Executive Summary and 9 Reflections!

Executive Summary

Through these reflections, I hope to extend my understanding of education. To do this, I hope to continually integrate new knowledge with old, and synthesise the information from the lectures and readings with my prior knowledge and personal experiences. Thus, I have been slowly groping towards a ‘theory’ of education.

But my reflections are only the babblings of a child, and I am still very far from constructing a comprehensive and coherent conception of education. Plato made the first great attempt in this direction. It is noteworthy that he embedded his main discussion of education in The Republic. Given the nature of that sublime dialogue, his philosophy of education is an integral part of a larger intellectual system that includes metaphysics, political philosophy, religious philosophy, ethics and aesthetics. Great thinkers are aware that we cannot fully know the purpose and nature of education without knowing the ends and nature of humans and their societies, without understanding the right, the good and the beautiful, and without perceiving the nature of mind and knowledge. What I am groping towards is a comprehensive and coherent set of ideas about education, and my current state of knowledge is woefully inadequate for that task. Perhaps, to know anything truly, one must first know everything truly.

Indeed, I am reaching tentatively for a conception of education centered on the unity of knowledge. I believe that many modern curriculums are impoverished by their lack of emphasis on questions that really matter, and which, by their very nature, tend to unify principles and facts from many disciplines. Incidentally, the essential questions of philosophy are like that. Philosophy is perceived by many as being an abstract subject with far less relevance to ‘real life’ than say, physics or economics. Yet we are faced daily with the question of doing ‘the right thing’. So what exactly is right and what exactly is wrong? And why? And day after day, we seek to discriminate between the true and the untrue. So what determines truth? And what is truth? And how do we know what we know? What, in the first place, is the nature of mind and consciousness? We are attracted to beauty all around us, and some of us seek to create beauty. But what is beauty? What makes something beautiful?

Philosophy studies the great questions that we ask, consciously or unconsciously, to unify all that we know to make sense of life and guide our living. Answering such questions inherently draws on and enriches a large range of intellectual disciplines, and invites us to integrate our personal experiences with our mental models as well.

Therefore, while I am still uncertain about most of the details, for now, it appears that my fundamental vision of education is one that concerns the cultivation of reason, the unification of knowledge, the eclectic love of truth (‘a philosophical heart and mind’), and the complementary development of the ethical and aesthetic powers. And these constitute a preparatory movement that builds the foundation for spiritual fire.

A chief justification for my vision (though far from being the only) is that we live in an age where thoughtlessness is lethal. In Accident: A Day’s News, a novel about the Chernobyl catastrophe, an East German character notes the sleepwalking qualities of most of her fellow citizens, how ‘their desire for a comfortable life, their tendency to believe the speakers on raised platforms and the men in white coats, the addiction to harmony and the fear of contradiction of the many seemed to correspond to the arrogance and hunger for power, the dedication to profit, unscrupulous inquisitiveness, and self-infatuation of the few’.

Can the citizens of the 21st century afford to be unreflecting sleepwakers who blindly accept the status quo? In April 2000, Bill Joy, one of the founders of Sun Microsystems, published an article called ‘Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us’. The article argued convincingly that advancing nanotechnology, artificial intelligence and robotics technologies will increasingly make possible the spectre of ‘knowledge-enabled mass destruction’ (KMD). KMD is mass murder made cheap and democratized, with knowledge being the main and sufficient ingredient. Building nuclear weaponry requires massive and expensive investments impossible for many nations. 21st century technologies may eventually allow a neurotic teen to wipe out a city with a homemade virus. And KMD weapons easily self-replicate. We don’t expect nuclear missiles to build themselves and fire off; but pathogens and killer nanobots readily multiply and fill the earth.

This is a problem for the world, of course, not merely for Singapore. As humanity’s power increases, our thought and ethics and spirituality must grow correspondingly. With the eventual advent of KMD, sleepwalking cannot be an option. We need a thinking citizenry at the very least; and most optimally, a civilisation of the Spirit. To preserve our civilisation, we must be able to challenge madness and thanatos.

In the 21st century, humanity may well have to choose between ‘suicide or adoration’. Education may determine which.

Thinking Pedagogy

Having set down some preliminary ideas for a coherent model of education, I also reflected on some practical considerations for its incarnation. At the ‘micro’ level, I considered some principles that should underline the teaching of thinking.

To be a good teacher of thinking, we must first have the correct self-image: We need to shift our self-conception from being solely a fertile dispenser of information (the clichéd ‘sage on the stage’), to being a midwife of thought, like the archetypal teacher of thought, Socrates. Our objectives, instructional activities and assessment tasks should include at least some provision for easing the birth of thought and understanding, and for building our students’ capacity to give birth. We also need to have the constant habit of “thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the young man [person] brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth” (Plato’s Theaetetus), and provide feedback and adjust our instruction accordingly.

From this vision flows the rest.

Apply an Eclectic Conception of Thinking to Guide Instruction and Assessment:

Midwives of thinking need to know a reasonably comprehensive list of thinking skills—they need to know the babies they want. Ideally, they should know at least one pedagogically useful model of thinking.

Writing is thinking:

One of the best and most natural ways to teach thinking is to teach writing. Firstly, writing incarnates thought, whether we are considering economics essays, philosophical discourses, literary criticism, argumentative essays or fictional writings. Quality writing requires the pre-existence of quality thought. Secondly, for any type of writing, the writer must always consider his purpose, and then consider the best way to achieve his purpose given his audience and context. Strategic thinking is therefore crucial.

Quality questions are needed for quality thought:

This principle is central to Socrates’s pedagogy. To be a midwife of thought, one needs to ask good questions that promote higher order thinking. For this, we can depend on some taxonomy like Revised Bloom’s or Marzano’s, or use Paul’s elements of thought and so on. In addition, one can use these taxonomies to train students to generate higher order questions. Indeed, this is arguably even more important than asking higher order questions (though the teacher would of course have to model the practice).

Concepts unify; concepts engage:

The final principle is to that even in a largely skills-based subject like English, we need to base our teaching on concepts and generalisations. By their very nature, concepts and generalisations unify discrete facts, and can be applied to understand different phenomena and to solve problems in many contexts. As such, they tend to organize our knowledge, and produce ‘aha’ moments where we feel that our understanding of ourselves and the world has grown. By contrast, teaching that is largely mainly on discrete facts and skills tend to be much less engaging and cognitively stimulating.


Staff Development Considerations

For teachers to develop the skills necessary to teach thinking, staff development is crucial. Thus, in reflection 9, I considered the practical strategic issues of how to develop teachers who will be able to develop the intellects of their pupils. I based my strategic reflection on Peter Drucker’s five organisational self-assessment questions:

1) What is our mission?
2) Who is our customer?
3) What does our customer value?
4) What are our results?
5) What is our plan?

At the ‘macro’ level, I considered the issues of education with reference to two ‘alien’ systems. The first is the education system of Gondor at the end of the war of the Ring (from ‘Lord of the Ring’). The second is the education system of New Zealand.

Gondor: I considered the relative merits of a state-run centralized system versus a decentralized ‘lassiez-faire’ system. If King Aragorn wishes primarily to preserve the glories of the past, a conservative state-run education might seem the way to go. After all, is not one of the main purposes of education to ensure the ‘social continuity of life’ (Dewey’s Democracy and Education)?

Yet Gondor is in a precarious economic and military situation because of its pyrrhic victory. Is mere conservation sufficient? Gondor’s technological prowess is nothing remarkable and civilizations with such primitive technology is ever in danger of being destroyed by lusty barbarians. Clearly, with a small economic and population base, and with its resources further diminished by war, if Gondor merely conserves the old ways, it is probably a recipe for eventual national extinction.

