An argument against foreign students (revised)

 

Why Foreign Students Make for Very Bad Students

I realize the title sounds damning to foreign students especially those whose first

language is not English, but it should be equally damning of any institution willing to sell

its academic soul on the market place as many colleges and universities from North

America, Europe and Australia have done. Its really a combination of greed leading to

lower tolerances and therefore lower expectations and academic standards on the part

of the institutions involved and students who lack language skills and seek every

technical and other unethical method to beat the system to achieve easy marks.

Therefore on one hand greed for easy money and greed for easy marks proves to be a

bad combination especially for those domestic students who just want an affordable

quality education.

Recently, I was reading from the BBC an article about the government of Australia

restricting the number of foreign students it allows into its country, this news was similar

to news already out in Canada reporting that student quotas and restrictions will also

apply here. The problem government officials cited was not so much anything to do

with lower standards but made strong links to inflation, food costs and housing

shortages. In both Australia and Canada it was felt that through government

immigration policies, in regards to student visas, these issues could at least be partially

addressed.

From my own experience having worked in China as a school principal as well as in

three other Chinese schools in Canada I have a few thoughts about the quality of

students coming to Canada, the quality of education they receive and what they expect

to receive, some aspects of their motivation and why it is not always a good thing for

Canada.

I grew up for much of my life in a University City and foreign students were always a

part of the community or at least seen in the community. The universities were like a

city within a city with little merging of cultures. Having the universities did bring prestige,

honours and wealth to the city and needless to say an essential part of our society. As

such as the larger community, for many of us, we grew to see the elite of foreign

students and deemed them all to be exceptional students, geniuses in fact, often better

than our home grown talent. That at least was the stereotype that my generation grew

up with and to every stereotype I believe there is an element of truth to get it started.

However, later in life and after actually living in China I realized their population although

vastly larger than Canada’s was no different in ability. They certainly had many, many

hard working smart people. Given if you constructed a bell curve depicting IQ of the

population or of a cross section of it one would find in that sample genius and imbecile

in about equal numbers as in Canada and the rest of the world. The low end of that

spectrum do not come as foreign students to student abroad. We only get to see the

best of the best and form our opinions about their abilities based on the skewed sample

we are exposed to. We would have a different opinion if we saw the sample in its

entirety as when one in immersed in the culture.

Why do students come to Canada, Australia, New Zealand the UK even the United

States, or an education? Many stay in China after writing their university entrance exam

called the Gaokao, an exam written by some twenty million students annually. About 10

million of those go on to attend very good universities and colleges in China. The rest

have to scramble and rewrite the test the following year and again and again, give up

and enter the work force or go over seas. Many of the bright ones do come to attend the

top one hundred universities of the world most of which are found in the Western World.

After Covid it seems the quality of students coming from abroad has declined but the

demand for placement in Western universities and even private high schools is still quite

high. For some of these students who have failed the Gaokao there is great personal

and family shame as China for example is a shame based culture based on

Confucianism. In order to over come some facets of this shame a family can regain

face by sending their child to a western university. This gives them bragging rights at

home and solves a major problem. It could also lead to a promising future if that child is

successful, comes back with a degree and speaks fluent English. In the end using

Canada as an example we get some first tier students and then we get a range of

students with a very wide range of abilities and language skills upon arrival to the

country. Coming to Canada , or elsewhere, to safe face is hardly a valid reason for

pursuing foreign studies.

Although I do believe many students from various cultures come to Canada with

deference and respect for our country and culture I have also found that many of my

Chinese students come with a distinct feeling of cultural superiority. Maybe a humbling

experience for myself as it is an example perhaps of reverse racism and maybe after

generations of colonialism and opium wars we deserve such a post colonial “put down”.

However, I feel with this attitude it also impacts on their ability to learn and that to me as

a principal is still the point of the exercise.

