A description of the public school system in Germany
Nine-year-old Matthias loves to play soccer. With the baggy red and blue jersey of his favorite pro team FC Bayern flapping about his slim frame, the boy skillfully dribbles a ball through a throng of madly kicking kids. Like many boys his age, the third grader spends every spare minute on the playing field; he wants to be a professional soccer player when he grows up. His parents have different plans for their son. "We want him to go to university," says Matthias' father, a mechanical engineer. "That means he should attend the Gymnasium as of fifth grade. But to qualify, he'll have to bring his grades up. If they don't improve this fall, we might have to take him off the team so he'll have more time for homework." Parents in Germany must choose the educational path their children will take at an early age, just one decision of many in a complicated school system. Emerging from the roots established in Kindergarten up through a solid, shared base of grade school learning, the choices for secondary school and vocational education fan out like the branches of a tree. When kids and parents find themselves out on the wrong limb, it means either a risky jump, or backtracking to the last junction. Beginning at age three, most children attend Kindergarten, which is something like combined day care and preschool. Here children strengthen their social skills through songs, games and practical tasks, but are not taught anything scholastic, such as letters or numbers. Children begin their compulsory education at age six in the public Grundschule. Grade school covers grades one to four, and the first two grades ease children into the rigors of formal learning; they receive biannual assessments, but not grades. Third and fourth grades are much tougher, and by the time they get there, children must be prepared to prove their academic mettle: grades become all-important and parents put pressure on kids to perform. This is the dilemma facing parents like Matthias'. At the end of the fourth grade, teachers recommend only their best students go to Gymnasium, a highly academic college-preparatory school. The other pupils continue on to the Hauptschule for grades five to nine, where they garner a basic general education and prepare for vocational training. A third option is to attend grades seven to ten at the Realschule. Its educational offerings lie between the Hauptschule and Gymnasium, combining theory with practical application. So, children who are not doing well in Gymnasium can transfer "down" to Realschule, and children with above-average grades in Hauptschule can transfer "up" to Realschule. HAUPTSCHULE OR GYMNASIUM Monika Schmidt is the principal of the Gerastraße grade school in Munich, where she also teaches third and fourth graders. She thinks that parents' wish for prestige prevents them from realistically assessing their childrens' abilities. The most common mistake parents make is to insist that their kids go to Gymnasium when they would be much better off going to another type of school. Making the decision comes much easier for teachers, who can watch children in the classroom setting. "Beginning in the first grade, we are already observing the children to discover their aptitudes and weaknesses," Schmidt says. "Generally, by the time they are in third grade, I can already tell whether or not they'll succeed in Gymnasium." Near the end of the fourth grade, teachers look not only at grades, but also at a child's maturity, study habits and scholastic ambition. They require a grade point average above 2.5 on a scale of 1 (very good) to 6 (unsatisfactory). Children from bilingual homes can carry a lower grade point average and still qualify. Suitable candidates receive an Übertrittszeugnis (transfer report) to Gymnasium. In some cases, a child may take a entrance exam, and in any case, parents can request their child get a three-day trial at the Gymnasium, allowing the teachers to decide whether the pupil fits in. Children with borderline grades can wait until after fifth grade to transfer from Hauptschule to Gymnasium, but they must repeat the fifth grade there, or they can attend Realschule beginning in seventh grade. Children who do not go to Gymnasium or Realschule continue on in Hauptschule, the classroom leg of Germany's duales System, or work-study scheme. Pupils attend Haupt-schule until ninth grade, combined with blocks of in-company training. At the end of their Hauptschule years, most pupils begin an apprenticeship (Lehre), while pursuing further classroom learning for three more years. Despite its outstanding reputation internationally, in Germany the Hauptschule is under attack for turning out young people who lack basic skills: up to 10 percent of vocational trainees are leaving Haupt-schule functionally illiterate. REALSCHULE REALITIES Whereas districts determine which grade school a child attends, Schmidt advises, "When choosing a secondary school, parents should, above all, take their children to visit the school. See if they like the new surroundings - they're possibly going to be there for the next eight or nine years." All secondary schools offer informational evenings and have designated counselors to assist parents and children in making their decision, and both city and state counseling services are available for further assistance. In the last few years, half a dozen Real-schulen in Munich have added classes that start in fifth grade, broadening the options especially for "late bloomers" who still have aspirations of attending Gymnasium and, notes Schmidt, "lets parents avoid sending their kids to the Hauptschule." Mother of two teenagers, Hannelore Kress notes