to use or not to use

Do you use Prezi? Still not?! It has 40 million users and you are telling me you are not one of them?! What is your excuse?!

OK, I'll save you from the rest of the marketing bullshit. 

As an avid Prezilian and a dedicated educator, I have been evangelizing Prezi as a great educational tool. I gave a number of talks, seminars, and workshops, to introduce the benefits of this fairly young online software. Thanks to my researcher spirit, it also meant that I started surveying what people think about Prezi (gee, am I becoming a UX researcher?). The general opinion I encountered is strangely ambivalent. While most people are fascinated to see prezis, for their dynamism and spacial virtuosity, very few of them are comfortable when it comes to making them. In other words, a great number of people reach the point of user registration, with the intention to master this genial tool, but quite many of them end up entering their account once or twice only. More often than not, they quit after a couple of attempts. Simply speaking, it is because many people still find it too difficult and time-consuming, as compared to PowerPoint. 

Bearing this in mind, I tried to find and propose solutions for an easier prezi production. This is how I bumped into templates, whose sole purpose is to make the software more user-friendly. I figured, their use must be very frequent, given that people generally struggle with all the freedom, as far as content and design are concerned. So, following this hypothesis of mine, I launched a research project and accepted to present it at a conference. This conference was just yesterday.

I must admit as a start, my hypothesis proved wrong. People don't seem to use templates; in fact, because of the arrangements of the page, most of the templates (let's say, 80 out of 90) remain hidden for most users (they would need to discover a button and make a click to find the majority of the templates). Also, the templates are restricted to certain themes (football, space travel, botanics, journey, etc.), or they are very schematic (imagine five circles and four arrows); this means that it is limited what topic they can be ideal for. Thirdly, people have a hard time customizing them. If, say, they only need four cicles for their four main topics, and the template contains five, they are stuck (no kidding).

To present this topic, of course, I also made a prezi, using one of the templates (called Uncharted Territory). Since most of the times I start my prezis from blank, having to use a template was a more or less uncharted territory for me. My impression about them is that, for a starter, they are useful (you can get inspiration and tips how to construct a prezi), but once you become more expert, they seem to be too limiting (both theme- and stucture-wise).

Below you can click through my prezi. Full screen recommended.

exam

As a teacher, you get to know myriads of different types and kinds of people. It is your job to understand them, adjust to them, and learn to handle them. This, however, doesn't mean that you are not challenged, or occasionally even shocked, by them. A couple of months ago I told you about a major cultural shock I had with one of my students. Remember, the Chinese invasion. Besides the shocking behavioral culture, they surprised me with the expected outcome of the tutoring. The parents had set their minds to put the child in an English-speaking school from September, so he was supposed to master English, to pass an entrance exam, from zero, in two months. I occasionally think of the kid and wonder how he might be doing. I really liked him, but more emphatically I felt sorry for him for the domineering parents. After such cases I find myself concluding that it is so much harder to teach kids than adults, for two apparent reasons. On the one hand, with children, it is the parents who order and evaluate your service -- without being present and being realistic about the needs and abilities of the child. This can lead to false expectations and conflicts between the teacher and the parent, the teacher and the child, and maybe even between the child and the parent. On the other hand, when teaching kids -- who tend to be much more open and much less shielded than adults -- you get a very intimate insight into the family picture. More often than not, you notice deficiencies in that picture, but you have little space and limited rights to interfere. You may ask, you may comment, you may advise, but there is no recipe whether and how much you should involve yourself or accept; fight or leave; or something inbetween.

But then, I often realize adults are not much simpler either. I recently started to teach a young woman in her 30s who wanted to pass an exam in order to get a raise in her workplace. She came to me when she already had failed two exams. When I got into the picture, she had 1-2 months left till the last exam of the year. On the first occasion, I learned that she was planning to take a specialized exam for medical staff. While this made sense in theory (she being a nurse), when confronted with the specific exam tasks, I firmly believed it was a no-go. Although it was supposed to be intermediate, let's say B1, the reading was so difficult that even I had to check some of the vocabulary to comprehend the message. As for her, she practically didn't get anything out of it. At the end of the session, I tried to convince her to rethink her schedule, in order to spare herself another disappointment. She said she would think about it. For two weeks we were practicing these horribly complicated medical texts. She was progressing, getting more and more confident, but the goal was still way too far. 

