http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/ A candid look at EFL life and lessons from a university teacher's perspective. en Copyright 2012 Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:35:48 +0900 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss But I can do more!" he is going to fail spectacularly. Yes, even very young children can sense that as we increase the complexity of a task the more likely we are to drop the ball. You know, like those one-man-bands that scour city squares in Europe busking for change, playing five instruments at once. Sure, he might be able to manage musically banal tunes like "When The Saints Go Marching In". But we know he's not going to be up to the task of playing Zappa's 'Inca Roads', finessing his way through microtones in 7/4 time. Or when my wife calls me at work while I'm analyzing some particularly dense bit of statistical research and wants to talk about details of re-financing the mortgage I'm going to have to put one of those topics aside (and rest assured my wife will not lose this contest). So yes, we all know that multi-tasking can be limiting. There's nothing particularly surprising about this. In fact I would say that we all understand this instinctively. "Multi-tasking degrades each task" This topic arises as a result of my attending Dr. Jeremy Harmer's plenary speech, 'The Myth of Multi-tasking and the Force of Focus" at the Thai TESOL Conference in Bangkok at the end of January 2012. Dr. Harmer appears to endorse, or at least considers very worthy of the attention of EFL/ESL teachers, the notion put forth by author Sherry Turkle (see the video link on Dr. Harmer's website) that when we multi-task we 'degrade' (her word, not mine) each task. Dr. Harmer (who, by the way, is the author of the highly recommendable Teacher Training textbook, "English Language Teaching") thinks that this notion may be applicable to ESL/EFL teaching as well. He argues that having students multi-task may reduce the quality of their work and that a more pronounced focus on discrete content or specific skill might be better. I beg to differ for three reasons that will eventually become apparent. When does task-shifting become multi-tasking? Multi-tasking, it is argued, is distinct from 'task-shifting' in which we move laterally from task to task as opposed to layering them. I have a semantic problem with this distinction though. Think of the chef who is managing several pots, pans, plates, ingredients, and heating devices at the same time so that the individual parts of the meal will be ready at the same time, or if it is a several-course meal, appear at proper intervals and in the correct order. Using standard nomenclature most would say that the chef is multi-tasking, because within a short time frame she has to manage several distinct tasks yet all are geared to one final goal or product. But whether we choose to categorize this action as multi-tasking or task-shifting does not negate the fact that any experienced cook can carry this complexity out as a matter of course, indeed it is a necessity on the job. When we ride a bicycle we are pedaling, a motion distinct from steering which of course we do simultaneously, and yet we are also watching out for traffic and road conditions and adjusting our movements accordingly. Surely this is also multi-tasking yet something that almost anyone can do (and probably while listening to Zappa's Inca Roads on an iPod too). This too is intuitive and, in a sense, unremarkable. Clearly, multi-tasking is not a can/can't proposition. We can on some occasions multi-task with no ill effect. So what is going on in such cases? Why can we multi-task some things and not others? Perhaps the question should not be whether we can or can't multi-task successfully but rather why in some cases multi-tasking reduces the effectiveness of each task while in other cases this is not an issue. Developing 'muscle memory' Obviously the development of 'muscle memory' through practicing a complex action has to be factored in. Riding a bike is a matter of developing muscle memory, as are in fact all motor skills of complexity. Mastering more complex multi-tasks demands practice practice. Richard Thompson is one of the most sublimely skilled guitarists on the planet and yet while he plays complex and dynamic cadences he sings with tremendous power and emotion. This is not only a result of world-class talent but also of having practiced and experienced multi-tasking to the point where it becomes second nature. And thus comes my first objection-- separating form and meaning in the EFL classroom to lessen the chances of overload will hinder a learner's ability to develop this linguistic muscle memory. Any separation of skills unnaturally divorces discrete language skills from meaning-making. This is precisely why many of our students can do well on a (receptive) multiple-choice, discrete-item English test but can't actively communicate. By dividing up the skills no path for muscle memory to occur can emerge. When multi-tasking actually enhances skills In some cases multi-tasking can actually enhance performance. Let me give you an example. Hockey (you knew that was coming didn't you!). Hockey involves ice skating, while manipulating a puck, while also avoiding being plastered by burly toothless men (an out-of-date caricature but what the hell), while attempting to make a strategic play resulting in a goal. Surely this is multi-tasking. But did you know that the discrete skill of skating is actually enhanced when you have to control a puck and avoid being checked? It's true. When you are less conscious of your feet but are focusing on the bigger, wider goal (the competition) you start to perform skating subtleties precisely because you are not so conscious of it. So, here's a hypothesis: We can't multi-task effectively when the tasks are not complementary and have differing goals or purposes (i.e., the 