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.

chinatown

Recently I had a clearly extraordinary experience both professionally and culturally. I was contacted by a Chinese woman whose friend's child, a teenager, wanted English classes. That fact that her English in the email was understandable but very awkward (and I figured, she must be the one that speaks the best English, which is why it was her that wrote to me not the parents) should have been a wrong omen. Even more so, because when we spoke on the phone to arrange a personal meeting, she wanted to change to Hungarian, as something she spoke better. Chinese are known to have this very specific accent when it comes to speaking European languages that few natives understand. Unfortunately I wasn't among those few. It was a real challenge even to agree on the place and time to meet. But then I still thought I liked challenges.

The next day I found myself in a café with a jury of 6 Chinese staring at me. They were very nice and offered to buy me a tea, and then the negotiations started. The first question they made was whether I speak Chinese. Of course the question is valid, but it was a long shot. Then, they were wondering how I was planning to teach the boy who speaks no Hungarian, nor English. Well, to be honest, I had no idea the boy had no prior knowledge, given that I was informed he wants preparation for an all-English high school. I figured, that means a weak intermediate level, at least. Despite my surprise, I managed to wing it, explaining that with pictures, videos, and demonstrations it is not impossible. Surprisingly I convinced both my future clients and myself. The next question of the committee was where the classes could be and whether it was possible to have them at my place. As I confirmed, they went on with the interrogation: how big is my apartment, who lives there with me, what is his or her gender, etc. In my complete surprise, I kept answering but felt rather  puzzled where this would lead. Finally, they spat it out: they wanted the boy to stay with me for the nights as well, kind of like at a boarding school. I was speechless. To try to convince me, they kept repeating: money was not a problem. I felt as if being in some dream: I was offered a job which would make me filthy rich if I was willing to swallow a definite amount of awkwardness. I didn't give an answer then; we only arranged the first session of classes for the next day.

I was very stressed as I was preparing for the lessons. Never before was I faced with such a challenge that I need to teach someone without any common language. I realized, it was an added difficulty that he was Asian, probably not even knowing the Latin alphabet, which for us Europeans is at least a sound basis. It took me at least 4-5 hours to think of the tasks, find out bridging tools, and build a structure to a class (or rather three classes one after another) which I couldn't even imagine how it would go. 

Finally, the hour came, and the real difficulties arose from something I hadn't thought. They didn't know where my place was (despite the fact that the previous day they seemed to know, and I even sent them the address), so they called me on the phone three times for instructions, but neither of us got what the other said; it was a mess. Finally, they made it arriving 30 minutes late. But once we could get down to business, the class itself went very good! He indeed didn't know much English, had problems with the alphabet and writing, but his pronunciation and his will to learn was impressive. After two hours, we started to bond and like each other. I felt triumphant and proud to have met my challenge.

Then, the twist came. I got a call 45 minutes before the end of the class. It was one of the Chinese. I didn't get anything of what she was saying, so I gave the phone to the boy. It turned out the woman was standing in front of the door and I needed to let her in. She brought lunch. I was puzzled why she came at that moment. Was the class over? Otherwise how did she imagine she just comes and interrupts? There was no clear communication to me. In 10 minutes, the whole family arrived and invaded the apartment while speaking over my head in Chinese. I felt undescibably awkward, uncomfortable, and helpless. 6 people spread in my personal space and I had no control. At one point, the one that kind of spoke English said they wanted to stay for the last 30 minutes. I said, it was not a good idea. They still wanted and I still opposed. Eventually, the parents left and the "interpreter" stayed. It was still uncomfortable because she was sitting behind my back, either talking to the boy in Chinese, or laying down on my couch, or walking in my flat. I couldn't concentrate neither on him, nor on her. At the end I just wanted them out.

Overwhelmed by the whole experince and thinking that we mutually didn't like each other (I mean, with the student-teacher interaction there was no problem, but that's the least important factor when it is the parents who are the clients), I let go of the idea of getting rich. Amazingly, the next day they texted me at 8 AM that they are brining the boy in an hour. "No way", I said. When they asked if the next day was OK, I decided to give them another chance. In the evening, though, they cancelled, which was the end of the story. It turned out that they went to France. I figure, they sensed I am not the one that was going to board their child and they wanted him badly to learn English in just a couple of months. Money (and the child's comfort) didn't matter, so they just wanted to find a host, wherever.

