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As you read this, are your children in school, or engaged in some schoolwork-related activity?
For years, many parents and pupils have complained about an education system that places too much emphasis on examinations – creating high levels of stress and robbing children of the joy of learning. Yet many of these same parents have reservations on whether doing away with exams for Primary One and Primary Two will affect their children’s readiness for PSLE.
Already, 16 schools have done away with end-of-semester exams for their Primary One pupils, and in three years' time, the Ministry of Education (MOE) expects all primary schools to embark on holistic assessment, relying more on consistent feedback on pupils' progress, strengths and weaknesses than raw test scores to help children move up
My take: you’ve got to start somewhere, and experimenting with weightage, changing exam structure etc, will barely create scuffmarks in a system where schoolchildren and parents are resigned to either ‘sink or swim’ whenever exams lurk around the corner. A mid-year exam, by any other name or structure, is still an EXAM.
Doing away with exams, at least for the six and seven-year-olds in P1 and P2, is a significant step towards giving due credit to alternative ways of assessment. In addition, it is a big and long- awaited nod towards acknowledging that we should let children BE children.
And to those who scoff and say that we’re simply delaying the stress till they hit Primary 3, I ask: Is sitting for exams year-in-year-out making it any easier to cope with these challenges? I don’t think so.
Rather, if doing this will help our young children embrace and enjoy learning, then by all means let’s keep at it. Anything that will help young minds ease into the rigour of the academic journey – that will demand their time, energy and commitment for a good decade and more – is worth trying.
And for those who are familiar with this refrain, “My child has difficulty performing well in exams, but I KNOW he is smart and has been revising his work”, this major boost towards a less exam-oriented paradigm for assessment should come as great news.
Of course, I’ve a few things on my wish list that would make me feel more assured about the long-term success of this strategy. That ALL teachers get the training they need to effectively apply alternative modes of teaching and assessment. That this training be structured and paced out in a way that doesn’t add undue stress to their already significant workload. That teachers get adequate help IN the classroom setting from Allied Educators and other teaching support staff. And that all effort is done to educate parents and other education stakeholders through workshops, briefings and forum sessions on how this system works and how they can complement what the schools are doing.
Till then, I smile at my six-year-old and every other gap-toothed child I see… and hope that the inquisitive sparkle I see in their eyes will keep on shining – long after they’ve sat for their last exam.
What are your thoughts on the Ministry of Education’s move to abolish exams for Primary 1 and Primary 2? Do share your views with us.
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When my boys started to attend school, we would dutifully take out (‘dust off’ actually) our “ethnic costumes” the night before Racial Harmony Day and pick one presentable enough to withstand the day’s activities. And as luck would have it, the older one was due to participate in a capteh competition today, so I thought – ok, plenty of legroom for stretching and kicking is more important that a more stylish one…never mind if the pair we picked looked like baggy satin pajamas.
I never had problems dressing my kids whenever the “ethnic costume” note came in from their schools, so I chuckled to myself when Friend A said that her soon-to-be 5-year-old son Dayan balked at having to wear an ethnic costume for school. On the bright side though, she was glad that her son was not so keen on being “coded “ethnically” and according to the clothes he wears. Friend B remarked said that the only reason he felt that way was because he was not wearing it often enough, and that if he did, he would think it was the norm, ‘just like the aunties who wear their pajamas to the market every day.’ (I have something else to say about that, but I’ll stay on topic for now .)
I was glad that my own boys didn’t complicate matters for me, but I was wondering if they felt more conscious about being “Malay” or being “ethnically coded” whenever they wore their Baju Melayu. The older one, particularly, enjoyed wearing his baju whenever the occasion called for it. So I asked him, “I notice that you like wearing your Baju Melayu. Why?”
My 9-year-old’s practical reply, “I like it because I can run better; my school shorts are too tight. But I don’t like it when the auntie at the coffeeshop asks me if I want extra sambal for my nasi lemak. She never asks me if I want sambal when I wear my uniform. Sometime she doesn’t ask and just gives a lot, so wasted! When I asked her why she gives me so much sambal, she said “Malays eat sambal, you are Malay right?’”
So from this reply, I deduced the following and shared them with my boy: - My boy needs new shorts - Wearing Baju Melayu makes my boy look more Malay - Some people perceive that Malays eat more chilli than members of other ethnic groups
While he had no difficulty processing no. 1, it took a while to explain numbers 2 and 3. That we all give out a certain “code” to others based on how we look, what we wear, even HOW we wear it, and that this will conjure up different “rules of engagement”. Like rain when you’ve just hung your clothes out to dry, or floods in Orchard Road, like it or not, that’s how the wheel turns and will continue to turn. The lady in tudong would never be offered a sample of bak kwa at the neighbourhood supermarket. But the fair ‘ah pek’ with greying hair and single eyelids might smile bemusedly at the teenage newspaper boy who tries to sell him a copy of Lianhe Zaobao, before he replies, "Ada Berita Harian tak?"
