Tag Archives: School

Education

May Exams

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Inside, students are revising between exam papers, the common area full of laptops, notebooks, and nervous chatter.

Outside, trees that bloomed in early April only to have their blossoms freeze overnight fight for their lives, flowers and leaves black but still clinging.

Over lunch, we talked about the idea that as people live longer, childhood has extended. In many ways, this is a good thing: It is no longer expected for children to leave school and go off to work at 12 or 14, nor that everyone is partnered and married in their early 20s. In other ways, perhaps not such a good thing: An extension of childhood seems to have translated to less conformity to social norms, many of which have to do with respect for others. I believe social media is at fault here for creating alternate realities that fit each user. Why, I imagine a user thinking-without-thinking in the brief moments that the real world intrudes, should I have to fit myself into anything at all?

It’s May and our grade 12 exams have already begun, with grade 10 exams following next week. Some aspects of my students’ school experience still match mine from many years ago, but there are also ways my students learn that could not be more different. The fact that students, unprompted, refer to “learning how you learn” indicates that some shift has taken place.

Considering how much of our daily experiences in the world are curated for us – think about music recommendations, subscription-based news alerts, personal feeds, and explore pages – I think it’s worth noting that the school exam experience worldwide is very similar. All students who take exams from a certain exam board go through the same process. All schools are obligated to fulfill the same requirements. Everyone opens their results on the same day. As a student, I knew this to be the case, but it always thrilled me when, upon meeting new people, conversation turned to our experiences in classes and with teachers. I was surprised to learn how different our daily experiences were, only having encountered my own. And somehow, we all had ended up at the same place.

Through many years working with students, I have learned that it is not the work that I put into preparing them for exams, but rather the work that students put into preparing themselves that matters. I spend very little time these days, and sometimes none at all, going over course material; after all, students have spent two years on course content and have access to whatever they need to review. Rather, exam preparation in my classroom takes the form of prepared activities in which students are actively doing something and I wait to answer questions that arise. It might be easy to listen to a teacher talk, but the work is in the thinking, and my students understand that I am not going to do this part for them.

They understand, too, that exams are not a measure of their worth as a person, but rather a step that certain elements of society has decided is necessary in order to get them from point A to point B. One aspect of German society that I really like is that almost everyone does some sort of internship during secondary school, and that there are many vocational pathways of how to become a productive member of society; sitting exams that allow entrance to university is neither expected nor required. So when my students say, “But what if . . . ?” it’s easy to point to other options. In Germany, only about a third of people hold a university degree simply because it is not required for the vast majority of career possibilities.

Wherever young people end up and whatever they happen to do, I hope they are happy and fulfilled. I hope they chase the dreams that make them feel whole, and I hope they give themselves enough time to figure out what those dreams are. I hope they have opportunities to learn from success and failure, to stand tall after standing up again. And if they remember anything from their time in school, I hope it’s about the world around them, about appreciation of others, about what it means to be a good friend. They’ll figure out the rest as it comes.

Outside, the air deepens with the feeling that spring is, actually, here to stay this time.

Inside, students approach their tests with a mix of quiet confidence and anxiety, an understanding that they’ve spent two years learning and now need to prove it.

A former student came in for a chat the other day, and I smiled when she said she hardly thinks about high school anymore because it’s just not relevant. A year ago, she was one of the students waiting quietly with blue or black pens and sharpened pencils before taking her assigned seat in the exam rooms. What a difference a year makes.

On My Mind

With the Band

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Not too long ago, I wrote about how I’ve started playing guitar again after a rather long time away. My playing is pretty quiet and private, but I can strum chords, read music, and enjoy rhythm. I like the feel of the strings under my fingers and the growing strength in underused muscles of my left forearm.

To some extent, it was this reinitiated enjoyment that led me to say yes, after several days of thinking it over, when an email went out asking for colleagues who could play an instrument or sing to join in a band that will perform at our upcoming arts and music festival.

To another, and perhaps greater, extent, I thought about how much we expect from students in terms of taking risks, being uncomfortable, doing something new. The last significant time I had been in that position, I learned to climb and it has left a profound imprint on my life, one far beyond what I could have imagined. That was a number of years ago now, and maybe this was a good time to be there again. Maybe this was the opportunity to shrug away the shyness and uncertainty and to join a group of nice people, many of whom do not consider themselves musicians, and try a new thing.

