‘Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having minds, but not perceiving truth; having hearts that are never moved and therefore never set on fire. These are the things to fear, said the headmaster.’
How would you like to have such a headmaster?
I finally re-read (read it first as a teenager) Totto-chan, The Little Girl at the Window, a ‘school story’ by Tetsuko Kuroyanagi, translated by Dorothy Britton. Totto-chan is the name Tesuko Kuroyanagi called herself, and the book is about her life during her school days at Tomoe Gakuen.
Totto-chan was expelled from her first elementary school because of her ‘disruptive’ behaviour, which included constantly opening and closing her desk top (because she was so thrilled by it), ‘vandalising’ her desk (because there wasn’t enough space on the piece of paper to draw) and standing by the classroom window waiting for street musicians to pass by or talking to swallows.
Her mother, although probably alarmed about the expulsion, wisely never told her the truth till she was much older. She simply asked Totto-chan if she would like to attend a new school. Totto-chan loved it at first sight because the classrooms were 6 unused train carriages, and the gateposts were growing trees!
It was in this small school that Totto-chan had the kind of education the rest of us can only dream about. Here are some of the school’s enlightened ‘teaching methods’:
Each child could decide on the order in which he/she wanted to complete the day’s work. This gave the children responsibility for their learning and also trained them to concentrate on what they were doing even if others were doing something else. If the class finished all their work early, their teacher would take them out for walks. And we all know the wonders that one can learn on just a short walk outside school.
The learning was truly hands-on and child-centred. For example, the headmaster took the children to a nearby farm to plant seeds together with the farmer. The farmer became their teacher and the farm their living text book. A child was assigned to walk by the farm each day and update the rest on how the crops were doing.
They headmaster personally conducted Eurythmics (spelt this way in the book) classes. Eurythmics is a method of music education that originated in Switzerland. I myself had the privilege of going through this in my kindergarten year, before I started formal music lessons. In a nutshell, it teaches things like rhythm and tempo through movement and activity, and it is certainly useful in teaching the fundamentals of music. It’s like you experience the music. It was in line with the headmaster’s belief that the body and mind should be ‘equally developed and in perfect harmony’. I am not sure how, though, it comes into Annie Lennox’s Eurythmics.
To teach them to eat balanced meals, the headmaster said their lunch boxes should have ‘something from the ocean and something from the hills’ (i.e. sea as well as ‘land’ food).
Each child had a turn to give a little ‘speech’ during lunch (which was actually contrary to the common practice of teaching children to eat their meals quietly) and through this they developed confidence and also learnt more about each other.
Tomoe Gakuen practised ‘inclusive’ education, taking in children who couldn’t fit with mainstream expectations, such as Totto-chan herself, and also children with disabilities, and integrating them with the others.
The headmaster himself was quite a character.
Once, Totto-chan and her friend stumbled upon him reprimanding a teacher for unwittingly embarrassing one of the children with disabilities. And you know what? He did it in the privacy of the kitchen (he lived in the school), Totto-chan noted, ‘not in the faculty room, where the other teachers were’. Not only did he love the children, he was also understanding towards his staff.
Most important for Totto-chan herself, every time the headmaster saw her, he would say ‘You’re really a good girl, you know (emphasising really).’ She acknowledged that this went a long way in building up her self-belief.
Really, I think this book is a must-read for adults. It’s about believing in and accepting each child as he or she is, and about helping children learn in ways that are most suited to them.
Would such ideas be too difficult to implement here in Singapore, what with the pressure to produce good results, ‘finish the syllabus’, big(ger) class size, etc?
But wouldn’t we love our children to be educated in this way?
Do you recognise any child you know in Totto-chan? My son, for sure, might well be categorised as Totto-chan-like – can’t sit still, has his own way of doing things (and actually dares to verbalise it), distracts himself and others, and actually has his seat by the window now!
How would you like to have such a headmaster?
I finally re-read (read it first as a teenager) Totto-chan, The Little Girl at the Window, a ‘school story’ by Tetsuko Kuroyanagi, translated by Dorothy Britton. Totto-chan is the name Tesuko Kuroyanagi called herself, and the book is about her life during her school days at Tomoe Gakuen.
Totto-chan was expelled from her first elementary school because of her ‘disruptive’ behaviour, which included constantly opening and closing her desk top (because she was so thrilled by it), ‘vandalising’ her desk (because there wasn’t enough space on the piece of paper to draw) and standing by the classroom window waiting for street musicians to pass by or talking to swallows.
Her mother, although probably alarmed about the expulsion, wisely never told her the truth till she was much older. She simply asked Totto-chan if she would like to attend a new school. Totto-chan loved it at first sight because the classrooms were 6 unused train carriages, and the gateposts were growing trees!
It was in this small school that Totto-chan had the kind of education the rest of us can only dream about. Here are some of the school’s enlightened ‘teaching methods’:
Each child could decide on the order in which he/she wanted to complete the day’s work. This gave the children responsibility for their learning and also trained them to concentrate on what they were doing even if others were doing something else. If the class finished all their work early, their teacher would take them out for walks. And we all know the wonders that one can learn on just a short walk outside school.
The learning was truly hands-on and child-centred. For example, the headmaster took the children to a nearby farm to plant seeds together with the farmer. The farmer became their teacher and the farm their living text book. A child was assigned to walk by the farm each day and update the rest on how the crops were doing.
They headmaster personally conducted Eurythmics (spelt this way in the book) classes. Eurythmics is a method of music education that originated in Switzerland. I myself had the privilege of going through this in my kindergarten year, before I started formal music lessons. In a nutshell, it teaches things like rhythm and tempo through movement and activity, and it is certainly useful in teaching the fundamentals of music. It’s like you experience the music. It was in line with the headmaster’s belief that the body and mind should be ‘equally developed and in perfect harmony’. I am not sure how, though, it comes into Annie Lennox’s Eurythmics.
To teach them to eat balanced meals, the headmaster said their lunch boxes should have ‘something from the ocean and something from the hills’ (i.e. sea as well as ‘land’ food).
Each child had a turn to give a little ‘speech’ during lunch (which was actually contrary to the common practice of teaching children to eat their meals quietly) and through this they developed confidence and also learnt more about each other.
Tomoe Gakuen practised ‘inclusive’ education, taking in children who couldn’t fit with mainstream expectations, such as Totto-chan herself, and also children with disabilities, and integrating them with the others.
The headmaster himself was quite a character.
Once, Totto-chan and her friend stumbled upon him reprimanding a teacher for unwittingly embarrassing one of the children with disabilities. And you know what? He did it in the privacy of the kitchen (he lived in the school), Totto-chan noted, ‘not in the faculty room, where the other teachers were’. Not only did he love the children, he was also understanding towards his staff.
Most important for Totto-chan herself, every time the headmaster saw her, he would say ‘You’re really a good girl, you know (emphasising really).’ She acknowledged that this went a long way in building up her self-belief.
Really, I think this book is a must-read for adults. It’s about believing in and accepting each child as he or she is, and about helping children learn in ways that are most suited to them.
Would such ideas be too difficult to implement here in Singapore, what with the pressure to produce good results, ‘finish the syllabus’, big(ger) class size, etc?
But wouldn’t we love our children to be educated in this way?
Do you recognise any child you know in Totto-chan? My son, for sure, might well be categorised as Totto-chan-like – can’t sit still, has his own way of doing things (and actually dares to verbalise it), distracts himself and others, and actually has his seat by the window now!
Comments
I hope you don't mind. If you do mind, please let me know, I will remove the links.
Thank you!
And oh yes, your blog is very well-written! :)