By
Zhi Wei Lee
A
consideration of the debate on vernacular schools, and the important
roles that both national and vernacular schools have to play in
Malaysia.
The debate on vernacular schools in
Malaysia is often misleading, unconstructive and damaging. I say this
because much discourse and opinions about vernacular schools have a
dangerous tendency to suffer from oversimplification; you are either for
the vernacular school, or you are for its abolition. This is little
more than politicised banter — on one hand, it preaches to the choir;
but on the other, it unnecessarily stirs up divisive communal
frustrations. We must acknowledge that this recurring controversy is
deeply-rooted in the convoluted web that is the fabric of Malaysian
society — some of which our own doing, others an indirect result of
British colonialism. Either way, its complexity demands greater
attention and certainly, deeper analysis.
To be clear, this article will advocate
no position for or against the vernacular school; rather, it aims to
highlight three key issues that matter — culture, nation-building and
general quality of education — and to finally assess what they mean for
the vernacular school (and indeed, its counterpart: the national school)
in the future of the Malaysian educational landscape.
When discussing any Malaysian affairs
with ethnic undertones, we must keep in mind one key thing: as much as
an idealist would like to believe otherwise, the current Malaysian
society does not yet view itself as a collective; rather, we identify
ourselves — both consciously and unconsciously — as distinct entities
which make up a whole. As such, our perspectives on issues that affect
us are often viewed through communal lenses, depending on which entity
we believe we belong to and our communal upbringing. This context rings
strongly for the issue of vernacular schools, which is why culture
should be at the crux of any discussion regarding its condition.
In particular, the survival of the
vernacular school is often strongly associated with the survival of the
minorities’ culture; in this case the Chinese and Indians.
Traditionalists, especially those from previous generations, are usually
quick to defend the vernacular school with the idea that it represents
their identity as a people. The use of the mother tongue as a medium of
instruction is seen to keep the young connected to their cultural roots,
and the lessons culturally enriching through history, literature and
ethics, all of which are believed to be exclusive to the vernacular
system. As such, an attack on the vernacular school is held to be
tantamount to an attack on culture.
There are two dimensions to this association.
The first one is politically and
emotionally charged. Passionate defenders of the vernacular school will
not hesitate to express their fears that without vernacular education,
the younger generation will slowly forget their own culture and thus
their identity. Coming from a national school, I can see where such
fears come from: after all, when I compare myself to my peers who
underwent vernacular education, they are clearly superior in their
cultural awareness. The combination of passion, pride and fear creates
an incredibly fragile atmosphere.It necessitates discourse that rises
above the aforementioned for-and-against positioning; it calls for
empathy and acknowledgement of these cultural insecurities. Put simply,
taking this into account, an outright advocacy for abolition is
politically unfeasible and counterproductive to the national cause, as
it will exacerbate social discord.
The second dimension is more moderate
and encompasses both cultural and quality concerns: some segments of the
minorities associate the survival of culture with the survival of the
vernacular school simply because they lack faith in the state’s ability
to effectively protect (let alone execute) the education of culture
through the national school system. When juxtaposed against the firmly
established and time-tested machinery of the vernacular institutions,
some are unconvinced that the national schools can even compete on the
grounds of cultural education, let alone provide a superior option. To
add further detriment, proponents of vernacular schools are quick to
point out that the general quality of education in vernacular schools is
simply higher, as evidenced by better results.
While traditionalists and the older
generation are concerned with cultural politics, the second dimension is
much more reflective of most parents today — they demand a quality,
wholesome education for their children, and their children will be sent
to institutions that meet that demand. The current status quo — with 90%
of Chinese children and 60% of Tamil children attending vernacular
schools — suggests that the vernacular school offers just that. Being a
student from a national school and a firm believer in nation building,
this is personally disappointing but the fact of the matter is, I have
little reason to dispute the decisions of the parents.
However, the cause of national schools
is all but lost. Merit must be given to national schools because they
are potentially superior for nation building purposes. Nation building
is a desirable goal because it lays down the appropriate social,
cultural and political foundations upon which a country can effectively
and efficiently utilise its resources. While the extent to which
education systems can be relied upon as the state’ s instrument to shape
society is a debate in its own right; what is certain, though, is that
education systems are a strong reinforcing agent of values and
perspectives. In the pursuit of nation building, the kind of values and
perspectives we should seek to reinforce in schools should be those
which celebrate diversity and recognize each ethnic community’s cultural
complexities and nuances. In other words, our schools should be a
microcosm of the real Malaysian society.
This idea of nationhood goes beyond
sentimental patriotism; from a practical standpoint, the inability of a
nation’s own citizens to feel a sense of belonging and a sense of shared
destiny can lead (and in Malaysia, has led) to an outflow of human
capital. In the domestic economy, lack of a "collective" view can be an
impediment to fulfilling our full economic potential as we allow
diverging communal interests to constantly act as a destabilising force —
this is becoming increasingly relevant in Malaysia.
With these values and perspectives in
mind, the national school is clearly superior. Albeit all its
imperfections, the main positive of the national school, as it stands —
from both a national and parental viewpoint — is that it serves as a
much better platform for a child to grasp the idea of the Malaysian
society; that is, the racially and culturally diverse Malaysia. If we
accept that the environment is very capable of influencing the beliefs
and behaviour of children, then we must accept that children who grow up
in national schools are less likely to grow up in ignorance of their
ethnically distinct peers. Consequently, with cross-cultural
experiences, they are more likely to develop crucial skills in
effectively engaging and communicating with a wider mix of people.
