"None of us ever graduates"
This, I’ll admit, feels slightly ominous as I make my way
from the train station up to campus, but am un-deterred reasoning that the ‘us’
the graffiti is referring to, is the ‘us’ that was down in this piss-smelling
subway with a spray can rather that studying for that degree, so really, its
not much of a surprise that none of this ‘us’ has ever graduated.
"Id like to thank google, wikipedia and copy and paste"
This one is sprayed on the opposite wall next to a fake
Banksy of someone juggling bananas but still, I am refusing to judge my place
of post graduate study on the local graffiti. The artists are quite simply,
misinformed; they've obviously never heard of ‘TURNITIN’- the computer
program the large majority of universities now use as part of their essay
submission process that goes through your essay with a fine electronic tooth-comb highlighting your percentage of possible plagiarism. I would have
thought generally, professors and teachers would be up for this sort of thing,
but one evening later that week down the pub with staff and Phd students from
my department, I discover that perhaps this is not the case.
“I don’t mind if my students plagerise.”
“You don’t?”
“No, if they get that piece of paper saying they’ve got a
degree, how much does it matter how
they got it?”
Err, ALOT, I want to answer categorically, but
interestingly it was a professor I was having this exchange with, and since
everyone was drinking ale in large quantities I paused momentarily, wondering
if it was a trick question. I like this professor, in fact it just so happens
that this is the exact same fellow who pronounced at the beginning of class
that day;
“Due
to circumstances that are utterly out of my control, last night I had to get
completely, resolutely and decisively drunk. So, if I get a little shaky,
sweating, or even pass out- don’t worry.”
I
did worry. Specifically since I had made the error of sitting in the front row
of the lecture theater if such an instance of shaking or passing out occurred,
it was going to be down to me to do
something about it, and though there is a card in my purse saying I am a
qualified first aider, I’m not all that confident when it comes to hungover
philosophy professors. Also, it’s worth
noting that this particular lecture was an undergraduate module I was sitting
in on, therefore I was the oldest in the room (apart from the hungover
professor), a fact I imagined would count for something in an emergency
situation.
Thankfully it was
an ironic comment that evening in the pub so I did well to pause, but it led to
the question of how you do interpret
a piece of paper that says you have a degree? In an economically driven culture, where things are measured in terms of
the monetary gain you can squeeze out of things, education, at whatever level, is
consequently measured by the pay check you earn post-school/college/university.
The lower the paycheck and the bigger the debt, the less value that education
had for you. And this is a prevailing path of questioning as university fees
rise; What is that degree worth- we
ask with our calculators in our hands. What desk does a liberal arts degree
belong at? Does a law degree have any value if you don’t actually become a
lawyer?
If we are teaching each generation that passes through
our current schooling system that learning is only as useful as the wage you
earn out of it, it paints a pretty grim picture of the culture being shaped
with each passing year group. Is this the aim- young minds trained to pass exam
papers, to only be good at things that can pay their monthly gym membership, car
finance and the mother of all achievements; a house deposit?
Is it conceivable that it’s the term ‘education’ that is
being misunderstood? Education I want to argue, is not a piece of paper with numbers and letters on, government
monitored, job center approved- because no one can monitor your true education; the act of opening your
mind past what’s going on in front of your nose and letting other substances in.
Learning should have no agenda, no
feeling of being owed something back for the time spent with a book or an
interesting documentary, a trip to an amazing new place. Education is waking yourself
up for no other reason but that you want
to be awake. Why would you not
want to fulfill your capacity? Your capacity to be a well rounded and fulfilled
individual, a compassionate person capable of understanding the world from more
than just one solitary point of view? But with the tools our culture gives us
to measure success and happiness, we often have no idea how to take on such a
task.
