Tag Archives: Italian education

An Italian Middle School

Rossella’s middle school experience is no pleasure to think back on; in short: it was a mess. As I mentioned in my article about elementary school, we had thought that Ross was getting bad grades in elementary because she was bored, so we chose a challenging middle school, Milan’s grandly-named Educandato Statale Setti Carraro dalla Chiesa. It had been founded as a boarding school for the daughters of Napoleon’s officers (hence the old name, “Collegio delle Fanciulle” – girls’ boarding school – by which it is still known by many). Nowadays it’s a public school, but still housed in a beautiful old palazzoin the center of Milan. Well, beautiful for a school. The conte who built it had ambitions that far outran his cash, so after building this huge place he had little money left for the interiors. There is a lot of tromp l’oeil marble, as well as interesting ceiling frescoes in some classrooms, and several statues of Napoleon.

I don’t know how long ago it became public, but the school to this day runs by its own rules. Unlike most public schools, it is academically selective; Ross got in by being personally recommended by two alumni. It is also “integrated,” meaning that all grade levels are housed in a single facility with a single administration; this, too, is unusual. And it’s not fully co-ed: the school admits a few boys in the elementary school, but in middle school no new boys can enter (the school claims not to have the facilities for them), and there are no boys in high school at all. There are only four or five boys at each middle-school grade level, kept together in one class section; Ross ended up in the section with no boys at all. Which was probably all to the good: those few boys get way too much attention, and some of them come out with grossly swelled heads. A friend of Ross’, a boy one year older, happened to go to the same school, and Ross’ prior acquaintance with him was much resented by his female classmates, even though there was no romance in it.

Unusually for Italy, Setti Carraro has boarding facilities for a few students, but it’s all rather sad. Ross volunteered to stay there for two separate one-week periods, when Enrico and I both had to travel. She thought it an adventure, but the girls who were there year-round did not, and after Ross described it, I understood why. The boarding group was too small to form a community, and they didn’t have much opportunity to socialize outside of boarding, so it was a very dull life for them.

Setti Carraro prides itself on academic rigor and teacher quality. As I’ve mentioned before, it doesn’t take much to get qualified as a teacher in Italy (though that is changing), so teaching methods tend to be a combination of tradition and personal inclination. Many teachers rely heavily on rote memorization, which is easier for teachers, but not effective for many kids. Most Italian parents see nothing wrong with this, because it’s the way they learned themselves. No allowance is made for differences in learning styles or strengths.

We had attended a presentation about the school before selecting it for Ross. They told us then that the kids would be in school until 5 pm, Monday through Friday, but that lessons ended around 2:30, leaving time for a break and then study hall, so that by the time they reached home they would have no homework to do. This turned out not to be true. Some days they had classes until 4:00, and most days they came home with homework anyway. By the end of the first year, parents were protesting vigorously, but nothing changed, and we were told that this had been the pattern, year after year.

I am still trying to figure out what, exactly, “homework” means in Italy. My understanding of the term, based on experience elsewhere, is that it’s something you do on your own to reinforce or practice what you’ve learned in class. Here, however, the kids were often told to study something entirely new on their own at home, and often needed their parents’ help to absorb new material. The books were not always helpful, being written in a heavy academic style that even I found hard to follow (though I read general Italian very well). We spent hours tutoring Ross, and this is the norm for many families. I don’t know how families with multiple children are expected to cope.

Homework was also assigned for most vacations. During the summer between 6th and 7th grade, we spent several hours a day for the entire month of August helping Ross with homework, or at least trying to keep her on track to get it all done. This did not make for a relaxing vacation for anybody.

Ross’ grades continued poor through 6th grade. We hoped that, after the first year, things would settle down, she’d get into the demanding rhythm, etc. She was very conscientious about getting her homework done (and remains so to this day – one good outcome of this school), but it was never enough.

I attributed her ongoing woes to culture clashes, teaching styles, “could try harder”, whatever – grasping at straws, really. By February of her 7th grade year, I realized that there had to be something else going on. We had Ross tested by a child psychologist in Milan, and it turned out that, while extremely intelligent (no surprise there), she has some problems in concentration and memory – you could call it borderline Attention Deficit Disorder, but we didn’t bother to pursue a definitive diagnosis. The label would do her no good in the Italian education system, which barely recognizes dyslexia, let alone more “exotic” learning problems. (In the Italian press, ADD is widely reported as something that American parents invented so they could drug their children into passivity.)

This is another hole in the Italian system which makes me crazy: very few teachers have any training in recognizing or coping with learning disabilities. It’s likely that some things are overdiagnosed in the US, but many lives have been ruined by the failure of educational systems to recognize or address real problems. Ignoring learning disabilities is certainly not the answer.