After two weeks she informed me that she had changed her mind about the exam. She wouldn't take the one we were practicing for, because she didn't feel confident. She would try another one, a regular, which had an exam date one month later than we had calculated. I supported her decision. We started to practice more "real-life" English, not just the vocabulary drilling the previous exam required, and it was also a pleasant change that we had much more time to digest the material. I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel. 

But then came another twist. Next time we met, she told me she had third thoughts. She went back to believing that the medical exam would be more useful, so we needed to return to that. Four weeks were left. And then she had some family trip so we didn't have classes. And then we had classes but she started to panic so that's why we couldn't progress. And then... and then...

...and then came the exam.

The dilemma is the same in both cases. How much you care. You have to be a parent, a guide, a friend, a police officer, a therapist, an encyclopedia, Google Translate, and, at the same time, yourself. Finding the balance between connection and distance is the exam we, teachers, have to learn to pass.

BCN

July signals the end of the school year, when teachers finally get crazy and break free after a mentally and emotionally engaging (or sometimes devastating) period. As for me, I decided to use the time to work on my academic life, so I applied to go to a conference late June, early July. As the event was in Barcelona, I considered it half my vacation, half my reunion with my dormant scholar alterego. I must say, the trip turned out to be so successful in both, by going beyond expectations, that I have been feeling transformed ever since.

First of all, I had never been to Spain before, nor had I known what to expect from the Spanish (at that point I didn't even know that Catalans are not Spanish). The tips I got was: "watch out for your purse in Barcelona" and "prepare that people will not speak English". To be fair, I didn't encounter any personal insults but I did witness a thief running away from the beach with the stuff of a swimmer. Regarding English, it was indeed true that many locals didn't speak, but never before have I been helped this many times by locals (despite the language barrier). So expectations, to some level, were fulfilled. However, the experience left me enchanted much more than I could anticipate. It was not just the unique architecture and the pleasant geographical charateristics that mesmerized me, but it was the Catalan spirit as well. Like I wrote before about Ireland, I tend to be moved by resisters and fighters. Maybe because I view my country as one (although not a very successful one).

It was not just the city that was an interesting experience. The conference I went to present my topic -- this time about domestic violence in Hungary -- was so chaotic which I thought only Italians could produce. The organizers sent out several versions of the schedule in advance. According to one version, I was supposed to present my paper twice. When I pointed it out, they apologized and told me it was going to be on Thursday. Then in the next "final" version, I was scheduled for Friday. And with a wrong title. At this point I stopped myself from sending out the tenth email. We were debating about my presentation anyway. I informed then, just out of politeness, that I am bringing a prezi (not a powerpoint). They said, after a week, that I should make a ppt instead, because they cannot run prezis. My jaw dropped but I kept calm. Instead of expressing that I find it incredible that in an academic conference in Western Europe there is no computer that can manage such a (by now) basic program, I just sent them a link that described the technical requirements of running a prezi. I hoped this will open their eyes. But it didn't: still I was advised to change my prezi into a ppt. Naturally, I didn't. I still thought they were just lazy to deal with my request. And guess what, I was right. Their laptops -- what a surprise -- had no problem running my prezi! And again, guess what: my talk was rescheduled again. I was calmly sitting in the audience Thursday afternoon, knowing that I would present the next morning, when the moderators walked to me to say that according to their schedule it is my turn now. "You know what? If I present now, tomorrow I can go sightsee earlier" -- I thought. I gave a very pleasant speech (despite the theme), because I just didn't have the time to worry. And my prezi rocked.

The trip was interesting from a cultural point of view as well. At the conference I made friends with a couple of extraordinary people, even if you only consider their origins. We took this picture during one of the lunch breaks and titled it: From 4 continents. Ethiopia -- Sri Lanka -- Hungary -- Chile. It's a pity there was no one from Australia. :-D

how does your dog bark

As a linguist and a language learner, I have always been exposed to and interested in the issue of how much language is arbitrary. In plain terms, does the word form that denominate a certain concept have any internal logic? That is, does the word chair have any relation to the artifact we use for resting our buttocks on?