'interpreting linguistic research stats vs. discussing the re-financing the mortgage' scenario). But we can multi-task, with practice, when we know that each discrete task is part of a larger unit, that they are complementary. And these discrete skills can in fact be enhanced when they are working towards a common goal. The purpose of communication governs our grammatical choices Communicative language tasks are such. They demand a combination of discrete skills such as knowledge of grammar/syntax structure/form, semantics, pragmatics, social skills and the ability to cognitively grasp meaningful content. But because these skills are complementary and work towards a united purpose they should not be taught in an itemized way, practiced step by step, as discrete tasks. In fact, many of these discrete features might be enhanced by focusing on communicative goals first (those of you who speak Japanese well will probably have noticed how the 'difficult' parts of that language- such as the subtle distinction between 'wa' and 'ga'- fit in more easily when the wider communicative purpose is clear). I have noted how my medical students seem to grasp the perfective 'have' better after they have actively engaged it within extended medical contexts. After all, it is the purpose/goal of communication that governs our grammatical and lexical choices. I wouldn't want to dissuade teachers... This is not, of course, to say that no explicit focus upon discrete items should occur in the classroom. There is always a place for highlighting, consciousness-raising, and 'noticing' of form within a lesson but until it is subsumed by meaning it will always fall under the category of 'itemized knowledge about a language' as opposed to 'communicating in' a language. Nor does it imply that sudden, jarring shifts in classroom tasks or trying to combine multiple learning targets in one fell swoop, both of which are hallmarks of inexperienced teachers, does not bear forewarning and caution. But I wouldn't want to dissuade teachers from at least trying to develop cognitively demanding lessons that enhance dealing with language complexity. 'Analyzes paralyzes' In fact, not being entirely conscious of a discrete skill can help you succeed in more complex endeavors. Look at a golf swing, often referred to as 'the most analyzed move in sports'. Even non-golfers are probably aware that the swing is full of arcane instructions of the "the fingernail on the left ring finger must be pointed down at a 45 degree angle on the follow through" sort. But undue focus on such points when trying to make actual ball contact is likely to result in you spraying the ball about 10 metres at near right angles to your body-- not because the instruction is flawed, but because of the truth of the old adage that "analyzes paralyzes". And here's where we (in Japan in particular) can easily draw parallels with our students. Having had a lengthy focus upon discrete items and forms in their learning experiences thus far, our students often stumble when having to put form and meaning together into productive goal of communication. They over-analyze, too focused upon form over meaning. Content-based learning: "What about cognitive overload?" This also provides, a believe, a suitable response to a question put forward to me at a recent presentation I did in Yokohama in which I was advocating content-based learning. The question was "What about cognitive overload?". After all, the student has to focus upon content as well as form under such instruction. Well, my answer is the same-- that when the goal is meaningful communication, form and content can work in harmony, that they can, and do, complement one another. Learners absorb form by focusing upon interpreting and producing meaningful content precisely because the form can be 'located' in meaningful discourse. "But learning English will interfere with the mother tongue!" I certainly wouldn't want advocates of the old school interpreting Dr. Harmer's suggestion as meaning that we should be focusing upon one form at a time until each is mastered and not be concerned with the bigger picture of meaning until then (which will take a lifetime for most second-language learners). But I fear that it could easily be taken that way. And what about those who argue (wrongly, according to just about every piece of research done on the topic) that if Japanese youngsters start to learn English it will affect their ability to master their mother tongue? That Japanese must be fully mastered first or else it will lead to linguistic confusion? Criticism of multi-tasking seems to (inadvertently) play into the hands of such people. But we can do many things at once without degrading each. It's just a matter of knowing which tasks are complementary and compatible, and which aren't.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2012/02/multitasking_myth_or_method_of.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2012/02/multitasking_myth_or_method_of.html Conferences Grammar and vocabulary methodology theory Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:35:48 +0900 Neither of the two anecdotes above really happened. However, I've met, both in Japan and elsewhere (often at linguistics conferences), people who seem to think that it would be a natural reaction-- that not only are native-English speakers generally linguistic chauvinists but also believe that such attitudes are default settings-- acceptable, normal behaviour regarding one’s mother tongue. Not surprisingly such people are likely to take a similar attitude with their own languages. Yes, I've been told, bold-faced, that I would certainly feel chafed if I heard people not speaking English in Canada, wouldn't I??? (putting the whole French issue aside for a moment). As (I imagine) with most readers of this blog, my answer is absolutely not. It is unthinkable that I would ever think, let alone react, like that. In fact I will speak