When a student or a group of them come with pre-disposed attitude that what they know

and what they have been previously taught within their own educational system is

inherently better and of high academic rigour. With this attitude it is therefore an easy

stepping stone to critique, criticize and make demands on our curriculum, our system

our teachers and our way of conducting our academic business. It draws into question

academic integrity, credibility and the basis of our standards, procedures and many of

our policies.

In my school but I have witnessed this in five Chinese school I have been associated

with, still a small sample I know. Students bully the teachers, as a group, for marks.

They attack the marking methodology, the rubrics, the teachers” methodologies, the

curriculum, and even the need for English expression. The attacks start small, build a

life of their own and attack teachers on a personal and professional level. Often parents

and agents (representing the families) back the students, not the school or the teachers

until they either get their way, leave to find an easier school or succumb to the existing

policies of the school, often with lingering hard feelings. Often school owners give in to

students, parents and agents long before that back principals, or teachers as ultimately

it is not about fairness, or quality of education it is reduced to power tactics and

enrolment as it relates to income for the school. In short everyone suffers. The

students feel they can bump their mark a few percent and have scored a moral victory,

agents and parents can gloat about their power and the owners maintain cash flow.

teachers learn to fight less, lower standards and give students what they want.

This brings me to the culture of corruption. China is a culture of corruption. This is true

of government, business and education. I can cite examples of parent protests in china

based on the premise that students have been caught cheating causing public protest.

Parents feel justified in such a protest because given the universality of cheating and

bribes within the system why should their own children be singled out when everyone

else is getting away with the same crime.

Again when students come to this country these attitudes remain intact. Add to the

equation very weak English skills for many the temptation to cheat at every level, on

homework, tests, essays and exams is extremely high. I have caught many students

cheating and teachers have brought scores more to my office. Often they show no

remorse, admit to nothing and become sullen and angry. Over time some of them

mellow, confess and then apologize stating they are so sorry and will never ever do it

again and please don’t tell my parents. Likely I have already informed their parents and

frequently they reoffend within a week. Lie and cheat, but not all.

Plagiarism is a particularly sore point and related to a lazy work ethic, weak english

skills and the availability of technology. Now with AI at easy disposal the battle for

academic integrity is losing. Students who can barely put a simple sentence together

can now write like published authors , look you in the face and without hesitation tell

whoever cares to listen that they wrote whatever it is they are holding in their hand at

that moment. Sadly, I take too much personal joy in having students explain their work

to me. From what is the theme to define the vocabulary in paragraph three. Eventually

they confess and agree to a re-write, but this is a long tedious process.

We no longer get the best foreign students. Given that English skills have dropped as

have standards it seems the main motivation from the receiving side is that of profit. We

have allowed our institutions to become academic farms. I think as governments have

started we need to reduce foreign enrolments, raise standards and make more room for

domestic students within our own system

Everything Changes

Everything Changes

While sewing curtains 

on the diningroom table

grand daughter asked, 

“Are you any good at making curtains?”

Laughing you said, “Well I used to be”

Everything changes

We drove that day for yet

another medical appointment,

the Subaru had a flat tire,

you were thankful I was there,

said I should live to 94,

we needed each other 

we make a good team

we always have, 

agreed.

Everything Changes

next morning, too, my sister texted

“Yes, I do have cancer…

so I’ll wait for a surgeon to call.”

Everything Changes

An Argument Against Foreign Students

An Argument Against Foreign Students 

I realize that title sounds damning to foreign students especially those whose first language is not English, but it should be equally damning of any institution willing to sell its academic soul on the market place as many colleges and universities from North America, Europe and Australia have done.  Its really a combination of greed leading to lower tolerances and therefore lower expectations and academic standards on the part of the institutions involved and students who lack language skills and seek every technical and other unethical method to beat the system to achieve easy marks.  Therefore, on one hand greed for easy money and greed for easy marks proves to be a bad combination especially for those domestic students who just want an affordable quality education.