Etymology, the study of word origins, suggests that every word form is motivated, deriving from something related and meaningful. In the case of chair, the origin is Greek kathedra (through Latin cathedra), in which the stem is -hedra, meaning seat. In German, however, chair is Stuhl, whose origin is different: it comes from Proto-Indo-European *steh, just like stehen (to stand). One language emphasizes its function (that you can use it as a seat), while another its position (being erected, standing). Why does one language choose this form and this emphasis and another that form and that emphasis? This is what seems to be arbitrary, "random".

Animal sounds are somewhat different, as they are onomatopoeic (which means they are supposed to imitate the sound that they describe). So you would expect that dogs bark, cats meow, birds tweet, etc. the same way everywhere in the world. Well, not quite. Here's a short list of how dogs bark around the globe: woof-woof, bow-bow, vau-vau, blaf-blaf, guk-guk, mung-mung, hong-hong, wff-wff, au-au, bho-bho, and so on. Any preference? 

In one of the classes, my kid learner and I went through some of the main animal sounds in English, and I must say, I would have had troubles guessing some of them right. So much for onomatopoeia being universal. Do you want a challenge? Then identify the animals by their sounds:

cluck-cluck
hee-haw

ribbit-ribbit

thump-thump

squeak-squeak

to whit to whoo

.. and my kid's favorite: bla-bla-bla :-)

For the solutions, check the video.

see me

I've been teaching and analyzing presentations for years. Part of my routine is that I watch (and make my students watch) TED talks. Of course I have my favorites but I also test them with my students. A lot of people found Sir Ken Robinson hilarious and inspirational. Some, however, felt it was too much of a stand-up comedy. Also a large number of people gave positive feedback about Steve Jobs's Stanford Commencement Speech, or in more popular terms, on his How to Live Before You Die talk. Nevertheless, some critiqued that he was not being authentic and seems just like selling something. Simon Sinek's talk on the Golden Circle also received applause, but to the European ear his style seemed too manipulative in a number of cases. 

There was one speech only -- which by chance has been my favorite from the start -- that gained appreciation from everyone. And that was a presentation from a (for me) unknown Indian guy who charmed his audience not only with his simple, clear, and adorable message but also with his personality which he allowed to shine through every second of the talk (or rather, story-telling).

 

"Within infinite myths lie the truth. Who sees it all? Varuna has but a 1,000 eyes. Indra a 100. 

You and I only 2."

what a decade

A week ago I posted an infographic summary of the past and (possible) future of education. The image suggested that education changed and will change drastically, thanks to the rapid progress of technology. Teachers have to adjust to and make use of the advancements, not only to catch up with the technical knowledge and interests of their students but also to enhance the learning process. The tools technology provide us with (can) make classes more efficient if they are used consciously. 

Take presentations for example. It caught me as a surprise when I peeked back how my talks looked like during my academic years -- which were not a long time ago -- and how I do them nowadays. The other day I bumped into a poster I had made for my presentation on Space Race, no later than in 2004. My professor said, after my performance, that in the history of his teaching at the university, this was the best presentation he had ever seen. And partly, it had to do with my visuals. Check them out for yourselves:

On a large piece of paper (size A2), I placed the visual summary of the 6 main steps in the Space Race and my talk, to function as a timeline for the events. I only included the most relevant data, which were dates and names, putting the most stress on visual clarity. Some important pictures (like that of Sputnik and Yuri Gagarin, and the photo of the back of the Moon taken my Apollo 8 and Neil Armstrong's famous picture on the Moon) were accompanied by the national flags of "who came first." Quite clear -- but minimalistic (for the 21st century).

Just as a joke, I decided to make new visuals for the very same talk, to compare and contrast how I would do it today. And also to reveal what a giant leap technology made in just a decade. Back in 2004 my paper poster was unique. Today my prezi, a much more dynamic and spectacular visual support, would be appreciated but far from being exceptional. 

