School Force-Feeding

“EAT!” My grandma exclaims, though it comes across more like a command.

She gestures towards the dining table, brimming with salted crackers, peanuts with seaweed, roasted chestnuts and other Shanghainese snacks.

The last thing I wanted to do was eat. Though I knew if I refused, I risked losing my social standing as the model grandchild.

Despite all this, I shake my head apologetically.

“Thanks Grandma but I’m just not hungry yet…” pausing to look up and see how she was taking it.

Not well.

“… I’ll join you in 30 mins — after I’ve digested.”

I had only just eaten breakfast 20 minutes ago, my stomach was at max capacity and (tmi I know), I hadn’t even pooped.

Throughout the week in Shanghai, I never once felt hungry.

It was the most privileged problem I faced, and led to a strange repulsion for food and destroyed the fun of eating. I missed the abdominal daggers gnawing away inside me, and that euphoric satisfaction at the first crunchy bite of food.

I told myself that when I returned to Melbourne, I’d eat nothing but salad and egg. It was the only thing I could muster anyway.

Force Feeding Students

Like my grandma stuffing me to the point of abdominal herniation, students are fed insane amounts of theory which completely smothers their appetite for learning.

Their natural curiosity is replaced with:

• What’s on the test?
• Where’s the rubric?
• When’s lunch?

We have disengaged, bored students studying only for the sake of the test. Then when school’s finished for the day, they’ll do things they’re ACTUALLY curious about.

How about we ease off the food, and let them choose when to eat? They’ll get hungry eventually, and that’s exactly when they’re ravenous, curious, and ready to learn.