Recently, I was reading a BBC article about the government of Australia restricting the number of foreign students it allows into its country, this news was similar to news already out in Canada reporting that student quotas and restrictions will also apply here.  The problem government officials cited was not so much anything to do with lower standards, but made strong links to inflation, food costs and housing shortages.  In both Australia and Canada it was felt that through government immigration policies, in regards to student visas, these issues could at least be partially addressed.

From my own experience having worked in China as a school principal as well as in three other Chinese schools in Canada I have a few thoughts about the quality of students coming to Canada, the quaity of education they receive and what they expect to receive, some aspects of their motivation and why it is not always a good thing for Canada.  

I grew up for much of my life in a University City and foreign students were always a part of the community or at least seen in the community.  The universities were like a city within a city with little merging of cultures. Having the universities did bring prestige, honours and wealth to the city and needless to say an essential part of our society.  As such, as the larger community, for many of us, we grew to see the elite of foreign students and deemed them all to be exceptional students, geniuses in fact, often better than our home grown talent. That at least was the sterotype that my generation grew up with and to every stereotype I believe there is an element of truth to get it started.  

However, later in life and after actually living in China I realized their population, although vastly larger than Canada’s was no different in ability.  They certainly had many, many hard working smart people.  Given if you constructed a bell curve depicting IQ of the population or of a cross section of it one would find in that sample genius and imbecile in about equal numbers as in Canada and the rest of the world.  The low end of that spectrum do not come as foreign students to student abroad.  We only get to see the best of the best and form our opinions about their abilities based on the skewed sample we are exosed to.  We would have a different opinion if we saw the sample in its enterity as when one in immersed in the culture.

Why do students come to Canada, Australia, New Zealand the UK even the United States, or an education? Many stay in China after writing their university entrance exam called the Gaokao, an exam written by some twenty million students annually.  About 10 million of those go on to attend very good universites and colleges in China.  The rest have to scramble and rewrite the test the following year and agai and again, give up and enter the work force or go over seas. Many of the bright ones do come to attend the top one hundred universities of the world most of which are found in the Western World.  

After Covid it seems the quality of students coming from abroad has declined but the demand for placement in Western universities and even private high schools is still quite high.  For some of these students who have failed the Gaokao there is great personal and family shame as China for example is a shame based culture based on confusianism.  In order to over come some facets of this shame a family can regain face by sending their child to a western university.  Ths gives them bragging rights at home and solves a major problem.  It could also lead to a promising future if that child is successful, comes back with a degree and speaks fluent English.  In the end using Canada as an example we get some first tier students and then we get a range of students with a very wide range of abilities and language skills upon arrival to the country.

To be continued… scroll down…

Why Foreign Students Make for Very Bad Students

I realize the title sounds damning to foreign students especially those whose first

language is not English, but it should be equally damning of any institution willing to sell

its academic soul on the market place as many colleges and universities from North

America, Europe and Australia have done. Its really a combination of greed leading to

lower tolerances and therefore lower expectations and academic standards on the part

of the institutions involved and students who lack language skills and seek every

technical and other unethical method to beat the system to achieve easy marks.

Therefore on one hand greed for easy money and greed for easy marks proves to be a

bad combination especially for those domestic students who just want an affordable

quality education.

Recently, I was reading from the BBC an article about the government of Australia

restricting the number of foreign students it allows into its country, this news was similar

to news already out in Canada reporting that student quotas and restrictions will also

apply here. The problem government officials cited was not so much anything to do

with lower standards but made strong links to inflation, food costs and housing

shortages. In both Australia and Canada it was felt that through government

immigration policies, in regards to student visas, these issues could at least be partially

addressed.

From my own experience having worked in China as a school principal as well as in

three other Chinese schools in Canada I have a few thoughts about the quality of

students coming to Canada, the quality of education they receive and what they expect

to receive, some aspects of their motivation and why it is not always a good thing for

Canada.

I grew up for much of my life in a University City and foreign students were always a

part of the community or at least seen in the community. The universities were like a

city within a city with little merging of cultures. Having the universities did bring prestige,

honours and wealth to the city and needless to say an essential part of our society. As

such as the larger community, for many of us, we grew to see the elite of foreign

students and deemed them all to be exceptional students, geniuses in fact, often better

than our home grown talent. That at least was the stereotype that my generation grew

up with and to every stereotype I believe there is an element of truth to get it started.