Of course, we should note that a presentation, or a class, doesn't depend solely on the looks but on the balance of content and looks (which our new age seems pretty often to be forgetting).

how to be positive

Although with business classes you are used to early morning or late evening classes, at the university you feel you have a choice and so do students. At the beginning of a semester, I  was shocked to realize that Scholarly Writing, the most difficult course I held, was scheduled early in the morning. By "difficult" I mean for the students. The course promised to be painstaking, because it involved a serious, creative process, writing -- both on the spot and in the form of home assignments. And students tend to agree with the quote, from Dorothy Parker, I like starting the course with:

"I hate writing. I love having written."

Foreseeing the troubles students were going to have, with the nature of the course and with the early hour (which at this age is a very serious problem), I decided to apply some of the methods I use in non-academic classes. I spent a couple of days brainstorming to find the appropriate warm-up activity that students would like and the course could use as a start. Eventually, I picked the popular and broad concept of music. The idea was that we start each class with a short piece of music (up to 5 minutes) that one of the students brings. This way, we get to know each other a bit better, we can build a stronger community, and we would overcome the problems specific to the start of the class, namely sleepiness corrupting concentration and late arrivals interrupting the flow. I tested the idea among my student-aged friends and it was approved.

You might ask how I integrated this task into the classes. Most of the times we had some short writing task connected to music, so students could feel this intro was not only about fun but also about work.

By now you must be dying to know how it went. I must say, it had a huge success. Students remembered and recalled it as a pleasant experience even way after the course ended. Because, as many students admitted, they "couldn't live without music." Apparently, I found a soft spot. 

Of course, I wouldn't be fair if I hadn't acknowledged that, while overall my choice was a success, it involved some less fortunate moments as well. It was just when I was exposed to its operation in practice that I realized how risky it was. Imagine, you have 15-20 students, each one different, with a different taste in music. And I handed the power of starting the class (that is, defining the tone of the class) to someone, whose mood and personality will influence us a great deal. For example, one student brought "Smack My Bitch Up" from Prodigy. It was not a positive start, but due to its extreme and well-known violence many people could isolate themselves from it, so the class was not wasted. One other time, however, someone's choice was a beautiful but devastatingly heart-breaking soundtrack. It killed us all. This was when I asked the group to pick something "positive" for the sake of all of us. Next class this is what one of them gave us as a positive start:

I love this song ever since. :-)

fail better

As I look back on the blog, I seem to have focused on sharing success stories. Well, on the one hand, naturally. Who would wanna dig herself into the memory of failures? (Actually, many people – the little voice cries out in my head. :-) While it is OK not to recite one’s misdemeanors and disappointments over and over again, it is necessary to face them every once in a while. Because, ultimately, they are there to teach us. So, let’s see my Top 3 Failures in Education.

ever tried. ever failed.

Number 3 failure story was set in a business English class of a group with a relatively high level of language competence. During the lessons, we watched TED talks, had extensive discussions, and gave presentations on various topics, from serious to fun ones. Since they liked short videos and authentic English, I decided, before that notorious class, to bring some excerpts from the well-known pop series Friends. Not only did I include some videos, the class was closely built on those short conversations we were supposed to watch. Friends had proved to be a hit in every previous context I used it, until this one. It was not only that almost no one had known the series and the characters (which I expected they would), but they couldn’t even follow the 2-3-minute conversations. And, as I said, all the activities were based on this. I don’t need to go into details: the class was wasted.

And I cannot even say that it had to be a total surprise. They were in their 30s-40s, that is, not the ideal age group for sitcoms, and it was obvious from previous experiences that they were not too up-to-date in pop culture either. If not to expect it, I could have at least considered the option of a plan B.

no matter. try again.

Number 2 was more (socially) devastating. As part of my teacher training, I had to teach English in a model high school for a couple of months. These 16-year-olds were my very first group and they mesmerized me completely. I still remember how shocked I was to see that my students always listened and did what I asked them (too bad reality is rarely like this, at least in high school contexts). We had a nice routine worked out: some grammar, some discussion, a variety of tasks, and … every fourth class some oral comprehension, in the frames of watching an episode of the series they had chosen, How I Met Your Mother. I didn’t particularly like HIMYM but they apparently did, which is what mattered.

