I sometimes wonder how the people who lived in the Dark Ages felt. Did they realise they were in the Dark Ages? Did they walk in the streets ducking dark blobs of poo falling from above and think of the previous, glorious Roman times?

Did they say: “Cor, we used to know how to build toilets with a flushing, and now look at us chucking our chamber pots contents out of the window every morning, whatever happened to us?”

Did they survive one pestilence after the next, sigh and tell each other: “Don’t worry, the Renaissance is round the corner, it’ll all be better”?

I’ve found myself wandering down the corridors of the Middle Ages because these days, every time I read my news feed, I feel like it’s the Dark Ages all over again, and I’m looking at the past for answers on how to cope.

For this reason, today I won’t be writing about how we found ourselves living in a country where we think it’s okay for migrants to live in squalid horse stables. Or how we’re fine with agricultural land the size of seven football pitches being razed to the ground, and for 600 trees to be killed, to make way for tarmac and more traffic.

Or how we don’t mind a prime minister who pussyfoots about ordering a public inquiry for the murder of journalist Daphne Car­uana Galizia despite an international uproar. Or how we’d rather stick our heads in the sand than face the fact that Malta has become a de facto one-party State.

No. Instead I shall write about Matsec.  

A couple of weeks ago, the Maltese examinations board, Matsec, announced a long awaited post-secondary education reform. One of the first subjects to be overhauled is the much-derided ‘Systems of Knowledge’ – a subject required for entry to university.

Not a day too soon, I mumbled to myself, when I read the news. On paper it is one of the most interesting subjects: the topics range from the origins of democracy and the importance of the environment to the wonders of science and the beauty of art through the centuries. But in practice, it’s a nightmare.

Four years ago, I sat down studying SOK with the stepson. He hated it because the information and the literature was overwhelmingly vast. I hated it be­cause the syllabus killed the joy of topics that are meant to enrich the soul. Getting students to cram it all in a year and a half was simply bonkers, and in fact, more and more students were failing the exam.

Scrap SoK. Introduce Culture & Civics

Last week’s suggestion was to rename it ‘Systems of Knowledge and Communication’ (err, not ex­actly the sexiest of names) and to split into culture studies – pretty much the current syllabus – and communication studies, where students would be taught skills such as “debating, presentations, public speaking and teamwork”.

“The course will focus more on critical thinking, leadership and other important skills,” Matsec chairman Frank Ventura said, add­ing that lessons will be more in the shape of dynamic discussions.

Sigh.

I would like to know the average age of the Matsec board. Is it 75? Don’t any of them have grandchildren? Don’t they realise that introducing “presentations, debating and public speaking” at the age of 16, when teenage self-consciousness is at its peak, is a dead duck? Is it possible that they don’t realise that critical thinking is not something that can be taught in two years? Or that you cannot tell students, aged 16, to start discussing a topic if they would have never practised discussion skills in their formative school years before?

The board members are probably university lecturers who are tired of lecturing to rooms full of blank faces. Fair enough, but in­tro­ducing communication skills two years before university is no solution to that.

If I were ever to become education minister for a day I would do only two things. First, I would scrap Systems of Knowledge. Second, I would introduce Culture and Civics (C&C) workshops, starting from Year 1 in primary school. Because you can’t reform post-secon­dary education by itself: the overhaul needs to start from primary school.

C&C would be modelled on the teachings of Aristotle to his star pupil, Alexander the Great. So, culture would consist of art: Maltese artists, European artists and artists from every continent. The same with music, literature, philosophy and theatre.

Civics would include history, poli­tics and current affairs: teaching children how to sieve truth from false information and justice from injustice; an understanding of freedom of expression and common good duties; and training in social behaviour and manners.

Notice that I said ‘workshops’, not ‘lessons’. That’s because in these weekly or monthly workshops, students would meet musicians, writers, artists, politicians, environmentalists, independent media journalists, historians and people who have made an impact in their communities. There’d be hands-on activities, and students would write reports based on their personal experiences.

And just as the teachings of Aristotle later helped Alexander to communicate with the people in his newly conquered empires, so would our children be nurtured to understand and ad­mire different cultures. C&C would give students a true identity of who they are, of their country, of their Europe and their world.

As they grow older, in the secondary and sixth form years, the workshops could expose children to the real thing. If they’d be studying classic civilisation, then they’d be taken to Athens and Rome. If they’d be studying the Renaissance, then whole grades would be taken to Florence. And in their final year, they’d visit the African continent. They’d be given cookery lessons, taken to the theatre and get a chance to work with locals.

Where will the money come from for this? This government, with its ministers swimming in surplus money, could surely afford investing in raising decent democratic citizens and showing them that there’s more to the world than shopping and Dubai.

If we raised the new generation on C&C, then no agricultural land would be razed to the ground, no farmers would find their land turn­ed into tarmac, no journalist would be assassinated and we would not wake up in the morning to blobs of dark news.

Maybe, just maybe, the new generation would be able to crack the dawn of a new renaissance.

krischetcuti@gmail.com
twitter: @krischetcuti