Home Thoughts From Abroad

Life of Pi is an endearing novel, if such can be said about a book that deals with isolation, unspeakable brutality and cannibalism, among other things. I found myself being charmed and disarmed as I made my way through it over Christmas while we traveled through Australia. My purpose, as is true for nearly everything I read, was how to compass its idiosyncratic nature within the confines of a classroom study.

There are of course plenty of online resources for this kind of thing. But I have learned to my chagrin that any novel study that I take from the internet can be answered by my students in the like same manner. Tit-for-tat, as it were. Besides, online studies have a tendency to ask closed questions (‘How many animals were on the boat?’, for example) instead of open ones (‘If the hyena were a man, what would he be like?’). The objective of a closed question is to determine if the student read the chapter. The objectives of an open question are to ensure that the student not only read , but understood the chapter, encourage discussion and inquiry, and stimulate the student into writing which is going to strengthen his/her abilty in English. Like most in my profession, I cheerfully despise closed questions.

I determined on a structure that divided the text into nineteen sections of about 24 pages each, with two open questions per section. My intention was to have the students read the section aloud in their small group, discuss the two questions for that day, and write down a one page answer for each. What was not done in class would become homework. I must confess I had my doubts when none of the groups even finished the reading on the first day, but I made adjustments. I scrapped the ten minute lesson on grammar that I had used in the first unit, and kept my opening remarks to ten minutes, no more. By the end of the first week my students were meeting my objectives.

Then I had to introduce the essay topic for this unit: a fifteen hundred word research paper that had to cite at least half a dozen secondary sources. Some of the students had been through this process last term; some were brand new to this task. I booked library computer time, went through the MLA style guide in painstaking detail and met individually with dozens of students. The results were impressive. Some papers had bibliographies that ran to fifteen entries; some were absolutely letter perfect in their grammar; most pursued their thesis with consistent vigour; nearly all passed through the SafeAssign plagiarism check with flying colours.

The unit fell exactly within the time parameters I had planned. I collected their response journals in which they recorded their answers to the forty questions on the novel, and they were as impressive as the essays. We even had time for a fun day of illustrating a scene from the novel, and a day to get them prepared for a reading assignment over the March Break. On top of all that I got all of their marks for this unit uploaded to Markbook and sent off to admin in time for their mid-term report.

Those who do this for a living will understand what this feels like. For those who do different things, it’s like building a bookcase that you have planned, or writing a program that does exactly when you wanted it to do. A well planned and executed unit is a deeply satisfying experience. My students feel accomplished and well rewarded for their labours, and so do I. We part company for a week happy in how far we have come this term, and confident in our continued success. Both us deserve a week to rest and renew ourselves, and I plan to do just that.

This has been one very intense week and it seems to have been a particularly long one for both Steve and I.  It was one in which I experienced the best aspects of our current life but also some of the worst aspects of it.

I arrived in Chiang Mai last Saturday morning and spent a wonderful afternoon with a couple of women from our team.  Prior to returning to my hotel room, I decided to check my email only to receive a message that my Dad had suffered a major heart attack. While Steve tried to make contact with family in Canada, I tried to figure out the quickest way to get back to KL.  Unfortunately the next direct flight, not until Sunday morning, was fully booked, meaning I would need to fly through Bangkok.  By the time I thought these things through, I had heard back from Steve that Dad had had surgery to remove a clot and was stable. 

We made a decision that I would stay put at least long enough to get the conference underway as I had stepped in at the last minute to act as registrar due to a family emergency of another lady. Even as I was getting people checked in for the conference, I was hearing that Dad was doing very well post-op, and within days was joking and saying he had not felt so well in months. This seemed to confirm a decision to stay in Thailand.

Throughout the SE Asia and Pacific CHE Consultation, our days were booked from 7 am to 9:30 pm with exciting reports from a number of countries, opportunities to network with other organizations, and numerous learning activities. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with people who are committed to the people in their countries of service and to the CHE strategy of community development that emphasizes the development of ongoing relationships with people in need.

Wednesday marked yet another birthday spent alone in a strange place. My birthday present was hearing that Dad had been discharged from hospital, tired but feeling well.  Also on Wednesday, I finally got to share a burden that has been growing on my heart for two years with a large group of people who not only fully understood my hopes but had the training, credentials, network and desire to meet the need.  There were four doctors in the room who were excited about the potential of taking on the challenge.  By the time I packed it in on Friday night we had a plan in place and the needed documents completed to move to the next level.

Thursday and Friday, were spent in a Founders Meeting for the International CHE Network creating vision and mission statements and developing an action plan for this coming year.  This will mean another set of responsibilities and another huge learning curve as I am leading a task group to explore the many issues involved in translating, contextualizing, cataloguing and storing lessons and materials in the many languages of south-east Asia.

In a week like this you realize not only what a privilege it is to be serving at this stage in our lives but also the cost involved. In the middle of all that happened this week Steve is alone in KL dealing with the challenges of his own work with its constantly shifting requirements, trying to provide me the information I need on my Dad, supported by a wife who only gets to communicate with him through text messages.

We are well aware that our families also share in that cost as they are left dealing with issues at home and that without their support we would not be able to continue here. We want to thank them and our many friends who have prayed for my Dad, and have sent us messages of encouragment and support during this eventful week.

The Canadian Pre-University Program where I work shares a building with two other educational programs: the Cambridge A-Level Program and the South Australian Matriculation Program. Both CAL and SAM are twice as large as our program. They are both well supported by the universities in the countries that promote them and well advertised in this growing Asian education market. Foreign language students studying in Australian universities are that country’s third largest industry.

By contrast, the Canadian program is not well-known, either in Asian, or back home in Canada. In fact the Canadian government just this month cut off funding for the small office that advises Asian students on the Canadian option. In addition, this program is expensive. In order to be licensed by the Ontario government, the school must employ Canadian teachers, which requires a salary that is high enough to recruit Canadian staff. Understandably, with a smaller per student profit margin, it doesn’t pay Taylor’s College to promote this program, despite its clear pedagogical superiority.

The CAL and SAM programs have continued to expand at this program’s expense, and in order to make room for all their new students, the Canadian program is being asked to leave. In two weeks. Yesterday we got a tour of the office building they are moving us to. It is enough to make one weep. The previous tenants have only just moved out, and the place is a disaster. Taylor’s has promised to renovate, but have set themselves no deadline for those renovations. When we were there we saw two painters working without much effort covering up the yellow stains on one wall. At the rate they were moving the  renovations should be finished in a mere forty years.

I know that change is inevitable, and heaven knows I have been through enough of them in my lifetime to get used to it. I know that change can sometimes bring renewal; but I also know that change is not always for the better. From what I saw yesterday, this is one change that I could do without.

The upside on this (and there is always an upside) is that I don’t work for Taylor’s College, anymore than I ever worked for Thames Valley District School Board, or before them Elgin County Board of Education. Since He got hold of my life some 35 years ago, I have worked for the Lord. It is He that sent me to Malaysia, and it is He that will send me home when He is done with me here. As for the circumstances of my employment, well that is for Him to decide. He knows my frame. He will at times test me and try me in order to purify my motives and keep me in line, but He will never allow me to be overwhelmed, and if this change proves to be an impossible situation, then that will be His way of telling me it is time to move on.