It's hard
to believe, but this September marks a decade of experience teaching English to
speakers of other languages. It's a career that I fell into by chance, but
love. To commemorate, I'll share ten things I've learned over the years in this
field, five this week, and five next week. Let's see which ones strike a chord
of resonance--and not just with teachers and students.
This is one I'll admit I'm still working on! My grandmother once shared this memory, of
which I have absolutely no recollection, but she insisted that it was true. She
described me as a small child, wanting to play school, forcing her to sit down
among a bunch of stuffed animal students. Apparently, I got up in front and
started lecturing passionately on some topic that was of utmost importance to
my little heart at the time. In my zeal, I was completely ignoring the toy
mice, dolls, and rabbits and my infinitely patient grandmother. What's more, I
was oblivious to the fact that some of the heavy-headed toys were literally
falling over--probably from boredom!
I would like to say that this description was
only a memory of how cute and imaginative I was as a child. But it isn’t. I
fear it may also resemble some classes I've taught over the years, where, for
whatever reason, I am caught up in what I’m saying and end up just throwing
words at students, knocking them over, like overstuffed, fuzzy toys.
Students' faces and body language say a lot.
If they are drooping over their desks or looking at me with shiny plastic
button eyes, it is almost certainly time to change my approach.
Every classroom brings a new mix--my first
“students” included Care Bears, a Cabbage Patch Kid, and definitely a creepy
doll and a mouse or two. All my classes since then have been much more lively
and interesting. Every class has a different flavor, and each individual has
their own idiosyncrasies and needs. The more I get know my students, their
interests, personalities, passions, the better I can reach them and make
English more meaningful.
2. Live in the moment, and trust your
instincts.
Some of the most valuable lessons I learned in
college happened in the student-led improv comedy club that I took part in. To
be flexible and just go with what's given to you and to learn to think on your
feet are not just acting skills. These are essential life skills, honed by time
and practice. I've had some of my best classroom moments when I stepped back
from the lesson plan (still keeping the overall objective in view), and went
with the flow. I'll give few of my favorite examples to
illustrate.
A living grammar illustration
Five or more years back, I was teaching verbs
with two objects:
- I bought some chocolate for my sister.
- I bought my sister some chocolate.
- He gave a gift to her.
- He gave her a gift.
An athletic student announced with frustration
that he didn't even know what a verb or an object was was in his own language,
never mind English. Suppressing an eye roll and a sigh of frustration, I was
about to launch into my typical explanation that "a verb is an action
word." But something stopped me. I decided to make this star swimming
coach into an action word himself.
I grabbed a piece of paper, wrote
"verb" on it, and stuck it on him. With surprising enthusiasm, he
acted out each sentence. He bought the sister some chocolate; he gave her a
gift. I got a few other students to play the role of:
- the direct object (the chocolate),
- the indirect object (the sister),
- the prepositions to and for, used only when the direct object comes first (to with certain verbs, for with others)
They all laughed a lot while acting out the
sentences, rearranging the structure to fit both patterns with exaggerated
theatrical flair. And two major victories were won. First, a kinesthetic learner (one who responds to
tactile activities, rather than visual or audio) finally learned what a verb
was. Second, this hands-on illustration became a fun visual for the rest of the
class. You can be sure that I used this in future lessons.
Turn the question around
A smaller scale spontaneous tweak in the
lesson happened this past week. A high-level class was discussing the various
perspectives of different groups of people involved in a news story. After
explaining the different points of view and analyzing the motivations behind
each one, they had to identify which they most agreed with.
I suddenly got the idea to ask the class how
they think the public reaction to the story might have been different if
Twitter had been a driving force back then. These are teenagers who rarely read
news articles, but are always on their phones. So they had no problem
speculating--in the past unreal conditional, which I seized the opportunity to
review--what might have happened if Twitter had been popular then. Bending the
story further into their world helped make the discussion much more relevant as
we talked about the power and consequences of words.
Maker in the moment
A few semesters ago, on the first day of
class, one that was full of teenagers, we were discussing unusual types of
houses and shelters. It had been a long day already, with an icebreaker, a
unit-opener, vocabulary, and a content-loaded listening. I could tell they were
getting restless. The grammar was comparatives (stronger than, more basic than)
and superlatives (the strongest, the most basic). Even though it’s fun stuff to
teach, I could tell this crew wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
I was thinking to myself, “These kids need to
build something! I wish I had planned a maker movement activity instead of
being determined to cover all this material!” And then I got the idea. Rather
than dive into the grammar, I put them into teams. I told them to build a model
of a shelter or house out of anything they could find in the classroom. I pulled
out anything I thought was useful from the drawers of my desk--scrap paper,
staplers, paper clips, binder clips, rubber bands, markers…
I told them they had five minutes to make
their shelters, but I ended up giving them a little more time. They threw themselves
into it, working together to solve problems as they tackled what they thought was
an impossible task. Each structure came out unique. Not a finished work of art, but
something that hadn’t existed before. Something that we could talk about.
In the last few minutes of class, we described the shelters using some of the vocabulary we had learned (attic, balcony, porch, nomadic, weather-resistant, etc.), and started to compare them, previewing the grammar (“This one is more spacious than that one”). In the following class, I taught them the grammar, and they had more time to use it to compare all of the shelters. It was much more dynamic than my plan A, easy to throw together, and also meaningful and memorable.
In the last few minutes of class, we described the shelters using some of the vocabulary we had learned (attic, balcony, porch, nomadic, weather-resistant, etc.), and started to compare them, previewing the grammar (“This one is more spacious than that one”). In the following class, I taught them the grammar, and they had more time to use it to compare all of the shelters. It was much more dynamic than my plan A, easy to throw together, and also meaningful and memorable.