Is it not odd to ask a 15 year old choosing GCSEs “What
do you want to be?” Most adults have no answer to such a question,
in fact I would go as far as to argue it’s the dumbest question you can ever
ask a person. Don’t we mind that we are teaching young people that they are
only as worthy as the credit rating they have- that Experian are the ones that
can tell you how well your doing in life? In trying to think back to GCSE’s, A
levels or even university applications, is the standard line of questioning
“What do you love doing? What would you love to do more of?” Or is it “what job
will this help you get?” “What job do you want to do?” Since the latter is a
question that the majority of us struggle to have a clear cut, box-fit answer
to, we set ourselves up for anxiety in 6th form classrooms, in
university lecture theaters at the desks of that first job we’ve taken ‘while we
work out what we really want to do.”
There was a girl at my secondary school- fantastic at
sports and simply astounding when it came to drama and acting. Everybody knew,
teachers and pupils alike that this kid was something special but she felt that
as her talents were not counted as traditionally academic, they were not as
valuable because everybody knows that few actually ‘make it’ as an actor/ sportsman, it’s not an acceptable answer
when the careers officer comes round the classroom.
Because this girl was dedicated
and hardworking by nature, she pushed herself very hard and achieved fantastic
grades in other subjects, went on to do an incredibly academic subject at
university, is a very successful individual and as far as I know, perfectly
happy. But it wasn’t without sacrifice, and I have never forgotten that girl
from those school days because I always felt that somewhere along the way, our
culture’s way of measuring achievement, talents and happiness robbed her of
something, told her that what she loved doing was not good enough to go out
into the world with.
Connor, my house mate, is interesting example of our
flawed education system. He is young and very bright, but didn't fit into
suitable government targets or desks for long hours as many young boys don’t.
With a system that doesn't cater for learning unless it can be regurgitated in
an exam paper, he very easily slipped through the net at school and now works
at a local supermarket in between having philosophical debates with me and
smoking weed.
“If
you could do anything,” I ask him, “anything,
what would you do?”
“Have
sex.”
“Right,
well I’m not sure that’s an option here.”
“Well
you didn’t specify. That’s a dumb question because obviously if I could do anything I’d have sex and eat food.”
I
try a different angle. “What did you like back at school?”
“Maths,
I was good at maths- was a bit of an accident though.”
“You
were accidentally good at maths?”
“Yeah.
I heard there was free food at the maths revision classes on Saturday, three
hours long they were those sessions, but all the chicken wings you could eat. Never
turn down free food.” He says to me seriously before turning back to the play
station. “Got an A for maths I did. Liked DT too; once I tried to pierce my
mate Warren’s ear with a nail we were supposed to be using to build bird boxes.
Wouldn’t go through, got a well thick ear Warren has, had to jam it til it went
POP.
I
picture the school workshop splattered with blood and a student with a large
hole in his ear lobe.
“Why
didn’t he get it done properly in a shop??”
“Because
Warren’s a tramp and eight pounds was a lot of money back then.”
“What
about English?”
“Well
Shakespeare is shit, obviously.”
I
say nothing, remembering my friend’s interesting take on why he liked the
English language the week before-
“I
like saying the word country.”
“Any
particular reason, or you just feeling patriotic today?”
“No,
it’s because you can say the word CUNT really loudly and then add the word tree
on the end and you won’t get into trouble. CUNT-tree. Country. See?
Ironically he and his buddy Shakespeare have more in
common that he thinks when it comes to puns, but I don’t push my luck pointing
it out;
Hamlet:
Lady, shall I lye in your lap?
Ophelia:
No my Lord.
Hamlet:
I meane my head upon your lap?
Ophelia:
Ay, my lord.
Hamlet:
Do you thinke I meant country matters?
Ophelia:
I think nothing my Lord.
Hamlet:
That’s a faire thought to lie between maid’s legs.
These examples aren’t to suggest that all our current
schooling system is lacking is copious amounts of free fried food and dirty
word puns, but if education, fails to inspire, chokes individuality and
growth- is more red tape what such a system needs? Does learning have to be
linear? Who said it even has to take place in a classroom??
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