to my wife in Japanese anywhere in the world-- if only the two of us are talking. My rule is that on any given occasion the most acceptable language is that language which aids in reaching whatever the communicative goals are. Language is a tool and I'll use whichever tool is most likely to get the job done. As a tourist in a Anglophone country I will learn the greetings in the local tongue but beyond that will have to depend on English (sometimes apologetically so). The fact that my mother tongue happens to be the most widely spoken and understood in the world doesn't change the fact that this is the language that is going to get the job done for most outsiders. I don't like English My students often assume that English is or was my favourite subject. But I don't particularly like English. Nor do I dislike it any more than I like or dislike your average, ohhh, shovel. My mother tongue has little emotional impact for me. It is merely a tool, a means to some communicative end. But it seems that quite a few people find this hard to believe. The idea that a language can have a personal, emotional impact or be treated as a political weapon, having any function beyond being simply a means of communication, is hard for me to absorb. I can remotely imagine being raised using a rarely-heard tongue which has since been superseded by linguistically hegemonic forces and feeling it tied to my personal identity-- but for me that's an academic exercise. In fact, I've often gone out of my way to place myself in situations where I can't or won't hear English-- especially during my backpacker days when I ventured through about 50 countries all over the globe- a majority in which English was not widely used. I never felt that a part of me was lost in such English black holes, rather I felt stimulated by the unfamiliar environment. But maybe it's easy to feel this way when yours is the big language on the block. ‘We feel ashamed when this happens’ Recently I visited a tiny, nondescript, but unique craft beer shop located in the absolute suburban boonies of Kawasaki which from the outside looks just like your average Mom 'n Pop shop from the 60s. The proprietors (three middle-aged Japanese sisters who love craft beer- especially Belgian brews) were extremely happy to chat with me during my visit since I had come 'all the way from Miyazaki'. I asked them if they get many foreign customers (Japan-based beer connoisseurs may know of them online). A handful, they said. Can they all speak Japanese? I asked. No. What should we do then? How can we improve our English to speak to them? We feel ashamed when this happens. I told them that it wasn't incumbent upon them to learn English when the visitor is on their turf. It was the visitor's responsibility to learn the local language. And if the person was in Japan only temporarily I'm sure they could muddle through basic beer talk and purchases, but that there was hardly obligation for the sisters to learn English solely for this purpose-- and certainly not to the point of feeling ashamed. They were both shocked and relieved to hear this response, as if they didn't expect it at all. They assumed that English-speakers assumed (or even deserved) some type of linguistic entitlement. There seems to be a widespread belief in Japan that somehow Japanese are obligated to speak English to Westerners, and more to today's point, that somehow we expect or demand it. Because of this, some who can’t speak English feel a sense of shame or even dereliction of duty. And for some, this (unfounded for the most part) belief can lead to resentment and overt defensiveness. ‘You’re forcing me to use English’ Among those who are most prone to this response are, ironically, Japanese professors of English or other academics who are proficient in English (although this phenomenon is hardly limited to Japan). It seems that some see using English in Japan as a kind of kowtowing, the appeasement behaviour of submissive colonial subjects. I know of some cases where professors of English actually have rules that absolutely all conversations that take place between Japanese staff and non-Japanese staff must be in Japanese-- of course this includes all teacher meetings and briefings too. I know of cases where a Professor of English has demanded that non-Japanese English teachers give him a report in Japanese wholly and self-admittedly for the sake of testing that NJ teacher's Japanese level. I know of a few who tell their students in their initial classes things like, "I hate English". Once I asked (in Japanese of course) one such Professor why he held this type of policy. He answered that if foreigners weren't functional in Japanese they would be 'forcing' him to use English, which he seemed to regard as a particular burden. This, he added, represents typically arrogant Anglo-Saxon self-centeredness-- the assumption that eveyone had to speak English to them (yes, I know that Anglo-Saxons are often wrongly conflated with NES). This was followed by the predictable, "This is Japan. They should speak Japanese!" mantra. But most notable to me was the fact that the offense taken did not seem to be concerned with functionality, that such an NJ would be more useful if they were more proficient at Japanese, but was more emotionally laden-- that a lack of Japanese proficiency automatically constituted a type of cultural, even personal, disrespect. I've also met some academics and intellectuals who believe that Anglo-Saxon native English-speakers in particular are on a very conscious mission to propagate their language, willfully and acting as catalysts in making the language a global standard-- hoping to put ourselves in the linguistic driver's seat while everyone else is a mere passenger. And that we think this should be the case, believing English to be a superior language and all. (No, the ELTNews doesn't get kickbacks from the British Council). Competing lingua francas in the