On Thursdays Chun-chun receives the most "diverse" language tuition. Studying in the early morning he and his classmates loudly recite Hakka children's folk rhymes following the example of their language teacher: "Under a brilliant moon the scholar rides his white steed past the lotus pond." They also sing the song "Being Hakka": "When the Chinese arrived in Taiwan, they were poor and had to work hard in the fields for everything they gained." Then it's time for Mandarin Chinese class as the students enunciate the sounds £t (bo), £u (po), £v (mo) and write Chinese characters. Later still it's English class, where Chun-chun becomes "Olly" and it's time to study A, B, C.

As if this wasn't enough, on Fridays Chun-chun attends a Taiwanese language class where they recite the doggerel: "Eat guava and out come bullets, eat pomelo and out come dried shrimps, eat longans and out come mushrooms, marrying a wife is the best of all." Today £t becomes b, £u p and £v m.

The question is whether children in the first year of elementary school are really able to take all this in. Aren't they more likely to become mixed up and confused? Despite his mother's doubts, Chun-chun doesn't seem to give it a second thought. One day he proudly informed her he now has four different names, in Mandarin, Taiwanese, Hakka and English.

Local languages

The range of language classes studied by first-year elementary school students in Taipei City may surprise many. But below the surface there are concerns, and many worry how a generation educated according to the demands of localization and internationalization will turn out.

Local Language classes are compulsory for the first six grades of elementary school, but regulations stipulate that examinations and evaluations are not required. Unfortunately, the different attitudes of schools and teachers mean that some children experience the current state of affairs as a nightmare of remorseless pressure.

It has been reported in local newspapers that one child in Taipei City was continually corrected and made to stand up in class by his Taiwanese language teacher for speaking with an "Ilan accent." Another child unable to pronounce the word cow in Chinese was told he was "as stupid as a cow" and informed "If you can't speak Taiwanese properly then you just aren't Taiwanese."

Some children like Chao Chiao, a third-grade student at Chungshan elementary school in Taoyuan, have no problems simultaneously learning several "mother tongues." As well as studying Taiwanese she has also chosen to take classes in Hakka, even though neither of her parents speak it. Chao loves reciting folk rhymes and singing and from time to time uses a few words of Hakka to test her mother.

On the other hand, Chang Chen, who is an elementary school sixth grader, hates Local Language classes and informed his teacher that as a Hakka he didn't want to learn Taiwanese. Mrs. Chang, a Hakka herself and fluent in Hakka, Mandarin and Taiwanese, says she chooses to speak Hakka because it is her mother tongue. She started to learn Mandarin at school and became fluent in Taiwanese as a child, watching traditional puppet theater and Taiwanese opera. Today children grow up in a completely different world and she admits to being unable to understand the Taiwanese language textbooks they learn from, never mind how to teach from them. Because her son dislikes learning Taiwanese, it is the only class in which he gets a "B," but his mom doesn't mind about the grade.

Liang Chen is a seventh-grader and similarly not interested in studying Taiwanese. "A-Ming, your house is on fire. Come home quickly!" This is a sentence she was taught by her Taiwanese language teacher, but she complains to her mother: "When am I ever going to use that?" Mrs. Liang recalls that when her daughter was at elementary school she once took part in a Hakka speaking competition, working hard to remember her lines, and came second, but today she can't remember a word of Hakka.

Despite these obvious problems it may well be the case that poor results due to a less than ideal learning environment are the least of our worries. Some schools or teachers use romanization to teach local languages and insist on examinations, an extremely unpleasant experience for those children who have no interest and perhaps tend to mix the different languages together. Indeed, it is only to be expected that elementary school students will get confused when they are asked to learn several languages simultaneously, using Mandarin phonetic symbols to learn English and romanization to learn Taiwanese and Hakka.

International languages

How local languages are taught is the responsibility of the school, but parents seem to be uninterested in the results as long as their children don't complain or reject the classes out of hand. By way of contrast, the importance of improving English language ability is something on which the Ministry of Education, schools and parents completely concur. Related measures are if anything being accelerated.

