Min Ko Naing Wants a Generation That Asks Questions

Portrait of Min Ko Naing by Kenneth Wong, drawn in Autodesk SketchBook Pro for iPad

Eternal Light, a Burmese magazine, asks Min Ko Naing, "How important is the education system in the children's self-development and self-guidance?"

Min Ko Naing replies, "The education system plays a critical role to decide if, in the future, people will be able to lead themselves or not. Our present exams and scoring methods focus on the kids' ability to memorize, recite, and reproduce lessons to the letter, 'is' for 'is' and 'are' for 'are.' It doesn't reward points for self-acquired new knowledge ... In other countries, kids are not taught to repeat lessons word for word. [Teachers] don't slam a cane on the blackboard to prompt kids to repeat after them. They say, 'Go research this topic.' Then the kids must go to the library and rummage through the books ..."

The interview with Min Ko Naing, published in September issue of Eternal Light, sheds light on the dysfunctional dynamics of Burma's classrooms. In this corner of Asia, wide windows and sunny classrooms hide in plain sight a detriment to cerebral growth. Well-intentioned though they may be, many teachers perpetuate the anachronistic repeat-and-recite routine, with distinct echoes of the times when monastic learning was the only available path to literacy for common folks.

In an episode of DVB Debate (produced by Democratic Voice of Burma) aired at the end of August, the panelists tackled the question, "What's missing in Burmese education?" Dr. Myint Thein, a curriculum researcher, points out, "Even in textbooks that are supposedly updated, some math questions still postulate, 'If a viss of poultry is 100 kyats ...,' but that price is no longer valid."

The going rate for poultry in Rangoon today (ascertained with the kind help of my market-going Facebook friends) is 6,000 to 9,000 kyats per viss (one viss is roughly 3.6 LBs). Dr. Myint Thein describes the ridiculously outdated content as "fermented," prompting the debate moderator to remark, "I think you mean the content is spoiled."

But perhaps even more toxic than the spoiled content is the testing method. Dr. Myint Thein points out, "If this question comes up, this answer is expected. So the students learn to correlate specific questions and answers."

In the same debate, Dr. Thein Lwin from the countrywide education reform network similarly observes, "The exam system is a hindrance. The exams are all by heart. Students learn by heart; they answer by heart. Since we're testing how much they remember, we can't do anything to develop their minds."

From the audience, Eszter from Myanmar Institute of Technology BARS (Bachelor of Arts in Religious Studies) program chimes in, "I'm fond of reading outside literature [books not prescribed as textbooks], but I'm not allowed to discuss them at school."

In the Burmese Buddhist tradition, teachers are one of the five sacred jewels (the other four being Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, and parents). Invariably, in annual homage ceremonies, a field-ful of students would pay tribute to the teachers, just as they would a row of monks. The pupils go on bended knees with raised palms to receive the teachers' blessings.

This teacher-worship culture is a double-edged sword, in my view. On the one hand, it fosters a healthy respect for the educators; on the other hand, the teacher is the absolute authority in the classroom, not to be challenged or questioned. In my own schooldays, I endured my share of authoritarian teachers, who ruled the classroom with a quick-tempered bamboo cane. I was fortunate to have also benefited from the influence of teachers who encourage intellectual curiosity.

Against these odds, Burmese schools miraculously managed to cultivate a crop of student dissidents: among them, Bo Aung Kyaw, who led the boycott against the colonial government; Aung San, who later became the country's father of Independence; and Min Ko Naing, who spent nearly two decades going in and out of prison under military rule. Their lives and sacrifices were a testament to the indomitable spirit of curiosity that lives in all of us, a rebellious spark that must be nurtured, not extinguished.

In his interview with Eternal Light, Min Ko Naing says, "Some kids are so eager to learn that they ask questions. But we can't give them answers, so we use 'I'm busy' as an excuse. We won't admit to what we don't know. The long-term effect is, the kids conclude, 'What's the point of asking questions?' I want a generation that asks questions. The ability to raise questions leads to critical analysis. That gives them confidence in themselves. And that makes them able to lead."

(Excerpts from the interview are available in Burmese at Min Ko Naing's Facebook page.)