I tried to explain Ross’ problem to the teachers, without much success. It was hard enough for me, motivated as I was, to figure out different ways of presenting information so that she could absorb it more effectively. Teachers with little training and no motivation weren’t likely to get far, and most of them didn’t try. In the end we all agreed that it would be best for Ross to go to a less demanding school for 8th grade.

CassiopeiaThe one area in which Ross was able to shine at Setti Carraro was acting. The best teacher they had (and she was very good) believed in drama as a form of literature, and a way of learning literature. In 6th grade, they studied Greek myths, and did a series of short plays based on myth. Everyone got at least one major role, but Ross was a particular hit as Cassiopeia, the vain queen who brings down the curse of Venus. It was also noted, and duly exploited, that she learned everyone else’s lines as well as her own – no memory problems there, interestingly. In 7th grade, they did excerpts from “Orlando Furioso,” where Ross played Sacripante, a Sancho Panza sort of character, wearing a pillow for a paunch, and stomping around in my oversized Tibetan boots.

Schoolbooks: Part of the Cost of an Italian Education

Education through university level is basically free in Italy, at least in theory. You don’t pay tuition at most schools, but there are costs, including buying textbooks every year. There is something of a used-textbook market (in the Milan area, dominated by a chain of bookstores called Il Libraccio), but the publishing companies dilute its effects by frequent new editions. The teachers play into the system by insisting on the new edition, or changing the books entirely. I wonder if they get a kickback…?

The Ministry of Education has set theoretical limits for how much a family should be required to spend per child per year. According to a consumer group, this limit is 280 euros for 6th grade (the first year of middle school), 108 euros in the second year, and 124 euros in the third – the expense is front-loaded on the first year, as some books may be used throughout the three-year cycle of middle school. This consumer advocacy  group found that 34% of the families surveyed in Rome and Milan had spent more than the ministerial limit.

The limits are naturally higher in high school. Our daughter’s choice of liceo artistico (art high school) may be the most expensive option of all: besides a full quota of books for academic subjects, there are books for art history, and the ongoing expense of art supplies.

There are no lockers in Italian schools, so whatever books and supplies you need for class each day must be carried from home, in bulky backpacks. Years ago, parents began to complain that the number of books required each day was excessive, resulting in very heavy backpacks. Pediatricians pitched in with tales of childhood back pain and scoliosis, so a decree went forth from the Ministry of Education about the maximum weight a child could be made to carry (I think it was expressed as a percentage of body weight). How this was to be enforced was never specified; it would have required coordination among the teachers to decide who would require what books to be brought on any given day. I doubt that it was ever enforced. Backpacks with built-in wheels are popular, like that rolling carryon luggage that people use on planes, but, like the luggage, they are unstable, tending to flop sideways and twist your wrist, and the wheels only make them heavier when you have to tackle stairs. Backpacks are more comfortable to carry than old-fashioned leather satchels, but older adult commuters fondly remember the satchels – the habit was to drop them on the floor by your feet, whereas backpacks stay on backs and bash into everyone around them on the bus.

From what I remember of American public schools, books were lent by the school to each student every year. Presumably this was part of the school budget, and therefore covered by the parents’ taxes. American schools also have lockers to keep books in, though you then have the problem of forgetting at school a book you need for homework. When I was looking for a school for Ross in California, I found one that had resolved that problem by giving each student two full sets of books: one for school, one for home. Must have been expensive for the taxpayers, though.

High (School) Society

In America, high school is hell. The movie The Breakfast Club (1985) used sharply-delineated characters to illustrate the social divisions that exist in many/most schools: the jock, the prom princess, the stoner, the brain, the geek. It’s a caste system, where positions are won by looks, money, or athletic ability, and the hierarchy is maintained by ostracism, teasing, and violence.

Columbine focused attention on the extreme results: the outcast loners who exacted bloody revenge. Steps have been taken to prevent recurrence; weapons searches have been instituted (in many schools, simply increased), conflict-resolution courses and post-trauma counseling are offered. Yet bad stuff continues to happen, some of it perpetrated by the top dogs on the underdogs, some of it by underdogs using weapons to shift the balance of power. The underlying problem has not changed: there are still top dogs and underdogs.

One solution being tried is separation: if you can’t survive in a normal high school, go somewhere else. The Harvey Milk School in New York city was created for gay students who were mercilessly bullied in other schools.

The New York Times (“School Away From School,” Dec 7, 2003) now reports on virtual high schools, where kids can do high school coursework at long distance, with testing, grading, and teacher support provided online. Some of the virtual school students interviewed had suffered in the high school social system, others feared what they themselves might become under social pressure. Some are simply too smart, and several grades ahead of their age group (a proven recipe for social disaster), others suffer various degrees of distraction/ADD, and find they can concentrate better at home.

