One of the biggest surprises, and ultimately disappointing factors of teaching in Italy was the undue emphasis placed upon the oral component of the student's exam, and consequent passing or lack thereof.
What was most troubling, and it was rehearsed again while teaching in Belgium some years later, is that this aspect is so hard to criticize and therefor feels almost watertight, yet is so porous and disastrous to actually learning. But, as I learned myself, if you are going to teach in Europe, you better be prepared for the ritual of the orals.
Hmmm...it sounded kinky at best, perverted at worst. As an educational tool, this is one of the most controversial in my mind, but the Italian system is absolutely grounded upon it. The problem? They are all so well coached that they can make you believe that they actually are answering the question.
I taught in Forli for the most part, a sub-section of the University of Bologna, and every day that I would walk from the train station to the the campus building, I would pass several buildings from the Fascist era, and which were hardly veiled or re-configured because Forlì was a place where Mussolini was still highly revered with black t-shirt clad youths going to his grave every Sunday in the nearby cemetery to mourn Italy's loss. It goes on today.
So, I would walk the mile or so from the train station and pass at least three of four major Fascist works of architecture and then go teach. The strange part of it is that the Oral, to me, at least, was the remnant of such times because you are encouraged to reproduce a coded (linguistically charged) message that is congruent with your comrades, in this case, your fellow students.
This, as an a American, was weird for me to say the least. In a very short time, I became both pariah and savior because of my approach to the orals. After the spiel that was delivered that every student had memorized, I then asked a different question to each student, in order to "go further" with the conversation. About a third just met me with a blank stare and left. Another third seemed offended that their perfectly rehearsed answer about Hemingway's time in Paris or Eliot's poetry was not acceptable to me for granting them the laurel wreaths of literature, and then there was the final third, of which was likewise broken down to thirds, more or less.
One third was offended and pissed off and threatened me with going to the "higher powers" to make sure there were no deviations from the norm.
Another third was intrigued, but sadly, soon enough exposed themselves to know so very little beyond their rehearsed answers that it was painful to give them lower marks, though I did, to merely say, thanks for playing the game.
The final third, which can always be rarefied into another tri-fold division ad infinitum, were the kids that realized, okay, I passed by the simpleton American that I can memorize, but then they were intrigued and we actually had a good conversation about the works, or about their own station in life, or whatnot. As I say, fractally speaking, we can always take it a further step, to break it down one more level. The coast of Britain shall never be measured if you take each stone and pebble and grain of sand, one by one, but you will get a good approximation. For me, taking those kids to a level beyond mere regurgitation was the key.
What was most troubling, and it was rehearsed again while teaching in Belgium some years later, is that this aspect is so hard to criticize and therefor feels almost watertight, yet is so porous and disastrous to actually learning. But, as I learned myself, if you are going to teach in Europe, you better be prepared for the ritual of the orals.
Hmmm...it sounded kinky at best, perverted at worst. As an educational tool, this is one of the most controversial in my mind, but the Italian system is absolutely grounded upon it. The problem? They are all so well coached that they can make you believe that they actually are answering the question.
I taught in Forli for the most part, a sub-section of the University of Bologna, and every day that I would walk from the train station to the the campus building, I would pass several buildings from the Fascist era, and which were hardly veiled or re-configured because Forlì was a place where Mussolini was still highly revered with black t-shirt clad youths going to his grave every Sunday in the nearby cemetery to mourn Italy's loss. It goes on today.
So, I would walk the mile or so from the train station and pass at least three of four major Fascist works of architecture and then go teach. The strange part of it is that the Oral, to me, at least, was the remnant of such times because you are encouraged to reproduce a coded (linguistically charged) message that is congruent with your comrades, in this case, your fellow students.
This, as an a American, was weird for me to say the least. In a very short time, I became both pariah and savior because of my approach to the orals. After the spiel that was delivered that every student had memorized, I then asked a different question to each student, in order to "go further" with the conversation. About a third just met me with a blank stare and left. Another third seemed offended that their perfectly rehearsed answer about Hemingway's time in Paris or Eliot's poetry was not acceptable to me for granting them the laurel wreaths of literature, and then there was the final third, of which was likewise broken down to thirds, more or less.
One third was offended and pissed off and threatened me with going to the "higher powers" to make sure there were no deviations from the norm.
Another third was intrigued, but sadly, soon enough exposed themselves to know so very little beyond their rehearsed answers that it was painful to give them lower marks, though I did, to merely say, thanks for playing the game.
The final third, which can always be rarefied into another tri-fold division ad infinitum, were the kids that realized, okay, I passed by the simpleton American that I can memorize, but then they were intrigued and we actually had a good conversation about the works, or about their own station in life, or whatnot. As I say, fractally speaking, we can always take it a further step, to break it down one more level. The coast of Britain shall never be measured if you take each stone and pebble and grain of sand, one by one, but you will get a good approximation. For me, taking those kids to a level beyond mere regurgitation was the key.
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