The very first item discussed in the "Challenge 2008" national development plan is the need to cultivate E-generation talent. The plan points out in clear language that it is essential for people to be able to adapt to the changes and challenges brought by increasing globalization and internationalization. It also stresses the importance of creating in Taiwan an international environment and the conditions for lifelong learning for everyone.

More recently, the use of foreign languages, especially English, and training in Internet communications skills, have become the focal points of the plan. With English already viewed as the optimal tool for being part of the international community, the government intends to raise its profile to that of a semi-official language within six years and actively expand the number of areas where English is habitually used. The aim is to ensure it becomes a greater part of daily life in Taiwan.

In accordance with stipulations contained in the "Provisional Outline of the Nine-Year Curriculum for Elementary and Junior High Schools," fifth and sixth graders started to receive tuition in English in the academic year beginning in 2001, though many cities and counties introduced related programs ahead of time.

Wu Tsai-shun, who heads the department of elementary and junior high school education at the Ministry of Education, recently stated: "Children should speak their mother tongue at home and they will also learn Mandarin Chinese when they start attending kindergarten, but they can only start to learn a foreign language in the third grade of elementary school. If we ask them to study all three at once children would be exhausted before their education even got started." Despite this opinion, the central government has been unable to stop city and county governments from introducing English as a subject ever earlier. In the cities of Taipei and Hsinchu and the counties of Taichung, Changhua, Nantou, Tainan, Taitung and Lienchiang, English classes were introduced for students in the first year of elementary school from 2002.

The importance attached to the learning of English by the ROC government and policy changes adopted by it have served to promote an English craze that is sweeping across Taiwan.

The television has recently been full of advertisements in which children answer the telephone or give speeches in fluent English, images that have many parents very excited, envious and determined to ensure their children do just as well.

According to the "2001 Survey of Child Life Situations in Taiwan and Fukien" a total of 33% of children attending cram schools are studying foreign languages. The "Survey of English Learning by Pre-School Children" conducted by the Child Welfare League Foundation in 2002 indicates that over 85% of parents believe it is necessary for children to study English before they start school, and more than 60% of children surveyed had in fact studied English before attending school. The main reason given for this phenomenon was the concern of parents that their children will be left behind if they don't start classes as soon as possible.

Many parents have invested heavily in the futures of their children in order to give them the best possible future. Su Tsu-hua spent NT$700,000 to ensure her son had a solid foundation in English by attending an all-English kindergarten for three years. During the summer vacation after the third and fourth grades at elementary school, she spent another NT$300,000-400,000 taking her son to the US where he attended a short summer course. After investing so much, Su professes herself satisfied with the results. Her son passed the elementary level of the General English Proficiency Test in the fifth grade, and Su says proudly: "He now has the confidence to speak English."

The English cram school attended by elementary school fifth grader Chiang Tsai-chen prefers to not use textbooks and requires parents to turn off their cell phones and observe classes. If a parent's phone rings during class the child is punished. However busy she is, Mrs. Chiang always makes time to read English with her daughter.

Sentimental localization?

Many parents have clearly already made their own choice about the relative importance of localization and internationalization. Is it the case that by choosing English over local languages, these parents show they lack a sufficient sense of local consciousness or affection for their own country?

In fact, the rise in local consciousness over the last few years has not only spawned a plethora of language teaching materials, but has also led to the complete revision of textbooks in other subjects too.

Taipei City director of education Wu Ching-ji points out that in the past textbooks were more "traditional" in nature, so children understood about Shanghai and Beijing but knew little about the towns and countryside where they lived. In recent years this approach has been replaced with the promotion of "Local Studies," including local languages, culture, art, geography, ecology, nature, etc. By encouraging children to know where they live, experience first-hand their immediate environment and recognize the beauty of Taiwan, it is hoped to promote local consciousness based on awareness of and affection for things local. Wu points out that the teaching of one's mother tongue is just one element. It is also a single method, process and strategy on the road to heightened local consciousness.

Lin Ku-fang, director of the graduate institute of arts at Fo Guang University, makes the point that using one's mother tongue springs from a natural emotional link to a locality and its history. It shouldn't be blown up out of proportion, and there is no need for special classes to teach it.