Nor is the extreme alternative of ‘leaving it to the market’ going to lead to much change. The culture of Gondor appears to be primarily conservative, and addicted to customs and ancient literature. As Dewey wrote, ‘in static societies, societies which make the maintenance of established custom their measure of value’ education is simply about the child ‘catching up with the aptitudes and resources of the adult group.’ The all-pervasive conservative culture implies conservative private education.

This is in contrast to more progressive societies, like modern industrial civilization, where education is usually viewed as a ‘constructive agency of improving society’, where education, ‘instead of reproducing certain habits, better habits shall be formed, and thus the future adult society be an improvement on their own’ (Democracy and Education).

It seems then, that Aragorn should use progressive state education as a means to strengthen Gondor. But by doing so, he may very well destroy much of its culture. Assuming he does accept this price, something along the lines of modern mass education is out of the question (since it places a premium on scientific knowledge, inquiry and training—all of which clearly do not exist in Gondor). The best that could be done (and even that is assuming a relatively high degree of pre-existing mental culture) would be setting up institutions like Plato’s Academy, Aristotle’s Lyceum or the Museum of Alexandria—places where free thought and reason can flourish, and where human beings can improve their intellectual and ethical development through the cut and thrust of dialogues and inquiry. After all, one of the most crucial ingredients of a progressive civilisation is the propensity to question everything and anything. This tendency is best cultivated by institutions that encourage the use of reason to discover greater truths and critically examine existing social, ethical, technological, and religious norms in the hope of improving them.

New Zealand: I considered the relative merits and demerits of the decentralized New Zealand system versus the centralized Singapore system. The tentative conclusion is that the NZ system is one that could potentially work far better than ours: being more adaptable and respecting of student dignity. However, it is our system, with its mechanisms of supervision and centralized appraisal, that is more suitable for imperfect human beings, and one that can produce high average outcomes. Yet if our teachers and leaders become increasingly ready to be ‘left alone’ through growth and development, something like the NZ system is the way to go.

Through all these reflections, I have found that I am probably quite open to learning, whether through intellectual exploration and construction, or through experience and reflection. I am open to receiving truth in whatever way she chooses to come, and often, but not always, for the most pragmatic of reasons.
And thus, with this attitude, I continue patiently on my quest: to find a comprehensive vision of education and the means for its incarnation.







Reflection 1
During this MLS, I hope to extend my understanding of education. To do this, I hope to continually integrate new knowledge with old, synthesising the information from the lectures and readings with my pedagogical knowledge and personal experiences. I also hope to connect my learning with my other interests: literature, philosophy, religion and economics. These reflections are in fact quite helpful for intellectual digestion.
For these two weeks, I have been reading up on the philosophy of education: Dewey, J.S Mill, Kant and Plato. For the next few reflections, I hope to integrate my readings with my beliefs.
I believe that education should help pupils to learn the authentic skills, habits of minds and principles of different academic disciplines. It is about pupils gradually moving up the novice-expert continuum to increasingly function like a practitioner who can grapple with real problems and produce new knowledge. It is about allowing pupils to explain, interpret and apply the enduring understandings of different fields. And while there are necessarily principles, habits and skills that are unique to particular disciplines, there are also many that are important to all disciplines and to life. Thus educators should not neglect macroconcepts that transcend disciplines, and should constantly stimulate their pupils to integrate their new knowledge with their interests, experiences and knowledge of other topics and disciplines. Furthermore, educators should train their pupils’ critical faculty, build the sound habits of mind useful for all academic subjects, promote ethical thinking, teach the research and self-regulation skills needed for self-directed learning—and by doing all these, prepare their pupils for the national examinations (!), and help them to become productive members of society. At the same time, teachers should respect and capitalise on their pupils’ interests and talents, allowing for choice and much flexibility, seeking to produce a curious lifelong learner—while not neglecting the core skills and knowledge that equip them for a life of reason and productivity. In short, I am somewhat eclectic (or confused) in my curriculum ideology, though being mostly an academic rationalist in orientation.
As I read more, I think there is another way to look at education, a complementary perspective that personally yields greater clarity about the aims and means of education. One of the master aims of education should be the cultivation of a philosophical cast of mind and a philosophical heart. First, the heart. Plato writes in his dialogues that wonder is the beginning of philosophy, that the true philosopher is one who has a love of learning, a love of wisdom and truth. The true philosopher is the prisoner from the cave of shadows, who braves the pain and sorrow of first light, to move into the upper world of the Sun, which is at once the true, the good and the beautiful—the ideals of knowledge, ethics and art.
Beyond the simple love of truth, a philosophical heart has a passion for ideas because as John Locke wrote in The Conduct of the Understanding, ‘the ideas and images in men’s minds are the invisible powers that constantly governs them, and to these they all, universally, pay a ready submission’. It is quite easy to underestimate the power of ideas, yet they can ruin or uplift entire civilisations. Communism, dreamt up by a lonely and poverty-stricken prophet in the British Library, transformed the lives of millions in the twentieth century for both good and ill—though perhaps mostly for the latter. On the other hand, Gandhi’s idea of satyagraha has inspired movements of freedom and peace in America, South Africa and Tibet. In a world where our ideas have allowed us to command the atomic fire and decrypt the ciphers of life, the greatness of our thought will largely determine whether we build a civilisation worthy of unprecedented peace and wisdom, or whether we would plunge into a despoiled and savage nightmare of our own creation. Philosophers care for ideas, because few other things can elevate or degrade humanity to the same degree.

And what about a philosophical mind? Fundamentally, it is a mind that is able to think, and think well. In essence, as Dewey wrote in How We Think, it is a mind able to engage in ‘active, persistent, and careful consideration of any belief or supposed form of knowledge in the light of the grounds that support it and the further conclusions to which it tends’. Knowing the value and power of ideas, and having a simple passion for the right and true, a philosophical mind is careful to seek for reasons and evidence for what it believes. It is clear about the grounds of its beliefs, whether they are experience, authority or the a priori truths of reason. It knows when it does not know, and it knows that a learned ignorance is a greater wisdom than an ignorant conceit. It knows and is clear about the probability of its claims. It knows when it believes only because it wants to believe.

To do this well, a philosophical mind is one that can accurately, patiently and powerfully relate ideas to ideas, fact to fact. A philosophical mind is trained and practiced in the laws of inference. It attempts to consider not only the case for its opinions but also the case against. It is quite aware that very often “conflicting doctrines, instead of being one true and other false, share the truth between them: and the nonconforming opinion is needed to supply the remainder of the truth, of which the received doctrine embodies only a part” (J.S. Mill, On Liberty). Finally, a philosophical mind is willing to live with uncertainty, instead of a premature and unfounded certainty. Given the sheer difficulty of justification in so many cases, it may seem that such an attitude might inevitably produce a global skeptic. Yet it is arguable that a global skeptic is much more valuable than a bigoted fool, and to me, the true philosopher must also know the limits of reason, and acknowledge the greater servants of truth beyond. I believe that sentiments in matters of morals or of the Spirit can be valid grounds of beliefs, especially when they are backed and enforced by deeper vision and experience. Often our feelings are but the robes of inner truths obscured. There may be truths too wide for reason, and revelation’s fire has a place in our ambiguous world.

It is important to clarify that a well-developed mind is not merely a ‘gifted’ mind, conventionally understood—that is, a quick mind gifted with powerful memory and the ability to speedily recognise patterns and make well-ranging connections. A gifted mind is potentially a great mind, but only potentially. The corruption of the best often leads to the worst. After all, a quick mind could have awfully bad mental habits. Indeed, a quick mind, by making intellectual work easy, could encourage laziness and pride, often leading to a narrow mind and the inability to consider other perspectives. All these are deadly enemies of rational thought. Speed and a vast stock of ideas would then only help in the quick generation of errors, arrogance and perversity—little else. An untrained and gifted mind makes a great sophist, a servant of illusion, or at best, a quick practical fiddler of everyday knowledge—but it cannot be a consistent servant of truth.