3. A smile goes a long way. Laughter goes even
further.
When I volunteered in an outstanding community soccer camp in Boston, I was advised to say everything with a smile. That included bad
news, like "I'm really sorry, but there isn't enough room for your child to enroll this
summer." I thought it might come across as irritatingly perky and fake,
and, depending on how it's delivered, it might. And yet I learned how the a
hint of a smile and the softening of my voice can work magic to diffuse a
difficult situation. There is a biblical proverb that says "a gentle
answer turns away wrath," and I have seen that happen many times over the
years in challenging situations.
So, to borrow a line from Hamilton: "Talk less, smile more," right?
Besides a smile, humor has always been a
welcome member of my classes. There’s a bit of a theater ham in me that makes frequent
appearances. In class, we’ll do uproarious games and skits, exaggerate
intonation, invent inside jokes. And I'm always thrilled when a student comes
up with their own joke in English! In the end, my job is not to entertain.
However, if through laughter they lower their guard, the process of learning becomes easier
and so much more enjoyable--for them and for me!
I love a good party. One where a welcoming
environment, as well as good food and drinks make it easy for different people to mix.
My old apartment in Quincy, Massachusetts was affectionately called QHOP, or
Quincy House of Parties. Countless greetings, meals, games, and conversations
happened there with people from all over the world.
Gracefully acting as both a host and a guest was another value learned as a volunteer that parallels my experience teaching. In North Cambridge, I was part of a team helping to unite a multicultural neighborhood through soccer. But it wasn’t the neighborhood where I lived. So I was simultaneously a host and a guest.
Gracefully acting as both a host and a guest was another value learned as a volunteer that parallels my experience teaching. In North Cambridge, I was part of a team helping to unite a multicultural neighborhood through soccer. But it wasn’t the neighborhood where I lived. So I was simultaneously a host and a guest.
Teaching internationals in Boston, I was in
many ways a host, introducing students to my culture and language. But I was
also a guest--at school cultural activities, or when students invited me to do
something after class. Even in class, as they used their English to share about
their backgrounds and traditions, I became a guest in my own classroom.
A guest in my own city, being taught by my students! |
Teaching Embassy Boston students how to decorate Christmas cookies after class! |
- Fill up a dish with enough food so that people won't be shy to help themselves (sometimes opting for the smaller dish to make it look like there is more food)
- Make sure friends from different places have had a proper introduction
- To prevent
an incredibly awkward moment from happening, keep extra toilet paper in an accessible place in the
bathroom!
Holiday sushi and cookie decorating party!
"Entertaining" is the word hosts use
to describe their role. They strive to wow guests with cooking or dazzle them
with decor. They transform themselves into a cheery, elegantly nimble person
who doesn't exist outside the party.
I may love theater, but I am no
entertainer. Especially in my own home. I've learned that a better idea to aim
for is "hospitality," receiving guests and strangers with warmth and
generosity. Because, let's face it, years later, or even a few weeks later,
your guests won't likely remember the color of the napkins or the
nicely-arranged hors d'oeuvres. But they will remember how you made them feel,
and some planning details are more important toward that goal than others.
Likewise, students won't remember every
grammar point or vocabulary term, but they will remember how they felt in my
classroom. This has far-reaching implications for their language acquisition,
as well as for their development as an individual, and as a global citizen. And
so, I try to make my classroom as hospitable as I can, and make it a party when
possible. Then, with the right mix of humor, generosity, and warmth, create an
environment where learning thrives.
5. Embrace the awkwardness.
Parties are awkward. Drinks spill. Names are
learned and then forgotten. Everyone is trying to make a good impression.
Dancing brings out the best and the worst in human social behavior.
It’s kind of like English class. There is often an odd mix of people who wouldn't be together otherwise. Students make
mistakes. (So do teachers.) Technology fails. Books sometimes have misprints.
Some days, everyone is just tired. I’ve learned to embrace the ungraceful, then
turn it around.
When students didn’t understand my
instructions, I made them laugh and explained again. When someone made an embarrassing
mistake, I had everyone drill the word together, drawing attention away from
the person and onto the troublesome word. When the power went out in the middle
of a lesson on unreal conditionals and I couldn’t use my slides, I made much
more memorable and relevant examples:
If the power hadn’t gone out…
If we had
lights right now…
And then there was that time I killed a
mosquito in the middle of a grammar lesson without blinking. That was a new,
uniquely Brazilian, teaching experience for me! I even found a way to connect
that clumsy swat to the target language.
Also, knowing the discomfort brought on by
speaking in a foreign language, I never make my students do anything I wouldn't
readily do myself! I'll embrace the awkward when it arrives, like an unexpected party guest, but I don't have to invite it every time.
Sometimes at a party I’ll be the first one to
get the dancing started. Not because I’m the life of the party, but because
someone had to do it, and I was feeling the rhythm. I just have to get others
to feel it, too.
That’s a lot of what teaching a language is
all about. Getting to know your people, creating a hospitable environment, and
then helping them catch the rhythm of a foreign tongue. And as I get them to
tune their ears and open their mouths and join the party, they start to see the
world differently. That’s when a new kind of magic happens. And that’s where
I’ll pick up next week, with five more things I’ve learned in ten years of
teaching.
Comments
#2: loved the living grammar illustration. I'm actually considering using it.
#4: loved your analogy parties/classrooms and how we act as both guests and hosts
#5 as you said, when we get our Ss to use the language and actually Join the party - that is, when they get to understand that the language is a valuable tool for them to share their ideas and values - some kind of magic happens.
I can definitely relate to most of what you said. Im sure most teachers can.
Thanks for sharing your lessons!! Cant wait to read the 5 last ones.