A disenfranchisement of the citizenry

A quick glance through the Irish syllabus for the Leaving Cert and it all seems interesting and positive enough. I am particularly impressed by the bonnleibhal or foundation course, which wasn't there in my time, and which sets out to give a basic but thorough knowledge of the language to pupils who have difficulties learning second languages in an academic setting.

A sample of recent papers also seems attractive, with lots of storyboards on which to hang narratives, and what seems like scope for a bit of fun and imagination. A quick look through recent papers also gives what seems to be give a picture of material that is very much of our time and of great topical interest. A recent essay title was "Polaiticeoiri na linne seo - ceap magaidh is ea iad" (rough translation: Modern politicians - a bunch of eejits), which had me reaching for the nearest biro. The general aims of the syllabus are excellent and laudable - the higher-level syllabus emphasises the importance of cultivating a positive attitude towards the language, seeing that for many this will be the last formal interaction they will have with it. It also stresses the importance of a knowledge of our cultural heritage in the development of individuality and self-esteem.

But how do these aims and practices translate into the often-tough reality of the classroom? One place to look is the chief examiner's report for all three levels of Irish, the most recently available of which is for 1997. The general opinion of the examiners for the ordinary-level papers is blunt: it was obvious in the case of a large number of examinees "nach raibh coras na teanga foghlamtha acu" - they had not learned the basic structure of the language. Another complaint I was already aware of - it is the bugbear of those of us who take part in the writers-in-schools scheme - and that is the constant reliance on ready answers and paraphrases that have been learned off by heart, parrotwise, without any clue of what they might mean.

These conclusions, in my eyes, are enough to damn the whole system as basically not working, if not actually unworkable. I have a dreadful premonition that I know what is happening: every day in every classroom every teacher is being asked to invent the wheel over and over again. That is not the work of a teacher. That is the work of applied linguists. All a teacher should be expected to do in class is to turn the wheel that has already been set in motion by a comprehensive language-learning system that should be in place from infant classes upwards.

I have three kids in their late teens and early 20s. "What is wrong with Irish in the Leaving?" says my eldest. "Well, it's changing - they don't teach Peig anymore, which is great. A lot of kids don't like it, because they will never use it in their lives, to be honest, even though they would like to. They should teach it more as a foreign language, because for most people it is a second language, or else they have to make it easier."

My youngest teenager was more upsetting. "The amount of Irish I know is the amount I had as a child. The Leaving Cert has actually lessened my appreciation of Irish because you have to do it: it is compulsory and it is a crap course. It sort of puts me off Irish." This from someone who is actually quite good at Irish, and who regularly speaks it to me at home!

I nagged her further. What's wrong with the teaching? "For instance, grammar out of context - they are teaching us grammar and we have no clue what is going on. They go on about `declension blah-blah-blah', and we think `what the hell is a declension?' They say `this is this' and `that is that', but they make no connection between them - and that is what we need, because otherwise it means nothing to us."

How this brings me back! I have a crystal-clear memory of my mother chasing me around the living-room table at home, incensed at what she thought was my deliberate recalcitrance. When she asked me to put "fuinneog" (window) in the genitive case, I hadn't got the foggiest clue of what she meant. "Bhfuinneog? Fuinneoig?" - trying my luck as far as I could push it. In desperation she would cry out, "Oh, for God's sake, say `the frame of the window'!" At which I would come out naturally with "frama na fuinneoige". To misquote Moliere's upstart gentleman, having learned Irish naturally in a Gaeltacht setting as a very small child, I never realised that all my life I had actually been speaking grammar.

Then again my mother was not a trained Irish teacher, and I would expect the situation to be slightly better nowadays. As it was for me, once I went to secondary school and learned Latin: after a few weeks of "mensa, mensa, mensam, mensae, mensae, mensa", I understood immediately what was going on in Irish, but nowadays that hard drilling in a heavily inflected language is hardly available to anyone any more.

No wonder my daughter is confused. She was also amazed when I pointed out that at least three of the poems on her course are traditional songs, and very beautiful ones at that. "They were just taught to us as poems, and we have to learn off big chunks of quotes and stuff and we can hardly remember the half of it."

The kids all agree Irish should be an option rather than a compulsory subject. When I object that nobody would do it, they disagree. "They will, Mom, they really will. It is reverse psychology. Well, maybe initially they won't, because it has been forced into them for a long time, but they will come back to it." . Hmmmm. Add the usual liberal pinch of salt to the above.

Still, salt and all, it seems obvious to me is that something is gravely wrong in the way Irish is taught, both to children in the school system and to adults outside it. The ability to be fluent in both official languages of this State is the constitutional right of every citizen. The fact that shameful levels of functional illiteracy exist even in English in modern Ireland gives one reason enough to pause. Given the basic defects in language teaching throughout the system, and the almost absolute absence of any functional context, or contextual function, for Irish once the Leaving is over, very few citizens are in the happy position of being genuinely bilingual.

Only the lucky combination of fiercely dedicated parents and the occasional brilliant teacher makes it at all possible even for that minority. This amounts to nothing less than a basic disenfranchisement of the majority of the people of Ireland. A major theoretical and practical linguistic overhaul is vitally and acutely necessary, backed by the finances and political will to put it in place. To blame the Leaving Certificate syllabus and exam system for the deep defects in the system is both inept and maybe downright mischievous. Something much more important than an exam is at stake here, and I am deeply worried about the outcome.