To say the least, it was a tremendous culture shock for which I didn't even have to leave my home.

this goodbye

Last time I wrote you how my kid learner and I said goodbye to each other for the summer. Well, actually that turned out to be not a real goodbye, as she asked for another class before the vacation. I was moved that she convinced the parents to meet me one more time. As a matter of fact, I also was planning, because we always end bigger blocks with a conclusive poster, which is what I was preparing for the end as well. That class when the parents suddently told me this was the last, I still wasn't ready to deliver the closing collage project, so it felt awkward for me too to wave goodbye like this. But anyway, we won over the parents for a decent pre-vacation project: yay!

Every time we created something in class -- and it was almost always -- I took a photo of it. Not just for future reference, but also for future use. For these closing lessons, I always print some of these art projects of ours and build exercises around them, so we recall them both as learning experiences and as creative experiences. She can contemplate and comment on the material we learned and on the feelings their production triggered. I must say, it was very rewarding to do this last poster with her, because she kept saying how much she liked this and that. She picked at least 4-5 favorites. As far as language learning is concerned, we went through the alphabet, the numbers, the seasons and months, school subjects, clothing, sports, animals, and some cultural events like Saint Patrick's Day, Christmas, or Halloween. So far little grammar was introduced, because at this age she is not yet familiar with grammatical terms in her mother tongue either. 

At the end of the class, then, she gave me a chocolate she fancies ("Merci"), with a hand-written letter:

Dear Anna,

Thank you for teaching me.

Whit (sic) love,

L.

It was just adorable. Then she asked me if I am going to be stricter next year. ;-)

waiting for godot .. and summer

My kid learner just can't wait for the summer to come. Summer means sunshine and freedom for a kid. And no English classes. :-) As a farewell to the classes and a welcome to the vacation, we decided to make a poster about some of the things that might await her in the following months. 

First we selected and cut some pictures, typically from magazines and commercial material (see what all that crap is good for?). Then we collected a couple of words and phrases connected to and inspired by those images (because it is also about the associated feelings not just objective reality). We arranged the photos on the colorful paper and prepared labels to accompany them. Of course, we turned to her favorite tools: sticky notes. After putting everything in place and fixing them there by glue, we admired our work for a little while. Children like to comment what they like the most (and least :-).

Which do you think she liked the most: being with friends, bathing, hiking, or visiting exhibitions?

Obviously, the exhibition. :-) Check where her pencil was (accidentally) caught. Well, she's a future scholar. ;-)

Happy holidays, kids!

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.

persona

My kid learner invited me to her masquerade party at school. To my greatest surprise, trends changed a great deal (okay, this is not too surprising so far) and did so in a pretty controversial way (and this was the surprise). It is no longer that the students (and their families) individually decide on what kind of costume to wear and how to put it together, like in the "old days" of my childhood, which was a lot of fun. Instead, it is the community of the class that picks for the whole group (first shock) and they don't make but order the costumes (second shock). The biggest surprise, however, comes only now: girls got to be angels and boys were devils. Can it go worse? Girls nuns, boys rapists perhaps?

Some girls like the role of an angel, being in pure white and soft make-up. Although I find make-up a bit early at the age of 9, but let it be. But to force it to everyone, that is a serious problem. Also, while some boys enjoy the liberating role of being a prankster (but that's not devil, I may point out), I doubt it is a healthy message to the group of boys that they are as bad as the devil. 

You can say, I went too far, because this is not that serious. It is just meant to play with dichotomies like yin and yang, man and woman, bad and good. Exactly that is the problem. Because it is not as simple and clear-cut as mainstream culture (and education) would like to suggest. A girl thinking she must be perfect, otherwise she is not a girl, and a boy believing he cannot be nice, otherwise he is effeminate, is an end-product of such innocent school projects that no one benefits from.

i learned all this

At the end of the year, I like to summarize what we have done -- what material we have practiced and what skills we have developed. The goal is two-fold: I find it both effective and rewarding, for the student and for the teacher, to see the steps of progress.

