“Our class was full of human knowledge. We had a teacher who
believed in us; he didn’t hide our power, he advertised it”. ̶ Jasso & Jasso, 1995, p. 255
I have one question for you: if you were to build a house, would you start from the roof?
And if you were to embark in such a project and only relied on a couple of apparently solid posts, what are the chances that your work would stand firm or that you would be able to build further upon it?
Allow me to ask you another question: what are the odds that people dreaming of a better future will eventually have to deny being themselves in order to become somebody else?
These may sound like unreasonable or eccentric questions to many or most of you; yet, it is the reality in many places around you if these questions are to be understood as analogies to the type of education offered to children from remote communities; or the cultural identity conflict they may face if their heritage is not valued and respected as it deserves.
Whatever the case, it is no secret that children who start schooling early in life, and encounter a linguistic environment that is alien to what they are familiar with, will go through a traumatic experience. Many know what is like to feel forced to fit in, to adapt in order to avoid being called demeaning adjectives or something worse, like becoming the target of physical or psychological abuse. It is unreasonable to expect that overnight little children will somehow function in a language which is not theirs; which is not the language they have heard from the cradle, or even earlier, from their mother’s womb. The rich and meaningful language that embraced and nurtured them as they learnt to take their first steps and other miracles of life, such as talking, learning cultural behaviour and acquiring social skills. These amazing early skills, which children do not learn at any prestigious school but at home, enable them to interact with their family and community, hopefully growing in appreciation for their traditions and spiritual beliefs. This converts parents into the very first teachers infants encounter in life. In some cases, siblings and other close relatives deserve some credit too.
Going back to the thread of language, whether these little children belong to remote monolingual communities, or multilingual societies near larger towns at the crossroads of trading, as for centuries has been the case of many northern communities, if the medium of instruction in the public education system is a national or international language children have never been exposed to, from the very beginning they will be in a disadvantaged situation. There are two options: survive or drop out. And while these naturally brilliant children try to cope with the challenge, a silent wound starts which will later remind them that they had to leave what was familiar and dear to them because it was not good enough to become ‘somebody’ in life. Unfortunately, this worst-case scenario may affect both marginalised language communities and internally displaced people who are imposed unfamiliar languages as a means for ensuring national unity. This has not proved helpful over the past. In fact, by doing this, societies are denying themselves the opportunity of having a solid foundation to build upon for the benefit of ethnolinguistic groups and entire nations. Torwali (2015) points out that lack of recognition of minority languages causes their death. Furthermore, he adds:
“The speakers of these minority languages regard their languages to be of no use for them to be able to progress in life. In order to be successful the linguistic minorities think they have to learn Urdu or English –or both. This way they abandon their language in favour of Urdu or any other powerful provincial language” (p. 270).
Surprisingly, this may also occur in countries of the so called ‘first world’, whether people are crossing the border for a number of reasons or due to migratory movements from conflict areas. And when the time comes to gain access to education, they realise that they have to become somebody else if they are to fit in societies that impose their rules because they do not value the wealth and worth of diverse ethnolinguistic identities. In his book ‘Language, Power and Pedagogy: Bilingual Children in the Crossfire’, Jim Cummins includes case studies from various contexts around the world, documenting the systematic devaluation of student identities within the school ‘characterised by coercive relations of power in the wider society’ (2000, p.51). Especially impactful is the experience of a Finnish young boy, Antti Jalava, as he narrates how he gradually committed ‘internal suicide’ in order to survive rejection in a Swedish school. Internal suicide is how he defines beginning to feel ashamed of his origins and letting go of everything he once held dear, especially his mother tongue which proved worthless in the neighbour country where his family emigrated to, in search of a better future.
How could anybody find excuses to remain indifferent to the fate of thousands or millions whose languages are regarded by others as inferior or not good enough? Fortunately, there still are people who are in love with their language and culture; that are not ashamed of their roots and want to offer others the opportunity to unleash their enormous potential as intelligent human beings, created to reach whatever summit they may set eyes on. People who care for their own people. People who are visionaries and are willing to invest time and efforts to try new and better ways to extend their tents and broaden their horizons. People who appreciate the value and usefulness of mother tongue-based education in early childhood, as a solid foundation to build upon and a trampoline to engage in the broader society affairs. People who believe that well informed, resourceful and responsible citizens can make a greater contribution to their community, country, and beyond the borders. Incidentally, Finland has become a frontrunner in education and also leading in social welfare thanks to strong and inclusive language and education policies.
I feel honoured to be invited to share some of these experiences and thoughts in a publication launched by the kind of people who seek to promote the vitality of the languages of northern Pakistan, and lock arms to work together towards a better understanding of their unique traits as well as their collective identity. Especially as I had the privilege to work for nine years training and consulting with a number of language communities who engaged in a joint venture towards establishing mother tongue-based multilingual education (MTB MLE) or alternatively early childhood education (ECC) for the children of their communities.
This education approach is especially appropriate in countries which although having multilingual societies, have established one national language to be used for official purposes. Ironically, in many countries such official language is the mother tongue of numerically the minority of citizens, while the majority population or larger communities speak what are considered ‘minority languages’. Therefore, we find that in a continuum of language policies countries who embrace multilingual policies, that is, special rights to the national or dominant language, while recognising and protecting the rights of disadvantaged languages, are the most supportive and open to quality education. While those who impose unity by means of the official language because they consider linguistic diversity as a threat, have the most restrictive policies (Malone, 2007, pp. 5-6).