In my next reflection, I would probably focus on Socrates, the ideal philosopher and the educator of ideal philosophers. I think meditating on him would yield many insights on how to develop a philosophical heart and mind.


Overall, a well written reflection journal; well done –strong critical thinking about the philosophy of education and the impact upon the individual, and perhaps, to another extent society as a whole; your insights will certainly lend deeper insights into developments in education/pedagogy








Reflection 2

Why is it important to cultivate thinking skills? For a start, if we examine MOE’s desired outcomes of education, it is quite clear that they cannot really be achieved if our pupils do not think well.

A product of our system is meant to be

A confident person who has a strong sense of right and wrong, is adaptable and resilient, knows himself, is discerning in judgment, thinks independently and critically, and communicates effectively;
A self-directed learner who takes responsibility for his own learning, who questions, reflects and perseveres in the pursuit of learning;
an active contributor who is able to work effectively in teams, exercises initiative, takes calculated risks, is innovative and strives for excellence; and,
a concerned citizen who is rooted to Singapore, has a strong
civic consciousness, is informed, and takes an active role in
bettering the lives of others around him.

A ‘confident person’ with a sound critical faculty cannot be lacking in thinking skills. And an effective communicator is typically able to generate and incarnate clear, logical and coherently arranged thought.
A ‘self-directed learner’ is a reflecting and self-regulated learner, one who plans, monitors, reflects and self-modify. In other words, the self-directed learner exercises decision making skills, metacognitive skills, evaluative skills and strategic planning skills—all arguably thinking skills. The self-directed learner should also possess good inquiry skills, with the ability to frame hypotheses and research questions, evaluate sources, infer conclusions from data, design investigations and so on.
An ‘active contributor’ and citizen needs to be a creative thinker. He needs to be ‘innovative’. On the highest level, the greatest benefactors of humanity are typically creative geniuses who have birthed new paradigms, art forms, philosophies and spiritualities. On less revolutionary levels, we always need new and better mousetraps by creative tinkerers.
And we would expect ‘concerned citizens’ to grapple with inherently controversial topics like morals, religion, politics and social relations. Indeed, J.S. Mill has pointed out in On Liberty that “three-fourths of the arguments for every disputed opinion [in these fields] consist in dispelling the appearances which favor some opinion different from it”. And thus,
“He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side; if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion.” (On Liberty)
Hence, students need to acquire the critical capacity to throw “themselves into the mental position of those who think differently from them, and consider what such persons may have to say” before they are capable of forming truly justified opinions on the ambiguous issues of life.
Furthermore, for students to be ‘concerned’ at all, they would need a well-developed moral conscience. If this conscience is not to be blindly shaped by tradition, social custom or indoctrination, then some level of ethical thinking and reflection is required. This is a major topic that deserves a whole reflection (eventually).
In short, to achieve MOE’s desired outcomes, students need to master Cohen’s classic ‘complex thinking processes’: critical thinking, decision making, creative thinking and problem thinking. They also need to have helpful intellectual dispositions. Different gurus have different formulations of these dispositions. Robert Ennis, for instance, believed in 14 different critical thinking dispositions, that good thinkers are disposed to seek more information, to investigate grounds for their claims, to examine things from different perspectives and so on. Richard Paul, on the other hand, emphasized intellectual humility, perseverance, courage, empathy and fair-mindedness. Then there are of course Costa and Kallick’s 16 Habits of Minds.
Indeed, as we delve into the literature on thinking skills, and as taxonomies, models and lists multiply, one increasingly realises how much needs to be done, and how little has actually been done to help pupils cultivate the ‘philosophical heart, and a philosophical mind’ necessary for attaining the desired outcomes.
I would think that MOE framed these desired outcomes to prepare our folks for the challenges of the new century (‘social efficiency’ ideology) and also to improve the quality of our citizens and thus our society (‘social reconstruction’ ideology). On the matter of social reconstruction: it is clear that a society with more self-directed, confident, active and concerned citizens would indeed be a more wonderful society. However, I would personally prefer more eccentricity and creative insanity, more (metaphorical and literal) star gazing and tree hugging as well.
Put less flippantly, I think education must not exclude the spiritual dimension—the world of bright dawns, dark nights, arduous quests and guiding love. We move beyond the rational here. Reason, like Dante’s Virgil, is a great guide to the gates of heaven, yet greater and surer Powers are needed beyond. Unfortunately, in a world where different cults and creeds are generally quite intent on tearing each other apart (even if such murderous activities are sublimated into intellectual warfare or suppressed through law’s strong arm), a ‘spiritual education’ promoted by a centralised state system typically means little more than the imposition of a state creed, or a superficial, pale and uncommitted ‘equal consideration’ of all creeds. These things are hardly ‘spiritual’. At the very minimum, a spiritual education would require enough educators who are themselves spiritual, teachers who have consecrated themselves utterly to some higher Truth, and who have transformed themselves in the image of that Truth. Such an ideal would be met with incredulity in most parts of the education world today—and I suppose this is a sign of how far we are from truly spiritual education. Perhaps the fire of the Spirit is for the education of another age.
Moving beyond MOE’s desired outcomes, and looking at our original question from another perspective: thinking well is simply the actualisation of one of humanity’s greatest gifts: our rational faculty. To think well is to actualise our humanity. If education is about some kind of self-actualisation, then it must cultivate thinking.
Moving away from the ultimate purposes of education, it is my regular experience that teachers who promote thinking promote engagement. For instance, in Republic Polytechnique, I have interviewed former NT and NA students who love the PBL system there because they like to find new things out and apply them to solve problems. They like, in other words, to think. They do not miss the sleep- inducing lessons they used to have. Feedback from my own students have also indicated that they like ‘intellectual stimulating lessons’. They like to understand new things, and they like to exercise their minds.
Finally, but most importantly, we live in a century where thoughtlessness is lethal. In Accident: A Day’s News, a novel about the Chernobyl catastrophe, an East German character notes the sleepwalking qualities of most of her fellow citizens, how ‘their desire for a comfortable life, their tendency to believe the speakers on raised platforms and the men in white coats, the addiction to harmony and the fear of contradiction of the many seemed to correspond to the arrogance and hunger for power, the dedication to profit, unscrupulous inquisitiveness, and self-infatuation of the few’.
Can the citizens of the 21st century afford to be unreflecting sleepwakers who blindly accept the status quo? In April 2000, Bill Joy, one of the founders of Sun Microsystems, published an article called ‘Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us’. The article argued convincingly that advancing nanotechnology, artificial intelligence and robotics technologies will increasingly make possible the spectre of ‘knowledge-enabled mass destruction’ (KMD). KMD is mass murder made cheap and democratized, with knowledge being the main and sufficient ingredient. Building nuclear weaponry requires massive and expensive investments impossible for many nations. 21st century technologies may eventually allow a neurotic teen to wipe out a city with a homemade virus. And KMD weapons easily self-replicate. We don’t expect nuclear missiles to build themselves and fire off; but pathogens and killer nanobots readily multiply and fill the earth.
This is a problem for the world, of course, not merely for Singapore. As humanity’s power increases, our thought and ethics and spirituality must grow correspondingly. We already have a nuclear arsenal fully adequate to incinerate our civilisation and make the rubble bounce. With the eventual advent of KMD, sleepwalking cannot be an option. We need a thinking citizenry at the very least; and most optimally, a civilisation of the Spirit. To preserve our civilisation, we must be able to challenge madness and thanatos.