As simply as possible, I tried to explain all these. And I posed this question: should we do anything about it, when we know it happens all the time and isn’t about to stop anytime soon?
Again – a practical boy demands a practical solution and we agreed: If it will make people unhappy, or something not good will happen because of it, then perhaps we should do something if we can. And we further agreed that wastage, even of sambal, was NOT GOOD.
So, I reminded my son that the next time he buys nasi lemak while dressed in his Baju Melayu, he should say, “Auntie, I am Malay but I don’t like sambal. But my best friend, who is Chinese, eats a LOT of sambal.”
And the next time I buy food from the same stall, I will remind her that I don’t take much sambal either.
What are your thoughts on reading this? We would love to hear from you. |
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A while back, my ex-colleague wrote about her thoughts on finding out that her little girl might be autistic. When she wrote that piece, she was still my colleague. She has since left her job so that she could focus more attention on her only child. And just yesterday, I read about how the Lien Foundation and KK Women's and Children's Hospital (Department of Child Development) had just launched an early detection and intervention programme targeting children with developmental needs. Preschoolers who have learning difficulties and who are attending PAP Community Foundation (PCF) kindergartens located in the Punggol-Pasir Ris GRC would now have access to an individual education plan, therapy lessons and in-class support sessions. And most importantly, these would be held during school hours.
Though I feel glad for my ex-colleague, and am heartened to read about this initiative by the Lien Foundation and KKH, I feel a tinge of wistfulness, even regret. I am perhaps one of the few (and foolish, some would say) parents who still feel that toddlers and preschoolers should be left to play and craft their own spontaneous learning experiences as much as possible. That they be spared typical childhood routines of tuition, enrichment class etc. until they reach primary school, and even then, only if it is deemed absolutely necessary (though the context of ‘necessary’ keeps shifting). And since each child learns at a different pace, a Harry-Potter reading six-year-old shouldn’t be compared to one still stumbling over Dr Seuss (though giggling all the way).
Hence, when my older boy struggled with ABCs while his kinder peers were already reading sentences, I didn’t think too much of it. He will catch up, we all thought. Come four years and many therapy sessions later, we know that he has dyslexia and a host of other learning issues. However, the ball only started rolling when he was identified in Primary 1, and then began a long and often-painful journey to work out what he needs to help him cope. Today, many ‘what ifs’ hound me each day when I see him poring over his homework. Should I have been more ‘kiasu’ ? What if we had detected his problems sooner? If we had addressed his needs earlier, would he be struggling so hard now in mainstream school?
I would not want other parents to walk in my shoes and to be saddled with these ‘what ifs’. Worse still, for them to not even know that their children might have a problem, or to not even care that they do. Since the pilot of the Lien Foundation-KKH programme was launched in July last year, more than 900 children in PCF schools have been screened and about 90 have been identified for therapy. For me, a time when every preschooler – whether in PCF or any other kindergarten – is screened for learning difficulties could not come too soon.
On a final note, I have an issue with the headline of the ST online article, ‘Early help for problem kids’. Why say ‘problem kids’ when you can say ‘kids with problems’ or better still, learning challenges? One alienates, the other invites empathy. And these kids – speaking for my own and the others out there – need all the help and support they can get.
What do you think of this article? Do you have a child with learning difficulties? Do share your thoughts with us.
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Mummy, look at my castle! |
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Just the other day, I was lamenting to a friend about my situation with my daughter Gabby. It is difficult to get her to focus on any one activity, except for playing computer games and watching the television. That she can do for hours without stopping for a toilet break. My friend’s answer to my problem is to try Sport Stacking. He was kind enough to lend me his stack of cups to try, which he happened to have at that moment. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to explain how the game worked.
When I took home the stack of 12 plastic cups, Gabby took one look at them and decided to build a castle. So far she’s built towers to protect her collection of bunnies, a shelter for a group of hair accessories having a picnic, and her castle. That is when I turned to Youtube and Google for answers. I learnt that this ‘sport’ originates from America and that supporters of this new sport claims that it can train a person to have a faster reaction time, eye-hand coordination and ambidexterity. Well, I showed Gabby a few videos and now she’s hooked! I am already impressed with how long she can sit and concentrate on this activity.
This weekend, we’ll be at United Square, participating in an event: United Square Cup Stacking Championship. It is going to be fun for Gabby to witness other children being just an enthusiastic about the sport. It has given her more motivation to practice. Now all that’s left is to teach her about sportsmanship.
- Grace
Note: The United Square Cup Stacking Championship is taking place from 28 May - 30 May 2010 at United Square B1 Atrium. For more details, see www.reddotexplorer.com/uscsc.html
Does your child enjoy Cup Stacking too? We would love to hear from you.
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