Editor's note: The following is taken from the Facebook status of Alina Amir, a Teach for Malaysia teacher with her permission. In these times of plunging education standards, it is both heartwarming and at the same time heartwrenching to see such determined, bright individuals struggle with educating our children. One must wonder however, how much real change can a few teachers make? The education system requires structural reform from the inside especially. Good things to ponder while reading this excellent 'confession'.
So here’s a public confession: After 4 months into teaching, I came back from a class this morning, put my books on my desk, coolly walked to the ladies, and broke down; with tears, sobs, frantically fanned myself with my hands thinking that could help calm me down, the whole enchilada. Something I have not done for a very long time.
In the last four months, I could have cried when I had kids calling me a prostitute in mandarin, or that time when a kid told me I should not mess with him because his dad is part of the notorious along gangster crew (which I have never heard of and the phrase “ignorance is bliss” could not have rung truer), or that time when I was wolf whistled at for weeks wherever I went, or when a disruptive boy decided get up in the middle of my lesson, ran around the room and banged every table before he ran out of the class despite me calling after him and then having him come back and literally went on the floor, hugging my feet and begged for my forgiveness the same day, or when I was locked in the school building and then had to come out through the roof (long story) or when a big fat rat, literally, decided to chill right in front of my front door. Those were legit reasons to cry if I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. Not a single tear rolled down my cheeks. I stood up to my boys, I had sleepless nights thinking of strategies to get my kids to just sit down for a single lesson, told every kid who threatened me to bring it on, went to every boy who wolf whistled and threw inappropriate remarks at me, looked them straight in the eyes and said, “how dare you”. I have got nothing to lose and I am sure, as hell is not scared of anybody, no matter who your daddy is.
This morning however, was different. In fact, I wasn’t teaching at all this morning. I was in a form 4 class, of which I only teach PJK to the six of the girls every week. So what was I doing with the entire class? I was invigilating their mid year exam, Sejarah Kertas 3 to be exact; An open book test where students are required to write an essay on a topic given. Just as I finished handing out the exam papers to all 35 students, one boy put his hand up and asked, “ujian apa hari ni, cikgu?” and I went, “HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHAT PAPER YOU ARE SITTING FOR ON THE DAY OF THE EXAM AND EVEN AFTER I HAVE HANDED OUT THE EXAM PAPER” silently in my head. Out loud, I said, “ujian Sejarah, kertas 3. Ujian ni boleh tengok buku, so keluarkan lah buku”. Half of the classroom started to rummage through their bags and looked under their tables for books while the other half put their heads down and went to sleep. Ten minutes into the exam, they were all just staring at their books, opened to the first page. I went to a boy and asked if he knew what he was supposed to do. He shook his head and continued staring at his book. Another boy looked at me pleadingly, and asked, “cikgu, macam mana nak buat ni?” No one was writing anything. No one.
I went to one of the girls and asked her to read the question and then looked for the answer in the book. The first question she asked after I told her that was, “bab berapa tu?” and I could sense the whole class was waiting for me to tell her which chapter to open to. I knew then, that they have never read a single thing from their textbook nor have they learned anything in the past four months of school. Heck, I wouldn’t be going too far if I said they barely learned anything in the last 10 years of school. At that moment, I saw their future flashed through my eyes and I wanted to cry.
I wanted to cry because it was unfair for them to be sitting for an exam that they are clearly not ready for. I wanted to cry because someone allowed this to happen. I wanted to cry because as I was explaining to some of the students on how to do the exam and they were eagerly listening, while I was quietly panicking because I am no way near being a Sejarah Form 4 teacher. I wanted to cry because I felt incompetent, wishing I remembered what I learned back in From 4 so that I can teach them something at that moment. I wanted to cry because it is not their fault. But most of all, I wanted to cry because I have 200 students and I have classes back to back from 7.30 AM up to 10.00PM every day that it would be completely impossible to take on new students. All I could think of was how if only all the educated people in the country would spend their time teaching these kids, then maybe, maybe I’d be writing a different story.
