
PETALING JAYA: Despite being shunned by his classmates for being poor, Shahrul Mizan Ismail, now 45, survived the stigma and developed a different learning approach that uses elements from pedagogy to teach poor students, be they in the city or villages.
Shahrul was inspired to do so as he was similarly disadvantaged as a child, and lived in a small house in Ampang Jaya that had a zinc roof riddled with holes through which rainwater dripped during heavy showers.
“We’d put pails to catch the rainwater dripping from the roof. Since it was made of zinc sheets, it also felt really hot being in the house (during sunny days),” he told theSun from his home in Bangi.
His parents, a clerk and a typist, barely earned enough then and often had to stretch their groceries until payday.
“Although we lived in the city, we were experiencing urban poverty. Provisions were expensive in the 1980s too. I knew as a child that we were poor, and that getting a good education would be my ticket out of poverty.”
He subsequently decided to read law.
“I loved the idea of becoming a lawyer and defending the oppressed,” he said, adding that he was accepted to read law at the International Islamic University Malaysia.
By then, the family’s circumstances had become slightly better, and Shahrul started to hone his skill to teach English through initiatives organised by student bodies in rural areas.
That experience became the seed to change the education system, in which he took a keen interest in his late 20s.
He also tried his hand at being a lawyer.
“I was clocking in and out. It felt as if I didn’t have a purpose doing corporate litigation.”
But to become a lecturer, he had to take up a Master’s degree. He was offered a place in the UK, took a loan, and studied for a year while earning a weekly wage of £20 (RM104) as a newspaper delivery boy.
“I was often chased by dogs or drunkards,” he said.
Returning home, Shahrul felt students could excel if they were given a challenge instead of attending lectures. Part of his journey included travelling to semi-rural areas, with the wig and black gown used in court. He would bring to life solved cases, giving clues and instructions for the students to follow.
His sessions were similar to a court setting, where the children would simulate a hearing, arguing for and against a case.
“It’s often a lively scene. They’d raise their hands, competing with one another. By acting out a character, such as a lawyer, judge or an investigator, it gives them a chance to learn skills in an engaging real-life setting.
“They learn by making mistakes. They are not given lectures, but are thrown straight away into an experience, after which they would reflect on what they have learnt.
“They are given guidance to think about what they did right and wrong. They’ll be given a chance to try again on what they should do if they were given the opportunity to do it again,” he said, adding that it is every educator’s job to see to their students’ future.
In the meantime, Shahrul also realised that most school students were not interested in continuing their studies at the tertiary level, and he found that alarming.
He cited the Statistics Department 2019 report, that stated 390,000 out of 560,000 SPM candidates aged 17 to 18 planned to join the workforce after completing their exams, while only 170,000 students wanted to continue their studies.
The report also noted the reasons behind the trend were job opportunities in the gig economy and the idea that furthering their studies would not guarantee better jobs.
To address that, Shahrul is currently developing an app to combine different learning projects aimed at the B40 group. The app also allows users to contribute funds to support a cause.