that when choosing schools, her family tried to base its decisions on how well the children were actually doing. "Our son Martin was never really interested in school, but after sixth grade his grades were good enough for him to go to Realschule." Yet when Martin didn't keep his grades up, he had to transfer back to the Hauptschule after only a year at the Realschule. Kress was devastated. "I was afraid he'd messed up his whole future," she says. She blames most of her son's problems in Real-schule on his instructors. How well children do in school depends largely on how they are treated. "Martin's homeroom teacher intimidated the whole class with his biting sarcasm," she says. "It was his way of keeping the kids in line, but it made Martin really miserable." Fortunately, Martin subsequently got a "great" teacher at the Hauptschule, and the teenager earned a certificate "with distinction" a year later that will open the doors to education at a commercial school. Martin's sister Anne wasn't so lucky. She'd been an ambitious grade schooler, had nearly straight "1s" on her report card and seemed a natural for Gymnasium. She loved it and did well, but Latin proved her downfall. After failing the course, she transferred to a Realschule. Although Anne was coping successfully with frustration and the unfamiliarity of a new school, her homeroom teacher in the Realschule taunted her with her failure. "The teacher tried to 'motivate' her with ridicule," says Kress. "Anne came home from school crying all the time. Finally, I had a long talk with the teacher. My daughter's adjusting now, but she's lost a lot of her desire to learn." Keeping the lines of communication with a child's teachers wide open is probably the best way for parents to assist their children. Informing the teacher about a child's character will save everyone a difficult period of trial and error. TEACHER'S PET In his 1995 book Schulreport, Peter Struck theorizes that a teacher determines a pupil's fate, and that how well kids do in German schools depends more on the teachers than on the type of teachers are academically well qualified, and perhaps overqualified. But they are not very good at dealing with children. Teachers in Germany are civil servants, which means ironclad job security. The country's economic doldrums have resulted in a freeze on job creation, so fewer new teachers are finding work. At the same time, the existing cadre is getting older and showing signs of "burnout," notes Struck. And, despite a growing number of school-age children, budget cutting is on Germany's educational agenda, meaning larger classes (approximately 30 pupils), and shorter school days. Not only do teachers have to cram more information into fewer hours, they have even less time and energy for their pupils' non-scholastic needs. Relationships between parents and teachers are strained. On the one hand, parents complain that large classes and rigid teaching methods squelch their children's individuality and creativity. On the other, teachers complain that they are dealing with unmanageable, sometimes violent kids; they're the ones left to straighten out parents' permissiveness gone awry. Nicola Müller, 21, who got her Abitur, the Gymnasium diploma, two years ago, says that her problems in school reflected another difficulty that teens face. "When I was 15, in tenth grade, adolescence hit me full force," she says. "Although I'd always been pretty good in school, I suddenly couldn't care less. I began ditching classes and fought with my parents constantly. My father, who's a school guidance counselor, finally said, 'Okay, so quit school and go get yourself a job.' Then I realized I didn't even know how to apply for one." Facing a lack of job prospects, even youngsters are worrying about what professions they will choose rather than first figuring out who they are. "The only thing that kept me going was fear," Müller says. "I didn't think I could handle it if my friends kept moving along, leaving me marching in place." Whatever the reasons, when pupils fail a subject or can't keep up with their classmates, they must repeat the grade or transfer schools. BAVARIAN RANKING It may be of little comfort to kids like Martin or Anne that Bavarian schools are the best and toughest in the country. Director of Municipal School Counseling Services Dietrich Köhn gives a thumbnail sketch of the state's academic standing: "Bavaria ranks first, followed by Baden-Württemberg, and then there's a very big gap." He notes that pupils transferring to Bavaria from other states generally have to repeat a grade. In other states, because scholastic demands are fewer, the overall percentage of pupils graduating with the Abitur runs from 30 to 50 percent, but in Bavaria, it stays below 20 percent. At the core of the issue remains the question: what is the purpose of education, is it to impart knowledge or to prepare young people for their later occupations? Germany's system offers many alternatives, but through its very diversity, families often can't see the forest for the trees. It's difficult to know which way to turn: parents steer their kids into schools for which they are not suited, not realizing that a "good" school does not always guarantee good teaching. The positive aspect is that there are many different routes to higher education: Realschule or Hauptsschule graduates can, with supplementary classes, attend college or get an equivalency certificate. A child like Matthias probably won't achieve his boyhood dream of making it to the soccer pros, but he might not fulfill his parents' dream of university, either. For now they can keep coaching him along, but ultimately he's the one who has to make the grade.