What I did with my kid learner was that I collected the works of art we produced in the preceding months, took a photo of them, and designed some tasks connected to each. This way, we spent some time with appreciating the piece of art, while also refreshing and practicing the knowledge we had acquired during the creative process.

 My student was very enthusiastic about the summative-reflective manual work -- until I made an unfortunate decision and told her that I have a Christmas surprise for her. From that moment, she couldn't wait to get over and done with the before-so-exciting summary, so she can succumb to the overpowering curiosity that only a child (or a genius) can have. 

To put a fair end to the story, I also reflected on what I had learned: I learned, when with children, to speak as little as possible. :-)

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.

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!

the four seasons

My kid learner is always super enthusiastic about handicraft. If she can cut, glue, stick, or draw, that's heaven (for adults, it tends to be burning hell). The other day, however, I must admit I screwed up: I allowed her to draw her family as an appetizer to an exercise. Well, let's just say, we didn't see much of the main dish that day.

So, having learned from this, I have tried to design the tasks so they engage the kid's creativity but within boundaries, set by the given time frame. Last time, for example, we were covering the four seasons. I brought her a tree, which had parts of each season, and made it into a jigsaw puzzle. First, she needed to put them back together and write the names of the seasons to the appropriate quarter. Then, we went through the months, practicing the alphabet and spelling. Finally, she had to think of what she likes about each season,  scribble it on a post-it, and stick it onto the picture. 

 

By the end, we had a rather cute composition and we managed to produce it in one sitting. With children I find it emphatically important to have a proper ending (after the main dish, or even better, after the dessert), so they can digest it more easily.

scoop.it: a scoop of chocolate for me, please

To continue with online curation tools, let us now turn to Scoop.it! (www.scoop.it). Similar to Pinterest, Scoop.it! offers free registration. Once you added it to your browser, you can categorize, curate, and comment online materials, including text. Based on your key words of interest, it sends you a daily selection of various online content, scooped by others. 

I like Scoop.it! too, using it parallel to Pinterest. The tagging here is an advantage; though it doesn't always work as you would expect. Well, naming is quite subjective, isn't it?

Take a peek at my Visual Resumes folder. I just love visual resumes; they are imaginative, to-the-point, and convincing. Wouldn't it be useful for us, educators, to consider making a visual resume, instead of the boring CVs? Aren't we supposed to be creative? And so we are!

pinterest: pin your interests

As a teacher, one needs to be handy with online tools, because it is impossible to be always creating; you need to get comfortable with curating as well. One great tool is Pinterest (www.pinterest.com). It is simple, practical, and social. Once you registered and added the red icon of the pin to your browser (as a Chrome application for example), all for free, you can start creating boards, let's say, folders, of your interest, and then, you can start collecting your pins, let's say, visual files, from the internet. They can be images, animations, talks, films, etc. (though not documents). By doing so, you can sort your materials and keep them in one place; and what's more, you can check other people's collections and pin them, that is, add to your own.

Check out my boards. You may find stuff you like.

Teaser: I have a nice collection of some inspirational TED talks on education. Well yeah, who doesn't know Ken Robinson's hilarious talk? But do you know Rita Pierson or Tyler DeWitt? You'll love 'em!

a good start

I got a 10-year-old kid for private tutoring because her parents felt her school classes were not sufficient enough. In 2 years, they basically didn't practice anything but coloring their notebook. She was my first kid learner, so I went by instinct not by experience. We started with creating the alphabet: she had to write the letters on colorful stickers, glue them on the sheet, collect words with the letters she already knows, then glue pictures next to the appropriate letter.

 

By the end, she realized she did know quite a few English words; she learned to say the alphabet which she hadn't known before; and she made herself a fancy board to take home and practice the words from. When waving me goodbye after the class, she said she wished school classes were this much fun. (As for me, I felt to say I wished all my students were this enthusiastic and honest -- but I didn't say it. Because I am like most of my students: adult = reserved and polite.)

And next week she told me the ABC by heart.