True Story 4.18
Shocking wall chart discovered in a Chinese classroom
The setting for this story
Wen was an American mathematician who had been born in China but then came to the U.S. at a young age. Years later, he returned to China to undertake research into mathematics teaching in secondary schools there, which necessitated classroom observations. In this story, Wen relates his reaction to one of his first observations.
A story of misaligned minds24
During my first observation of a seventh-grade math lesson for a class of more than 50 students, I was shocked by the presence of a huge sheet of paper hanging next to the blackboard on the front wall of the room. It displayed each student’s name, recent test score, and rank in both this class and the entire seventh grade. This was a sight that one would never encounter in an American classroom.
Wen’s question
Why do Chinese students and their parents tolerate such a public display of each student’s score and rank?
Critique of story 4.18
In Chinese secondary schools, publicly posting all students’ test scores and ranks is common, defended by teachers and students alike. That shocked Wen, too.
When Wen asked teachers about the practice, they explained that their top priority was making sure their students received very high scores on the all-important, hours-long college-entrance test, the gāokăo. More top scores would mean that more students from their school would be admitted to prestigious universities. It is on this basis alone that the Chinese public evaluates the worth of each secondary school.
When Wen asked students about this, they replied with statements such as, “Test scores determine which colleges we can be admitted to and therefore what life path we will follow. A single point on the gāokăo can literally make or break our future!” He also learned that, in many families, a child’s getting a top gāokăo score is the parents’ indisputable Number One priority. Two parents told Wen that they had asked teachers to give their child additional homework.
We Americans are aghast at the idea of openly posting grades and ranks because we view this information as private, known only to teacher, student, and parents (unless the student shares it with others). Those with some prior knowledge of China are surprised because they’ve heard that Chinese people value group harmony.25 They wonder, “Doesn’t publicly posting test scores and class ranks stimulate competition among the students, and doesn’t that undermine harmony among them?”
But in the Chinese context, the focus of competition is within oneself: To what extent can I push myself mentally and physically to thoroughly master – note the word master – all of the content being offered in all of my classes? A Chinese university student studying in New Zealand said that in her culture, competition for excellence was the target of learning. Another reported that the lack of publicly posted rankings in New Zealand disoriented him: “Without rankings, it’s difficult for me to find out where I’m positioned in the class.” It appears that Chinese students aren’t trying to beat each other; rather, they’re using each other’s ranks as benchmarks against which to pace and drive themselves.26
Yes, the scores of one’s fellow students provide some motivation. But for many students, stronger and more enduring motivation is supplied by the stratospheric expectations of a student’s parents and extended family members, which the student adopts as his own expectations of himself.
For thought
That last phrase, “which the student adopts as his own expectations of himself,” might not seem believable to you. You might be thinking, “I know of many cases in which a student’s parents and family had high expectations for their grades, but the student obviously did not share these high expectations for himself.” That’s often true – in the United States.
In China and across East Asia, a child learns from infancy to consider herself as whole when fitting into her proper place and role within her extended family. Her oneness with her family is the central element of her identity. She thinks of “self” not as me, but as us.
Why do East Asian students infuse learning with fervent emotional drive? Because acting for the benefit of one’s entire family is much more strongly motivating than acting for the benefit of one’s separated self. Within the family is where one’s most enduring relationships thrive. Family gives identity and significance to one’s life as well as positive emotions that one wants to protect and promote. “What’s in it for me?” is about a benefit for one. “What’s in it for us?” is about a benefit for those with whom one shares ancestors and aspirations, a benefit for one’s whole “self.”
Our distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation is useless in East Asia. When a student’s “self” is her entire extended family, the fact that the desire for high test scores originated with her elders doesn’t matter; it doesn’t make that desire extrinsic to the student. All extended family members are united in desiring and supporting each child’s attainment of high scores. For all family members – and the student is one of them – that desire is intrinsic.
Related stories
Stories 4.05 and 7.13 also describe scenes in East Asian classrooms that visitors from the United States.
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Endnotes:
24 Ma, 115.
25 A Chinese term that often is translated into English as “harmony” is suíhe, which also can be translated as “blending in” and “easygoing.”
26 Campbell & Li, 387–88.
Full citations are available at misalignedminds.info/References.