Campus Review Vol 29. Issue 5 May 2019 | Página 17

policy & reform campusreview.com.au the banana survives, but a Year 12 certificate or an A is not the equivalent of surviving. There are so many ways to survive, but what we’ve done is now that has become a proxy for life or death. It’s pass or fail, win or lose, life or death, and it creates enormous stress in a society. I’m coming from a position of having lived on five continents, and this is absolutely the safest, most incredible place to live. I’m absolutely stunned by the levels of anxiety here that are societally induced. It’s not like we’re in a war zone, or we’re surrounded by 90 per cent of people who are unemployed. That’s not the situation, so the anxiety does not correlate to the level of comfort in our society in general. Is this just an inevitable outcome of the increasingly competitive and globalised world that we live in? Perhaps. I think that’s part of it, and I think that’s the narrative: that we’re in this race to the top. The fact is, if you do want to succeed in the ways by which we measure success – for example, achieving highly in an exam – the worst possible state you can be in is a stressed position, because that impedes cognitive function. The things that we are aiming for, we’re going about getting there in the wrong way. If you really wanted academic geniuses, you would be more concerned with kids’ nervous systems and whether they were spending most of the day in a fight or flight state, or in an optimum state called ‘high coherence’. That’s a term coined by the HeartMath Institute in California, where blood flow to the brain is optimised for a high-performance state. All this sitting at a desk, sweating over stuff and getting anxious: it might look noble to those who see you falling apart, but it’s not really in our best interest. If we really did want to compete, we’d want to be in the optimum state. We’ve lost sight of what that is. By easing the pressure on school leavers, in knowing what they want to do with their lives, is there some risk of them lapsing into indecision and lacking drive or direction? If so, how can we manage that or avoid it? I think we fear that, because we think drive or direction must be externally induced – the carrot and the whip. But as [educationalist] Ken Robinson says, when kids find their passion or find their element, there is no problem with motivation and drive. It’s the lack of ability to find your element, and then the lack of ability of the society to support kids to take the time that they sometimes need to find their element. When you’re 18, you are not completely a developed person. You don’t even know what’s out there. I was talking to some Year 12s yesterday, and they said: “We don’t know what to do because we don’t even know what we can do.” They don’t know what options there are. The reality is we don’t know what the future holds, what the enormous possibilities are out there that don’t yet exist but will. Our best bet is to support kids to develop capacities and to not take away the time that they need to find their passion. There’s always a risk that people fall off the bandwagon, but they are falling off the bandwagon now in a very serious way. Maybe it could be worse, but I would say we’re at a static place. There are kids dropping out, not being engaged at school. Our school system is no longer meeting the needs of society and the needs of the students. Our primal fear is that, “Oh my gosh, if we don’t have a whip and a carrot, people are just going to lie back and be covered in chips until they’re 25 and play Xbox”. That’s the risk anyway; that’s always the risk. But imagine if you were given the opportunity to find what you loved and were passionate about for that moment – how that might change your motivation. What are some ways in which we can give students the opportunity to find their passion or their element? And how do we change the message to ease the pressure? That’s a great question, and that’s the most important one of all. The first thing is to take the weight off the product and put it on the process. Let’s choose a context. Let’s say in the classroom you want kids to learn such and such, and all the weight is on the assessment piece. The process is only geared towards an outcome. But what if the weight was on the process? What if it was a project with an open-ended result that everybody was engaged in, and that you could bring different talents to? Say it was a project that crossed from history to geography to maths. You were designing a city, and were creating how the water was going to flow, and how population growth was going to Either you’ve passed or you’ve failed, or you’re a success or you’re a failure, or you win or you lose. That’s the primary problem. be controlled, etc. You had to use every possible faculty, and the end result was a design. The reward is the process. Maybe you get actual architects and city planners and designers to come back and give you feedback on your design, then you have a real-world engagement with a real project that might actually be useful to society. This could be done in Year 3 or it could be done at university. The idea is that we’re not worried about a grade; we’re worried about how well this is going to work in the world. Ken Robinson said creativity should be as important as maths and literacy, and I agree with that. That’s not just because we need innovative thinkers. It’s because we need, as human beings, an inner life. We spend a third of our life asleep and dreaming crazy things. We need an inner life, and we need to feed that inner life. All the art, all the sensory experiences that we get through the arts are essential to our optimum functioning as human beings. When we take that away and we think we’re just these heads that need to absorb and then regurgitate so-called knowledge, we’re actually diminishing the capacity of human beings. [We need to make] space for creative endeavours in every part of our educational system, and educational endeavours that are not graded or rated. We’ve become so obsessed with metricising everything. You’d see enormous benefits in the things you did measure if you allowed space for things you didn’t measure. We’ve become so obsessed with data that we’ve lost sight of the fact that data is produced by human beings doing things, and that we can’t possibly measure everything. If I were to try to get a picture of you from a bunch of blood tests and scans, I would know absolutely nothing about who the person is. Data’s useful – I’m not dissing it – but we need to lose that narrative to a large degree and replace it with a better one. ■ 15