Our last class was approaching, which was both my exam class and our farewell, so I wanted to prepare with something special. You know, something memorable. (How naive I was!) It was time for HIMYM and the upcoming episode had a particular scene – one character in a funny apron (having the body of Michelangelo’s David) – which I decided to bring to life. I thought, how funny, how cool. So, when the episode was over, I slowly turned to them, wearing the exact same apron – that is, a naked male body. They froze. It was so shockingly surprising for them – so unexpected from me, their teacher – that they couldn’t say a word. Well, the silence made me awfully conscious that I was standing butt-naked in front of a group of teenagers. Our worst nightmare, isn’t it?

Again, I could have expected. Or rather, I could have prepared them. They were too “nice students,” and I was a “too nice teacher” for something improper to be OK, let alone, hilarious.

fail again. fail better.

All-time-winning failure story was one of the courses I had to teach at the university. It is one thing that I never got courses in the discipline I specialized and did my doctoral studies in (cognitive linguistics). In a way, I even liked it. Presentation practice, academic writing, and blog writing were fields I felt important for all students to learn (much more than my own specialization, which I considered relevant only for a few) and I had things to say about them. Although I never systematically was taught about these, I was intuitively good at them, so it was enough to read a couple of books about them to make my knowledge more conscious and organized, ready for teaching.

Once, however, I was given a course I felt completely unprepared for. It was a specialization course, in the second year of a journalism program. By the time the students got to my course, they were already heavily trained about the journalistic genres, styles, and peculiarities of the American journalistic tradition. I, on the other hand, had no experience and no material to pass on. This course (American English in Journalism) was something nobody wanted to teach, nobody had an idea what and how to teach, and it was not embedded into the program. I was left without assistance – in the hands of a group of exceptionally self-confident and self-conscious students, who were encouraged and comfortable about expressing expectations.

I did my best, and, looking back, it was not a worthless course, but I can’t erase that semester-long feeling of inadequacy from my head. It was just horrible.

What did I learn from these experiences? That I can make mistakes and it is OK.

creativity?

Creativity is a crucial element in my life. It is as much my antidote to boredom and monotonicity, as it is my expression of vitality and presence. I cannot imagine teaching, or more generally, human relations, to survive without it. However, I had to realize that, even though this statement may hold true, what creativity means for the specific person or group of people is not self-evident. 

With children I tend to experience that creativity means handicraft, involving drawing, coloring, cutting, gluing, assembling, and so on, which must bring a tangible result -- a piece of art to take home.

For academic people, may they be students or professors, it is much more verbal production that is the safe manifestation of creativity. Debating challenging topics or writing dialogues and short essays functions as the canvas for them to express their intellectual power and creativity.

 

The toughest cookie, as far as creativity is concerned, seems to be the business environment. Accepting that it is a far too broad category, I still feel like grouping office jobs together, because, no matter what the specific topic and field is, they are quite standard in their expectation, and in the implications, of sticking the employees to their chairs for 8 hours. In such circumstances, the language teacher needs to be cautious with too much of creativity imposed on workers who, outside of the classes, are required much more to bear and conduct monotonous tasks. With business English students, what seemed to work is the variation of activities, each involving just a little bit of creativity, so to keep them within their comfort zones but to bring some color into the office black-and-white.

It also happened that someone just couldn't tolerate any extent of creativity. He refused to engage in pair assignments, situational tasks, or discussions involving personal opinion, let alone in the creation of his visual resume. I must say, I was struggling with him for a month until I managed to reconcile the group's needs, my expectations, and the dynamics of the class with his comfort zone. I don't intend to imply that he was wrong; he was just the exception, in that group. And it's a piercing dilemma how to "leave no man behind" but to satisfy the needs of the majority.

pro

Pronunciation is an important part of language learning. You have mastered a language if you manage to express yourself in a way that the majority understands you. With English, used as a common but foreign language by millions of people, it is tricky to decide what guidelines to follow when teaching pronunciation.

