Years ago, a photo of one of Elon Musk's high school physics exercises went viral online. Many people commented, half-jokingly, that even the billionaire Elon Musk had to learn torque problems, so students today shouldn't complain about having to study the same thing.
If the goal is for our students to achieve high English proficiency, the change must start with the language model they hear most often: their teacher.
The flight landed on time. I hurried to the baggage claim thinking I would be out and on my way to a meeting within 10–15 minutes. Thirty minutes went by. An hour passed. My suitcase still had not appeared.
Making English a compulsory subject from grade 1 is undeniably the right direction, but as a parent, the policy still brings me mixed thoughts: I'm worried that my child will be overloaded.
"Half a kilo more, come on! The plane carries hundreds of people, what difference does it make?" a woman snapped as airline staff stopped her at the check-in counter.
A friend of mine, a manager at a trading company, had to make a difficult decision last summer to pull his child out of an international school with tuition and expenses totaling VND450 million (US$17,100) per year.
Many candidates who graduated from top universities, scored an impressive IELTS 8.0, participated in research projects, and achieved remarkable accomplishments still get rejected at my company after the interview round.
Once when I was in Thai Binh, someone asked me in Vietnamese about my "nương". I froze for a second. "Why's he asking me about barbecue (nướng)?" Seeing my confusion, he burst out laughing: "Ah, I meant 'lương', your salary."
Having witnessed the Japanese lining up in perfect order and maintaining a quiet demeanor everywhere, I could not help but compare it to the bustling, noisy conversations I often hear in other places.