Hong Kong’s Exam Schools All the Fashion

For Richard Eng’s summer school students at Beacon College, it’s time for a makeup quiz. Examining his visage on a giant video wall that projects his image to a packed classroom, his students wonder: Is that face powder he’s wearing? And lipstick?

The correct answer is: Yes.

“I want to be brighter! Sharper!” says Eng, who has learned that, on camera, a shiny face doesn’t make the grade.

In Hong Kong, where only one of five students is accepted into college, cram schools like Eng’s are thriving on teenagers’ need to be brighter and sharper in the exam room--as well as their desire to be cool. As in academically fixated Japan, the intense competition here for students’ attention and tuition has transformed the Hong Kong institutions into places that focus as much on glamour as on grammar.

Teen magazines are filled with dreamy photos of instructors in designer fashions and funky glasses, elbows resting on leather-bound encyclopedias. They look more like pop stars than professors and have gained the same kind of cult following; students line up for hours to apply for the classes of the 10 hottest teachers.

“Some students scream and cry if there is no room for them,” says student Justi Li, 17, of another teacher-idol, Joseph Li, who is no relation. “In Hong Kong, it’s important to get the best of everything or people think you are not cool--or a little dumb.”

Eng, who co-founded Beacon College in 1990 after majoring in business administration, works hard at looking smart. He wears Cartier sunglasses, a Dolce & Gabbana beige T-shirt, tight white pinstriped Versace trousers, beige Gucci loafers and a silver Gucci watch. And he carries a Louis Vuitton bag.

“I wear different kinds of designer brands so I can teach them pronunciation and about European culture,” Eng says. “It gives them respect with their peers if they can say the difficult ones, like Louis Vuitton, Gianni Versace. They used to say Versays. Now they know.”

Eng’s success as a teacher-idol--there are typically dozens in his classes, and he charges each student $13 for each two-hour session--allows him to make frequent forays to New York and Milan to stock up on such teaching accessories. Stored as separate summer and winter collections, and organized by designer, his fashions fill a whole room of the apartment he shares with his wife, Irene.

While educators complain about the rise of materialism and falling educational standards, students say parents should stop moaning and be thankful for anything that encourages them to study.

“I’m having fun, but I’m learning too,” says aspiring engineer Chris Li, 16, who hopes that his lessons with top teacher-idol Joseph Li will improve his dismal English grades. “I’m beginning to like English now, so I’m confident of getting a good mark this time round.”

With their informal atmosphere and trendy teachers, the classes seem a far cry from the stiff rote learning of many Hong Kong schools, where teachers struggle to cover lengthy programs in short semesters.

The efficacy of the cram schools is difficult, at best, to measure, though each publicizes its success stories, spotlights its teaching stars and otherwise sells itself as being good for the desperate young and their families.

But on a deeper level some educators point to “glamour crammers” as proof that Hong Kong’s education system is in big trouble.

Some schools are not licensed, and few educators have teaching qualifications.

English teacher Sze Wai-chun, known as the “king of tutors,” was arrested last week in front of 300 students after the Education Department found that a branch of his school had been operating illegally. His application several months ago to open the branch had been rejected because of “wrong spelling.”

Cram school teaching includes practicing exam questions and grammar drills, and, for the English language exam, copying model essays. But last year, perfection came with a price for 600 students who diligently copied and reproduced the essay written by their cram school teacher--who was also an exam board advisor: They were all disqualified on that part of the exam.

“This points to a shortcoming in the school system,” says legislator David Chu Yu-lin, author of education reform proposals that include a call for trilingual teaching--Cantonese, English, Mandarin--and an end to rote learning.

“Schools are not doing their job if students can’t take their summer vacation. I don’t blame the cram schools’ marketing,” Chu says. “It just reflects how materialistic this society is.”