Do you pick one of the most dominant English-speaking cultures, say British or American? But then why not Irish, Canadian, Australian, South African, Nigerian, Indian, and the list could go on. Or do you expose the student to the dominant accent of the culture he/she will need to use the language in, say German English? Since for most students the destination is not this clear-cut or exclusive, do you choose to use different Englishes, giving up on a uniform, standardized input? Either way, it remains a dilemma, and most probably you will need to adjust the material to the needs of the specific student(s), while of course you won't be able to change your own (acquired, inherited, chosen, preferred) dialect. Or could you?

Check out this guy and be amazed by the variety of how English can sound and still be English.

Any preference?

from mentor mob to lesson paths

As the third useful site, let's see what LessonPaths (ex-MentorMob, http://www.lessonpaths.com/) can do for us. Like Pinterest and Scoop.it!, LessonPaths helps you gather and share online content into themed folders. What is more here, you can edit them into a playlist. After each step, let's say, track, you can pose a test question, to check if your students got the point, or simply to poke and entertain them before the next assignment. 

I put together a selection of talks for an academic course on presentation skills, but business learners were also interested in going through a public speech development. Even if you are neither, I bet you'll profit from giving it a go. Let educator Ken Robinson, entrepreneur Steve Jobs, and "magic pixie" Brene Brown take you on a journey of inspiration!

dear john

When I teach writing, may that be academic or business, I like to demonstrate the importance of something students like to hate and neglect: punctuation. After this task they usually take it more seriously. (Of course, to know how to use punctuation is another story, but learning always starts with getting interested to make efforts.) So, let's give it a go, shall we? Please read the following excerpt, lacking punctuation, and indicate the appropriate punctuation marks.

dear john i want a man who knows what love is all about you are generous kind thoughtful people who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior you have ruined me for other men i yearn for you i have no feelings whatsoever when we are apart i can be forever happy will you let me be yours marsha

Are you done? Was it easy, was it difficult? Usually, depending on the level of the competence, it takes more or less time for the students but everyone manages. It is just occasional that someone stops, looks up at me suspiciously, and cries out that I fooled them. Because it is ambiguous. It has two solutions. The love letter you most probably made this text into (misled by the color of the post) is just one of the solutions. See? Depending on how you use punctuation, you may end up in a break-up with someone you (would have) wished to marry.

Dear John, I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we are apart. I can be forever happy. Will you let me be yours? Marsha

Dear John, I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn. For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we are apart, I can be forever happy. Will you let me be? Yours, Marsha

Love it or hate it, admit to being impressed! :-)

you think you are...

Here's a comprehension task I love to give my students, mostly in academic courses but it would also fit the business setting. Try it and see how you like it. The instructions are simple: read the excerpt quickly and answer the questions below. It shouldn't take more than a minute. Go!

A builder, leaning out of a van, shouting ’nice legs’ to a nurse cycling by. The same nurse arrives at work, and casually mentions this to a senior doctor. The doctor says, ’I’d never say that’. The doctor has two grown-up children who are 22 and 30. One is a sergeant in the army; the other is training to be a hairdresser. The doctor divorced last year, and is currently dating someone.

Statements	true	false	don’t know
1. The builder was driving the van.
2. There was at least one man in the van.
3. Not every man mentioned would shout ’Nice legs’ to a passer-by.
4. The doctor is no longer living with his wife.
5. The doctor has a girlfriend.
6. The doctor’s son is in the army.
7. The younger child is training to be a hairdresser.
8. At some point a man spoke to a woman.
9. At least two of the people mentioned are men.
10. A woman is shouted at.

So, what were your answers? Don't cheat, don't look down here until you are done.

Well, surprise-surprise: to each of the questions the correct answer is "don't know." Nothing is specified in the text. Whatever you thought (the doctor being male, the nurse being female, the characters being heterosexual, etc.) all come from your stereotypes. Read again! See? It is all in our head.

And I say, our head, because no matter in what context and with what group I used the task, there was no one that ticked all ten correctly, neutrally. Not even those who considered themselves progressive and free of gender stereotypes. Including myself.

You think you are not biased. Think again.