I have never actually done this before; asking people to consider teaching. I believe that entering into the profession should come out of your own will. I have never recommended Teach for Malaysia to anyone. In fact, I’d be all-skeptical to anyone who are actually considering to join TFM. What are you in for? To have connections with top corporate partners? To meet CEOs of this and that? To be featured in newspapers, radio, magazines, online blogs? What are you in for? Is it the tagline? Is it really for the kids? I’ve been asked these questions before and I personally used to think that it was a fair concern. It needs to be out there that being a teacher, through TFM or not, is not even a tad bit glamorous. You don’t get paid on time, you’d be missing best friends’ weddings, family gatherings, birthdays etc., you have crazy deadlines and you’ll feel like crap because you don’t know how you’re doing. Nobody sends you a “good job” email on that awesome class you just had, or though you had. Are you sure you want to be a teacher? If you think it is a walk in the park, be rest assured that it’ll be the ghettoest, most messed up park you have ever walked in. I used to think that only the strong should be a teacher. Only those who know that they won’t quit should be a teacher. Today, I don’t care anymore. Today, I realized how desperate the country is and beggars, can’t be choosers. If you have gone through the education system and came out alive, teach. If you have no idea what to teach, trust me you’ll learn. You’d be surprised to meet kids who have never been told that cleanliness is a virtue, that rempit is not a legit career path, that you don’t have to give up at 16.
Listen to me, drop everything you’re doing and come back to school. Teach them to be human beings because they need to know that screaming at a lady is not the way to speak, that not knowing how to read at 13 is not cool, that cursing at your teachers is rude and to talk back to your mother in front of everybody at school would get you to every hell of every single religion in the world. Teach. If you think it’s too hard and teaching isn’t your thing, then quit. But you can’t quit teaching if you have not actually tried teaching. My point is, every one should teach. Decide later if it is something you want to do in the long run. Just teach. Join TFM, do it the normal route, stop a kid in the middle of the road and ask him/her to tell you the multiplication table, tell him/her a random fact about Egypt or aeroplanes, teach them the right intonation after seeing a question mark, teach.
If you think, all this doesn’t make sense and it’s just some really long facebook status/note by a crazy lady who just cried in a high school toilet, then darling, my dear, you have not taught in a classroom where half of them can barely read and write and the other half is just lost by this immense language barrier that no logical inspiring words can get through them. So teach. I am on my facebook knees.
This morning however, was different. In fact, I wasn’t teaching at all this morning. I was in a form 4 class, of which I only teach PJK to the six of the girls every week. So what was I doing with the entire class? I was invigilating their mid year exam, Sejarah Kertas 3 to be exact; An open book test where students are required to write an essay on a topic given. Just as I finished handing out the exam papers to all 35 students, one boy put his hand up and asked, “ujian apa hari ni, cikgu?” and I went, “HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHAT PAPER YOU ARE SITTING FOR ON THE DAY OF THE EXAM AND EVEN AFTER I HAVE HANDED OUT THE EXAM PAPER” silently in my head. Out loud, I said, “ujian Sejarah, kertas 3. Ujian ni boleh tengok buku, so keluarkan lah buku”. Half of the classroom started to rummage through their bags and looked under their tables for books while the other half put their heads down and went to sleep. Ten minutes into the exam, they were all just staring at their books, opened to the first page. I went to a boy and asked if he knew what he was supposed to do. He shook his head and continued staring at his book. Another boy looked at me pleadingly, and asked, “cikgu, macam mana nak buat ni?” No one was writing anything. No one.
I went to one of the girls and asked her to read the question and then looked for the answer in the book. The first question she asked after I told her that was, “bab berapa tu?” and I could sense the whole class was waiting for me to tell her which chapter to open to. I knew then, that they have never read a single thing from their textbook nor have they learned anything in the past four months of school. Heck, I wouldn’t be going too far if I said they barely learned anything in the last 10 years of school. At that moment, I saw their future flashed through my eyes and I wanted to cry.
