The National Federation of Teachers’ Unions held a news conference on March 7 to criticize National Taipei University of Technology (Taipei Tech) for creating a commodity from newly introduced learning portfolios, which have begun to be used in high schools this year and are to aid students with their university applications.
Taipei Tech was reportedly offering a series of five-day camps, each priced at NT$8,000 — NT$6,000 tuition plus NT$2,000 for miscellaneous charges — to teach students how to prepare their documents, design their portfolios and perform in a university application interview.
The target groups included students from all levels of high school.
The courses drew criticism for the way the portfolio is creating an “arms race” between students.
Taipei Tech apologized for what it called “misconduct.”
The Ministry of Education on March 10 said that universities offering such portfolio-building camps might be committing ethical contraventions and should not offer such programs.
Taipei Tech might have made a clumsy, tactless mistake, but college camps by any other name still smell as sweet to parents and students looking to enrich their portfolios. It is apparent that students did not register for these camps for their interest in the content, but for the certificates that could be put into the portfolio.
I once helped a high-school student with college camp registration during winter break. Half an hour before registration opened, I opened the Web page to register and pre-entered the student’s information to be ready the minute registration opened.
To my dismay and incredulity, the camp, with a limit of 75 students, was full within a minute, before I had a chance to submit the application. I had no choice but to sign up for the waiting list.
Never having suffered from idol worship, I nevertheless came to realize how frustrated young people must feel when concert tickets sell out in a blink.
As a parent of a high-school student, I was compelled to join in the fight in the hopes that my child gets to have more experiences, and thereby be able to create a more appealing and captivating portfolio.
I remain far from the only one, for parents are now trying to get their hands on anything that could potentially enrich their children’s portfolios. The most sought-after college camps are often sold out within minutes after registration opens.
While people might think that these camps are a “good bargain” — quality content at a cheap price — the fee for a four or five-day camp usually ranges from about NT$4,000 to a staggering NT$8,000.
I cannot help but conclude that Taiwan’s GDP growth owes much to the education system and the portfolio.
Under the “108 curriculum,” the portfolio accounts for 50 percent of college admission criteria — the same percentage as the General Scholastic Ability Test — and has sent parents and students into a panic.
Education experts have tried to reassure the public that the portfolio is meant for students to demonstrate learning activities they have participated in, achievements in certain fields and their enthusiasm for specific interests.
The key to making a good portfolio is to present one’s true self to others, so there is no need for an “arms race.” Nevertheless, no one would be naive enough to believe these words.
In the wake of the educational reform, the commodification of college camps is a reflection of supply and demand in the education market. Parents are paying large sums in exchange for their children to have portfolios that appear more diverse and enterprising, whereas children from less affluent families can only lament and pray for the best with their applications.
Taipei Tech was denounced for simply being blunt about their goal. The Ministry of Education would be quite mistaken if it thinks the issue can be solved by reprimanding Taipei Tech. The university is just the tip of the iceberg.
Huang Yun-xuan is a teacher at an elementary school.
Translated by Rita Wang
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