Others have questioned whether local language education has turned into an ideological tool utilized by the state, and suggested that in the long run its use as a political tool will undermine the learning of local languages. A survey showing the reactions of parents and children to the learning of local languages indicates that the effectiveness of compulsory classes has been limited.

In recent years Taiwan has been keen both to promote enhanced local consciousness and to encourage greater international participation.

The question has to be whether internationalization is in fact the same thing as being taught foreign languages?

The "Taipei City White Paper on International Education Exchange" points out that surveys of international competitiveness conducted by the IMD in Switzerland use "degree of internationalization" as one of the eight factors evaluated. It is noted that Taiwan's ranking in this section is consistently lower than that for overall national competitiveness. Wu Ching-ji believes that one reason Taiwan is considered insufficiently international is the lack of individuals fluent in foreign languages at local enterprises.

As to whether learning English in the first year at elementary school is too early, Wu emphasizes that for Taipei, as the capital of Taiwan and its most international city, the cultivation of English language ability is extremely important. He indicates that the language policy promoted by the city's Department of Education has "one core and two simultaneous focuses" in that it is based on the study of Mandarin Chinese but with special importance attached to the learning of both local and foreign languages.

Lin Ku-fang suggests: "Few developed or developing countries have been influenced by English or the US like Taiwan." But he questions whether being able to speak good English necessarily implies a country is highly internationalized. For example, the debate on internationalization in Taiwan is rarely for the purpose of understanding different cultures or to expand one's horizons, because few people have either an international outlook or international ambitions. It is true that in the minds of the population, internationalization is linked to Taiwan's future trade role, economic development and especially an urgent need to join the mainstream trade system following WTO accession.

Many people seem to feel that learning English is all it takes to be international or that such studies mark the first step on the road to internationalization. In fact, from another perspective, recognizing only English actually weakens international vision, turning Taiwan into an appendage of the global mainstream.

The obsession with English

Lin Ku-fang says: "To see the results of an obsession with English we need only look at Japan." Despite the fact its level of proficiency in English is not highly regarded, Japan is undeniably more international than Taiwan. Japanese business associations establish branches in countries with trade potential and even employ foreigners to serve as managers. Enterprises use international negotiations and mergers to identify business opportunities. One example is the way in which Renault's effective takeover of Nissan has given the company a new lease of life.

After nearly two years without writing a critical comment about current affairs, Professor Ho Huai-shuo of the fine arts department at Taipei National University of the Arts, last month felt compelled to put pen to paper, declaring: "This is a big problem with huge implications. I have to speak out."

As part of an article posted in the commentary page of a local newspaper Ho discussed the absurdity of the craze for English: "Many people in Taiwan believe that by learning English they will somehow receive a free pass onto the world stage and that it will enhance Taiwan's competitiveness. However, by spending more time learning English than Chinese, a child's ability in his or her mother tongue declines and competitiveness can only worsen not improve."

Ho argues that most people see only material gain and narrow issues, which convince them that learning English will improve competitiveness. Thus they fail to see that at its heart competitiveness is based on creativity, and when a person's ability in his or her own language declines they lack a fertile environment for ideas and originality is lost.

Ho Huai-shuo is adamant that only colonies and backward countries need everyone to learn English. He points out that most people can access the knowledge of different cultures through their own language using translators. There is therefore no need to spend so much time and effort learning the languages of different countries. He offers the example of Japan, whose people he suggests are creative not because they can speak English but because they have, through translation, absorbed much from overseas. Lin Ku-fang also believes that cultivating experts in the field of international trade is much more important than the whole country studying English and everybody being able to speak one or two largely meaningless sentences.

In fact, the heavy emphasis on both the local and the international has inevitably come at the expense of Chinese, causing some to worry seriously that the "soil in which ideas survive" is being impoverished.

Ho elaborates on his earlier point: "Language is thought. A people without their own ideas cannot have their own culture. How then can we discuss competitiveness?" Generally children only start to learn foreign languages after the fifth grade in the US. If we allow children to learn English before they have a proper grasp of Chinese our cultural development and creativity will come to a standstill. At the same time, culturally distinct traditions inherited from China, that are thousands of years old, will disappear and we will find it impossible to develop our own autonomous culture.