I wanted to cry because it was unfair for them to be sitting for an exam that they are clearly not ready for. I wanted to cry because someone allowed this to happen. I wanted to cry because as I was explaining to some of the students on how to do the exam and they were eagerly listening, while I was quietly panicking because I am no way near being a Sejarah Form 4 teacher. I wanted to cry because I felt incompetent, wishing I remembered what I learned back in From 4 so that I can teach them something at that moment. I wanted to cry because it is not their fault. But most of all, I wanted to cry because I have 200 students and I have classes back to back from 7.30 AM up to 10.00PM every day that it would be completely impossible to take on new students. All I could think of was how if only all the educated people in the country would spend their time teaching these kids, then maybe, maybe I’d be writing a different story.
I have never actually done this before; asking people to consider teaching. I believe that entering into the profession should come out of your own will. I have never recommended Teach for Malaysia to anyone. In fact, I’d be all-skeptical to anyone who are actually considering to join TFM. What are you in for? To have connections with top corporate partners? To meet CEOs of this and that? To be featured in newspapers, radio, magazines, online blogs? What are you in for? Is it the tagline? Is it really for the kids? I’ve been asked these questions before and I personally used to think that it was a fair concern. It needs to be out there that being a teacher, through TFM or not, is not even a tad bit glamorous. You don’t get paid on time, you’d be missing best friends’ weddings, family gatherings, birthdays etc., you have crazy deadlines and you’ll feel like crap because you don’t know how you’re doing. Nobody sends you a “good job” email on that awesome class you just had, or though you had. Are you sure you want to be a teacher? If you think it is a walk in the park, be rest assured that it’ll be the ghettoest, most messed up park you have ever walked in. I used to think that only the strong should be a teacher. Only those who know that they won’t quit should be a teacher. Today, I don’t care anymore. Today, I realized how desperate the country is and beggars, can’t be choosers. If you have gone through the education system and came out alive, teach. If you have no idea what to teach, trust me you’ll learn. You’d be surprised to meet kids who have never been told that cleanliness is a virtue, that rempit is not a legit career path, that you don’t have to give up at 16.
Listen to me, drop everything you’re doing and come back to school. Teach them to be human beings because they need to know that screaming at a lady is not the way to speak, that not knowing how to read at 13 is not cool, that cursing at your teachers is rude and to talk back to your mother in front of everybody at school would get you to every hell of every single religion in the world. Teach. If you think it’s too hard and teaching isn’t your thing, then quit. But you can’t quit teaching if you have not actually tried teaching. My point is, every one should teach. Decide later if it is something you want to do in the long run. Just teach. Join TFM, do it the normal route, stop a kid in the middle of the road and ask him/her to tell you the multiplication table, tell him/her a random fact about Egypt or aeroplanes, teach them the right intonation after seeing a question mark, teach.
If you think, all this doesn’t make sense and it’s just some really long facebook status/note by a crazy lady who just cried in a high school toilet, then darling, my dear, you have not taught in a classroom where half of them can barely read and write and the other half is just lost by this immense language barrier that no logical inspiring words can get through them. So teach. I am on my facebook knees.
Alina Amir
Monday, June 10, 2013
Sunday, June 09, 2013
What is the International Baccalaureate?
I had the good fortune of being a scholarship recipinet of the IB Scholarship at the International School of Kuala Lumpur, which was the first IB school in Malaysia stretching way back to 1989. The IB at ISKL has beena wonderful experience and I will write more on the ISKL scholarship soon, in the meantime if you are interested you can read more here.
In the course of the next two weeks, I will be covering various aspects of the IB diploma in a series of articles including:
- History of the IB diploma
- The general structure of the IB diploma
- Some benefits of the IB diploma
- Some pitfalls of the IB diploma
- Compare it to A-Levels
- Recognition worldwide in terms of university acceptances
- Who I would recommend the IB to
Today I will be discussing the general structure of the IB diploma. For ease of reference, the article will be framed in a FAQ style.
How many subjects do I take for the IB?
In the IB diploma, one is required to take 6 subjects. These subjects all belong to different categories (Arts, Sciences, Humanities) to ensure the student is well-balanced and versed in multiple disciplines. However there are additional components to the IB such as Theory of Knowledge, the Extended Essay and CAS.
What are the areas covered in the IB?
