understanding from the advisors?!
Now, where to find these strong teachers in English-speaking schools? How about England? (or Canada, USA, Australia, etc...) It's not as if the UAE doesn't have enough money to send the designated teachers there to see some good practice. And it's also not true that the UAE doesn't have any good teachers just because until recently they have taught in a different style. There are some very enthusiastic and potentially very creative ones, the resilience of whom has struck me as being far greater than my own.
*Subject-specific skills and knowledge can generally be taught in a proportion of English lessons, by shifting the emphasis towards vocabulary (e.g. re-covering Science and Mathematical concepts previously taught through Arabic, this time with a 'western' style of teaching and using relevant vocabulary). This allows consolidation for the student, and an opportunity for the teacher to witness the pedagogy. This is meaningful modelling by the advisor too, since (s)he can work within his/her specialist area but with a slightly greater focus on English which is, after all, his/her first language. The students' education doesn't hinge on the lesson because they began to learn it in Arabic already. Thus they have a headstart in terms of their chances of understanding, and are more likely to remain focused in the lesson.
Both of these ideas should be employed with a compatible university/college training system for new teachers. The beginnings of this appear to be in place, based on what I have witnessed of, and been told by, a newly qualified teacher whose practice is far closer to the western classroom than most of her colleagues.
(3) Returning to an earlier point: honesty and humility.
Some of this needs to be levelled at the advisory companies too.
The UAE has asked for outside agencies to improve their education system. On the face of it, this is a humble admission of want. Were this to be present in tandem with a message to its teachers (and potentials) along the lines of "We want you to excel and believe that, with the right support, you will", this would seem to be a good starting point for inviting carefully selected assistance in the right areas (as discussed).
Yet in general terms the education ruling bodies oversee a system that it continues to judge the success of through meaningless assessment tasks, and does nothing in the way of providing effective barriers to fabricating/doctoring the results of those assessments. Notwithstanding the blatant cheating that takes place in exams (at least in my school!), the stated weighting of examination relative to "continuous assessment" in the primary schools is a green light to pluck scores out of thin air to counter-balance poor scores in exams. And for those of you who don't like the constant assessment of children tied to consequences (join my club), we're talking about a country where you can find 15 year olds in primary school because they haven't cleared the end-of-year test four years running, and historically some children have always 'had to fail'. Now there seems to be a bizarre situation emerging where two competing bodies within the country's education system (the exact remit and power of each is as clear as mud) are on either side of the argument that no children should be held back according to performance. Therefore there are end-of-year tests and some children must fail them, but not too many, or none at all... no wonder the principals are confused!
So, what messages do the different characters in the play take from all this?
The teacher learns that progress need not be genuine because the word 'genuine' is not synonymous with fabrication and misrepresentation. This removes the need to improve standards in real terms, which takes the pressure away from them. Anyway many of the teachers have a sneaking feeling that most of those above them on the ladder secretly loathe any pedagogical styles different to the traditional textbook method. This further erodes any desire to take the advisors seriously.
The student learns much the same regarding progress, and this is reinforced by the fact that his teacher switches between styles according to whether or not there's an advisor in the room. His effort levels remain unchanged or deteriorate further. Anyway he has already learned that wealth is a safeguard against stupidity because if you have enough of it*** someone else will sort out your problems for you.
*** Feel free to decide for yourself whether 'it' is a pronoun for 'wealth' or 'stupidity' in this sentence.
The advisor learns that nothing (s)he tries to do to improve things need be genuine because real improvements will not be measured. For example, if (s)he works with an honest teacher, (s)he can be pretty sure that genuine progress will be offset by honesty in assessment procedures. Thus the children will appear to have made the same progress as all of the other students anyway.
Speaking for my own (anonymous!) company, misrepresentation of the truth is an institutionalised practice. Perhaps it is the amount of spin that takes place within the company that might explain why I often feel dizzy trying to make sense of what's going on. Thus the company is never culpable (although curiously its advisors often are). When my school's teachers tried to offset rather unfortunate exam marks in the first semester this year with some creative continuous assessment marks, members of my company were complicit. The main concern of the teachers was that parents would be furious, which certainly wouldn't look good for the company who were supposed to be raising standards. Thus report cards needed to be completed with a new set of marks. After the reports had been sent out, the teachers became aware that the figures to be sent to the Ministry of Education did not match those on the report cards.
'Luckily' a middle management colleague in the company suggested that the mark on the report card could be reproduced in the Ministry figures by raising other figures so that the average would be identical. One small problem: this would have meant raising certain other figures beyond their maximum, e.g. scoring 110 out of 100!
Incredibly, when the morality of the teachers kicked in and they made arrangements to collect and correct the fabricated scores on the reports, the same company figure was heard to laugh mockingly and pass comment on the dishonesty of the teachers/school/system in general.
