On Feb. 7, the New York Times ran a column by Nicholas Kristof (“What if the valedictorians were America’s cool kids?”) that blindly and lavishly praised education in Taiwan and in Asia more broadly.
We are used to this kind of Orientalist admiration for what is, at the end of the day, paradoxically very Anglo-centered. They could have praised Europeans for valuing education, too, but one rarely sees an American praising Europe, right?
It immediately made me think of something I have observed. If Taiwanese education looks so wonderful through the eyes of the archetypal expat, gazing from an ivory tower, how is it that every Taiwanese parent I meet utterly loathes it?
I speak regularly with Taiwanese who are parents or approaching the age of having children and have strong opinions about how the next generation should be raised. All of them are vocally critical of what they perceive as a monstrously antiquated, inefficient, counterproductive and borderline abusive education system, without exception. They blame it for destroying their children’s self-confidence, preventing them from becoming creative or innovative, and failing to prepare them for a changing world. They see it as blocking their growth and shaping them into cannon fodder for large corporations.
Most wish their children could be educated abroad, not for language acquisition or prestige, but because they believe that elsewhere, children are not raised as if they were preparing for an imperial civil service examination from ancient China. They are not entirely right, but there is truth in that perception.
Their opposition to Taiwan’s education system is not always visible at first, because they comply with it, but this is largely because they believe they have no choice. Once they finish venting their frustrations, they almost always add that they feel powerless to change the system and that there is no viable alternative, unless their children are to have no future.
The final note of these conversations is always the same. They end with: “I am the only one who thinks this” — even when they are the third person in a month to share exactly the same criticism with me.
What does this mean?
I have often reported on activism in Taiwan and on many grassroots movements that seek to take full advantage of the freedoms afforded by the country’s democracy. This, in itself, challenges another false cliche: That of Taiwanese being shy and meek, when they are active and upfront when needed. I have seen Taiwanese organize around causes large and small, and I have seen them succeed on many occasions.
For that reason, I believe the only thing standing between Taiwan’s education system and meaningful reform is the lack of awareness among frustrated parents that they are not alone. It is entirely possible that, at some point, the desire for reform would become widely recognized. The moment disgruntled parents realize they are far from isolated and that there are enough of them to shake the system, education in Taiwan would have to change.
That might disappoint those who prefer Taiwan to conform to their fantasies of a neat, obedient Confucian culture populated by clean-cut, robotic students, but it would be nothing short of a revolution for this country.
Julien Oeuillet is an independent reporter in Kaohsiung and hosts the weekly program Taiwan vs the World on Radio Taiwan International.
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