In the 21st century, humanity may well have to choose between ‘suicide or adoration’. Education may determine which.


Given the importance of thinking, the natural question then is how we could promote it. It is time to focus on Socrates, and discuss concrete applications in my role as a teacher and staff developer. This would be the focus of my next reflection.







Reflection 3

In the previous reflections, I have considered a vision of education and the reasons for its incarnation. In the next few reflections, I would consider some concrete applications.

For the past 5 years, I have had many educational adventures. As I was a teacher of GEP students (now called 'SBGE' (school-based gifted education) pupils), I had the opportunity to teach essentially JC topics to S4 pupils, while teaching 'normal' language and literature topics to S1-S2 pupils. As HCI, my previous school, had a 'sabbatical' system where teachers could use 1 week per term to teach whatever they wanted, I also initiated courses featuring metaphysics on the one hand, and economics on the other. When I departed to GE Branch, I continued mentoring some former students in English and economics--and this tutoring 'CIP' later evolved into a course on economics and philosophy. I relished the opportunity to continually translate what I learnt at the Branch into immediate practice.

In my adventures through English, literature, economics and philosophy—subjects which are pretty different from each other—I managed to apply and test many practices for teaching skills, understandings and facts. Throughout it all, my belief in the importance of engaging pupils in thinking continued to grow. In my last reflection, I have illustrated some of the grounds for that belief. It was a belief that I had from the beginning-though my methods and knowledge were primitive then, being largely confined to some basic training in Paul's elements of thought. This training was later supplemented (before and during MLS) by my readings in informal logic, questioning techniques, concept teaching strategies, concept-based curriculum and the analysis of text structures. Whatever I learnt, I quickly practised. Of course, many things did not work well, but many did.

Soon, I will be heading to Fuhua Secondary School as their SSD. While Fuhua pupils are relatively strong academically (compared to most mainstream schools), the profile of students there would be quite different from those I used to teach. A key concern then is how to differentiate the teaching of thinking for readiness. In this reflection and the next, I would reflect on some principles garnered from reading and experimentation that might prove useful in my personal teaching. I would have to reflect on my staff development work in future reflections.

Before I begin, I think it is useful to focus on a conception of teaching suited for the cultivation of thought. To be good teachers of thinking, we must, to some extent, be midwives. As Socrates, the archetypal midwife, puts it in the Theaetetus::

Soc. Well, my art of midwifery is in most respects like theirs; but differs, in that I attend men and not women; and look after their souls when they are in labour, and not after their bodies: and the triumph of my art is in thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the young man brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth. And like the mid-wives, I am barren, and the reproach which is often made against me, that I ask questions of others and have not the wit to answer them myself….And therefore I am not myself at all wise, nor have I anything to show which is the invention or birth of my own soul, but those who converse with me profit. Some of them appear dull enough at first, but afterwards, as our acquaintance ripens, if the god is gracious to them, they all make astonishing progress; and this in the opinion of others as well as in their own. It is quite dear that they never learned anything from me; the many fine discoveries to which they cling are of their own making. But to me and the god they owe their delivery.

To be a good teacher of thinking, we must first have the correct self-image. We need to shift our self-conception from being solely a fertile dispenser of information (the clichéd ‘sage on the stage’), to being a barren Socratic midwife. Our objectives, instructional activities and assessment tasks should include at least some provision for easing the birth of thought and understanding, and for building our students’ capacity to give birth. We also need to have the constant habit of “thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the young man [person] brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth”, and provide feedback and adjust our instruction accordingly.

From this vision flows the rest.

1) Apply an Eclectic Conception of Thinking to Guide Instruction and Assessment

Midwives of thinking need to know a reasonably comprehensive list of thinking skills—they need to know the babies they want. Ideally, they should know at least one pedagogically useful model of thinking. There are many of these out there. The one I have used most frequently would be Richard Paul’s model of critical thinking. This model is useful for questioning (‘Socratic questioning’), and the design of instructional and assessment tasks. In addition, the model can be applied across most subjects—certainly it can be used in the four subjects I have dabbled in. (Math GEP teachers seem to have some difficulty using Paul’s wheel though, preferring Polya’s heuristics.) The Revised Bloom’s Taxonomy is also useful for the same purposes, and its higher levels can be used to stimulate both critical and creative thinking. Costa and Kallick’s Habits of Mind are also a valuable and user-friendly list of intelligent dispositions that can guide our teaching and assessing.

Beyond these ‘pedagogically’ oriented models, I have found it extremely helpful to apply the insights of argument analysis in my teaching. The concepts of logical validity and soundness, and the distinction between premise and claim, the difference between deductive and inductive arguments (in informal logic, the former means the kind of logically valid arguments where if the premises are correct, the claim must be correct; the latter means the kind of arguments where even if the premises are correct, the claim is only probable) are also useful for the analysis of thinking. The art of turning a cloudy and wordy argument into a clear diagram on paper (‘to put into standard form’) is one that can usefully used to help students to examine their own thinking, and to help them construct arguments (more on that later).

For myself, I think the most optimal mode of operation would be to use Paul’s wheel and model as the basis for instructional and assessment design, but complement it with other perspectives (like the ‘creating’ level of Bloom’s; the different Habits of Mind; the concepts and skills of informal logic) where necessary. This is quite possible as there are significant areas of overlaps between the different taxonomies and models (after all they are dealing with the same phenomenon), and they are seldom contradictory.

Such an eclectic approach will probably allow maximum flexibility to differentiate for readiness, interests and learning profiles—something that will likely be sorely needed in my new environment. It is probably ideal to know a few models of thinking, and then apply them flexibly according to the situation.

In my next reflection, I would illustrate a few other principles for teaching thinking.

Reflection 4

This reflection will continue discussing the principles of teaching thinking.

Writing is thinking

One of the best and most natural ways to teach thinking is to teach writing. Firstly, writing incarnates thought, whether we are considering economics essays, philosophical discourses, literary criticism, argumentative essays or fictional writings. Quality writing requires the pre-existence of quality thought. Secondly, for any type of writing, the writer must always consider his purpose, and then consider the best way to achieve his purpose given his audience and context. Strategic thinking is therefore crucial.

We will begin by considering the first point with reference to several types of writing.

There are a number of text patterns ('top-level' structures) which can be found in non-fiction writing. Two main types are argumentative structures where reasons are used to support claims and explanatory structures with cause and effect chains. For the first, students can only write good arguments if they first able to construct them. And they are only able to do this if they are able to use sound premises to support intermediate conclusions (if any) well, which in turn serve as premises for the final claim. Justification of claims is clearly a thinking skill. To a great extent, this skill is innate—most human beings have some a priori knowledge of the rules of inference. Philosophers argue much about how this is possible, but not many would deny we do know the rules of logic to some extent without being taught; and when we are taught these rules, the teaching seemingly reminds us and makes us more aware of something we already know.

We should be midwives who help students to give birth. We should help them to practice and refine the innate reasoning power they already possess. One of the most effective ways to do this would be to teach students how to turn a cloudy and wordy argument in their heads into a clear diagram on paper—a key skill used in informal logic ('put into standard form'), and one that can be integrated into the planning stage of process writing. The clear distinction made between premises, intermediate claims and final claims, and the greater light shed on the materials and architecture of thought, mean students are able to employ their reasoning abilities more effectively. To complement this, students also need to be taught (or perhaps reminded of) the standards of sound intellectual standards and habits (like those from Richard Paul) to evaluate and be meta-cognitive about the quality of their arguments.

