Online Learning

Recently, a friend commented that school in general is not about doing what you want to do anymore, but rather doing what you can do. At first, this statement did not hit me, but after a bit of thought, I really began to see the blinding truth behind it.

In our bid to attain that thick envelope saying ‘Princeton’ on the cover, I think most students have forgotten what education is truly all about. In a conversation with 10th graders on my bus about course selection over the last few days, many of them confessed to have chosen a particular class because “It’s an easy 7” or “Most students who take this class get 5’s“. On a side note, needless to say, IB Math HL was one of the least popular choices. (Sorry Ms. Bailey). However, the fact remains that our education these days is based on the potential grade that the student can attain rather than how challenging or fascinating the course content is to the student. While the administration in SAS still believes in this philosophy of “challenging yourself”(and bravo for it, I say), I am sad to admit that not all schools in the world see the same light.

This change in thinking can be attributed, once again, to globalization and the theory of connectivism. As we are connected to people worldwide, we tend to compare what we have to what they have, and, humans being humans, this has exploded into the competitive, fast-paced world of today. Riding on Celine’s post about the Technology Isolation Syndrome, we have been sprinting forward in leaps and bounds that we have no time to “stop to smell the roses”. As with the problems faced by the link between people and technology in today’s society, the purpose of education, too has suffered as a result of the underlying competitive nature of the world today.

The video that Jenny posted on the shifts that are happening in the world today really reflects on this phenomenon. I would like to draw attention to the portion of the video that stated, “Did you know? That by the time you have finished your third year in college, everything you learnt in your first year would be obsolete”. The flow of information has sped up to such a breakneck rate and this has definitely had an effect on the changing purpose of education. Students nowadays yearn for places in the top schools so that by the time they graduate, only the reputation of the school which they go to remains, even if the information they learnt while attending there does not. The fast-moving world scares us, so we yearn to identify ourselves by who we know or where we attended school, not at all by what we know, and it just so happens that this haven lies in the hallowed halls of Harvard and other Ivy Leaguers.

Anyway, back to the purpose of education. Another example of the sad truth we face today is when I returned to Singapore during the CNY break. Over the traditional visitation of friends and family, I spoke to a number of friends who either were doing the IB programme, or already graduated from it. When we were talking about courses and what HL classes we were taking, I told them that I was in IB Chinese A2, which is basically a Chinese literature course. Instantly, all my friends laughed at me, saying that I was foolish for taking that class. I asked them why. Here’s their answer, but first a bit of background. In Singapore, Chinese is the thorn in the side for many people as they are forced to learn it as a second language. I was one of those people and was the butt of many jokes when I found out I was moving to China. But, my friends, who have been taking the same number of years of Chinese as me, and who were all more proficient at the language than I am, ended up taking IB B Chinese as their second language in the IB programme. The knowledge that I was taking a way harder class than they were even though I may be less qualified for it prompted one of them, who had achieved a perfect score in his IB programme that year, told me that almost everyone in the school took IB B Chinese, even though according to IB standards, they are over-qualified for it. I was not only surprised, but felt a little angry at my Chinese teacher here at SAS for putting me into A2, where I’m getting a low grade, where, compared to my friends, I could be in B Chinese, having a ball of a time because to all of us, it is considered one of those easy classes.

Naturally, when I came back from break, I complained to my Chinese teacher about this. Then, true to the SAS philosophy of course selection, she calmly explained why she put me into my present class. But I did not listen, and wanted to switch out. It was through this battle that I came to realize the true purpose of education. Even though I may not be fully qualified for A2 Chinese, my teacher felt that my ideas and learning style were suited to the class, and that it would not only would my ideas be useless, but my time would also be fruitless, in B Chinese. I am happy to say that I may still complain about it from time to time, but I am quite enjoying myself in my present A2 class. I must add that on hindsight, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I was not allowed to switch out.

I am not saying that my friends are bad people, or that the school administration is wrong, but I strongly believe that they should rethink their purpose as an educating institution, about their true values and goals as educators. Is it really worth it to give up the zest and energy that comes from understanding a new concept or learning a new fact for that perfect score? I know in the world of today, the answer for most people would be yes, but then again, if we allow this to happen, what would become of our world in the future? The perfect score for IB is a tantalizing delight, but it is only a short term one. What we challenge ourselves to learn now, will remain with us forever.

This definitely has an effect on the future of our society. If we all take easy classes containing information that we already know, would the information pool not stagnate eventually? There will come a time when noone creates new knowledge anymore, when we happily enjoy the comfort, whether in a high score or a place in Harvard, of what we already have with the illusion that it is building us a better future, when in fact it is not. We have sought too much physical gain to realize the malnourishment that our souls and minds are receiving by not challenging ourselves to create knowledge.