However, later in life and after actually living in China I realized their population although

vastly larger than Canada’s was no different in ability. They certainly had many, many

hard working smart people. Given if you constructed a bell curve depicting IQ of the

population or of a cross section of it one would find in that sample genius and imbecile

in about equal numbers as in Canada and the rest of the world. The low end of that

spectrum do not come as foreign students to student abroad. We only get to see the

best of the best and form our opinions about their abilities based on the skewed sample

we are exposed to. We would have a different opinion if we saw the sample in its

entirety as when one in immersed in the culture.

Why do students come to Canada, Australia, New Zealand the UK even the United

States, or an education? Many stay in China after writing their university entrance exam

called the Gaokao, an exam written by some twenty million students annually. About 10

million of those go on to attend very good universities and colleges in China. The rest

have to scramble and rewrite the test the following year and again and again, give up

and enter the work force or go over seas. Many of the bright ones do come to attend the

top one hundred universities of the world most of which are found in the Western World.

After Covid it seems the quality of students coming from abroad has declined but the

demand for placement in Western universities and even private high schools is still quite

high. For some of these students who have failed the Gaokao there is great personal

and family shame as China for example is a shame based culture based on

Confucianism. In order to over come some facets of this shame a family can regain

face by sending their child to a western university. This gives them bragging rights at

home and solves a major problem. It could also lead to a promising future if that child is

successful, comes back with a degree and speaks fluent English. In the end using

Canada as an example we get some first tier students and then we get a range of

students with a very wide range of abilities and language skills upon arrival to the

country. Coming to Canada , or elsewhere, to safe face is hardly a valid reason for

pursuing foreign studies.

Although I do believe many students from various cultures come to Canada with

deference and respect for our country and culture I have also found that many of my

Chinese students come with a distinct feeling of cultural superiority. Maybe a humbling

experience for myself as it is an example perhaps of reverse racism and maybe after

generations of colonialism and opium wars we deserve such a post colonial “put down”.

However, I feel with this attitude it also impacts on their ability to learn and that to me as

a principal is still the point of the exercise.

When a student or a group of them come with pre-disposed attitude that what they know

and what they have been previously taught within their own educational system is

inherently better and of high academic rigour. With this attitude it is therefore an easy

stepping stone to critique, criticize and make demands on our curriculum, our system

our teachers and our way of conducting our academic business. It draws into question

academic integrity, credibility and the basis of our standards, procedures and many of

our policies.

In my school but I have witnessed this in five Chinese school I have been associated

with, still a small sample I know. Students bully the teachers, as a group, for marks.

They attack the marking methodology, the rubrics, the teachers” methodologies, the

curriculum, and even the need for English expression. The attacks start small, build a

life of their own and attack teachers on a personal and professional level. Often parents

and agents (representing the families) back the students, not the school or the teachers

until they either get their way, leave to find an easier school or succumb to the existing

policies of the school, often with lingering hard feelings. Often school owners give in to

students, parents and agents long before that back principals, or teachers as ultimately

it is not about fairness, or quality of education it is reduced to power tactics and

enrolment as it relates to income for the school. In short everyone suffers. The

students feel they can bump their mark a few percent and have scored a moral victory,

agents and parents can gloat about their power and the owners maintain cash flow.

teachers learn to fight less, lower standards and give students what they want.

This brings me to the culture of corruption. China is a culture of corruption. This is true

of government, business and education. I can cite examples of parent protests in china

based on the premise that students have been caught cheating causing public protest.

Parents feel justified in such a protest because given the universality of cheating and

bribes within the system why should their own children be singled out when everyone

else is getting away with the same crime.

