No longer a ticket to better future

Pan Yingjie, the president of Shanghai Ocean University, can never forget the summer of 1977 when an examination changed his life. It was not the easiest of times for the 27-year-old Pan then as life seemed bleak after the daily toil at a rural fertilizer plant in Anhui province that was not only sapping his energy, but proving a health issue for his pregnant wife.

Though both his parents were professors at a university in Shanghai, Pan, like so many others of his time, had no opportunity to study as education was stopped in China after the "cultural revolution" (1966-1976) began.

Ten years of the "cultural revolution" brought China's education system to a grinding halt. Not only was the national college entrance exam suspended, a large number of urban youth like Pan were forced to work in rural areas.

In August 1977, China took the first steps to restore the national college entrance examinations. Two months later, the State Council gave the Ministry of Education the green light to go ahead with the national examinations (or gaokao). Nearly 5.7 million people took part in the 1977 examination, and over 4.7 percent were enrolled.

That path-breaking move also opened the door for some urbanites like Pan to change their jobs and make their lives better.

With hardly any time to study as his job at the fertilizer plant demanded full-time attention, it was left to Pan's wife to look after the entire family and their young son. "I am grateful when the national college exam resumed in 1977, as it was like a return ticket to Shanghai and an opportunity to change my job," says Pan.

In 1978, Pan joined Anhui Agriculture College, and was among the first group of university students in the 1980s. "The university students of the 1980s had some common characteristics - their thirst for knowledge and passion to study hard, along with a pleasant and grateful disposition," he says.

"It was an opportunity for us to regain the lost 10 years of our lives," recollects Pan. It was also a time when China was desperately searching for talent with a higher educational background. Or in other words, passing the national college exam was a ticket to good jobs at State-owned institutions or enterprises.

But by 1999, the wheel had turned full circle.

Wu Xiaofeng, the youngest son of a poor rural family in Dengtun village, Pulandian city of Liaoning province, is one of the representatives of the new generation. Unlike their predecessors, Wu did not worry too much about his future and employment. Wu came top in the national college entrance exam in Pulandian, and enrolled at Peking University in 2000.

"Everyone in our hometown was proud of his success then. Everyone had high hopes for him. Many of us expected him to work for the State Council after graduation," says Wu's neighbor.

But contrary to expectations, Wu was unsuccessful in his efforts to find a job either in Beijing or Dalian, the nearest major city, and returned home to become a hawthorn farmer.

What makes Wu's case peculiar is that despite graduating in preventive medicine from Peking University and his internship experience at Peking University First Hospital, he failed to find a good job due to stiff competition and limited quotas.

"One reason why he was unsuccessful could have been the fact that in spite of studying hard, he was not good at communicating with people," says Wu's high school teacher surnamed Zhao.

Wu's case reflects the current paradox in China's education system. Fast-changing market dynamics have made it imperative that apart from education, other requisite skills such as practical experience and good communication are essential for success in the competitive job market. And it is these skills that the current education system fails to redress, say experts.

Yet another flaw in the current system is that despite paying higher tuition fees every year, candidates have not been able to land jobs as they do not possess the required skills.

With family budgets often overstretched and in some cases exhausted, there is virtually no option left for these students, other than find some kind of employment.

"In today's China, university exams are no longer the ticket to change one's fate," says Xiong Bingqi, deputy director of the Beijing-based 21 Century Education Research Institute.

The complaints about the education system are not just from rural families, but also from the relatively better-off urban residents.

In big cities across the country, an increasing number of about-to-graduate high school students are heading abroad as a back-up for possible failure in the national college entrance exam, which has often been dubbed as "millions of troops killing for a chance to cross a thin log over a river".

In schools across the country, the three-year preparation for the exam usually means round-the-clock studies, endless tests, and mental pressure for students, parents and teachers, says Yin Hang, a Beijinger. "I got tired of all that and I told my parents I want to study happily and peacefully."

The mistrust of the current education system is also mirrored in the fact that China had the largest number of overseas students in the world last year, around 1.27 million according to data from the Ministry of Education.

Self-financed students account for bulk of the overseas students and are spread over various countries including the United States, Australia, Japan, the United Kingdom, South Korea, Canada, Singapore, France, Germany and Russia.

But experts point out that the overseas education craze will in no way impact the current gaokao system. Yuan Guiren, minister of education, told China Daily in an earlier interview. "China will not stop the national college entrance examination as it is still the most objective way to evaluate talent."

(China Daily 06/01/2011 page14)