More details about the nature and benefits of these programmes can be found in the website of unrelenting advocates for quality education operating locally, such as Idara Baraye Taleem-o-Taraqi (IBT), Gawri Community Development Programme (GCDP), and similar initiatives in other northern languages; or of international ones like UNESCO, SIL, the World Bank, etc.; as well as from countries whose governments evaluated and strategically adopted MTB MLE as part of their language and education policies (Timor-Leste, Thailand, the Philippines, Indonesia, etc.).
What I would like to highlight are the spectacular results obtained when children understand simple and more complex concepts because they are taught and discussed in their own mother tongue, the language they understand and speak best. When they are given latitude to be creative, to share their opinions, and encouraged to ask questions in order to receive answers. When they are treated with respect and from a tender age learn to respect others as well as their environment. When teaching them to read is not about decoding or memorising unfamiliar words but understanding! Understanding based on both phonological and phonemic awareness, which help develop cognitive and reasoning skills. And when writing is not about tracing or copying the same sentence one hundred times but encouraging them to share feelings or describe something they saw or experienced, first through drawings and later with meaningful words. And when learning a second language is based on comprehensible-input and affective filters, as Krashen (1982) points out that the emotional state of the learner can act as a filter that inhibits or blocks input necessary for language acquisition. Building on the basis of a strong mother tongue foundation serves as a bridge or a trampoline to move on, go higher in learning and functioning in other languages with greater confidence and effectiveness.
I will never forget the glowing faces of project leaders when sharing about improvised contests between preschoolers from mother tongue-based education and 2nd or 3rd graders from public schools in their communities. The little children who first learnt to read and write in their own language and had just started to bridging to the national language, excelled in almost every test. Or when the project leader said that one day, more than 70 women, mothers and relatives of preschoolers, surrounded him to ask: When will be our turn? We also want to learn!
And they were right in demanding access to education, to further learning because they already have a wealth of experiences that will contribute to make their learning both enriching and productive. They deserve it since, from the very beginning, they were the first teachers of those children and enabled them to gain access to better opportunities. A myopic language policy only widens the gap of knowledge between parents and children. In various researches conducted over the past years, the number one motivation for parents to have access to education was to support their children with school homework and more challenging assignments, and to offer them a brighter future. An enormous task that they should not do alone. Language community ownership and support are among the top enablers for quality education, such as MTB MLE programmes. Local teachers are the other great players and enablers. There are many brave ones willing to break paradigms and obsolete patterns to promote an interactive learning atmosphere. Regional or national authorities striving to offer effective policies and educational opportunities for speakers of non-dominant languages should also be applauded. Will others be open to adopt a different educational approach that seeks to encourage, engage, and unleash the natural potential of children? And to model an attitude of respect for older learners and to the previous knowledge and experiences they bring to the classroom? Since it is difficult to role model what has not been observed or experienced, comprehensive training needs to be delivered to further enhance the capacity of teachers, along with a great deal of support and encouragement. This is what IBT and others have been doing for many years, investing in teachers and facilitators who do not hide the power and potential of the learners, but advertise it. The kind of people who do not start building from the roof but lay a solid foundation that will last longer. I wish them all the best in their present and future endeavours, for the sake of their people and in response to justice and mercy.
September 2017
References:
- Cummins, J. (2000) Language, power and pedagogy: Bilingual children in the crossfire. Toronto: Multilingual Matters.
- Jasso, A. and Jasso, R. (1995) ‘Critical Pedagogy: Not a method, but a way of life’, in Reclaiming our Voices: Bilingual education, critical pedagogy and praxis. Los Angeles: California Association for Bilingual Education, pp. 253-259.
- Krashen, S.D. (1982) Principles and Practice in Second Language Acquisition. Oxford: Pergamon Press Inc. Available at: http://www.sdkrashen.com/content/books/principles_and_practice.pdf (Accessed: 20 March 2015, Internet revised edition, 2009).
- Malone, S.E. (2007) Mother Tongue-Based Multilingual Education: Implications for Education Policy. Paper presented at the Seminar on Education Policy and the Right to Education: Towards More Equitable Outcomes for South Asia’s Children, Kathmandu, September 2007.
- Torwali, Z. (2015) Muffled Voices: Longing for a pluralist and peaceful Pakistan. Lahore: Multi Line Publications.
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Other useful sites for scholarly articles and resources on MTB MLE:
- http://www.unescobkk.org/fileadmin/user_upload/library/edocuments/MTB-MLE_23_Oct.pdf
- http://postconflictdev.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/MOTHER-TONGUE-BASED-MULTILINGUAL-EDUCATION-FOR-TIMOR-LESTE-IMPLEMENTATION-PLAN.pdf
- https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/publication/176282/ino-mother-tongue-multilingual-education.pdf
- http://ojs.aiias.edu/index.php/ojs/article/view/186
- http://www.lc.mahidol.ac.th/mleconf2013/program.htm
- https://ccebb1a9-a-62cb3a1a-s-sites.googlegroups.com/site/mlephilippines/Home/mle-resources/21reasons-MLEPrimer.pdf
- http://www.uws.edu.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0006/782709/MTB-MLE_Report.pdf
- https://www.researchgate.net/publication/267849180_Mother_Tongue-based_Education_in_Developing_Countries_Some_emerging_insights