Again when students come to this country these attitudes remain intact. Add to the

equation very weak English skills for many the temptation to cheat at every level, on

homework, tests, essays and exams is extremely high. I have caught many students

cheating and teachers have brought scores more to my office. Often they show no

remorse, admit to nothing and become sullen and angry. Over time some of them

mellow, confess and then apologize stating they are so sorry and will never ever do it

again and please don’t tell my parents. Likely I have already informed their parents and

frequently they reoffend within a week. Lie and cheat, but not all.

Plagiarism is a particularly sore point and related to a lazy work ethic, weak english

skills and the availability of technology. Now with AI at easy disposal the battle for

academic integrity is losing. Students who can barely put a simple sentence together

can now write like published authors , look you in the face and without hesitation tell

whoever cares to listen that they wrote whatever it is they are holding in their hand at

that moment. Sadly, I take too much personal joy in having students explain their work

to me. From what is the theme to define the vocabulary in paragraph three. Eventually

they confess and agree to a re-write, but this is a long tedious process.

We no longer get the best foreign students. Given that English skills have dropped as

have standards it seems the main motivation from the receiving side is that of profit. We

have allowed our institutions to become academic farms. I think as governments have

started we need to reduce foreign enrolments, raise standards and make more room for

domestic students within our own syste

Two Young Boys…a walk to school

Two Young Boys…

 

A Walk to School

 

Two young boys, brothers I think, made their lingering journey to school each morning passing under my view and scrutiny as a sit on my balcony on my eighth floor perch.  They are not determined  travellers as much as curious explorers.  They observe and they are tactile, touching what they can, whatever surrounds them as they walk.  They pass an old retaining wall. They poke and prod their little fingers into small cracks and crevices and remove small pieces of mortar that they subsequently toss to the sidewalk and half heartedly kick along as if in a pretend game of soccer.  

 

I watch all of this with amusement, in the fine weather, as I drinkmy dark coffee.  I wonder if they will ever reach their destination, their school, just a little way up the hill on their right, as they move so slowly, and peacefully, seemly content in each others company. How will their day unfold I often ponder as their destination was my own some 60 years ago when I attended the very same school.

 

I walked the identical route on that very same sidewalk and likely poked some of those same crevices in the field stone retaining wall  that remarkably still stands straight and true after so many decades.  My route to school was not all residential as it is today most of that sprawling urbanization below my balcony was once farmland and forest, at least it was in my day.  As I left my family century farm house, where my family rented from a retired farmer who lived further up the road. My journey to school first took me past barns and utility sheds and then a pasture of grazing Holstein cattle.  On those same spots today a Canadian Tire store now stands, the barn, sheds and house all torn down.  I place the approximate location of my bedroom where the paint department is now located.

 

My walk passed the pastures, took me into thick forested areas where some days after school my friend and I would carelessly hunt for squirrels, not giving and rational thought as to where our 22 caliber bullets would land after we aimed straight up a tall Maple tree to take our shot.  It was clearly a time of freedom with no consequences.

 

At one point during my journey to school I had to cross a stream where today the City has constructed a bridge to an extensive trail system, some of the trails over lapped the same I had pioneered. Going one way after the crossing I would reach my friend’s house, while going the other I would link to a trail connecting me to my school.  It was a serene and solitary yet enjoyable walk when left to my adolescent thoughts and my vivid world of imagination on the forest trails, superior to any trip on a noisy crowded school bus.

 

Upon leaving the woods and entering civilization, my condo had not been built yet, in fact I don’t think condos were even a thingyet. My trail converged with the sidewalk where the two young boys walk today.  We then linked our routes and walked in my footsteps the rest of the way to the break in the fence allowing a short cut through the school yard.  Likely the similarity may end there in the yard as I imagine my typical school day in 1964 to be radically different from what these two boys experience in 2024.

