To question or not to question

I am not an activist. All I do is read, write, and ask questions. Since young, my grandparents, parents and teachers – be it formally or informally – have been exasperated by my “whys?”

I guess therein is the reason I decided to not have children of my own, because I know any organism that carries half of my genome would be as annoying as me.

Despite not getting the answers I hoped for or being ignored completely at times, I should be grateful that I am allowed to ask questions. At the very least, my questions are “out there”.

During a forum last Thursday, I was shown this clip which reminded me that in some countries, those who dared to ask “why?” would be met not only with public vilification, but rather simply, be silenced by death.

Those interested to watch this clip can search YouTube for “2+2=5 Iranian short film” and derive your own conclusions.

Personally, I found the film disturbing yet poignant, and couldn’t help but feel agitated in my seat at how close it felt to my own experience, albeit not as dramatic.

Since young, I was told to achieve, that having certificates would be the only way to achieve success through a better economic standing.

While my late grandfather was known as the Umno man who left this earth with only a single-storey terrace house to his name, he ensured that all his children and grandchildren gained education.

Sure, most of us had to get public scholarships, but all of us completed at least up to diploma level in our field of choice. Actually, getting the As was also the only way I found approval and acknowledgement from my parents.

I don’t think my experience would differ much than the rest of the population. At every stage of life, we were taught that having straight As equals to our parents and subsequently our community being proud of our achievements, while if we ever, God forbid, become a radical in any way, we would be the brunt of rumours and worse, public vilification.

Getting the straight As, however, involved many hours of perusing over huge textbooks and copying notes onto flashcards to memorise what we deemed as “facts”.

We would go through “practice papers” for our exams, fervently completing the papers while resisting the urge to peek at the answers. Once completed, we would go through the answers provided at the back of the books with a red pen in hand.

In class, our teachers would spew “facts” at us, and we were taught to repeat after them, parroting beliefs and memorising formulas, dates, and the names of historians, anatomy, chemicals and molecules, among others.

Growing up, I do wonder if I was actually one of those sheep portrayed in George Orwell’s Animal Farm.

How many times have you caught yourself putting your fingers in your ears, eyes closed, repeating facts on flash cards, just to pass your exams?

Compare that with how many times have you raised your hand, Hermione Granger-like, to question your teachers, or to offer an opinion and start a discussion?

While our politicians are concerned about global university rankings and the proficiency of English among Malaysians, I think the biggest issue faced by our education system is the lack of questioning it receives at all levels, by all its stakeholders. And yes, that includes the students.

Perhaps we should take a leaf out of Finland’s books and completely de-structure the way we educate.

However, this must also be supplemented by an environment where both educators and students are fearless enough to try new things, empowered enough to go beyond a bureaucratic system in place, and also not be scared by authorities into subjugation. This should begin by asking students what do they want?

In short, be radical about it.

Information should be freely accessible, bans should be lifted, and media should be free to report with journalists and academics able to do their jobs without being subjected to intimidation, and without fear or favour.

Only then, would we have a society that would be able to think analytically and critically on any issue, and we would finally be able to have discourse.

And of course, we all must learn delayed gratification. We cannot expect the impact of any policies to materialise itself every five years or so and change it drastically when it does not give us the result we expected.

Instead, we must allow it to mature while keeping a tab on its progress, making small tweaks and adjustments here and there.

I guess, that is the reason I am doing research. That every question I ask is a catalyst to at least another five. That I am still hungry for answers and am not satisfied until I have exhausted every avenue possible to seek such answers. 

I can only hope that many more will continue to do the same. – April 8, 2015.

* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insider.