For explanatory writing, equivalent strategies are necessary. For instance, pupils need to be clear about the cause and effect chains through the use of graphic organisers like the fishbone diagram. They also should know and apply the criteria for good explanations.

For fictional writing, creative thinking comes to the fore. Students need to be taught strategies to fluently generate a variety of ideas for characters, settings, plot and so on. They need to use visualisation skills to evoke scene, experience them with all five senses, and enter into their mood and atmosphere; students need to experience their characters, and even become the characters they craft, experiencing their thoughts, passions and characteristics as one’s own. They need to generate different plots and complications, preferably driven by the desires and natures of the characters.

Moving on to the second point, students have to think strategically to cater to their audience after generating sound and creative thought. In their planning, they have to be taught how to take into account the prior knowledge and perspectives of their audience, when framing their arguments and explanations and stories. They have to address gaps in knowledge, misconceptions, and entrenched points of views. Besides appealing to logos, they also need to appeal to pathos and ethos by carefully targeting the emotions of their audience and maintaining credibility through the use of appropriate tone, language and appealing authorities.

In essence, when we teach students to write effectively, we are teaching them to think effectively. For Fuhua students, I would probably have to differentiate for readiness and ask them analyse and construct simpler arguments, explanations and stories. I will have to use less complex resources and provide more scaffolding. But I do think the fundamental strategies or aims should not change, and I have the faith that they would enjoy thinking as much as my former students. They may use simpler words or less immaculate grammar, but I firmly believe they can produce quality thought.

Quality questions are needed for quality thought

This principle is central to Socrates’s pedagogy. To be a midwife of thought, one needs to ask good questions that promote higher order thinking. For this, we can depend on some taxonomy like Revised Bloom’s or Marzano’s, or use Paul’s elements of thought to generate questions that cause pupils to consider different perspectives, justify their opinions, evaluate their evidence, generate new ideas, question their assumptions, infer multiple implications, categorise ideas and so on.

In addition, one can use these taxonomies to train students to generate higher order questions. Indeed, this is arguably even more important than asking higher order questions (though the teacher would of course have to model the practice). For we want to produce students who have the habit of critically questioning what they read and hear about, whether from peers, from books or from us. As such, a functioning thinking classroom would be one where the teacher steps aside quite frequently, and where students take up much of the burden of discussion and thinking.

Is this possible for my students in a mainstream school? With suitable differentiation and adjustment, and with enough time and patience, there is no reason why it is not.

Concepts unify; concepts engage

The final principle is to that even in a largely skills-based subject like English, we need to base our teaching on concepts and generalisations. I use Hilda Taba’s definition of a concept as a word describing a class of objects with common elements, like love, setting, animals, justice, energy, demand and so on. Generalisations are statements that express relationship(s) between two or more concepts (e.g. energy cannot be created or destroyed, equity is often secured at the expense of efficiency). By their very nature, concepts and generalisations unify discrete facts, and can be applied to understand different phenomena and to solve problems in many contexts. As such, they tend to organize our knowledge, and produce ‘aha’ moments where we feel that our understanding of ourselves and the world has grown. By contrast, teaching that is largely mainly on discrete facts and skills tend to be much less engaging and cognitively stimulating.
Unlike the teaching of facts, one cannot teach concepts and generalisations by simply telling them to students, unless the students have the training and readiness to spontaneously connect the concepts and principles to their prior knowledge and experiences. Generally, it is important even when using direct instruction to exemplify concepts and principles extensively, and/or to use different strategies to stimulate pupils to relate what they know to the concepts and principles. It is in fact often better to use inductive methods like concept attainment, concept development or inquiry where pupils infer generalisations from examining phenomena or facts. In that way, pupils would be more certain and convinced about the grounds for their knowledge. Similarly, to achieve deep understanding, it is important to put contradictory generalisations and theories (which are constructed from a set of coherent generalisations) together, so that pupils are forced to consider different perspectives and acquire a comprehensive appreciation of the grounds for the generalisations or theories—including why opposite opinions are not true.
It is probable that students who are weaker in their linguistic abilities would require a significant dose of skills training (though even this can easily go beyond drill and recitation), and thus less time is available for concept development and learning. Yet, to promote reading, listening, speaking and writing skills students need to understand concepts like audience, coherence, setting, plot, climax and so on. And many effective strategies that undoubtedly improve language skills have the potential for concept teaching. Examples include integrating themed literature to hook students to read, using debate and discussion to consider social issues, teaching vocabulary acquisition strategies based on word categorisation, and teaching students reading comprehension strategies that help them connect their reading to personal experiences, other texts and self.
All in all, I look forward to new experiments, new adventures and new discoveries in my next posting.



Reflection 5
Educational Reform in Gondor
Part I
When we apply principles and theories to new and alien contexts, our understanding usually deepens. This reflection will attempt to do just that.
Leaving our hot and over-familiar island for another world and another age, we arrive in Middle Earth after the great war of the Ring. Sauron and his dark empire have fallen. The elves have left for happier shores. The heroic hobbits are back in the Shire.
King Aragorn reigns in Gondor over the last descendants of the ancient Numenoreans—the great fallen civilization of the Second Age. A new golden age has seemingly begun for this ancient kingdom. Their great enemy is no more, the orcs are scattered, and enemy human kingdoms are humbled. But clearly, many things are far from well. The loss and destruction during the war of the Ring have been enormous. The already small population has been further diminished, many irreplaceable talents have been killed (like the old Steward and his eldest son), the old capital Osiligath is still a mound of ruins, countless buildings in Minas Tirith have been destroyed, trade has been disrupted, and probably most farms around the city have become orc fodder. The economy is in the grip of a deep recession and there is no money for stimulus spending and no central bank that can cut interest rates. Most of the territories that used to be part of the empires of Gondor and Arnor are either depopulated, desolate or in enemy hands.
Gondor, the last outpost of golden Numenor, is clearly a third-world nation with a glorious past. How can judicious policies by Gondor’s MOE save the day?
First, we must recognize that the MOE has limited resources. Despite the large dowry that probably came with the new elvish queen, public finance is in a precarious state after years of deficit spending. The first question then is whether a state educational system directed from the white tower of Minas Tirith is a sound proposition, or whether King Aragorn should simply leave education to the vagaries of the free market and the preferences of individuals and guilds. At most, perhaps, given the positive externalities of education, Aragorn should channel an inner Milton Friedman and distribute educational vouchers to private citizen as a form of indirect subsidy.
Yet Gondor is a civilization with ancient traditions that date back more 6000 years to the ‘Eldest Days’. A state directed education with a centralised curriculum and the state training of teachers has a higher chance of preserving these traditions than private education in the hands of unpredictable private citizens. After all, state education allows the elite to dictate what is valuable and worth perpetuating, and that would no doubt include the fine traditions and beliefs that would produce future crops of brave soldiers with a taste for elvish literature. In addition, a state education system compels all young Gondor citizens to undergo a shared ‘national’ experience that is likely to lead to greater bonding. State education could be also designed to be uniformly Spartan in nature, including rigorous physical training that produces young men and women who can run for hours in full armor after marauding orcs. State education could inculcate a proper reverence for an aristocratic political tradition that has lasted since the remote age of the Edain. State education can inculcate discipline and obedience, and train the people of the lower classes to defer automatically to their betters and to accept their place in a glorious hierarchy where they are at the bottom. State education allows master artisans to train the young in making chairs, tables, swords and giant statues exactly as the ancient Numenoreans made them 5000 years ago. It will help shape the aesthetic tastes of apprentices and preempt any unseemly and unelvish innovations.
In short, if Aragorn wishes primarily to conserve the glories of the past, and ensure a supply of docile peasants and loyal soldiers, state education is the way to go. After all, is not one of the main purpose of education to ensure the ‘social continuity of life’? As Dewey puts it:
“Every one of the constituent elements of a social group, in a modern city as in a savage tribe, is born immature, helpless, without language, beliefs, ideas or social standards. Each individual who is the carrier of the life-experience of his group, in time passes away. Yet the life of the group goes on.” (Democracy and Education)
The medium through which the life of a group is renewed is education. It seems logical for Gondor to aim at perpetual conservation through education. Thus, should Aragorn arduously raise funds to supplement his meagre MOE budget? Perhaps he can persuade his queen to share the recipe for baking elvish bread. Giant state confectioneries baking these energizing delights for export will certainly generate enormous profits.
Yet given Gondor’s precarious situation, is mere conservation sufficient? Gondor’s technological prowess, excepting its exceptional skills in building lofty structures and monuments, is nothing remarkable. It is probably somewhat at the level of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Certainly there is no evidence from the Silmarillion or the Lord of the Rings trilogy that Gondor or Arnor have made any improvement to the craft and knowledge of Numenor over 3000 years. Indeed, there is every possibility of that technical skills have regressed. And civilizations with such primitive technology is ever in danger of being destroyed by lusty barbarians. Witness the fate of the western Roman empire, or the numerous and successful invasions of China from the north. Gondor, despite its great victory in the war of the Ring, is surrounded by hostile Harad and Umbar, and threatened by remnant Orcs.
Clearly, with a small economic and population base, and with its resources further diminished by war, merely conserving the old ways is not sufficient. It is probably a recipe for eventual national extinction.



















