The School Week Debate

We have witnessed enough drama surrounding the controversial debate over whether to keep or eliminate Saturday from the school week during the political common forums. The spark of the debate has reignited as the government that pledged during political campaign to keep Saturdays off disclosed to the media regarding the committee's suggestion to retain Saturday as regular working days. 

Drawing from my experience as a former schoolteacher, I have always longed for the Ministry of Education to remain isolated from the clutch of politics. It was a terrible and frustrating ordeal to be at the receiving end when education was politicised. For every five years, teachers would find themselves conforming to the whims of directives from the ruling political parties to dance to the tunes of their party manifestoes - only to witness their efforts swiftly scrapped by the incoming parties upon assuming power. The aftermath they produce after prostituting the education ministry due to their myopic visions was enough to leave teachers chaotic, irritated, and disoriented. But for now, the idea to discuss this complex web of politics in education is not my interest and therefore, beyond the scope of this article. Instead, I zoom in on the controversial debate surrounding the fate of Saturdays in the school week.

Generally, the decision of whether to have Saturdays off for the school largely depends on the educational system and its contextual settings. For example, in countries where education system is thriving, the idea of Saturday as a weekend holiday is not even a matter of debate. Despite schools having only a five-day school week with Saturdays off, these countries have high-end education systems.

However, in Bhutan, perhaps in a quest of fulfilling the much-touted quality wholesome education, our experts have venerated the longstanding tradition of holding classes even on Saturdays. Whether we are fulfilling the ideals of quality wholesome education is still debatable, two things are evident; First, our teachers unlike their counterparts worldwide, juggle multiple non-curricular roles alongside teaching. Second, the much-espoused quality wholesome education that we aspire for, still lacks clear (contextual) definition or conceptual framework of our own, remaining as the most contested subjects in our society. Let alone others, this ambiguity challenges even our (education) experts, to clearly delineate what falls within the scope of this controversial subject. 

Categorically speaking, whether it was born of genuine necessity or calculated political maneuvering, the arrival of democracy has triggered the debate concerning the exclusion of Saturdays from school week. In political arena, the debate has become more than a phenomenon and worse than a pandemic. That is why in every political campaign, we witness the recurrence of this issue, often materialised as a political bait to garner votes. At one point, the Druk Nyamrog Tshogpa (DNT) issued directives to consider Saturdays optional for regular school week. However, this ambiguous (which I explain later) order was short-lived, as a new political party reinstated Saturdays back into conventional school routine. 

This contentious game of removing and reintroducing Saturdays now raises a fundamental question: What drives us to trigger this controversy?

If the reasons are political, I am not the one to discuss them. If it is educational, I may have some opinions to offer, considering my stint as a teacher for over a decade. Although the details are not exhaustive, following the latter perspectives, I outline the benefits of incorporating Saturdays into the school week, followed by the consideration of keeping Saturdays off. I then offer an insider’s views (emic perspective) to highlight observations and occurrences on Saturdays in our schools that are largely taken-for-granted.

 

Keeping Saturdays as School Days

Having additional days means more instructional hours, which could potentially contribute to a thorough coverage of curricular requirements. That is, beyond academics, the extra day may offer opportunities for delivering the much-espoused wholesome education by including extracurricular activities (e.g., games and sports, clubs) and character-building programs (scouting, value education, agriculture) in the schools. 

Studies have indicated that Bhutanese curriculum is oversubscribed and content laden (Childs et al., 2012; Schuelka et al., 2018; Sherab & Schuelka, 2023). Unless we streamline our curriculum by focusing only on essentials, using Saturday in the regular school week would be a viable alternative to optimise curriculum coverage – perhaps due to which it is continued until today. Teachers may have the flexibility to distribute the teaching materials more evenly, reducing the anxiety to rush through lessons. This extended timeframe may allow for a more in-depth exploration of subjects and possibly facilitate a thorough engagement during teaching-learning process. 

Keeping Saturdays Off 

Keeping Saturdays off from the school week also offers equal, if not greater, share of merits. For example, having Saturdays off will provide both teachers and students with two full days to take a break (not rest), rejuvenate, or engage in extracurricular activities (e.g., hobbies, hiking, pilgrimage, sports, or socialisation). By breaks, I mean, an active period of engagement in teaching-learning process whereas rest implies a more passive state of recuperation. Teachers and students having breaks can contribute to their overall well-being and work/study–life balance. 