Homeschooling (where the parents do the teaching themselves) is also common in the US. For some families, this is a religious choice; for some, it’s about quality (or special needs); for many, it’s probably both.

You have to wonder what the kids are missing in all of these non-standard school experiences. A fair amount of misery, to be sure. But what happens after high school, when they suddenly have to deal with all sorts of people? (Yes, I know that many homeschooling parents go to great effort to ensure that homeschooling does not cut their kids off from the usual kid experiences and contacts; I also know some whose main reason for homeschooling is to keep the kids away from “bad influences.”)

There’s got to be a better way for adolescents to get an education. I don’t have definitive answers, but I’ve been thinking hard about examples I’m familiar with from other parts of the world.

At Woodstock, tolerance was and is the norm, and violence is rare. In my four years of high school, I only heard about one incident in which a guy even tried to hit somebody. (He missed, and smashed his hand into the wall.) Severe bullying and teasing were fairly uncommon in my day, and as far as I know still are.

There are plenty of differences among Woodstock students – nationality, race, religion, wealth, background, you name it. But there’s no caste system. There are jocks, brains, prom queens, and stoners – and they’re often the same people. Maybe this is because the school is so small that we all had to fill multiple roles. My roommate was a basketball player and a cheerleader, played in band and orchestra, and worked on the yearbook. I was a journalist and public works artist, worked on the yearbook, wrote a student handbook (my first manual/user guide), and was president of the dorm. Another classmate was student body president, on several sports teams, and was a yearbook photographer. Of course we all had plenty of schoolwork to do as well. Maybe we just didn’t have time for the rubbish that goes on in American schools.

The rigid social divisions of American high schools don’t seem to exist in Italy, either. Ross tells me that there are some cooler kids, though in her current class she can’t tell me who they are or what makes them cool. Her middle-school class had an alpha male, so-considered partly because of his trendy clothing. Her current class has some kids who don’t interact much; she is studying the problem, trying to figure out how to involve them more in the social life of the class. In any case, they don’t seem to be particularly bullied or teased.

Maybe the American emphasis on competitive sports is part of the problem. Italian schools don’t do sports in the same way. They have physical education classes, and Ross’ current high school has after-school basketball, but it doesn’t seem to be a big deal. Lecco is an athletic town, and many kids do competitive sports, but elsewhere, either as individuals or with teams that are not related to the schools. So athletic ability is not particularly noticed in school.

Woodstock has plenty of sports, but, in my day, being an athlete didn’t carry more cachet than any other accomplishment. I don’t recall anybody swooning over a guy because he was captain of this or that team. Good sportsmanship was considered more important than winning (though winning was also fun).

Perhaps Woodstock and Italian schools have less strife for very different reasons. In Woodstock’s case, it’s partly due to the extreme variety among the students: there are so many differences that no single group can easily rule the roost.

What works in Italy may be homogeneity: everyone in a given school is very similar to everyone else in background and experience, and any differences are smoothed down, de-emphasized. There are no accelerated classes for extra-smart kids, and those with disabilities (physical or learning) are, as far as possible, mainstreamed into regular classes, with extra teaching support provided right there. This also applies to recent immigrants, who generally attend regular schools and lessons, with some extra help for Italian language.

So what goes wrong in American schools? I’m groping here, but maybe the problem is an intolerant heterogeneity. America is still a melting pot, but American culture demands that people fit in, and take on the same values as some fictive majority. Kids are especially conservative, and not inherently politically correct, so this is played out more overtly in school than later in life. Now there’s a scary thought: is American high school simply a microcosm of what’s going on, clandestinely, in American culture at large?

Note (Oct 7, 2010): Sadly, there have been cases of bullying at Woodstock in more recent years. And it’s all gotten much worse in the US.

English Teaching in Italian Schools

It is admirable that the Italian public school system now requires foreign-language classes (usually English) starting in first grade. Unfortunately, a shortage of teachers means that most kids don’t actually start til 3rd grade. And how much anyone really learns is very much open to question. Parents nowadays are frantic for their kids to speak English well, recognizing its importance in the world economy. They willingly pay for extra classes after school and summer study-abroad trips. Increasing numbers of kids go abroad for a high school junior year in an English-speaking country.

Part of the reason for the teacher shortage is that, at least until recently, you had to be a citizen of Italy to teach in public schools. This means that most foreign-language teachers are Italians, for whom the language they are teaching is at best a second language.

Recently, however, schools have begun to bring in “mother tongue” English speakers part-time, to give the kids exposure to native accents. I hope that this includes some American accents, as many Italians learn English from British teachers, and then have difficulty understanding Americans.

