Houses of Wisdom: A New, Old Model for Community Education

Nguyễn spoke to me over iced coffee in an elegant open-air restaurant overlooking the Saigon River. Before founding the first House of Wisdom in 2016, in his boyhood home, he donated money to needy families in his home province. “But nothing seemed to change,” he said. “It even got worse. The people didn’t want to learn; they only asked, ‘Where is the money?’”

Nguyễn then told me a Vietnamese version of the old “if you give a person a fish” proverb that is a bit more layered than ours: if you give someone a fish, they eat for a day. Better to give the person a fishing pole, but only if you show them how to use it. Even then, a fishing pole and the necessary knowledge are worthless if the person doesn’t want to fish, so you must encourage them. Finally, successful fishers should “pay it forward,” giving fishing poles, instruction, and inspiration to others so the effect expands and multiplies across the community. This is the philosophy behind the House of Wisdom.

Commitment to Learning

Houses of Wisdom do not replace conventional schools, but they complement them. “We teach everything that is not taught, or not taught enough, in school,” said Nguyễn, “and we do so in an environment that is comfortable and welcoming for everyone.” Schools in Vietnam tend to be strict, teacher-centered, and focused on rote learning, but people can relax in a House of Wisdom, joke around, play the radio and play games, put their feet up on the table.

The House of Wisdom promotes not just the joy of learning but a commitment to learning. A new franchise often begins with a donation of a few hundred books to start the library, but then local people are asked to build bookcases, add to the library themselves, and volunteer to organize and teach classes—classes that the House of Wisdom supports through regular teacher-training opportunities. Nguyễn envisions Houses of Wisdom in all of Vietnam’s poorest communities and, eventually, everywhere, including Alaska. “Lifelong learning is for everyone,” he said.

When my family and I visited, we spoke to packed houses about Alaska, UAA, tips for learning English, and strategies for overcoming our shared colonial past. Audiences ranged from small children to the elderly. It seemed the whole village showed up; people who couldn’t get seats crowded in the back, kids on parents’ shoulders, or peered through windows and doors. Facilities were modest but bristling with positive energy. We were often welcomed with a traditional dance or song and always many, many questions.

Before the French arrived in the 19th century to exploit the people and their resources, education in Vietnam, as in Alaska, was primarily informal, place-based, and experiential. Learning did not depend on grants, technology, exams, or bureaucrats. Villages took care of themselves and their own. For more formal education, most featured a house where boys and men could sit on the floor and learn from local scholars, perhaps similar to the Yup’ik qasgiq or Iñupiaq qargi. In these ways, the House of Wisdom offers a new idea with ancient roots. It is an idea we should reconsider.