06.10.07
Continued Education and the Rural/Urban Divide
There were several interesting comments relating to continued education on my last post. I began responding to them in comment form, but when the comment began taking up an entire page, I decided this topic was worthy of a new post.
Ty from Ireland sums things up by saying:
It is incorrect to say that college entrance exam is the only way to receive higher education in China. There is a system called GaoZiKao, higher education through self learning. You could, if you work hard enough and possess the capability, get a degree after passing a number of exams on different subjects. The system has been there for years. Having said that, it is very hard for someone to finish a degree in that way because you have to work in the meantime to make a living.
I have known several Chinese people who have completed such programs, especially the zi kao. What I have noticed (and again I am making a generalization on 1.3 billion people based on my own observations) is that typically the people who enroll in these kinds of programs are urban residents. Here in Fuzhou, almost all kids get into high school, and generally speaking, they are expected to get into college as well. Not being accepted into college will often define a city resident as an underachiever. This is quite different in rural areas, where being accepted to college is comparatively less common and still quite an accomplishment. When I was teaching in Fuqing, most of my students were from rural areas, and were the first person in their family ever to receive education past high school.
Most of my coworkers in the barbershop come from the same backgrounds as my students in Fuqing, except the did not study hard enough to get into college. In fact, with the exception of only two or three little brothers, most of them did not even get accepted into high school either, thus ending their formal educations at the age of 16.
If a student from Fuzhou does not get into college, it can be a little bit of an embarrassment for the family, not to mention a limit on future opportunities. Because of this, parents will often insist that their child take time off to complete programs such as zi kao or night classes, to further their education.
With rural residents it is not so easy. For starters, there is the economic factor. Most rural families are not nearly as wealthy as those from cities, and need their children to immediately begin working as soon as they have reached the terminal point in their education. If their children test well enough to get into college, they will often borrow money from family members in order to pay for their child’s tuition. In a family which is predominantly uneducated, having a child who can enter college, is like an investment, which if it pays off, will benefit the entire family. However, if the child does not get accepted into college (or an equivalent vocational program i.e. 大专) they usually set off for work, like the little brothers and sisters in the barber shop. Once they begin working, continued education often becomes impractical.
In the case of the barber shop, the little brothers and sisters each put in over 70 hour work weeks. As Ty mentions, it would be virtually impossible for them to enroll in any kind of continuing education program, and expect to have enough time to study enough to do reasonably well. This not even mentioning obtaining the money to pay for the training.
I have pondered how much studying could be accomplished during the excessive down time we have in the barber shop. While you might not be able to attain any certifications, there still is certainly an enormous amount of room for personal improvement. After only a few weeks of informal exchanges, Adamum is now able to correctly pronounce a decent collection of English greetings and swears, and I can now do the same in the Fuzhou dialect. It wouldn’t be too far off to posit that if I were to work in the shop for a full year, Adamum would be speaking fluent English, and I would be doing most of my communication in Fuzhou hua. I brought up this topic of studying to Chen Lin (a little brother) once and he responded with a sarcastic smile “Study? The reason we all work here is because we hate studying and we aren’t good at it. If I was good at studying I would have finished high school.” So there you go.
ym
said,
June 10, 2007 at 12:55 pm
It must be pointing out that besides economic poverty, one of the reasons why so many rural teenages dropped out of school is they were not good at studing(Because of the backward educational facilities and equipment and conditions of teachers ).Many excellent students from rural areas could also go to college even if the poor family circumstances. But contrast to the rural children, the urban ones are always fortunate!
Chris
said,
June 10, 2007 at 4:49 pm
I know of at least one of my graduate students who got his undergrad or equivalent on his own. He’s actually one of my better students, at least in terms of speaking, and he’s far more willing to put himself out there than the rest of the class who have come up through a more traditional college route.
Handan
said,
June 12, 2007 at 10:56 am
Chris:
You remind me of one of my best friends, who did her 大专 through zi kao and is now near the end of a one year course to upgrade her diploma into undergrad. Her teacher calls her “catalyst for lively discussions in class”.
Ben:
Chen Lin’s response points to the regretful association between studying and pain and boredom, a result of the rote education found across many asian countries. Students put through years of exam-driven cramming of prescribed “knowledge” are typically deprived of the genuine curiosity of the world and the fun of learning about it. Self-improvement, as an idea, would’ve long faded out of their mind as learning is exclusively linked to meeting imposed standards and passing endless exams.
On top of this, both parents and kids, parents more so, look for immediate and tangible economic benefits out of the investment in education. What education contributes to one’s overall well-being( which is itself unproportionately linked to wealth) is overlooked, if not totally neglected. The failure of the only college graduate in a village to secure a job of high salary and/or high social esteem upon graduation could easily drown the whole village in disillusion about education.
Whether a well-educated earner of good salary is happy or not is simply not an issue in the education system, family upbringing emphatically included.
Now you might accuse me of talking about such luxuries as happiness while subsistance remains a challenge. My friend, let’s try look at it this way. I say, the lack of the happiness goal in education makes the whole system a place that students want to run away from. Even those excell and stay on do so only for the economic benifits at the end of the road. What’s worse, those who never get to taste alternative learning experiences draw an equation mark between Asian schooling and learning, and shun, if not hate the very idea of learning altogether. This deprives a lot of people of the opportunity to better realize their diverse potential through continued learning and live a better, happier life.
If the hatred of learning, by the doing of wrong education goals and modes, is one of the biggest barriers in their way to a better life, what shall we blame?
This question has been on my mind for years.