Keeping Saturdays off from teaching can facilitate both the quantity and quality of family time. For parents who reside away from their kids attending boarding schools, these days would be an excellent opportunity to reunite and share meals with them. Even if the meals provided in the schools are of top quality, at times, we often have that craving for home-cooked meals. Such opportunities for frequent meetings can arguably strengthen family bonds. From sociological lens, social bonds (social and emotional connections) between individuals are constantly being formed, maintained, disrupted, or repaired. Scheff (1997) argues that social bonds, if not being formed, maintained, or repaired, may be broken. Emotions are cultural phenomenon (Barrett, 2017; Markus & Kitayama, 1991; Pugh et al., 2022; Retzinger, 1991), with an individual’s emotions being constantly shaped by the cultural ideas and practices prevalent in their society. The theory suggests that when individuals have secure bonds, they experience the feelings of solidarity or social cohesion. When insecure or loose bonds are formed, it leads to feelings of isolation/alienation. In Durkheimian ideology, social isolations and disconnect are referred to have associations with higher likelihoods of suicidal ideation (Durkheim, 1897/1952). Hence, sociological theories have acknowledged social bonds as fundamental for fostering social solidarity (Collins, 2004; Collins, 2020; Scheff, 1997) which is critical to uphold particularly in this modern social contexts where the nature and culture of work are increasingly leading to social distancing by limiting our interactions. 

A longer weekend can be beneficial in minimising stress and burnout for both students and teachers. It allows them to revitalise and prepare for the upcoming school week. I have often noticed that students feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of homework they get from different disciplines – resulting in incomplete tasks most of the time. This is not their fault because they are juggling multiple subjects with different homework requirements. While a well-structured school homework timetable might seem like a practical solution by appearing as tangible solution of addressing students’ homework, we are well familiar with its impracticality. When works remain incomplete, students feel even more overwhelmed and academically lost, potentially resulting to withdraw their interest in learning. Such experience of negative emotions and sentiments may trigger mental health issues such as anxiety or stress.

With Saturdays off, both teachers and students will have the flexibility to schedule appointments, attend events of their own, or engage in social activities that might otherwise be challenging during a typical school day. This will contrast with the current trend where teachers use their casual leave on Saturdays while other civil servants derive dividends of fully paid weekends. For students, this time off can be used to pursue extracurricular interests, participate in community service, or simply relax and refresh. Overall, such educational arrangement may enable a more balanced and adaptable learning environment that supports the diverse needs and interests of both teachers and students.    

Studies have begun to evidence that keeping long weekends contributes to more efficiency, happier employees, lesser turnover rates, and inviting more people to apply for the work. We cannot overlook such possibility in our context as well, especially when we are experiencing significant teacher attrition. Perhaps, more than a salary hike, who knows, this option could be one noble approach to retain experienced teachers and attract enthusiastic individuals to join the teaching profession. 

 

What is Happening in Our Schools on Saturdays?                                                

During the 19th National Education Conference (NEC), the then-Ministry of Education advised schools not to hold classes on Saturdays and instead use them for Professional Development (PD) programmes and extracurricular activities. This resolution also implied that students would take leave while teachers engage in PD activities. However, the notification stirred a sea of confusion, including those conference attendees, about whether Saturdays should be part of the school week. Consequently, many interpreted the notification as optional, leaving it up to school Principals to decide the fate of Saturdays at their respective school. The ambiguity and the side-effect of a resolution endorsed through a show of hands have resulted in some schools observing Saturdays as PD day while others remained closed.

The 19th NEC also endorsed a resolution requiring every teacher to attend 80 hours of PD, of which 40 hours will be provided by the Ministry, 20 hours by the District, and 20 hours by the schools. However, not only is achievement of this resolution largely questionable, but the way our education leaders and school managers conceptualise and organise PD is appalling.

By OECD definition, PD programmes are engagements that offers teachers learning opportunities to enhance their knowledge, skills, and pedagogical practices. Ironically, PD courses in our schools often end-up doing mundane school chores such as result analysis, developing test blueprint, or assigning inchargeships, just to meet the school's 20-hour PD requirement. 

Although teachers make up a significant component of our civil service, the cost of delivering PD programs for them may be relatively frugal than in other sectors. This is because, PDs for teachers are largely held within or nearby schools, accessing school mess targeted to reduce financial implications.

If Saturdays are to be utilised effectively, PDs should offer unique and engaging learning opportunities, rather than organising to satisfy the quota of required PD hours. Conducting PDs in new environments, (not necessarily in high-end hotels as other sectors do), may add an element of novelty and excitement for teachers, breaking the monotony of workshops in familiar settings. Even if it falls on Saturdays, such a shift may boost teachers’ motivation and engagement, making them feel valued and fostering a growth mindset. Recognising teachers’ contribution and giving authentic opportunities for PD may result in a more favourable attitude towards PD, thereby inspiring them to implement novel ideas, renew their energy, and contribute to their overall well-being and professional growth. Again, such simple scheme may contribute to limiting the alarming rate of teacher attrition.