 

I wasn’t a particularly apt student in grade 8, but I have to say it was a transformative year for me.  My homeroom teacher, Mr. Stockie, had a formidable presence in the classroom and in my life.  He always dressed in a dark suit and tie.  He was a man in black. He looked the part of an undertaker not a teacher.  As students we sat in perfectly straight rows, our books and supplies stacked and aligned neatly in a cage like shelf beneath our desks, our hands politely folded, sitting proud and tall as our teacher entered the room.  There was no comment, cough or whisper nor was there humour, or talking out, there was absolute stunning discipline, teaching and learning.  I think that year, with the super structure, I started to turn the academic corner and began the route to becoming a worthy student.  To this day I’m still not certain if it was my absolute fear, or respect for Mr Stockie that was the initial catalyst, but I do know something in that classroom resonated and clicked in my life and provided the motivation forward.

 

Social Studies class is where my love for History and Geography initially took root.  I was inspired by my teacher Mr Eyler, who happened to be an Ontario weight lifting champion.  He was short, and obviously well built.  My Eyler, despite his best efforts, due to his muscularity, could not put his arms down by his sides.  It was not his strength that so inspired me, it was his kindness, knowledge and understanding that drew me to study with earnest and take real interest in his subjects.  

 

He also kept snakes and reptiles in his classroom.  It was through Mr Eyler that I launched my lucrative side business at home of raising hamsters and white mice, in large quantities to feed his boas and other classroom pets, so as it turned out he got me started in my cottage business line.  My mother however was never quite pleased with the rows of cages I had built and installed in a back shed, but she never discouraged me either.

 

School was a pivotal place in my life, at that time.  It was where I met some life-long friends, joined school clubs and teams while getting on track with my academics.  Now I watch these meandering boys from my retirement condo over-looking my former public school and I wonder with all the changes and challenges how is their school day?  Are kids still inspired as I was with excellent teachers, or is that just another out dated corny concept?  Are there so many daily distractions with technology with such things as screens, streaming, texting and gaming?  Are attention spans shorter and the capacity for discipline diminished?  What are their numeracy and literacy skills like?  Do they even study Home Economics or Industrial arts?  Could they even build a hamster cage if they had to or make their own lunch?

 

I certainly would like to think, as these two boys I regularly observe, who linger and kick stones across the pavement, that they are in store for an excellent day of education and that their day will at least be something like those that I had enjoyed.

 

Two Young Boys…

 

A Walk to School

 

Two young boys, brothers I think, made their lingering journey to school each morning passing under my view and scrutiny as a sit on my balcony on my eighth floor perch.  They are not determined  travellers as much as curious explorers.  They observe and they are tactile, touching what they can, whatever surrounds them as they walk.  They pass an old retaining wall. They poke and prod their little fingers into small cracks and crevices and remove small pieces of mortar that they subsequently toss to the sidewalk and half heartedly kick along as if in a pretend game of soccer.  

 

I watch all of this with amusement, in the fine weather, as I drinkmy dark coffee.  I wonder if they will ever reach their destination, their school, just a little way up the hill on their right, as they move so slowly, and peacefully, seemly content in each others company. How will their day unfold I often ponder as their destination was my own some 60 years ago when I attended the very same school.

 

I walked the identical route on that very same sidewalk and likely poked some of those same crevices in the field stone retaining wall  that remarkably still stands straight and true after so many decades.  My route to school was not all residential as it is today most of that sprawling urbanization below my balcony was once farmland and forest, at least it was in my day.  As I left my family century farm house, where my family rented from a retired farmer who lived further up the road. My journey to school first took me past barns and utility sheds and then a pasture of grazing Holstein cattle.  On those same spots today a Canadian Tire store now stands, the barn, sheds and house all torn down.  I place the approximate location of my bedroom where the paint department is now located.

 

My walk passed the pastures, took me into thick forested areas where some days after school my friend and I would carelessly hunt for squirrels, not giving and rational thought as to where our 22 caliber bullets would land after we aimed straight up a tall Maple tree to take our shot.  It was clearly a time of freedom with no consequences.