workplace English teachers in Japan in particular face a dilemma in this regard because there are competing lingua franca forces at play in our daily lives. Our basic working language is English, at least in the classroom. And there is no shortage of Japanese colleagues who prefer to interact in English. Now, I've blogged on this point before (in 'The Politics of Hello') but who am I to deny the Gakucho, who speaks English very well, when he opens a dialogue with me in English. Oddly though, the are also many who open dialogues with me in English but later, when talking to others, begrudge my alleged 'insistence' upon using English-- they seem to have assumed that I can not or will not use Japanese from the outset. (Sometimes students believe this too- even though I occasionally give some information or a summary in fluent Japanese in class they are surprised when they nervously come to my office for something and discover that I can and will deal with them in Japanese-- if that's the language they'd prefer to talk in). The 'J or E?' dilemma On the other hand, what should the protocol be when, at a meeting held in Japanese, a senior professor asks me a question-- in English? Since all other committee members are Japanese and have varying degrees of competency in English I think Japanese provides the most functional response, although I may add a brief English summary to please the questioner (who may have asked because he/she doesn't know I can manage in Japanese). On the other hand, if Professor A addresses me in English and I reply in English, Professor B, who is standing beside A, might well assume that Professor A is kowtowing to the arrogant neo-colonialist. Then B may think- Why don't his type bother to learn the local lingo? On the other hand, if I answer Professor A in Japanese it might sound like I'm not playing his game, that I will choose the mode of discourse, and moreover am insinuating that A's English isn't good enough to engage him/her in. It's a dilemma. I also have a minor dilemma when walking into Indian or Turkish (or similar) restaurants in Japan. Which language is going to be the most functional? Since their daily working language with most customers is going to be Japanese that would be my first choice. But sometimes they greet and treat me in English. If I sense that they are more comfortable in English then I'll go that route. However, if I use English from the outset I'm afraid I might come across as your typical Panama-hatted, white-suited "Speak to me in mah language boy!" plonker. And yet again on the other hand I may look like a show off or somehow unnatural using Japanese when the restaurant staff is perfectly conversant in English (though in fact they often are not). The reciprocal use of English I've had students in Japan though who've argued that when they go abroad as tourists they try to use English so when foreign tourists visit Japan they should learn Japanese. I remember once asking such a student where they had used English abroad and they answered, "Thailand, Italy, and France". Hmmm. I delicately mentioned that if we are to hold the principle of language equality then tourists and other visitors from Thailand, Italy and France should also speak English in Japan since no one in this entire equation is a native-English speaker. The reciprocal use of English as a second language holds both ways. Since they were still perplexed, I added, "Well you didn't speak Thai, their native tongue in Thailand right! You used English. So..." The point was made. Then again, some of these students were the same ones who thought I must live in an American-style house (while I was in Tokyo!) and that I got paid in dollars... Of course none of this justifies the attitudes of some NESs who walk into any and every non-English speaking scenario and treat the locals as if they were still living in Bumfluff, Idaho. If you can't manage the local parlance (i.e., you are a tourist, or if that person's English is clearly going to be superior to your version of their language, or if you truly suck at foreign languages but not for a lack of effort) showing at least some sense of humility and moderation is called for-- you are on their turf after all. But the widespread belief that English NSs can't or won't do so is, in my opinion, largely unwarranted. It goes without saying (although obviously I'm saying it anyway) that if you plan to live and work abroad you should do your damndest to learn the local lingo. You are obviously of more use at any workplace in Japan if you can manage meetings, information and interactions in Nihongo. But this is a functional reality-- like the fact that getting your car insurance or explaining your computer defect will run smoother when you do it in Japanese.-- it should not be an emotional or political one. Interpreting language inability as refusal, or unduly attributing chauvinist motives to the NSs in advance, and thus taking offense against the violation of the sanctity of your linguistic turf seems to me to be a bit overwrought. Functionality trumps sentiment at this point. ]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2012/01/language_warsthis_is_japan_spe.