Based on experience of my own and my
peers, this is a compelling argument which goes beyond rhetoric,
especially when we look at less urbanised parts of Malaysia, where
physical communal separation is relatively significant. Again, returning
to the idea of schools as a reinforcing agent of values and
perspectives, an arguably more "Malaysian" environment is primarily
absent in vernacular schools. As a result, those who come from
communities with a more monolithic cultural background (a highly common
phenomenon in less developed areas) and go to vernacular schools are
more likely to reinforce the biased cultural lenses through which they
view the world.
Drawing upon these two fundamental
elements of culture and nation building, there are important practical
considerations for both national and vernacular schools. As national
schools are essentially under the aegis of the state, their
responsibility cannot be excluded from this discussion. The first step
for Malaysian politicians and educationists is cease thinking about what
to do with vernacular schools; rather, they should worry more about
what to do with the national schools. Even if a one-school system,
presumably under national schools, is the final goal, staunch opposition
is not constructive.
Instead, a market-oriented view must be
adopted; in layman’s terms, since parents dictate the terms of what they
demand from the education system, the state must be responsive to these
demands. If the state can rise up to the challenge, then surely, on a
behavioral level, parents will be incentivised to send their children to
national schools. As it stands, there are two primary demands from
parents: one, they want cultural education; two, they want quality
education. The state must seek to incorporate effective teaching of
Mandarin and Tamil alongside the national language, and perhaps even
compel every student to master all three languages from a primary level.
It cannot afford to attempt to relegate cultural education to the
household and assume that it will be sufficient; parents are clearly
sending a different signal. In fact, instead of viewing vernacular
schools with hostility, the state can be proactive and see how things
are done differently in vernacular schools; surely, there are valuable
lessons to be learnt by the national school system.
Source: flickr.com/xiangxi
With regards to improving the general
quality of education, the state needs to go beyond the idea that more
spending is better; in fact, a reconsideration of the way funds are
allocated and managed is required. There are two reasons for this.
The first is political; given the
delicate state of affairs and the relatively low funding for vernacular
schools, pumping more money into the national schools may serve only to
galvanise the convictions of proponents of vernacular schools —
particularly pro-vernacular parents — that the government cares little
for their respective communities. What matters is not whether these
claims are real, what matters is that they exist and that they are very
legitimate in the minds of pro-vernacular parents, a formidable interest
group in its own right. And because of that, the ignorance of these
conditions — by increasing spending on national schools while starving
vernacular schools of funding — will only widen the wedge between
communal and national perspectives. The state’s aim of nation building
that strives for a society that is able to view Malaysia as a collective
whole will fall on deaf ears if the state itself will not listen to
these political fears.
The second involves the systemic
problems of our national schools. The state needs to deal with a
multitude of things: various incentive problems within the teaching
profession, the selection and training of our teachers, national schools
which don’t really seem "nationalised" — the list goes on. These
problems reflect much wider concerns about the implementation of our
educational policies and can only be effectively elaborated in an
article of its own (perhaps even that would not suffice). The truth is,
many of the less traditional-minded parents would send their children to
national schools — if only it would not compromise their children’s
quality of education.
As for the vernacular schools, they are
clearly in a better standing at the moment. Despite the little funding
that they receive from the government, they continue to thrive and
attract new students. This displays remarkable resilience on the part of
the vernacular schools; their strengths as well as their unique
educational culture are valid calls for preservation. Assuming that
national schools do rise up to the occasion and eventually provide
enviable standards of education, it still does not mean that vernacular
schools will become an anachronism in Malaysia.
Having said that, the vernacular schools
— as part of our nation’s education services — still have a
responsibility in nation building as well. In the collective interest of
the country, vernacular schools should detach themselves from their
perceived role as the stalwarts of Chinese and Indian identity.
Vernacular schools should not be on the defensive; they enjoy success
and are very reputable academically — they should exploit this. To be
more precise, they should thus actively pursue a wider demographic mix
that is more reflective of the national population. Increasingly, more
Malay parents are beginning to send their children to vernacular schools
— vernacular schools should welcome this.
This strategy projects an important
idea: that vernacular schools — contrary to popular belief — are not
exclusive to those of a particular ethnic origin. This is important
because it would represent a significant paradigm shift: no longer will
vernacular schools be viewed as institutions that propagate and defend
culture. Rather, they become institutions that are inclusive and offer a
unique educational experience.
Ultimately, with regards to the issue of
vernacular schools in Malaysia, the onus lies on the national schools
(and thus the state) to prove itself as a better option to the general
public. The idea of forcibly imposing one-school system under the name
of nation building is out of the question, at least until the immense
popularity of vernacular schools diminishes — and that is extremely
unlikely. Thus, the government today has a clear ultimatum: it can
either rebuild the good reputation that our national schools used to
carry proudly; or, it can choose to allow that to remain as a forgotten
relic of the past. For our country’s sake, I pray it does the former.
Zhi Wei
is big fan of music, big ideas and enjoys a good debate every now and
then. He believes in the power of the simpler things in life, and
expresses them vicariously through daily doodles of a fat penguin at www.afatpenguin.tumblr.com
GEORGE
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