 

At one point during my journey to school I had to cross a stream where today the City has constructed a bridge to an extensive trail system, some of the trails over lapped the same I had pioneered. Going one way after the crossing I would reach my friend’s house, while going the other I would link to a trail connecting me to my school.  It was a serene and solitary yet enjoyable walk when left to my adolescent thoughts and my vivid world of imagination on the forest trails, superior to any trip on a noisy crowded school bus.

 

Upon leaving the woods and entering civilization, my condo had not been built yet, in fact I don’t think condos were even a thingyet. My trail converged with the sidewalk where the two young boys walk today.  We then linked our routes and walked in my footsteps the rest of the way to the break in the fence allowing a short cut through the school yard.  Likely the similarity may end there in the yard as I imagine my typical school day in 1964 to be radically different from what these two boys experience in 2024.

 

I wasn’t a particularly apt student in grade 8, but I have to say it was a transformative year for me.  My homeroom teacher, Mr. Stockie, had a formidable presence in the classroom and in my life.  He always dressed in a dark suit and tie.  He was a man in black. He looked the part of an undertaker not a teacher.  As students we sat in perfectly straight rows, our books and supplies stacked and aligned neatly in a cage like shelf beneath our desks, our hands politely folded, sitting proud and tall as our teacher entered the room.  There was no comment, cough or whisper nor was there humour, or talking out, there was absolute stunning discipline, teaching and learning.  I think that year, with the super structure, I started to turn the academic corner and began the route to becoming a worthy student.  To this day I’m still not certain if it was my absolute fear, or respect for Mr Stockie that was the initial catalyst, but I do know something in that classroom resonated and clicked in my life and provided the motivation forward.

 

Social Studies class is where my love for History and Geography initially took root.  I was inspired by my teacher Mr Eyler, who happened to be an Ontario weight lifting champion.  He was short, and obviously well built.  My Eyler, despite his best efforts, due to his muscularity, could not put his arms down by his sides.  It was not his strength that so inspired me, it was his kindness, knowledge and understanding that drew me to study with earnest and take real interest in his subjects.  

 

He also kept snakes and reptiles in his classroom.  It was through Mr Eyler that I launched my lucrative side business at home of raising hamsters and white mice, in large quantities to feed his boas and other classroom pets, so as it turned out he got me started in my cottage business line.  My mother however was never quite pleased with the rows of cages I had built and installed in a back shed, but she never discouraged me either.

 

School was a pivotal place in my life, at that time.  It was where I met some life-long friends, joined school clubs and teams while getting on track with my academics.  Now I watch these meandering boys from my retirement condo over-looking my former public school and I wonder with all the changes and challenges how is their school day?  Are kids still inspired as I was with excellent teachers, or is that just another out dated corny concept?  Are there so many daily distractions with technology with such things as screens, streaming, texting and gaming?  Are attention spans shorter and the capacity for discipline diminished?  What are their numeracy and literacy skills like?  Do they even study Home Economics or Industrial arts?  Could they even build a hamster cage if they had to or make their own lunch?

 

I certainly would like to think, as these two boys I regularly observe, who linger and kick stones across the pavement, that they are in store for an excellent day of education and that their day will at least be something like those that I had enjoyed.

  

 Two Young Boys…

 

A Walk to School

 

Two young boys, brothers I think, made their lingering journey to school each morning passing under my view and scrutiny as a sit on my balcony on my eighth floor perch.  They are not determined  travellers as much as curious explorers.  They observe and they are tactile, touching what they can, whatever surrounds them as they walk.  They pass an old retaining wall. They poke and prod their little fingers into small cracks and crevices and remove small pieces of mortar that they subsequently toss to the sidewalk and half heartedly kick along as if in a pretend game of soccer.  

 

I watch all of this with amusement, in the fine weather, as I drinkmy dark coffee.  I wonder if they will ever reach their destination, their school, just a little way up the hill on their right, as they move so slowly, and peacefully, seemly content in each others company. How will their day unfold I often ponder as their destination was my own some 60 years ago when I attended the very same school.

