In
old days, Chinese children in school began
with reciting some verses that promote the
importance of academic study, such as Three
Characters and Boy Genius.
In
the opening lines of the Three Characters,
it reads:
人之初, 性本善.
性相近,
习相远.
... ...
养不教,
父之过.
教不严, 师之惰.
Origin
of people, innocent by nature.
We born similar, we grow different.
... ...
Not to educate, fault of father;
Not to progress, failure of teacher.
In
the opening lines of the Boy Genius",
it reads:
天子重英豪,文章教尔曹。
万般皆下品,唯有读书高。
Son
of Heaven rewards men of learnt,
Those who study classics by
heart.
No life deserves to be praised,
Only scholars are noble cut.

Kids
in traditional Chinese dress reading Three
Characters at a family-run school in
Wuhan
Entering
21st century, China no longer has
a Son of Heaven, but the scholars remain. And
the Chinese society has polarised, but the
perceptions that the academic excellence is
the only measurement of a noble success stay.
Chinese
children today are under constant pressure to
high-level academic performance right from
the pre-school years. The general assumption
is that only when youngsters get a good start
in kindergarten, they’ll be able to enter a
"key primary school" (重点小学);
only when they receive their education at a
key primary, they’ll have a chance to enter
a "key high school" (重点中学); only when they
study at a key high, they’ll have hope to
gain admission to a "key
university" (重点大学); and only as
graduates of a key university, their career
future along with social status and financial
security will be guaranteed.
Picture
how hard for someone who has to maintain his
or her peak performance and engage in
constant battles for a top spot for twenty
years. And when this very someone is only a
child, imagine …
The current
Chinese job market
actually doesn’t agree with the popular
assumption. Like what happens in the West, it
is sound working experiences rather than
impressive degrees giving youngsters an edge
in job hunting. In short, a degree from a top
university is no longer a guaranteed route to
top earnings.
For
easing the unbearable pressures on children,
Chinese authority lately has halted the
practice of raking schools, and now students
can only attend a school in their
neighbourhood.
But
none of these deters the determination of the
Chinese
parents to do everything they
can to get their children into a school of
their desire. Can’t go to a school in
another neighbourhood? Then we move our home
into that neighbourhood - only virtually of
course, not actually. In Wurumuqi, Xinjiang,
according to reports by local media, 180,000
families (one in every 15 families in the
city) have obtained a home address away from
their actual residence to be near a school
previously marked with "key". In
another extreme case, a teacher of an old
"key" school found more than ten
new students in his class share a same
address, and what’s truly amazing is that
the address belongs to a public toilet.
It
seems unless the general population changes
its perception regarding success and
fulfilment of life, Chinese children will
continuously be slaves to endless tests and
exams, because that’s the only way to get
them staying in competition. If they fall
behind, then it would be seen as the fault of
their parents and the failure of their
teachers.
In a
small way, the appearance of family-run
schools that concentrate on classic learning
but pay little attention to standard tests
and exams is, among many other things, a
reaction against this social trend. But how
far can they go?
"No
life deserves to be praised, only scholars
are noble cut," remember?

Ladies
in traditional Chinese dress practicing
ink painting at a family-run school in
Suzhou
天子重英豪,文章教尔曹;
万般皆下品,惟有读书高。
少小须勤学,文章可立身;
满朝朱紫贵,尽是读书人。
学问勤中得,萤窗万卷书;
三冬今足用,谁笑腹空虚。
朝为田舍郎,暮登天子堂;
将相本无种,男儿当自强。