Reflection 6
Part II
Now, theoretically, Gondorian state education need not be merely conservative. Aragorn can wake up one morning and decide to build thinking schools and a learning nation. He can exhort his sages to teach less, so that his peasants can learn more.
The big problem is that the culture of Gondor appears to be primarily conservative, and addicted to customs and ancient literature. As Dewey wrote, ‘in static societies, societies which make the maintenance of established custom their measure of value’ education is simply about the child ‘catching up with the aptitudes and resources of the adult group.’ A good example of this would be imperial China, where classical learning and recitation, and the reproduction of tradition norms, were the most important aims of education. This is in contrast to more progressive societies, like modern industrial civilization, where education is usually viewed as a ‘constructive agency of improving society’, where education, ‘instead of reproducing certain habits, better habits shall be formed, and thus the future adult society be an improvement on their own’ (Democracy and Education). Singapore’s state education, for instance, certainly aims at producing citizens who have better knowledge, skills and habits on average than the previous generation—though how well it has succeeded is debatable.
It seems then, that if Aragorn wishes to use progressive state education as a means to strengthen Gondor, he may very well end up destroying much of its culture. This may not be a bad thing, since Gondor’s culture is apparently centred on imitating the civilisation of the Eldar (something that mostly perished in the First Age). Therefore, even at its very best, Gondor’s civilization would merely be an imitative thing, and its model citizens would be humans sculpted crudely in the alien image of immortal elves.
So let us say Aragorn takes the plunge. After all, as the first King of Gondor in a new Age, as a leader with undoubted credentials and pedigree, and with the old elite destroyed or in disarray, Aragorn has the political capital to push for such drastic reforms (unless his 3000-year-old wife, with a different perspective on things, objects). So how would a progressive Gondorian educational system look like? Given the undeveloped state of Gondor, something along the lines of modern mass education is out of the question (since it places a premium on scientific knowledge, inquiry and training—all of which clearly do not exist in Gondor). And Aragorn could not rely on private education either, since the all-pervasive conservative culture certainly implies conservative private education. For instance, the lack of progress in craft and technology over 3000 years is a telling sign that Gondor’s guild-based education is primarily about replicating the arts of Numenorean forefathers. To reform Gondor, a bold king of education with bold ideas is needed.
The best that could be done (and even that is assuming a relatively high degree of pre-existing mental culture) would be setting up institutions like Plato’s Academy, Aristotle’s Lyceum or the Museum of Alexandria—places where free thought and reason can flourish, and where human beings can improve their intellectual and ethical development through the cut and thrust of dialogues and inquiry. After all, one of the most crucial ingredients of a progressive civilisation is the propensity to question everything and anything. This tendency is best cultivated by institutions that encourage the use of reason to discover greater truths and critically examine existing social, ethical, technological, and religious norms in the hope of improving them. In essence, to set up educational institutions for training the philosophical heart and mind would be the foundation of a increasingly progressive and rational society, which may eventually, in centuries to come, lead to cultural, philosophical, economic, technical and even scientific achievements that surpass that of old Numenor. Such progress would make Gondor completely secure against external barbarians and less advanced nations. A parallel situation would be how western European nations managed to defeat everyone else and dominate the globe in the 19th and early 20th century.
Of course, the one problem with this cheery picture (besides the gradual or quick destruction of the old ossified culture) is that more and more citizens would be questioning the aristocratic political order. After all the rule of the ‘old Houses’ is merely customary, not based on rational justification. The military traditions of Gondor might also be undermined, with detrimental consequences for national security. And if the rule and life of reason becomes a mass phenomenon, it is almost inevitable that ordinary citizens would demand greater voice and representation in governance. Hence, the empire of Gondor would give way to the republic of Gondor. This is not inevitable, of course, since cultivating the life of reason in the masses require economic resources far beyond that of Aragorn’s Gondor and is a long-term prospect at best.
In addition, while progressive and technologically advanced societies like ours are fully secure against external barbarism, it is far more capable of mutual- and self-destruction. A prospect of a world like ours, which is threatened by nuclear apocalypse and a grisly parade of man-made horrors, is not a pretty one. Gondor may be able to avoid our fate by developing the whole life of reason in its progress instead of just a few lucrative aspects of it. Modern civilization has developed the scientific and economic domains enormously, but comparatively neglected the ethical, metaphysical and aesthetic dimensions. Nor has it succeeded in truly developing a high level of intellectual culture among the masses. If Gondor manages to do what we have failed to do, it may well be able to survive its own power.
It is a pity that both Gandalf and Galadriel, with their mystical abilities and knowledge have left for Valinor. It would be most ideal if Gandalf could be persuaded to ‘dumbledore’ a Gondor Academy of Magic, or at least train a cadre of flame-wielding wizards for national defense. If something of their knowledge and lore had been retained, it may be that Gondor can develop into mystic civilization instead of a technological one (mystic training of course requires a mystic pedagogy beyond the scope of these reflections). But since that is clearly no longer a viable alternative, it appears that Gondor has to philosophise or perish.





