Notwithstanding the general respect for culture that I mentioned earlier, my company and many of the advisors in it have failed to connect the cultural differences that they are aware of, with the implications of those differences. Thus they are well intentioned in trying not to pass judgement on female teachers whose ten-strong family began when she married at fifteen, but simultaneously believe that it is reasonable to expect primary teachers to plan for and teach nearly all subjects in the school day where currently they teach only English, Maths and Science. My opinion on this particular issue is unimportant; the salient point is that this represents almost double the work and is a dramatic change from what they are used to. Eventually the advisor's own socialisation and personal beliefs may be communicated in other ways; indeed, I have heard an advisor telling teachers that their families are "too big" as if that person thought she had been hired to advise on family planning as well as educational practice.
I really have no idea how coherent what I have written is, and I have writing fatigue, so I'll leave you to ponder on and respond to it!
The End is Nigh...
I've been putting off starting a blog for ages.
Actually, that's not strictly true - I've only procrastinated in terms of starting an English blog. I tried writing one in Arabic back when I arrived here in Al Ain (UAE) in August 2007. I've no idea if it was any good because most of the work was done by my dictionary and only once did I receive a reply to anything I'd written (thanks Mum - I'll translate for you once I've worked out what I said).
So what's the motivation for writing one now? Hang on, "motivation"? I remember that word!! I used to have it before I came out here to work as an education advisor. It was something that made me get up in the morning ungrudgingly, with enthusiasm to make a difference and do my best. In those days I didn't believe that there was a single futile aspect to my job. I believed in the education system as an entirely uncorrupted and essential tool for children. Even after I lost my confidence in that ideal, I still thought I could come to the UAE and make some sort of difference to the quality of teaching and learning (and, hopefully, in a minutely atom-like miniscule-ish kind of way, I have, but this is certainly no heroic achievement on my part and God knows I have not done my best).
Now I'm heading home with no idea of what I'm good at any more (or at least, no idea what I might be good at that I haven't already lost faith in) and even contemplating random jobs the prospect of which make various members of my family collapse in hysterics...
"You, a plumber!? Remember that time you blew up the boiler??" (wife)
"A driving instructor?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHA!!!" (no justification supplied for laughter - again, thanks Mum)
To be fair, at least my brother-in-law tried to make me feel more optimistic about the plumber option.
"...when you apply yourself.... I reckon if you're actually motivated to be a plumber, you'd be the best plumber around. You'd be like, 'Bad news Ma'am, there's a problem in your Youtube...'"
(well, I guess I'd make a better plumber than him then!)
Anyway, only six weeks to go... 30 working days...
That's 30 working days in which to reflect on why this job has been so overwhelmingly awful and - outside of working hours of course - to post many of these reflections on here so as to ensure I never forget the reasons why I want to trade a well-paid job in a safe country for no job (as yet!) in the UK.
And this, dear reader (er... still you, Mum), is the motivation for the opening of this blog.
Actually, that's not strictly true - I've only procrastinated in terms of starting an English blog. I tried writing one in Arabic back when I arrived here in Al Ain (UAE) in August 2007. I've no idea if it was any good because most of the work was done by my dictionary and only once did I receive a reply to anything I'd written (thanks Mum - I'll translate for you once I've worked out what I said).
So what's the motivation for writing one now? Hang on, "motivation"? I remember that word!! I used to have it before I came out here to work as an education advisor. It was something that made me get up in the morning ungrudgingly, with enthusiasm to make a difference and do my best. In those days I didn't believe that there was a single futile aspect to my job. I believed in the education system as an entirely uncorrupted and essential tool for children. Even after I lost my confidence in that ideal, I still thought I could come to the UAE and make some sort of difference to the quality of teaching and learning (and, hopefully, in a minutely atom-like miniscule-ish kind of way, I have, but this is certainly no heroic achievement on my part and God knows I have not done my best).
Now I'm heading home with no idea of what I'm good at any more (or at least, no idea what I might be good at that I haven't already lost faith in) and even contemplating random jobs the prospect of which make various members of my family collapse in hysterics...
"You, a plumber!? Remember that time you blew up the boiler??" (wife)
"A driving instructor?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHA!!!" (no justification supplied for laughter - again, thanks Mum)
To be fair, at least my brother-in-law tried to make me feel more optimistic about the plumber option.
"...when you apply yourself.... I reckon if you're actually motivated to be a plumber, you'd be the best plumber around. You'd be like, 'Bad news Ma'am, there's a problem in your Youtube...'"
(well, I guess I'd make a better plumber than him then!)
Anyway, only six weeks to go... 30 working days...
That's 30 working days in which to reflect on why this job has been so overwhelmingly awful and - outside of working hours of course - to post many of these reflections on here so as to ensure I never forget the reasons why I want to trade a well-paid job in a safe country for no job (as yet!) in the UK.
And this, dear reader (er... still you, Mum), is the motivation for the opening of this blog.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)