There is no flexibility in the Italian school system for a kid to test out of a subject he or she is already competent in, so Rossella has had to take English in school every year since third grade. Her Italian teachers of English have fallen into two categories: those who see Ross as a resource to be exploited for the benefit of the class, and those who feel threatened by a student who knows their subject better than they do.

Ross’ first English teacher, in elementary school, was probably the best she’s ever had. She would get Ross to tell the class stories or converse with her in English, so the other kids could hear a good accent. She even wanted to use Ross to talk in front of some older classes, but Ross was shy of the older kids.

In middle school, things were very different. There were two English-speakers in the class, Ross and an Italian girl growing up in the British Virgin Islands, where her parents own a restaurant. The English teacher was of the extremely threatened sort, who would correct the girls even when they were right. This woman’s pronunciation was epically wrong, including such gems as: “In England, it is traditional to eat a bowl of soap at the start of dinner.” And: “In England, pizza is pronounced pyza.” When Ross protested, the teacher said witheringly: “We are learning English, not American.”

This woman would insist that the kids memorize pages about English “civilization.” This could have been useful, both for reading English and learning about the culture of another country, except that her material was twenty years out of date. On one test she asked: “True or false: The English only drink wine on special occasions.” Rossella, having often visited her granddad and his wife in England, knew this to be false. Her answer was: “False. Why else would they have pubs?” The teacher disagreed and marked her down, even though Ross had been to England far more recently than she had.

I was even called in for a conference with this teacher once, because she was concerned about Ross’ performance! She was not interested in my suggestions that Ross was bored out of her mind and should be allowed to do something more challenging – that would have created extra work for herself. I’m not sure whether she was insulted or relieved that I conducted the conversation entirely in Italian.

Ross suffered through two years of this, then changed schools (for other reasons). I was impressed that the new English teacher immediately called me in to talk about what Ross should be doing, since it was an obvious waste of time for her to do the same elementary grammar exercises as the other kids. So Ross did some reading and writing in English, and helped the other kids. She spent a lot of time with a boy whom the teachers considered to be retarded. Ross knows something about learning disorders, and thought he was more likely dyslexic: he couldn’t read, but he could remember and work well with whatever she told him orally. The teachers were flabbergasted when Ross eventually got him to write something – in English, no less.

This year, the first year of high school, it’s bad news on the English teacher front again. Ross is forced to do the same stupid exercises as the other kids in the class, and, when she’s finished, she sits and twiddles her thumbs. She was warned in advance that this teacher is the touchy type, so at least she knew to keep her mouth shut. Ross’ friend Viola made a very good grade on the last English test, better than Ross herself (who was marked down for things like not putting a hyphen in ‘forty-nine’). Viola was so happy that she exclaimed excitedly to the teacher: “This is because I studied last night with Rossella!” Which was sooooo not what the teacher wanted to hear. Now Ross will be in demand to help all her classmates prepare for English tests; I guess she could earn some pocket money that way.

February, 2004: The current English teacher has had an epiphany. Some other classes and schools are paying 4000 euros (for the year) to bring in mother-tongue English speakers for conversation. This class doesn’t have to: they have Rossella, and the teacher has pointed out to the class that they should all be grateful for that.

Italian School Schedules and Calendars

Rossella is in her first year at Liceo Artistico (art high school), and we’re all struggling to adjust to her new pace of education. We didn’t know that Artistico requires more hours in the classroom than probably any other school: 4 days @ 5 hours plus 2 days @ 7 hours equals 34 hours a week, with only brief recess breaks, even on the two days that they have a lunch period. This time is divided into 40 periods of 50 minutes each.

19 periods are spent on standard academic subjects: biology, literature, religion, algebra, physics, grammar, English, history, anthology, and narrative (not sure I see the difference between these two and literature, but it seems to add up to several different kinds of reading each week). Then there are 19 periods of art: technical drawing, “plastic arts” (sculpture), art history, and pictorial arts. Finally, two periods of physical education. All that, and they still have homework most days.

School six days a week, ugh. Not only does Ross have to get up on Saturdays: so do I, to ensure that she does, though this is probably easier for me than for her. I’m the only morning person in this family, though occasionally even I like to have the option to sleep in. And most Sundays we’ll be getting up early as well, so Ross can ride. Groan.

School on Saturdays is traditional in Italy, but many schools in Milan have moved away from it, I suspect because many Milanese like to escape the city on weekends, fleeing to their second homes at the beach, on one of the lakes, or in the mountains (hence traffic is hideous going out of the city Friday night and back in Sunday night). Lecco retains the Saturday tradition, so it’s a good thing we are not in the habit of going away on weekends. On the other hand, who needs to? Lake Como is one of the places the Milanese escape to!