In boarding schools, Saturdays hardly qualify as weekends.  For example, a teacher-on-duty (TOD) responsible for running the school throughout the day must remain on campus. The associated hazards and vulnerabilities of students’ that may endanger their safety and wellbeing are often interpreted as TOD’s accountability, necessitating TODs being in the schools throughout the day.  

The list of tasks teachers perform in schools on Saturdays may vary depending on different contexts. These includes the type of school (boarding/day-school; remote/urban), the amount of teachers (excess/shortage), school managers (myopic/ farsighted) and of course, kind of non-curricular activities (e.g., games and sports, scouting, agriculture, clubs, house competitions) held on Saturdays.  

Looking Beyond the Grades

As a student who fairly achieved commendable academic performance, I always had the conviction that test and exam results served as essential metrics for assessing students’ calibre and predicting their future success. I nurtured this belief because whenever my teachers quoted an example of high-performing students, my name was often declared loudly. These traditions of celebration in my schools always made me feel recognised and successful, resulting in increased pride for both my teachers and me. 

 

My long experience of being an academic high-achiever also ushered me through a myriad of responsibilities, including the need to continually strive for excellence and uphold a steady if not better calibre of performance throughout other grades. I was always mindful that failing to meet those expectations could engender disappointment in my teachers and parents, and trigger emotional turbulence for me, especially if others clutch my esteemed position. 

 

However, I had a notable shift in the paradigm of my perspective after I was unable to perform well during a high-stake Year 12 public exam, which unfortunately served as an entrance ticket to the labour market. This devastating experience prompted me to redefine my outlook on the role of exams in gauging student success. Subsequently, my transition into a teaching role for over a decade until my resignation in 2020, profoundly reshaped my beliefs, instilling a polar opposite perspective. It became evident to me that regarding exam performance as an exclusive factor to associate student success and lavishly worshipping it was a narrow viewpoint.  

 

Consequently, whenever discussions including in the school settings emerge regarding the declaration of students’ exam results publicly, I consistently advocate for a more nuanced perspective. I maintained this stance, particularly given the recent trends among our schools, school assessment institutions, and significant stakeholders who have surprisingly grown interested in mushrooming a tradition of glorifying academic toppers with overwhelming worship in public domains like social media. 

 

It is one thing to celebrate academic achievements in public domains, but it is quite another to embrace a holistic approach to recognising and appreciating the diverse talents of individual students. Therefore, a broader, supportive, and inclusive platform that acknowledges and values various forms of achievement and potential evident throughout students’ journey of learning is rather praiseworthy for celebrating the overall well-being and development of students. By steering such actions, we are intentionally preventing practices that could unintentionally marginalise or negatively impact those who may not have excelled academically. 

 

In this article, I offer my views from both perspectives: why it might be and why it might not be a good practice to venerate exam results in public domains. I address each perspective in turn. But before delving into that, I discuss why examinations are firstly inherently unfair, and therefore, celebrating students’ examination results, within or among schools, extravagantly in the public domain may entail more drawbacks than commonly perceived benefits. 

 

Why are exams inherently unfair? 

 

My assertion that exams are inherently unfair is grounded based on my understanding and experience particularly following my Year 12 public exam result. I have observed that there are other factors beyond student’s understanding of the subject matter that leads to this unfair advantage.

 

For example, variables such as socioeconomic background (e.g., high/low-income), school setting (e.g., urban, remote), school leadership qualities (e.g., visionary, supportive), equitable educational resources (e.g., adequate, and experienced teachers, internet and computers, library, student support services), and most importantly individual learning styles (e.g., test-taking skills, mental health), to name a few, significantly influence students’ performance in examinations. An inherent bias and inequalities in these things create an uneven playing field and the validity of exams as a reliable measure of academic proficiency remains questionable.

 

Talking about comparing examination performances at the inter-level school, my friends who attended a well-facilitated and academically renowned school, having a visionary school principal and seasoned teachers excelled significantly in the Year 12 public exam compared to us, who studied in a newly upgraded higher secondary school that lacked essential resources. Even after two decades today, my friends and I can vividly recall how months passed without any physics teacher until a seemingly inexperienced expatriate joined us mid-year, only to annoy us (especially myself after he hated me for asking questions) by telling us to memorise physics derivations. We can also recollect how our batch was denied electricity in the hostel to study after 9:00 PM, and how wardens confiscated and destroyed our study lanterns. In such scenarios, the only common factor between me and my counterparts studying in other schools was following the same textbook or curriculum, and nothing else.