 

I walked the identical route on that very same sidewalk and likely poked some of those same crevices in the field stone retaining wall  that remarkably still stands straight and true after so many decades.  My route to school was not all residential as it is today most of that sprawling urbanization below my balcony was once farmland and forest, at least it was in my day.  As I left my family century farm house, where my family rented from a retired farmer who lived further up the road. My journey to school first took me past barns and utility sheds and then a pasture of grazing Holstein cattle.  On those same spots today a Canadian Tire store now stands, the barn, sheds and house all torn down.  I place the approximate location of my bedroom where the paint department is now located.

 

My walk passed the pastures, took me into thick forested areas where some days after school my friend and I would carelessly hunt for squirrels, not giving and rational thought as to where our 22 caliber bullets would land after we aimed straight up a tall Maple tree to take our shot.  It was clearly a time of freedom with no consequences.

 

At one point during my journey to school I had to cross a stream where today the City has constructed a bridge to an extensive trail system, some of the trails over lapped the same I had pioneered. Going one way after the crossing I would reach my friend’s house, while going the other I would link to a trail connecting me to my school.  It was a serene and solitary yet enjoyable walk when left to my adolescent thoughts and my vivid world of imagination on the forest trails, superior to any trip on a noisy crowded school bus.

 

Upon leaving the woods and entering civilization, my condo had not been built yet, in fact I don’t think condos were even a thingyet. My trail converged with the sidewalk where the two young boys walk today.  We then linked our routes and walked in my footsteps the rest of the way to the break in the fence allowing a short cut through the school yard.  Likely the similarity may end there in the yard as I imagine my typical school day in 1964 to be radically different from what these two boys experience in 2024.

 

I wasn’t a particularly apt student in grade 8, but I have to say it was a transformative year for me.  My homeroom teacher, Mr. Stockie, had a formidable presence in the classroom and in my life.  He always dressed in a dark suit and tie.  He was a man in black. He looked the part of an undertaker not a teacher.  As students we sat in perfectly straight rows, our books and supplies stacked and aligned neatly in a cage like shelf beneath our desks, our hands politely folded, sitting proud and tall as our teacher entered the room.  There was no comment, cough or whisper nor was there humour, or talking out, there was absolute stunning discipline, teaching and learning.  I think that year, with the super structure, I started to turn the academic corner and began the route to becoming a worthy student.  To this day I’m still not certain if it was my absolute fear, or respect for Mr Stockie that was the initial catalyst, but I do know something in that classroom resonated and clicked in my life and provided the motivation forward.

 

Social Studies class is where my love for History and Geography initially took root.  I was inspired by my teacher Mr Eyler, who happened to be an Ontario weight lifting champion.  He was short, and obviously well built.  My Eyler, despite his best efforts, due to his muscularity, could not put his arms down by his sides.  It was not his strength that so inspired me, it was his kindness, knowledge and understanding that drew me to study with earnest and take real interest in his subjects.  

 

He also kept snakes and reptiles in his classroom.  It was through Mr Eyler that I launched my lucrative side business at home of raising hamsters and white mice, in large quantities to feed his boas and other classroom pets, so as it turned out he got me started in my cottage business line.  My mother however was never quite pleased with the rows of cages I had built and installed in a back shed, but she never discouraged me either.

 

School was a pivotal place in my life, at that time.  It was where I met some life-long friends, joined school clubs and teams while getting on track with my academics.  Now I watch these meandering boys from my retirement condo over-looking my former public school and I wonder with all the changes and challenges how is their school day?  Are kids still inspired as I was with excellent teachers, or is that just another out dated corny concept?  Are there so many daily distractions with technology with such things as screens, streaming, texting and gaming?  Are attention spans shorter and the capacity for discipline diminished?  What are their numeracy and literacy skills like?  Do they even study Home Economics or Industrial arts?  Could they even build a hamster cage if they had to or make their own lunch?

 

I certainly would like to think, as these two boys I regularly observe, who linger and kick stones across the pavement, that they are in store for an excellent day of education and that their day will at least be something like those that I had enjoyed.