In my last diatribe against the indigenous education methods of the Middle Kingdom, I focused on the testing system. My focus was a bit narrow, admittedly. Not only was my thinking biased against the overdrawn testing measures of Chinese schools, but it was a bit judgmental as well. After reading about international students’ experiences in Chinese schools, I realized just how far removed I was from the elementary or even high school environment.
After replaying my argument in my head, I still hold fast to my belief that the gaokao is far from perfect, both as an exam and an institution of the Chinese education system. But in progressing from this debate, and hoping to emerge at some enlightened destination or finale, I thought it best to examine more closely the by-products of the testing process.
China has no shortage of students. Each year, the government expands the capacity of existing universities or adds completely new ones. This is no doubt a positive aspect of a rapidly developing society; the new dormitories and classrooms popping up are markers of success for a nation-wide education infrastructure that sends more and more young people to college every year. Not to mention that without these schools, myself and countless other expats residing in China would be out of work.
Despite the healthy growth of higher education in China, not every student’s prospects are shimmering. As I’ve explained before, the results of a student’s primary and high school experience are summed up in the gaokao, and that score alone determines college placement. This means, depending on the outcome of the gaokao, a student is faced with a choice of one out of three possible institutions. The first and highest tier is something akin to a four-year university in the United States that confers a Bachelor’s degree.
From here students can go on to earn a Master’s or a doctorate. The second tier is an institution that aspires to be a four-year university, but usually caters to a greater number of students, most of them hoping to leave with a degree in some mechanical or engineering field. The third tier, undoubtedly the lowest rung on the collegiate ladder, is a vocational school that doesn’t offer a Bachelor’s degree; however, from these vocational schools students still have the chance to test into four-year universities (at home or abroad) or receive a certificate in some professional career, e.g. tourism or accounting.
How bright are the students’ futures beyond their college days? The great hope for students graduating from a lower tier college is to land some kind of job after school. The great expansion of Chinese universities and institutes of higher learning over the past two decades has resulted in a larger number of graduates entering the workforce. This means more young men and women chasing scantly available jobs. Most of these jobs have alarmingly low income.
“Young people with vocational school degrees typically earn $200 to $300 a month in factories near the coast these days, and somewhat less in the Chinese interior.
…
But salaries for recent college graduates, at $300 to $500 a month in coastal areas, have actually declined in the last few years, even before adjusting for inflation. A rapid expansion of universities over the last decade has resulted in more young men and women with undergraduate degrees than companies are ready to hire, except at lower pay.”
-excerpt from New York Times article Inflation in China Is Rising at a Fast Pace
If China has serious plans to bolster the domestic consumer market, than there is a lot of work ahead. Educated young professionals need a more robust job market if they are expected to return capital to the economy. With the prospects available, a graduate who is lucky enough to find a decent job after school is still going to have to spread their salary pretty thin.
“I honestly don’t know how young people starting out in the work world manage,” Ms. Lam said. They pay nearly half their salaries for their own room in a shared apartment in a bad neighborhood, she said, “and if you add in food and transportation, there will be nothing extra left in your salary to send home.”
-excerpt from New York Times article Inflation in China Is Rising at a Fast Pace
This writer sees a striking similarity between the plight of recent graduates in China and his home country. For the time being, he can at least draw on this doleful forecast for some kind of empathy in his day-to-day work.
Rory Keane is an American-born teacher and writer who has logged nearly two years in China, and is working on another year-long stint in the Middle Kingdom. He writes about travel, sociopolitical issues, health, entertainment, and culture, among other topics.
