Follow this midlife mess in motion on a 3 month journey to the opposite side of the world
where I plan to sweep out the brain closet and unpack the shenanigans of my inner child.
God I hope they have coffee.

Temple of Literature gate

015 – Quốc Tử Giám Temple of Literature

 The organization of teaching and learning at Quốc Tử Giám –  the first National University began in 1076 during the Lý dynasty. Methods of teaching developed over time and were perfected during the Lê dynasty in the 15th-18th centuries.

If it took them 5-8 centuries to get something right, I think I’m doing rather well on this trip.

Students of Quốc Tử Giám were called Giám sinh. Initially, most of the students of Quốc Tử Giám were approved by the king for admission, including civil servants, royal children, and mandarins. Following the the “when drinking water, think of its source” tradition, the doors were opened to common and talented children if they passed certain tests.

The format for learning consisted of first, lectures. Twice a month, the officials would speak on Confucian classics and historical stories. The students then had to study on their own, conduct research on the topic and practice their writing.

I would  not do well at this school. Lecture once, then leave me to my own devices and expect me to not run off chasing daisies? I’m in Vietnam right now if that gives you any indication of the size of my daisies.

Students then took exams once a month, which they could complete in the classroom or take home before submitting them for grading. Yes, I think we can thank the Confucian scholars for the concept of grading. But none of this A, B, C, D, 4 point, 5 point… whatever. The essay was Excellent, Average, or Below Average.
If you were Excellent, the most outstanding of the excellent were chosen to be read during the literary critique sessions held on the 1st and 15th days of the Lunar month, but wait! There’s  more. They invited the royals, all the scholars, and court officials to come and listen to your prose.

I mentioned government officials, right? Since most of the topics covered national governance issues like ethics, teaching principals, administration, and ruler’s governance, that would have been a tough crowd.

Those were the minor essays, like the quizzes we endure today. The exams happened on the 4th day of the 3rd month of each quarter and were used to weed out students. Sound familiar to anyone?     

It took a minimum of 3 years, corresponding to the time Confucian scholars spent studying before taking the Imperial examinations. The National University was the educational authority of the court in the capital city, so you kind of had to go there to be part of the court. And pass. None of this party through stuff we are so fond of today.

In addition to the Confucian classics which were the foundation of the university, other texts included works on government decrees, selected ancient poetry and literary works. Students were also regularly trained in various writing styles used in examinations. Which would be helpful to pass the examinations, so they should learn how, one might think.

Students were required to adhere to strict moral standards, with benevolence, righteousness, and propriety forming the foundation of their conduct. The regulations stated specifically:

“Students are prohibited from engaging in misconduct, debauchery, or gambling. Violators will be barred from taking the imperial exams for three cycles and not eligible for government appointments.”

Very few in America would graduate college, and probably not high school if they were prohibited from debauchery. How dreadful.

There were punishments for bad behavior, because virtue first, you know. Those who were ‘lazy of learning,’ or missed roll call for the first time would pay 140 pieces of paper as punishment; the second time they would: pay 200 pieces; the 3rd time they would be given 50 lashes; if it went to a 4th offence, the student would be sent to Ministry of Justice for interrogation.

I don’t know what pieces of paper were worth, but I assume if 50 lashes followed 200 pieces, it was significant.

There are 82 doctoral steles, or stone tablets at the site, which are essentially records of who graduated. Literally set in stone. Once you earned your degree, you were stuck with it.

 On the front of each stele, inscriptions record events related to the imperial examinations and the names of the successful doctoral candidates. One example from 1481 shows more than 2,000 scholars participated, but only 40 were selected to advance to the Royal examination. Of those 40, the king reviewed the exam papers and assigned ranks for of the 40 individuals in one of 3 doctoral degrees they awarded. 3 achieved first rank; 8 were second; and 29 were third.

On the back of some of the stele, the names and titles of the examiners are inscribed and include the Chief Examiner, the Panel of Judges, and the Supervisor.

Effectively, the stones were the diplomas. Hard to carry, but proof of education none the less.

It was more than a diploma, however. It was a way to hold the scholar to his task. The texts state specifically,

“…those whose names are inscribed on this stone stele are naturally required to perfect themselves in morality, and to polish up their mentality by means of literature, so as to remain genuine doctoral laureates of a Royal exam, who will never betray the Court’s trust and never give away chances to make use of their knowledge.”

I think my diploma is in a drawer somewhere if I still have it at all. I certainly betrayed the trust and rarely make use of knowledge. Knowledge in general, not just the stuff they gave me at the U. But that is rather obvious.

As more achieved their doctorates from the University, they spread out across the country to encourage and build the ‘fondness of study’ philosophy among the people, particularly directed toward children.

The complex itself, consists of 5 walled courtyards covering 54,331 square meters. I believe there were at least 10 people for every square meter of space on the grounds today.

I was excited to come here, but I did not plan my visit well. Hint: Don’t come during Tet. I had several things I wanted to see here, and I did see them, kind of. I did not achieve the face to face personal experience I had hoped for, instead accepting the face to back of person or people in front of me who were facing the experience. So, pictures are lacking, but I was here.

 I did do one thing I wanted to. I said prayers and made an offering at Bái Đường , or the House of Ceremony.

It is tradition at the new year especially, for everyone to come to the temple of literature and write scrolls, leave offerings, generally beg for good luck with their educational endeavors.

So, I prayed to Confucius. I asked him to help my daughter through medical school, and I prayed my boys would be enlightened someday. Then I was not exactly sure what to do, so I waited. I listened. Confucius did not say.

I traveled to the other side of the world and prayed to the man himself for my daughter to do well in her studies, just as the kings of the past did. Not bragging, but paying for college, bringing the deities in to give you some street cred… Mom’s got your back.

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