Education has become a
buzzword that is repeatedly said for two opposing reasons: one, to emphasize
its significance and two, to banish it to obsolescence. Some groups throw it
around as if it were a hot potato that nobody can hold for more than a few
seconds, while others cradle it the way a protective mother would cradle her
newborn baby. The word “education” has sparked a conflict of interest between
those who want to defend its importance and those who can no longer tolerate
its failure. And like most conflicts, the ones who suffer most are those caught
in the crossfire: the students.
As a contributor to the
fringes of the established education system, I feel lucky to have the
opportunity to observe the situation from a relatively safe distance. This
situation that I speak of has unfortunately not changed much since my school
years: students’ general indifference to the subjects they learn, parents’
under or over-involvement in their children’s academic pursuits, teachers’
reluctance to explore or prohibition from expanding on existing material.
Almost everyone is stuck in his or her role regardless of how well s/he is able
to play it. It is not only unfair, but also ridiculous to congratulate those
who have fulfilled the requirements when the standard of education itself is
unclear. Both conformity and rebellion lose their meaning.
Despite the stasis,
however, I have noticed one notable change: the role of language. All of a
sudden, one language—usually the mother tongue—is not enough. In addition to
the demands of parents, teachers and society, students now have to deal with
the increasingly unreasonable call for mastering a second or even third
language. Acquiring the ability to speak a language other than one’s own is
certainly not a bad thing, but when not possessing sufficient command of
another is seen as a flaw, a series of serious problems may arise.
In my experience working
as an English trainer and private tutor, I have talked to a lot of parents who
think that their children are somehow left behind or just not good enough for
their grade level. Considering the status of English as an international bridge
language, or lingua franca, I understand such concerns. However, as I
have already mentioned in the previous paragraph, when English—or any foreign
language for that matter—is seen as a sheer necessity rather than an additional
skill that can help to enrich one’s understanding of the world, it becomes just
another boring school subject that is measured in terms of test scores. This is
especially true when one learns a new language in a country where it is not
spoken in daily life. There is no sense of urgency, even if catching up to
“global standards” seems like the most urgent thing for children and teenagers growing
up in this challenging era.
Yet this is exactly the
problem. Are these “global standards” realistic and relevant to everyone?
Language is a means of survival. Anyone who has studied, worked or lived abroad
would tell you that, but survival is not the sole purpose of learning a
language, and you do not have to extract yourself from your home country in
order to realize this. It is important to look beyond language’s grammatical
structures, vocabulary and variety of sounds. Because within every language is
an abundance of knowledge that can never be exhausted. How can you study
a new language properly if you do not see your own as an equally vital part of
Language (with a capital “L,” or what prominent thinkers in the past have
referred to as “the totality of language”)? By treating language as a purely
utilitarian element of academic or professional life—or worse, as a symbol of
collective identity—we are taking one of humanity’s greatest achievements for
granted.
Having said that, I am
impelled to repeat this question: Are the “global standards” realistic and
relevant to everyone? Well, no. While some aspire to survive on the global
stage or at least be ready to do so, others do not or for whatever reason,
cannot. But the more important question is this: Should access to a second
language (or the general study of language) only be reserved for those who want
to and can go abroad? No, it should not. But in order for the study of language
to break out of its completely functional orientation on the one hand, and its
socio-economic exclusiveness on the other, the way language is taught and discussed
in all levels of primary, secondary, and even higher educational institutions,
have to be completely restructured.
To turn language into
yet another battlefield for counter-productive competition will only complicate
the already worrying state of the education system and the concept of education
itself. There is more to be done than putting extra effort into acquiring
linguistic skills. We are polishing the wrong side of the coin. In fact, we are
not even polishing it—we are licking it. Are we, without realizing it, urging
children to construct more tongues so that they can do the same daunting task
more efficiently?