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TE KUAKA ISSUE 1 2014 19
What followed was an experience in education so different to
what she was familiar with, where education and learning takes
place in conditions very different to New Zealand. Even something
as simple as access to paper could be difficult.
“If I wanted to write a letter I would call the clerk and request a
piece of paper. She would go and open the locked cupboard with a
key and get it.”
When the school wanted to teach art, they would send the
children home with a note requesting parents to buy and send a
piece of paper to school.
She soon realised as principal that as well as teaching her ideas
to her staff and pupils, they had plenty to teach her about their
style of education.
“I knew very little, I had a lot to learn about cultural
responsiveness. The things I was telling them to do were often
off the mark. Shortly after arriving there I remember giving the
children a very comforting talk about simply doing their best in
one of their regular exams and was mystified by their confused
response. Then I realised they had no concern about the exam, they
were completely used to the process. It was me that thought exams
were a thing to be feared. They enjoyed the competition.”
Elise planned to challenge the practice of rote learning, where
children learnt by chanting or ‘by-hearting’.
“I was coming from my carefully nurtured educational
philosophy and believed it to be globally appropriate.”
Elise soon learned that while rote learning is no longer suitable
for New Zealand pupils, it has a specific role in India.
“They start chanting as they’re memorising. It’s the same chant
I heard in the temples when the young priests are learning their
religious texts. This is a learning style that’s gone on for thousands
of years. They’re building an incredibly strong memory, and that
well-developed memory is an essential part of Indian culture.”
“I was challenged to throw out my education philosophy, to sit
back and to observe. It was not appropriate for me to say ‘ok, now
we are going to completely revolutionise this school by introducing
a new pedagogy’. I had to reflect for a long time before I decided
how to proceed as principal.”
In observing, she found that children as young as four-years-old
could write in English, Hindi and the state language of Telugu.
“They are writing words in English, in beautiful handwriting and
they have multiplication tables under their belts up to 20. They are
doing mathematics; they are doing double digit subtraction. And
mostly they would sit for long periods absorbed in their repetitive
work.”
There was no question from the teacher, the pupils or their
parents that they would be able to achieve.
She observed teenage pupils who sincerely valued their
education, applying themselves diligently to advanced mathematics
and science, developing incredible memories for facts and figures,
or for intricate dance moves.
“I realised that through rote learning these children were
learning a tremendous amount, and in a language that is not their
own. Their memories were sharp. If you told them a new phrase in
a second or third language – that’s it, they knew it. Compare that
to me who had to ask for words in the regional language of Telugu
again and again. So what we needed to do was to complement
this method of remembering by enlivening their spirit of enquiry
through a wide range of activities. It was complementing not
replacing.”
“It took years, with a team of mostly untrained teachers who
required constant guidance. But I can say that the children lit up.
I could see that when Indian children learn the skills to utilise their
vast knowledge, they will be dominant in a global context. Quite
frankly, they are brilliant.”
In her time as principal, the school moved out of it’s basic
building in the town of Ongole and into a new modern school
building they built in a rural area, with great resources (and lots of
paper). The school flourished and grew to more than1,000 pupils in
kindergarten, primary and secondary classes.