Lin Ku-fang believes that language refers to reading ability and therefore provides access to ancient books and traditional culture: "One of the reasons the literati in Taiwan are so well respected today is that we have more of a connection to tradition than mainland Chinese literati. If not for this trait Taiwan would be nothing more than "a small part of the eastern sea" with no distinctive characteristics."

Taiwanese lemmings

The English craze could of course be just another fad like that for Portuguese egg tarts a few years ago. When people were crazily queuing up to buy tarts it was almost as if those who failed would become social outcasts. Today with everyone learning English a similar phenomena can be observed. Lin Ku-fang calls this "the psychology of the lemming."

It is said every three to four years millions of lemmings on the Scandinavian Peninsula jump into the sea in acts of collective suicide. Originally it was though this behavior could be explained by genetic programming, but research then revealed a high level of correlation between the number of lemmings and the timing of the group suicides. Further work indicated that this was the product of "social psychology." When lemming population density reached a certain level they became restless with anxiety, so that if one of them deliberately or accidentally fell into the sea others would follow suit.

Taiwan is a society of lemmings following others blindly and irrationally. In the wake of this tide of localization and internationalization many parents have clearly taken a stand on the basis of practical considerations, choosing to favor English over local languages. In this climate much more attention needs to be paid to what, if anything, children get from localization and internationalization other than a full study timetable. Do they experience conflicts and contradictions or do the two complement each other?

Lin Ku-fang points out: "When a person is divided into two unrelated parts, as well as increasing the psychological burden this also serves as an obstacle to identity." People in Taiwan have chosen to search for identity in narrowly defined localism and abstract internationalism, and not altogether surprisingly they come away empty handed.

Lin likens a person's identity to a series of concentric circles. The central circle represents the feelings an individual has for the place he or she was born and grew up. The next circle relates to cultural belonging and only then does the individual become more international. Today education addresses only slightly, if at all, the issue of cultural belonging. The result of eliminating the middle circle is an increasingly large disparity between things local and international.

Lin insists: "Localization is very well intentioned but lacking in depth, so that when it collides or is mixed with powerful Western cultures, it has absolutely no chance of holding its own, nor space in which to develop."

Ho Huai-shuo says: "In the past Chinese culture was in our hands as mainland China set about destroying it; today they are working hard to make improvements and we are discarding it like a pair of worn-out shoes." He pointedly asks: "Where are the real educationalists?"

Lin suggests: "At present the discussion on localization is all about emotion without recognizing its limits, while discussion of internationalization irrationally emphasizes its inevitability." He believes that future society will emphasize cultural subjectivity even more, so excessive involvement could well result in a situation similar to that when traditional society started to modernize, throwing out everything with the change. Ho notes: "Those who think they can reach the heights of modernity first will ultimately regret their rashness."

If the emphasis on localization is just a sign of emotional identity, then the pursuit of internationalization expresses anxieties about future development. In that case it is difficult to see in the children of Taiwan, who currently find themselves on the road to localization and internationalization, any real emotional attachment to things local, though anxieties about learning English are already evident. As for how to return the focus to the Chinese that is central to our culture, that is another topic in itself.

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As part of the pursuit of globalization, children in Taiwan are being taught English at an increasingly young age. In the 2002 academic year eight counties and cities began teaching first year elementary school students English.

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With the assistance of a series of publicly organized events and the encouragement of privately operated cram schools, the craze for children learning English has swept across Taiwan.

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Jasper, a first year elementary school student, writes diary entries in English each day. His aim is to speak English as proficiently as a native speaker.

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In recent years local education has chosen to focus on things more close to home, as a way of making sure children understand the beauty of the place in which they live, starting with their immediate environment.

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Even parents would have trouble understanding the "mother tongue" teachers write on their blackboards, are children any more likely to grasp what they are being taught?

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How are children born on an island as small as Taiwan to develop a more international view of the world? Learning English is just part of the answer.

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Many things can be repeated but childhood is not one of them; many things can be waited for but not education. In this turmoil and confusion it has to be asked what sort of people the current generation of children will grow up to be?