And so I said yes.

That was how I found myself playing guitar in a band.

Until now, my playing with others had been limited to other guitars, a group of us sitting around on a couple of social occasions after a meal and some drinks. An unstoppable grin spread across my face when I first heard my tentative guitar playing alongside drums, saxophone, piano, bass, flute, and vocals. Unsurprisingly, my playing grew more confident and louder, and it didn’t take long for me to switch from acoustic guitar to electric, which I haven’t played since I was a teenager.

And there I was, playing electric guitar in a band.

Over the several weeks in which we rehearsed weekly, I found myself singing along while playing, attempting different strumming patterns just for fun, and watching my colleagues instead of my fingers. I slipped into the mindset I’d developed during years of theatre and dance: “If you make a mistake,” my directors and choreographers said, “make a loud mistake.” There’s really no hiding a mistake on an electric guitar, I thought. But, as one of the music directors reassured me, there were a lot of us playing.

And that was the point. The point was to play together as a group. The point was to blend with the group, to be part of the harmony holding the song together. Not confident or well-practiced enough to have a go at one of the solos, I was content to sit far in the background, keeping a rhythm. What I had to do was pretty elementary and with each week I felt more confident and better at ease.

And if I’m honest, I also felt proud. By playing guitar in front of others, talented music teachers and colleagues among them, I had overcome a hurdle that had always stood in my way. I didn’t need to be afraid of playing loudly anymore because there I was, doing exactly that. I wouldn’t say I plunged into the deep end, but I definitely splashed around to an extent that I never had before. In doing so, I had been uncertain and taken a risk, exactly as I expect my students to do. A little bit of empathy there.

When I first replied to that email, I thought about how excited I am when I talk to new people at the climbing hall or when people come to yoga class for the first time. I’m excited for them because I love the thing they’re trying out and I want them to love it, too. When the music teachers invited us to play, they were excited to share something they love. Their excitement was infectious, the energy in the room invigorating, and the laughter warm and welcoming.

One with the band.

Germany

A Sweet Start

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Over the weekend I had the opportunity to participate in the wonderful German tradition of the Schuleinführung, the beginning of school for children entering grade one. Also known as Schulanfang, this is the point at which a child becomes a schoolchild. This is a long-awaited moment and the celebration when it finally arrives is a testament to that. Endlich Schulkind! proclaimed decorations, cards, and an invitation we received.

Part of Alles Gute zum ersten Schultag, or wishing a child well on the first day of school, comes the tradition of presenting the child with a Zuckertüte, or cone filled with sweets, gifts, and perhaps school supplies. The cones are often made of highly decorated cardboard, but can also be rather fancier and made of fabric with the name of the child embroidered. Some are as tall as 85 centimetres, out of which quite a few goodies are excitedly unpacked. However, as my German teacher pointed out, a Zuckertüte is also a way to sweeten the serious responsibilities that are about to begin.

On the Saturday before school starts, the soon-to-be grade one children and their parents attend a ceremony at school in which names are called and the Zuckertüten, lovingly prepared by the families in advance, are presented. In the afternoon, the parties begin. Amidst Kaffee und Kuchen and later dinner, guests greet the child, who has been trained to give handshakes and say thank you, and present more gifts and supplies to help a child enter their new phase in life. On this particular swelteringly hot Saturday, plastic pools and children running around in various states of undress were a feature of both parties we attended, as were tables of adult relatives and friends enjoying a range of beverages.

After some time at the first party located in the village firehouse, we remained at the second until after midnight, leaving long after the fireworks that were allowed only because rules in villages are relatively relaxed. At that late hour, some children were still occupied with various painting pursuits and one couple managed a few dances until laughter got the better of them. As is custom in Germany, we said goodbye to each table on our way out, having done just the opposite upon arrival. Everyone is greeted, regardless of whether you know one another or not.

This element of community is something I really enjoy about social events here in Germany, and it was absolutely lovely to be a part of a Zuckertütenfest, the celebration of a child moving forward in the world. For the first of what will be many moments, children get a hint of what is to come, of how they would be expected to comport themselves. This is a big change, an exciting one, and that is indeed something to celebrate.

Zuckertüten have a long history in Germany, and there are regional differences along former East-West lines, as well. (Interesting reading in German here and English here.)

Weimar – July 2021