Reflection 7
In this essay, I will reflect on the key features of the New Zealand schools our team visited from 15-03-10 to 21-03-10. This reflection is adapted from the overall analysis I wrote for the NZ school report.
Autonomy for School Leaders The schools we visited were either state schools (Bayfield High and Lincoln High) or semi-autonomous Integrated schools (Columba College and St Hilda’s Collegiate) which obtain part of their funding from the government. However, the Principals of the 4 schools enjoy great autonomy and are mostly accountable to their school boards and not to the Ministry of Education. Thus school leaders and their boards freely recruit, appraise and dismiss staff, and they determine most curriculum and management matterthough they are still loosely guided by the national curriculum and Ministry regulations.
Singapore’s system, by contrast, is far more centralised. The recruitment, deployment and training of teachers are handled by the Ministry. School leaders are appraised using similar criteria, and all schools, even independent schools, are appraised regularly by the Ministry using the SEM. While the EPMS and SEM systems allow some room for school leaders to maneuver within strict limits, there is still far greater uniformity here than in the New Zealand system. Indeed, the four schools we visited are significantly different in their focus and operations.
The chief advantage of greater freedom and autonomy is that school leaders are able to act flexibly and design school curriculum and programmes that are highly differentiated for the needs of their communities and students. The New Zealand system also allows school leaders more room to innovate, and try out new methods of management and teaching. However, an important disadvantage of New Zealand’s system is that the performance of a school is highly dependent on the capability and personality of the Principal. This probably means that there is much greater divergence in performance within the New Zealand system than within ours, which is a system that uses rigorous centralised appraisal and staff development systems to produce ‘high averages’—though perhaps by sacrificing some of the benefits that come from more freedom and diversity.
Differentiated Instruction The 4 schools visited do not select their students based on academic merit, but by a combination of factors resembling those used by our primary schools (e.g. priority is given to students living near the school). As such, while all four schools are high performing schools (including some that are among the top schools of the country), they still harbor a much wider range of students than that found in our IP schools.
As such, there is a strong emphasis on differentiated instruction in the schools. For instance, all 4 schools uses asTTle (Assessment Tools for Teaching and Learning) developed for the Ministry of Education by the University of Auckland for assessing the readiness of their pupils in literacy and numeracy. The data gleaned from this assessment is then used by teachers to differentiate their instruction for pupils of varying abilities. Some schools (e.g. Columba and Bayfield) also use it to band their students in classes of broadly similar abilities. However, it appears that class groupings are flexible, and students are not basically ‘locked’ into a stream, as asTTle results is viewed as only a ‘snapshot’ of the pupils’ abilities.
The small class sizes (20-30) of New Zealand schools also permit teachers to know their students better, and cater more readily to the readiness, interests and learning profiles of their pupils.
In our system, national exam results are used to sort pupils into ‘streams’ that they could not easily change. One of the justifications for streaming is to allow pupils of varying abilities to receive differentiated educational experiences. Yet the ‘differentiation’ is mostly accomplished based on a single summative assessment (whether at primary 4, primary 6 or Sec 4/5) which may or may not refer the true abilities of a child, which could also grow or atrophy dramatically over time. In addition, pupils in ‘inferior’ streams, like the NT and NA streams, frequently suffer from poor self-esteem that hinders the development of their potential. Furthermore, despite the streaming, there is still a need for teachers to differentiate further given that the wide range of abilities within a stream.
The New Zealand experience with mixed-ability classes or flexibly banded classes, also seem to indicate that it is possible to differentiate instruction without streaming, as long as the teacher is skilled and dedicated, and as long as there is sufficient support from the administrators. Small class sizes also do not hurt. However, the key disadvantage of the New Zealand system is that whether differentiation is done well, or done at all, is again largely dependent on the competence of the administrators and teachers, while our system ‘differentiates’ (albeit somewhat crudely) on a national level. In addition, reducing class sizes will lead to the well-known problem of reducing the standards for teacher recruitment, and thus compromising the quality of teachers.
A Culture of Learning One common characteristic of the high-performing schools we visited is a strong emphasis on staff learning and student learning. The former is manifested by the enthusiastic involvement of school administrators in developing their teachers, and their belief in the importance of staff development.
A culture of student learning is especially evident in Columba College and St Hilda’s Collegiate. The administrators and teachers of both school convey high expectations for student achievement, and there is strong positive peer pressure that encourages girls to set and achieve high academic standards with tenacity and discipline. Unlike many New Zealand students who value sporting achievements above academic achievements, the pupils of Columba and St Hilda’s celebrate and value academic excellence. In addition, the disciplined environment of both schools, where high expectations for student conduct are rigorously enforced, supports teaching and learning. Finally, the comfortable home environments of most of their students, and parents who care deeply for education, are important success factors.
The importance of a culture of learning to the success of Columba and St Hilda’s clearly highlights one of the most important factors for the success of Singapore’s system: a national culture that values academic success, and school environments that place a premium on discipline and self-control.


To sum up, my tentative conclusion is that the NZ system is one that could potentially work far better than ours: being more adaptable and respecting of student dignity. However, it is our system, with its mechanisms of supervision and centralized appraisal, that is more suitable for imperfect human beings, and one that can produce high average outcomes. Yet if our teachers and leaders become increasingly ready to be ‘left alone’ through growth and development, something like the NZ system is the way to go.

















Reflection 8
Reflection on St Hilda’s Collegiate School
This essay is a detailed reflection on our team visit to St Hilda’s Collegiate School. This reflection is adapted from the section I wrote on St Hilda’s in the NZ school report.
Introduction
St Hilda’s is an integrated school of 400 students, with approximately one-third of the school being boarding students from the Otago and Southland regions.
Founded in 1896, St Hilda’s has a proud tradition and reputation as a school which promotes Christian values, educational excellence and high levels of achievement in all fields. It was originally a private school established by Anglican sisters and today the school retains its close links with the Anglican Church. The school welcomes students from any background who are in sympathy with its values and ethics.
The governance of the school is the responsibility of the Board of Trustees, made up of the elected parent representatives, Board of Proprietors’ appointees, the Principal, a staff representative and a student representative.
There are 2 years at which most students enter St Hilda’s –Year 7 or Year 9. The students admitted are of varying academic abilities as they are not selected based on their prior academic performance. Instead, the school’s admission process gives priority to students who are living nearby, from Anglican families, or who have parents or siblings who are alumni. The students of St Hilda’s are often from privileged socio-economic backgrounds, and the school has a long waiting list.
School Culture
I think that perhaps the most striking characteristic about St Hilda’s, and its key success factor, is its tradition of providing a rigorous and safe environment guided by Christian values and principles. Indeed, the administrators and teachers convey and enforce high and clear standards of conduct. These expectations encourage pupils to strive for excellence in all aspects of school life, and to embody self-belief, self-discipline and exemplary work ethic. The school also inculcates the values of integrity, loyalty, respect, compassion and justice. Girls are also expected to contribute effectively to team and group work.
Besides this, the Principal, the Deputy and Assistant Principals, Deans, Guidance Counsellor, Tutors and Chaplain form a pastoral care network. The school also works closely with parents (who are usually enthusiastic and supportive) to support the character development of pupils. Chapel sessions also take place twice a week, and are compulsory for all pupils. In general, the school values every student and believes that every one of them can achieve in a supportive environment where clear guidelines and high standards are set out and rigorously upheld.
St Hilda’s balances its emphasis on order and self-control with the belief that every pupil should be provided with many choices and given many opportunities to develop their diverse talents. Thus achievement and effort in all fields are recognized and celebrated in various ways. St Hilda’s also provides a wide variety of academic options in Years 11-13, and an extensive range of cultural and sporting activities. Finally, pupils are expected to respect the rights and differences of others,
Teaching and Learning
St Hilda’s is nationally recognized as a centre of learning excellence. Its students consistently achieve outstanding results in the national examinations. Student achievement is also regularly monitored and the school’s data indicates that the school is adding significant value to the students’ learning.
I do agree with the Principal that the single most important reason for this outstanding performance is St Hilda’s culture of excellence. There is strong positive peer pressure that encourages girls to set and achieve high academic standards with tenacity and discipline. Unlike many New Zealand students who value sporting achievements above academic achievements, the pupils of St Hilda’s celebrate and value academic excellence. In addition, the disciplined environment of the school also supports teaching and learning. Finally, the comfortable home environments of most of the girls, and parents who care deeply for education, are important success factors.
The Principal also takes pride in the high quality and dedication of her teachers—who are carefully chosen from a long list of eager candidates, and are then developed through learning communities. In particular, the Principal emphasizes the need for teachers to cater to the individual needs of pupils given that St Hilda’s has mostly mixed-ability classes. Generally, because of the small classes of 20-30 pupils, each student enjoys significant individual attention and the teachers could readily cater to their learning needs. In addition, the school believes that academically proficient girls do inspire and help their less able peers to excel.
Lesson Observations
In general, the lessons observed demonstrated the principles of good teaching and the teachers were generally enthusiastic and skilled.
Lesson Observation 1: Social Studies and Language Arts Integrated Lesson
In this lesson, pupils had to plan a road trip around New Zealand. They had to pick and justify the attractions they wished to visit, and select an appropriate and environmentally friendly vehicle. In addition to drawing on their prior knowledge and experience, the students had to use the internet to do some self-directed research.
It was observed that the pupils were engaged, disciplined, confident and able to justify their opinions well. They were also able to proactively react to the needs of visitors with politeness and grace. Interactions between students were also respectful and warm. The teacher was clear and expressive in her explanations when answering the numerous questions of the pupils. She also consistently demonstrated appropriate friendliness and care for students. The students exhibited clear respect and affection for their teacher.
The lesson involved an authentic and interesting real-world problem that integrated several disciplines. It likely helped the students to gain deeper environmental awareness, and greater knowledge and appreciation of New Zealand. It probably also improved their research, thinking, ICT and self-direction skills. From the lesson observation, it is not fully certain which language skills are meant to be cultivated.
Lesson Observation 2: Kiwi English
This lesson was on Kiwi English, which is the brand of English that is unique to New Zealand. The lesson was conducted by the deputy Principal, a lady with an authoritative physical presence and great enthusiasm for her subject. The class was driven by questions, and the teacher managed to involve most of her class through her teaching.
The class had done previous research on Kiwi language, and the teacher skillfully uncovered the importance of language in defining national identify, while imparting knowledge of many ‘Kiwi’ terms. The students were engaged and enthusiastic in the lesson.
Lesson Observation 3: Creative Writing
This was a lesson on creative writing. The teacher attempted to activate the prior knowledge of the pupils through questioning, but pupil participation was somewhat lacking, perhaps because they were not able to recall what they had learnt. The teacher had access to several exemplars, and she used one of them to demonstrate the qualities set out in the creative writing rubrics. The top exemplar is very impressive, and is an indication that St Hilda’s students are capable of extremely high levels of achievement.
Key Learning Points
To create a culture of learning and excellence…
• It is important for teachers and leaders to consistently convey high expectations for all students.
• Teachers and leaders must sincerely believe that all students can achieve high standards.
• Students must believe that they could achieve high standards, and value these standards.
• Students must value academic achievements.
• Teachers and leaders need to help students to value and cultivate self-discipline and diligence.
• Parents need to be supportive of the school’s efforts.
• Teachers and students should respect and celebrate diversity.
• Students should be provided with multiple pathways, opportunities and facilities to develop their diverse talents.





















