The curious case of creativity in a box

Exams are around the corner again and even as I try to help Andre with his revisions, I'm struck (once again) by how the way English is taught at the primary school level completely stifles creativity.

Ironically, this is contrary to what MOE claims they want to promote. For a few years now, the government has acknowledged that while Singaporean kids tend to be exam smart, they could do with a little more creative thinking. However, as we all know, wishing for something is different from actually making it happen.

The problem as I see it is that Singaporean authorities are stuck in the loop of needing everything to be definable and measurable (see my previous post on KPIs) and this clouds their vision. What happens is then they actually attempt to come up with a template for creativity which is so oxymoronic that it renders me speechless.

To cite an example, many teachers today are told to mark the language of a composition based on how many "good phrases" are used. In Andre's school, a commercial book of good phrases is part of the syllabus and the kids are told to learn these phrases, even for spelling. Let me give you some examples of the actual phrases from this book:

The satiny soft bedsheets enveloped me like a curtain of clouds the moment I lay on my bed.

I choked and coughed breathlessly on the carbon monoxide infused air as I stood at the zebra crossing.

Cars' and motorcycles' tyres tore away from the coarse surfaces of the asphalt roads at top speed.

The ball of tangy globe retired beyond the horizon as the sky faltered into a deep purplish shade.

Are you kidding me? Who in real life talks or writes like that? As a professional writer, I can tell you that if I ever pick up a book with such pretentious and stilted prose in every other sentence, I'll write it off (and the writer) instantly. Not to mention, the book had several sentences that were completely ungrammatical and wrong. I guess the writer herself got carried away by her own pomposity.

In term 1, Andre had to learn how to write a book review. Now, in my understanding, a book review talks about the story and how you feel about the book. That's the gist of it. But for Andre's assignment, he was given a very detailed and specific template - he had to give 3 reasons why he liked the book followed by accompanying details, name his favourite character and give 3 reasons why, name 3 favourite parts of the book and why, and so on. Each of these items gets a tick and marks are allocated accordingly. So if you gave only 2 reasons, then you only got 2 ticks. If you miss out one step, you're deducted marks.

Andre had an extremely hard time with this assignment. Not only did he find it very difficult to follow the template, he didn't even enjoy the story to begin with. However, since not liking the book was not an acceptable option, he still had to make up 3 reasons why he liked the book.

Here's an even better one: in open-ended comprehension, you frequently find a question (often the last one) which asks 'What do you think... ?' I find it totally ludicrous that an answer to a question which asks for your opinion can be marked WRONG. Honestly! As one of my friends astutely assessed, "They're not really asking 'What do you think...', they're really asking 'What do you think I think...'"

I know why they impose all this - it's to make marking simpler. This way, they don't have to depend on the arbitrary standards of each marker (which the authorities obviously distrust). This way, the marker just has to follow a matrix. It's certainly more orderly but don't mistake it for creativity. I don't know any other education system which designs its curriculum around the grading. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

During the parent-teacher conference earlier this year, I raised all these points to Andre's English teacher ("vented" is probably a more accurate word). To my utter surprise, she agreed with me. She said that once the school started imposing the memorising of good phrases for composition, she ended up with 44 scripts of almost identical introductions (mostly about the "fiery sun in the sapphire sky"). She knew that it was not ideal and had lodged feedback accordingly but her hands were tied. She tried to pacify me by saying that the kids didn't actually have to use the phrases from the book, as long as they could come up with their own. In translation, they still need to use bombastic language to score high marks, it just doesn't matter where it comes from.

I've said this before and I'll say it again - only in the Singapore system can you suck the creativity out of creative writing.

Once, as he was struggling to write his composition with the requisite good phrases that were so alien to him, Andre said sadly, "I think it's because I don't have imagination." I can't tell you how furious this made me feel because Andre is one of the most imaginative kids I know. If you've read the posts I've written about him, I'm sure you'll concur. This is a system that not only doesn't recognise or reward real creativity, it has kids wrongly associating rigid compliance with creativity. That's seriously warped.

I'm expressing my frustrations because I'm so torn. On one hand, I know this method kills creativity in the long-term, so I want to be able to give Andre a free hand in expression, to let him develop his own writing style naturally, to be able say what he truly feels, much like what Lesley-Anne has done. On the other hand, this will definitely jeapordise his exam scores, which has real repercussions.

It's the age-old dilemma of whether we are educating for the sake of knowledge or for the sake of exams. In this respect, it's disheartening to note that things have not changed much in the last 30 years.

"It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education." - Albert Einstein