james.soriano

---

PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 18 February 2009 Issue

---

Amidst all this talk of making English the primary medium of instruction for public schools, one has to ask whether there is real good to be gained from teaching in a language other than our own.

It is a very important question because language and education are inextricably linked. You cannot teach if you cannot be understood. And beyond that, the language of education also shapes the way you think and communicate, because language inevitably affects the types of cultural influences that you are exposed to.

I remember back in grade school how we used to have a so-called “English Rule.” On certain days or class periods, students would not be allowed speak in a language other than English. If a student is caught speaking in, say, Filipino, he would be subjected to a penalty, which differed depending on the grade school you went to (I went to two, and rival ones at that.) While these small pockets of time might not seem to have mattered in determining the way you speak, for me it did. I took the English Rule very seriously, maybe because it made you seem smarter if you could speak it well. Eventually, it became easiest for me to express myself in the language.

Then again, I was in a different sort of environment. My peers belonged to middle-class or otherwise wealthy households, many of which encouraged the children to read English books, watch English shows, and speak the English language at home. So it isn’t surprising that some of us express ourselves more fluently with a vocabulary that is not ours.

This brings me back to the summer after high school freshman year, which I spent with a couple of friends teaching underprivileged kids from a nearby slum area. Partnered with one of my classmates, I was tasked to teach basic English grammar and syntax. On the first day, I tried doing my own version of the English Rule to encourage the kids to speak the language, which I figured would make them more familiar with it.

I gave up after ten minutes. I had to switch codes every other sentence, because I couldn’t make myself understood. If you’ve ever tried teaching English to someone in Filipino, then you would know exactly how difficult this is. But sadly, this was the way it went with my teaching all summer. Looking back, I realize now that it was unreasonable for me to expect them to speak it fluently by the end. They come from a background that is different from mine.

Thus, I can only imagine how difficult it would be, even for a qualified teacher, to teach in English in some other far-flung area, like the mountains or an isolated island community. If this teacher weren’t a native, then it would be difficult enough just finding a way to communicate with her students. What more in a language that is foreign?

The first concern of education is to ensure that the knowledge can be understood, and thus imparted in a language that the student can fully understand. It is unreasonable for us to expect students to comprehend their lessons and improve their scores while struggling with their medium at the same time.

This is true even with teaching Science and Math, fields which are dominated mostly by Western dialects. Other countries such as Japan, South Korea, and Slovenia teach Math and Science in their native tongues, and they periodically rank among the world’s best countries in terms of proficiency in these subjects. We teach Math and Science in English, and yet we don’t.

All of this notwithstanding, our policy makers are still grappling with the problem of our country’s failing English proficiency. Changing the primary medium of instruction would seem to help in solving this, because students would ideally be acclimatized to an environment where English is valued as the language of progress and modernization, of intellect and the elite. This is, truly enough, the reality of our neocolonial society. You can’t get far in this country—indeed, this world—without knowing a little English.

But what escapes these policy makers are the harsh realities of education.

---

PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 3 December 2008 Issue (Page G-3)

---

The eve of Bonifacio Day brings back memories of my first days as a freshman in high school, particularly the one where I was sitting in Filipino class listening to my then-teacher, Mr. Pioquid, give an introduction to the course.

I especially remember that the reason it wasn’t boring was because he made a lot of noise by dropping his empty tin can onto the cement floor, and then proceeded to liken our young minds to tin cans which must be empty in order to be capable of receiving new and valuable knowledge. Back then, it struck me as very profound.

But there is one other thing that I remember from that first Filipino session, and that is a small parenthetical remark he made while glossing over the more boring (and unfortunately, the more important) parts of the syllabus.

He mentioned something about us taking an Honors course in Filipino by the time we got to sophomore year. I remember that this struck me as very strange: I could understand taking an Honors course in Math or Science or English, like most other gifted students would in other schools. But why would we have an advanced course in Filipino?

Looking back, maybe I was asking the wrong question. What I ask now is: why don’t most other schools have advanced courses in Filipino?

Oops, dumb question. There are a number of good reasons why we don’t.

For one thing, what is the Filipino language in the first place? Is it Tagalog? Is it Tagalog with tidbits of regional dialects? Or is it a genuine halo-halo of all of our major tongues?

As for me, I really don’t know. Members of the academe are still debating these questions as we speak. Therefore, maybe Filipino is just our cop-out: it allows us to say that we have a national language, even if in reality, we don’t.

Besides, it’s not very wise to master a language that isn’t utilized very often in politics or trade. Our laws, for example, aren’t written in Filipino, and neither are our court rulings and executive orders. They are all written in English. That’s why our lawyers take the bar examinations in English, and those who come out on top, more often than not, are people who are very well-versed in the English language.

The same is true with the language of education. In what language are we taught Science, Math, and Religion? Heck, we can even go beyond that: what is the language of the educated and the elite?

It really isn’t a surprise, then, that people who belong on the upper limits of society, like many of the people I come into contact with everyday, like to laugh at people who don’t speak English very well. English is the language of the man in the mansion, while Filipino is the language of the man on the street.

Besides, English is the language of the professional. It is the key to getting employed. This is especially true nowadays, when the trend is to go abroad where all the lucrative jobs are. If your employers can’t understand you, how can you expect them to hire you? In fact, this is also true with jobs here at home. Do you think call center agents are paid to speak in Filipino?

Hence, maybe I should be thankful that I’ve been trained to value the English language ever since I was a young boy. I should be thankful that I was exposed early to English cartoons and stories, for without them I don’t think I would have developed affection for the language. I should also be grateful that I was sent to schools that put a premium on being able to express yourself effectively in English; otherwise my skills as a student would never have been recognized.

Finally, I should be grateful that I was born in a society that never fails to remind me why that’s important.

After all, you don’t need to love your language to be able to love your country. Right?