Reflection 10: The Last
This is the last reflection. I shall turn this reflection onto myself, and ponder what the last 5 months at MLS have taught me about my learning styles: namely, on whether I am more of a ‘theorist’, a ‘reflector’ or a ‘pragmatist’. This reflection extends an earlier reflection for the andragogy module.
“He who loves practice without theory is like the sailor who boards ship without a rudder and compass and never knows where he may cast.”
--Leonardo Da Vinci
In everyday life, ‘theories’ often refer to the kind of provisional intellectual models all of us build to make sense of the world. These theories could be founded on authority, empirical evidence, a priori perceptions, faith, intuition, or nothing. In the physical sciences, ‘theories’ refer to intellectual models of the world that are well supported by empirical evidence and testing. Theories are constructed by ‘theorists’, but with the help of data collected by ‘reflectors’ (who may very well be the same people). In education research, the same essentially applies, though the inferences drawn are far less certain due to the context-bound nature of social research and the difficulty of setting up reliable control groups. The problematic nature of educational research is certainly something I have become more aware of at MLS.
It is indeed probable that all theories, even those in the physical sciences and certainly those in the educational realm, are doubtful to some degree. To use the parlance of logic, all theories that are products of induction (and probably all theories would be so) could never be deductively certain. Personally, having considered a number of contentious issues, philosophical, scientific and educational, over the years, I have grown increasingly aware of how reason is quite able to justify contradictory theories and claims with equal strength. Thus if you rely on reason alone, you find the premises for theism weighed quite equally against the premises for atheism, the claims for determinism weighed against the claims for indeterminism, and so on. Two clashing systems—and reason champions both sides, and more besides.
But as mental beings, we must all operate using some mental models, some ‘theories’. It is the mission of the reasoning faculty to construct increasingly plausible and coherent models of the world. In that sense, I believe that all of us are ‘theorists’ to some extent, though not many may be aware of how awfully doubtful our theories can be
For myself, I do care deeply about models and principles, and the justification for them. I like to put ideas in right relations with each other, and to make intellectual sense of phenomena. I have a drive to relate idea with idea, and thoughts with observations. I am certainly a theorist, and I like theories.
So I am a skeptical theorist. On top of that, I am quite aware of the incompleteness of most mental models. Throughout the 10 reflections, I have been slowly groping towards a comprehensive intellectual model, a theory, of education. But these are but the babblings of a child. I think the main seeds are there which may one day blossom into a great forest, nicely intertwined. Indeed, even many long years from now, I do not think my fundamental vision would shift very far from an education dedicated to the cultivation of reason (‘a philosophical heart and mind’), and the complementary cultivation of the ethical and aesthetic powers. And I do see all these as being a preparatory movement that builds the foundation for spiritual fire.
Yet, while the essence may be somewhat clear, I am still very far from attaining a comprehensive and coherent theory of education. The first great attempt in this direction was by Plato. It is noteworthy that Plato embedded his main discussion of education philosophy in The Republic. Given the nature of that sublime dialogue, his philosophy of education is an integral part of a larger intellectual system that includes metaphysics, political philosophy, religious philosophy, ethics and aesthetics. Great thinkers are quite aware that we cannot fully know the purpose and nature of education without knowing the ends and nature of humans and their societies, without understanding the right, the good and the beautiful, and without perceiving the nature of mind and knowledge. What I am groping towards is a comprehensive and coherent set of ideas about education, and my state of knowledge is woefully inadequate for the task.
It is almost as if that to know anything truly, one must first know everything truly. But some might object: surely one knows that the sky is blue, or that one loves one’s wife. But even such seemingly obvious ‘knowledge’ crumbles with a little questioning. Ask about the nature of the sky and its blueness, and we are into a quest into the nature of consciousness and being and matter and knowledge and so on and so on.
So yes, I am a skeptical theorist who seeks an ever greater vision. These reflections, watered by 5 years of teaching and practice, are an infant start.
But at the same time, I like the kind of knowledge that allows me to act more effectively in the world. To some extent, most well grounded theories have some predictive value. And they can also indicate effective ways to achieve our aims. I search for theories not only because I like to make sense of the world, and to fit ideas neatly together, but also because I hope to shape the world more effectively. By understanding, for instance, a sensible, though undoubtedly incomplete, theory of curriculum design, or a model for differentiating instruction, one becomes far more able to craft a sequence of effective instruction. In that sense, I suppose I have an element of the ‘pragmatist’?
And finally, when applying a theory, I do reflect extensively on how well reality fits theory. This is clearly necessary given the incompleteness and uncertainty of our theories. It is through action and experience that we can understand our theories more deeply, and it is also there that we find their flaws and strengths. Thus, in that sense, I am a ‘reflector’ as well.
So in short, I think I am open to learning, whether through intellectual exploration and construction, or through experience and reflection. I am open to receiving truth in whatever way she chooses to come, and often, but not always, for the most pragmatic of reasons.
And thus, with this attitude, I continue patiently on the quest I have set out on: to find a comprehensive vision of education and the means for its incarnation.


The End