As you can see from the chart above, a student usually takes:
- One main language, e.g. English
- A secondary language, e.g. French, Spanish, Mandarin
- A humanities subject (individuals & societies), e.g. Economics, History, Business & Management
- A math course, e.g. Mathematics, Further Mathematics, Math Studies
- An experimental/ natural sciences course e.g. Biology, Chemistry, Physics
- An arts course, .e.g Theatre, Visual Art, Dance
Is that it?
No. There are 3 additional components to the IB which are Theory of Knowledge, the Extended Essay and CAS.
What in the world are those things?
Theory of Knowledge, otherwise known as epistemology, is a sort of philosophy course. It essentially tries to instill in a student questions like: What is morality? Is there a God? How do we know what we know is real?
In other words, it's pretty mind blowing things that does wonders for your thinking.
The Extended Essay is a 3,000 to 4,000 word thesis paper that is written over the course of two years. Basically like a mini university paper. You can choose the area in which you choose to do the EE in. I chose History, and my EE was a research paper on whether the May 13 race riots were a coup d'etat or a spontaneous uprising.
The CAS hours stands for Creativity, Action and Service. You're required by the IB diploma to do at least 40 hours of each component. Briefly, it's extracurricular activities. More on these later.
Wait... So could you recap again what the IB diploma involves?
Alright here goes:
- You take 6 subjects, one from each field
- Out of the 6 subjects, at least 3 are Higher Levels.
- You also take Theory of Knowledge, write an Extended Essay, and fulfill CAS hours.
Hmm...Can I pick all Sciences or if I'm lousy at Science pick all Humanities?
No. Such an act would sort of defeat the purpose of the IB, which is to produce a person that is capable of multiple disciplines and is well rounded. If you're the type of person interested in a lot of things, the IB might be for you.
What if I don't want certain areas?
Well there's still some flexibility there. For example, I opted to forgo the Arts component in favour of an additional Humanities subject.
I also opted to take 4 Higher Levels rather than only 3.
So there is some flexibility to the course, not to worry, but you can't get away with not doing languages, math or at least one science.
What did subjects did you do?
Well I had some flexibility so I did the following.
- IB History HL
- IB Economics HL
- IB English Literature HL
- IB Mathematics HL
- IB Physics SL
- IB French Ab Initio (Ab Initio means from the beginning, so essentially a starter course)
Why so many subjects? Isn't it really taxing?
Well as I've said before, the IB diploma is really meant to produce multidisciplinary people. I won't lie and say it is an easier course. Definitely I think A-Levels people had it easy (and I know because I went through 6 months of A-levels before obtaining the scholarship). Even in the beginning stages, the workload is heavier.
That being said, the schedule is really no more demanding than your regular Malaysian secondary school's. It's just that compared to other pre-u programmes you probably won't have as much free periods as your friends.
And what are individual subjects like?
There is a lot of emphasis on coursework. While the A-Levels are almost entirely exam based, the IB is a lot more diverse in terms of its grading. I'll use the example of my English Literature subject.
IB English Literature score breakdown
Oral Presentation (15%)
This was a 20-30 minute long presentation about an aspect of a literary work. I explored prejudice and judgmental-ism in Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God through means of presenting black and white photographs and a poem set to music.
Oral Commentary (15%)
This was a 20 minute commentary on a previously studied piece of work with a teacher, followed by a 10 minute Q&A session. I did a commentary on Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and during the 10 minute session answered question of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five. The oral components are internally graded but are recorded and sent to the IB authorities for moderation.
World Literature Paper (20%)
This is a 1,500 word paper examining a particular aspect of a piece of literature. I examined the significance of the opening scene of Friedrich Durrenmatt's play, The Visit. The paper is marked externally.
Final examination (50%)
This part is your standard final exam with timed written responses to a prompt. Pretty standard stuff.
As you can see, there is a lot more emphasis on various aspects such as oral presentations, papers etc. One might say it mirrors the university grading system much more closely than purely exam-based pre-university programmes.
Anything else you want to add?
Nothing much, except stay tuned for more in depth, first hand info on the IB programme. Feel free to email me at ongkarjin@gmail.com if you want to talk in person/ have any other concerns. Thanks for reading!
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