Around one year ago, in the May edition of our school bulletin, one of the ninth graders wrote, "In previous years, when I was in grade seven and eight, I felt how warm and kind my teachers were. Learning was usually something fun and enjoyable.
But now, in my ninth-grade year the teachers pretend to be hell-guards with their scary faces. They save energy from smiling and laughing, and spend more energy attempting to discipline us, yelling this and that. What is all this for?"
If I try to feel what she felt, I would also add "And do we really need all this? Is this not just a *sandcastle' built on someone else's assumptions of what we really need? Do they really care about us, or do they just see what they do as a job that they do not truly understand nor wish to?" And some more! Many more!
Recently, protests over the national exams being the "only" system to measure and decide whether students are eligible to graduate from primary or secondary school have quietened, as senior high students just sat these exams and junior highs school students are sitting them right now.
And a similar phenomenon will likely happen when junior high and primary students sit their own exams in following months. Perhaps all sides have already accepted the system, and given up with their protests.
Every day, especially during second semester, I see my students carrying big bundles of "problem collections" with them, filling any available spaces in their bags or cramping themselves carrying them by hand. As an English teacher, I don't see that my students learning how to use English better as a result. Instead, they are becoming victims of rote memorizations and are just becoming more cunning.
On my way up to the floor where the ninth-grade classrooms are in one of the school buildings, I also pass the floor where the sixth graders sit. Almost every morning I see their teachers disciplining them in a manner similar to what one would expect to see in the army. They are lined up and ordered to listen to "words of wisdom" mostly dealing with how to pass the national exams.
Students directly receive consequences (not to say "punishments") whenever a "wrongdoing" is found. It is assumed that through this kind of disciplinary action the students will at least be better prepared mentally for learning, and manage their time better.
Despite this madness, on the other end of the continuum my big boss, the head of the foundation, told teachers at one of our afternoon tea dialogs that he had thought about taking his sixth-grade daughter out of school and letting her learn as "God intended". He felt bad every time he saw her rushing to school without knowing whether she will learn what she really needs. He was perhaps unsure, for example, whether his daughters ability to answer math problems in the national exams would mean she was more likely to lead a happy life!
And surely he is not alone. He said what most educators are thinking. Yeah, my friends (the teachers as well as my bosses) silently do what they are presently doing simply to avoid the sword of the state and the penalties of law as well.
But whatever the price we have paid so far, this "madness" seems to go on because the government, through National Education Ministry, has possibly chosen to remain silent. Instead of taking a better look at the latent consequences of implementing national exams in the present manner, it is buzzing itself to better the incumbent government image through advertising "gratis schooling" (free schooling) for the first nine years of education for children entering public schools, a sudden policy shift amidst the national election campaigns.
Those people seated in government seem to have closed their eyes to "victims" of their policies, such as how students cheat, while teachers and administrators secure their positions through "dirty" means. Perhaps one day we will see prisons full of teachers accused of revealing a state secrets, the national exams questions.
Meanwhile, parents are spending extra energy, money and time to ensure that their children pass. And this is not cheap. Some neighbors who had sent their children to bimbingan belajar (a private education center providing guidance and counseling) said they spent millions. And this did not include their time and energy.
To maintain their image of being "qualified", sometimes even schools weary themselves trying to avoid the anxiety of being labeled failures, by all means possible. The cost, again, is borne by parents.
The question that remains unanswered is whether all these sacrifices get equivalent returns? Do they change the quality of education and make a difference? Do they guarantee better life expectations for pupils? Or is it just like a sandcastle that will wash away in no time? Are we really dealing with something meaningful for the future of the next generation or, conversely, are we playing a meaningless game for the sake of a few peoples' satisfaction?
As a teacher of more than seven years' experience, I still am not sure how to answer these questions. Every time I see people busy with this kind of business I calculate the costs and come to the conclusion that we could establish many new schools using this money. There are millions of children around the country who still have no access to good education facilities, and yet here we are being extravagant and spending money on a bunch of nonsense.
Another "common" but embarrassing factor is how "power" often plays an important part in enabling students to go well in exams. Among my colleagues some years ago, we had a student who nobody predicted would pass.
Fortunately for him, however, his father worked for the Education Ministry and through his "power" was able to get access to funding and equipment for the school. The student, unlike the others, seemed to feel free of any burden. He knew that his father had a relationship with the school and he was thus free from the state sword. And if we quantify this curse there are thousands of similar students backed by such corrupt conditions and privileges.
But still, I have no idea what this madness is for. Perhaps I should educate my own children at home like the late H. Agus Salim, one of the founding fathers of the country, to be sure that they grow up to the way they are meant to, and happily. And if I am fortunate enough, I can eventually enroll them in an international school and afterward they can go on to get a bachelor's or even a post graduate certificate.
The writer is currently a teacher at Lazuardi Global Islamic School, Cinere, Depok