Somewhere we have ICTised schools. Somewhere we have hostel-less schools (Source:BBS)

My Year 12 marksheet where I just scrapped a passing grade (pass mark 45) 

At the personal level, I have identified that examinations occur like a game of luck, where outcomes depend on how precisely a student prepares for the specific content included in the exam. Those fortunate are the ones who prepare to encounter the contents they studied, resulting in a laudable outcome. Unlucky are those who have diligently put in an effort but only face questions unrelated to their study material, resulting in subpar performances. 

In situations like these days where exam scores hold utmost importance, arguably, exams often develop into avenues that reward rote memorisation, allowing students to excel without a profound understanding of the subject, if they can reproduce textbook content. Additionally, I have also observed some of my friends who are more or equally competent but often experience heightened anxiety during tests and exams, resulting in low performances regardless of their understanding of the content.  

That is why I say exams are mostly a matter of luck . At least in the college, I was the recipient of the certificate of excellence - a recognition for outstanding academic performance 

 

Alternatively, neither do I remember using my character certificate nor I  recall anyone asking about the qualities that comprehensively reflect my behaviour, conduct, attitude, and achievements 😜  

Why it might be a good practice to glorify exam results?  

 

The hype surrounding the public celebration of exam results of high achievers reflects the enthusiastic way of promoting educational achievements and recognising academic talents in today’s society. 

 

I agree that when academic high achievers are celebrated and their exemplary performances are woven as success stories, it demonstrates the well-deserved recognition of their resilience, dedication, and academic focus. Celebrating top-performing students is not only about rewarding individual talent but also an approach to motivating other academically struggling counterparts to pursue academic excellence. As is typical for humans, there is a natural inclination for low performers to seek the best as a source of inspiration and role model, fostering a culture of ambition and reshaping their academic commitment. 

 

In addition, the adoption of such practices both at the school and national level clearly communicates the primary purpose of the school in recognising and nurturing a culture of academic excellence, encouraging students to strive for their best in their educational journey. That is, glorifying exam results signals how schools prioritise the quantification of academic excellence more significantly than other forms of student achievements. 

 

Without limiting to private schools, what is surprising is that, nowadays even government schools showcase exam accomplishments on public platforms – eyeing to elevate their positive image and draw admission of high-calibre students. However, what we fail to realise is that, this practice perpetuates a focus on highlighting only high-performing schools and neglecting the need to support the low-performing schools that are knowingly disadvantaged due to inequitable educational resources. When school reputations surge based on exam performances, it becomes a significant factor for parents and students to perceive this achievement as tangible evidence of the school’s potential to foster academic success. 

 

Why it might NOT be a good practice to glorify exam results? 

 

My intention here is not to argue against the idea of glorifying student’s exam results in the public domain. As stated earlier, there are always two sides to consider. For example, on the one hand, we claim to promote an inclusive and more holistic approach in student assessments, while on the other hand, we ritualise practices that impose limitations in appreciating diverse forms of intelligence and learning styles. And in the case of glorifying exam results publicly across various platforms, I believe the drawbacks might outweigh the commonly perceived benefits. 

 

I share these opinions drawing from my personal experiences and supplement them briefly with concepts from sociological theories that are relevant to the present phenomenon. 

 

So, why it might not be a good practice to celebrate exam results publicly? 

 

To begin with, even if we do not explicitly mention it, too much hype and glorification of academic performances of a few high achievers can be seen as endorsing the practice of labelling and stereotyping a broader section of students. Notwithstanding that our world is already saturated with categorisations, deliberately publicising the academic accomplishment of the few results in imposing additional societal judgment and classification of students, overlooking the varied spectrum of human potential and intelligence. Consequently, this practice may cultivate a sense of failure or inadequacy among those who, for some reasons, do not perform well. On the other hand, over-emphasising top-performers could also subject them to an unwarranted pressure to consistently maintain or surpass their high grades.

 

Goffman’s (1959) idea of Social Self in his work, The Presentation of the Self in Everyday Life becomes highly relevant. Erving Goffman introduced the concept of dramaturgy by comparing social interactions to a theoretical performance, where individuals play various roles in different social settings and engage in impression management to present a desired image. In impression management, individuals strategically shape their public image to influence how others perceive them by consciously aligning with the social norms and expectations. He uses the terms, frontstage and backstage. The front stage is where individuals show manipulated behaviour (impressions) to conform to social norms and expectations. The backstage is where individuals are more authentic, revealing behaviour that align with their true self. 

