A Moral Education or Amoral Education?

Jamie and I are currently in one of the most important steps of our baseline data collection process: observing teachers and classrooms to evaluate the quality of teaching.  Each teacher is being observed twice, as randomly as possible.  Yesterday, we were observing Religious and Moral Education (called RME) in JHS 2 (equivalent to 7/8^th grade). 

Now, RME is a very interesting subject.  Given its name, one might think that it involves discussions of different religious and moral codes.   Not so much.  I think a more appropriate name for this course would be “Ghanaian Traditional Culture,” because students learn about the different codes of behavior and expectations of the various tribes in Ghana.

Below is a sample of the notes that the students took on the day’s subject:  Acestors.

Qualifications:

1. Must be dead and have entered the spirit world. 
2. Must not have died from the following diseases:
1. Leprosy
2. Epilepsy
3. Must not have committed suicide.
4. Good to have died as a war hero.
5. Must have lived to a ripe old age (according to class consensus, that means 70)
6. Must have married and have had children.

Importance:

1. Ancestors are a link between the living and spirit worlds.
2. Ancestors set good examples for the living.
3. Ancestors are unseen guests at family gatherings.
4. Ancestors are called upon to settle family disputes.

What I found most compelling from this class was not the emphasis on the spirit world, or the fact that leprosy/epilepsy/suicide were dealbreakers.  It was instead the fact that these students were effectively learning about their own culture in a class.

I usually think of culture as something that an individual experiences throughout his or her life, a collection of traditions, beliefs, and thought systems that are acquired with time.  It’s not something that one can learn in a classroom. Or is it? Maybe I’m wrong, and reaffirming culture in school helps to preserve it in the face of a changing society.  Either way, it raises the question:  how does traditional Ghanaian culture fit in with the modern lifestyles of Ghanaian youth?

It’s really a doozie of a question. There isn’t one answer – even among the teachers and students here, there is great variation among how much people adhere to traditional values, and which values are prioritized.  Some things are pretty standard: greeting is very important, deference to elders as well.  In fact, students and children as a whole don’t get a lot of respect.  It makes me wonder, if education is empowerment, and tradition dictates that children remain powerless, is my work to further quality education actually working to suppress Ghanaian culture? 

Please, Please, Pay My Fees

I happen to be a proud product of the United States Public School System.  With the exception of a few years at a Montessori pre-school, my parents never had to pay for my primary education.  And all things considered, I think I turned out pretty well.

Here in Ghana, it’s rare to hear someone be proud of the public school system.  “Government schools,” as they are called, are universally considered as inferior to the nations numerous private schools. Why are government schools so much worse?  One thing to consider is class size – at many government schools, class sizes often reach 60 or 70 students, especially in rural areas.  However, the main reason usually cited for low quality of education is the teachers.  This is somewhat ironic, because the teachers at government schools are required to go a Teacher Training College, whereas private schools have the ability to hire whomever they wish. In theory, teachers at government schools are more prepared and qualified to teach.  But if you ask anyone in Ghana, they say those teachers are bad, because of a lack of oversight.  Private schools, which are often for-profit, monitor their teachers closely. But government schools lack both the infrastructure and the incentives to monitor their teachers, resulting in decreased effort.

This explains why many of the USAID programs, which work solely with government schools in Ghana, focus on school oversight and management.   It also explains why most parents will, if at all possible, send their kids to private schools, even if they struggle to pay for them.

At Manye in particular, the payment of school fees is one of the school’s major problems.  Current rates are as follows:  40 GHC/term for Nursery/KG; 50 GHC/term for Primary; 60 GHC/term for JHS.  Last term, inflows from school fees were only 65% of where they should have been.  Which means that this term, the school opened with almost 4,000 GHC worth of arrears owed to the school.

Manye is a non-profit school, because the proprietor is trying to provide education to the poorer families in the community.  This is great, because some of the families around here really can’t afford the 50 GHC/term for each kid. Unfortunately, there are many families who can afford the fees, but just don’t pay them because they can sort of get away with it.

It’s a very interesting situation, which manifests itself with management and teachers perpetually trying to convince students to bring money to the school.  I want to close this entry with a particularly poignant example. After practicing their alphabet and the two letter words that they already know, the KG class practiced the following song, complete with actions:

Please, please, pay my fees

Please, please pay my fees

I want to be a doctor

I want to be a pilot

Please, please, pay my fees

Please, please, pay my fees

I want to go to America

America, America

I want to go to America

Please, please, pay my fees