 

I draw connections between Goffman’s (1959) social self and real-life situations happening in our schools with high-and low achievers. On the front stage, high-achievers feels pressurised to project positive and high-achieving image as the academic finest. They use impression management by showing active class participation and presenting the image of diligence, resilience, and success. On the backstage, they reflect on the expectations imposed by others (e.g., school, parents, community) and understand how they hide from others to safeguard their front stage image despite any moments of vulnerability or stress. Conversely, low achievers may encounter social challenges on the front stage. Consequently, to gain social acceptance, they employ impression management by using strategies to downplay or mask their challenges and seek alternatives such as by highlighting that they are good at (e.g., non-academic strengths).

 

Humans are inherently emotional beings. That is, emotions play significant role in shaping our thoughts, behaviour, and interpersonal relationships – influencing overall aspects of our nature and existence. Sociologists such as Charles Cooley (1922) in his work Human Nature and the Social Order state that emotions arise from both inner and outer human life when he asserts: “we live in the minds of others without knowing it” (p. 208). Illustrated by his notion of looking glass-self, Cooley describe how one’s self or social identity is influenced by how one appears to others: “Each to each a looking-glass reflects the other that doth pass” (p. 184). Cooley also indicates that both self and social processes influence crucial self-feeling emotions (e.g., pride and shame) as they are “the mainspring of endeavour and a chief interest of the imagination throughout life” (Cooley, 1922, p. 208). 

 

Sociologists argue that emotions such as shame and the opposite, pride, manifest in academic learning, even though they may not be overtly visible (Holodynski & Kronast, 2009).  In our context, dominantly influenced by the Buddhist precepts, emotions are regarded as painful because they cause suffering (Khyentse, 2007) and therefore they are rarely or not openly expressed. 

In Scheff’s (1990, 1997) social bond theory, he considers that shame is  social emotion that results from observing one’s actions while looking at oneself through the eyes of others. That is, shame is a signal that indicates one feeling rejected and unaccepted in the way that we are. 

Similarly, Collins (2004) states that shame is felt by the individual when they are depleted by the group. Thus, when we create a perception of elitism within the school community by exclusively valuing academic top performers, it may impose shame, embarrassment, and anger for low achievers, and potentially diminish their sense of worth. 

Retzinger (1991) outlines several indicators of shame and anger, encompassing both verbal and paralinguistic cues. Verbal markers consists of expressions such as alienation, withdrawal, inhibition, disconnection, and defensiveness. Paralinguistic markers involve vocal withdrawal, hesitation, silence, and self-interruption. However, as society suppresses shame, it leads to a collective denial and silence, which reduces the visibility of shame in nearly every social context (Scheff, 2000). 

 

Considering these theoretical perspectives, perhaps, schools must strive to manifest as a dynamic educational space, offering adolescence opportunities for intellectual growth and development, even if it is through experimentation and error. It is crucial to recognise schools as nurturing environment for learning rather than as pressure cauldron by imposing undue stress on young minds during their formative age through competition. 

 

We must accept that all these calibrations – success or failure, good or bad, and high or low are merely a subjective human interpretations within the intricate tapestry of life, which are always questionable. The undeniable truth is, talent does not discriminate, people do. 

 

 

Scope for Research 

For those enthusiastic in investigating students’ perspectives on the traditions of glorifying their academic results in public domains, specifically on social media, research could involve both high achieving students and those who could not fare to well.  Given the scarcity of sociological theories originating from Eastern traditions, it is valuable to investigate the suitability of Western theories in our context. The findings can be offered as a novel contribution to the research in education and assessment scholarship by generating conforming and disconfirming evidences. 

References: 

Holodynski, M., & Kronast, S. (2009). Shame and pride: Invisible emotions in classroom research. In B.Ro ̈ttger-Ro ̈ssler & H. J. Markowitsch (Eds.), Emotions as bio-cultural processes (pp. 371-394). Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-0-387-09546-2_17

Khyentse, D. J. (2007). What makes you not a buddhist. Shambhala Publications. 

Retzinger, S. M. (1991). Shame, anger, and conflict: Case study of emotional violence. Journal of Family Violence, 6(1), 37-59. 

Scheff, T. (1990). Microsociology: Discourse, emotion, and social structure. The University of Chicago Press. 

Scheff, T. (1997). Emotions, the social bond, and human reality. Cambridge University Press. 

Scheff, T. (2000). Shame and the social bond: A sociological theory. Sociological Theory, 18(1), 84-99.