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2012/01/language_warsthis_is_japan_spe.html foreigners in Japan internationalization the political side Tue, 10 Jan 2012 11:04:53 +0900 1. English Teacher as Hero? Let me start by suggesting that you watch this life-affirming, heartwarming video showing an 8-month old baby boy with a cochlear implant hearing his mother's voice for the first time . I'm linking this because one of the doctor/professors at my university (one who I know quite well having helped with his English publications and played golf with him) played a pivotal role in the development of this device. The man's a hero. There's a part of me, of everybody I assume, that wants to be a hero too-- something that can make you look back on your life and allow you to say that you contributed to humanity so that you will be fondly remembered. Actually, I'd settle for being one of those veteran teachers who received a batch of flowers, a teary speech of thanks from the graduates, and a Sensei-with-the-students memorial slide show at the annual year-end Thank you party. But this always happens to someone else. I'm jealous. And even though these affairs are inevitably maudlin and a bit contrived, sometimes I want to be that special teacher who the students hold dearly in their hearts-- who they refer to as an inspiration later when they are inventing, oh, even better cochlear implants. But the reality is that teachers who try to too hard to be loved by their students can also often be seen as saps, pushovers-- 'pashiri' in Japanese. It's a bit like that overly needy guy at the singles bar-- the eligible ladies can smell need like an investment banker can smell an unearned bonus. And, yes, sometimes the most feted teachers have reputations as hardasses. And while the teacher who gains plaudits has often done something way, way, way above and beyond the call of duty, a real self-sacrifice of time and effort for his or her charges it is also possible that even if you do go all out you may still earn little no more recognition than an o-tsukare-sama from one of your peers. While I think I am generally quite liked by my students (knock on wood) I just can't imagine myself being a life-changing force for them. Correct me if you think I'm wrong, but there seems to be little that an English teacher can do (at least with university students) to become that hit movie-inspiring catalyst; the To Sir With Love type of mentor. Perhaps English teachers shouldn't strive to be heroes but merely aim at doing a good, solid 9-to-5 job and have no expectations beyond a basic appreciation from the students (and a half-decent salary). But what I'm wondering is-- have any readers been, or seen, English teachers lauded as heroes by students? How and why? I'm curious. 2. Demonstration Lessons and American Idol Ok, admit it. You have watched American Idol, even though it is to music appreciation what Greece is to fiscal responsibility. Since the candidates are given about 15 seconds to strut their stuff, the talented ones are pretty much required to indulge in a bout of vocal histrionics the whole time to show range and, I suppose, 'soul' (even if the tune would be more effective sung in a near monotone- I'm still waiting for some Celine Dion-esque diva to cover 'Autobahn'). It's basically a display of surface showmanship designed to impress celebrity judges, and is hardly indicative of what being a fully-fledged 'vocalist' entails. This reminds me a bit of English class demonstration lessons (which fortunately, we are not required to do here at Miyadai since we don't have to actively recruit, being a national university and all). The problem with demonstration lessons is that you are expected to do an appealing, representative, and educationally sound lesson-- but in 20 minutes, and with a bunch of students who don't know you, the school, nor each other. Now, generally speaking, one's best lessons tend to be those that have the following properties: 1. The lesson is connected to the one before and will connect to the one after. It fits naturally into the overall curriculum and stated purpose of the course. 2. There is a balance between teacher talk and student talk. 3. There has been sufficient introduction, presentation, or other groundwork laid before the meatiest part of the lesson-- the main task for the students-- is introduced. 4. As mentioned earlier, the students are at ease with the teacher and with each other. And the teacher knows what the students' abilities are, as well as what they have or haven't studied previously. 5. There is at least 60 minutes to pace and flesh the lesson out, especially to reinforce key teaching points at the end. And yet none of these qualities are options when doing the standard 20 minute song-and-dance demonstration lesson. So, my question to those readers who do demos is-- How exactly do you manage it? 3. English Contests in Japan-- And who should really be eligible? As most readers know, in Japan there are numerous English speech or debate contests. Theoretically, any student enrolled at a Japanese school school can enter (am I right?). So what about Pete? Pete is Canadian and has been in Japan only two years as his parents have been temporarily placed in the Nagoya office. He is, in every sense, a native English speaker. If Pete enters the contest would it demotivate other students? Does it somehow detract from the meaning or purpose of the competition? So, do you rule Pete out? If so, on what grounds? Then what about Tatianna. She's from Poland and has been in Japan for six years but has a pretty good facility with English due to her family's past and some education in Poland, not to mention that her father's international business is conducted in English. But she's not a native speaker so should she be eligible? If you were a judge and you saw her Western face would you judge her more harshly even though she's not really a native English speaker? Would you judge her more harshly than you would Ryo? Ryo is as Japanese as miso soup but he spent six years in the U.S. so his English is pretty close to native. Other students might feel disadvantaged by Ryo's appearance in the contest given his lengthy sojourn abroad, but it would be hard to disqualify him. Or would it? Then what about Izumi? Izumi's case will dovetail with many Uni-files readers', I imagine. Izumi is half-Japanese half-whatever, and of course a Japanese citizen, and has grown up almost exclusively in Japan. However Izumi speaks English to her Australian father at home so her English is native-like. And she looks more Western than Asian. Izumi has an advantage to be sure... but is it an unfair one? Is it any more unfair than the student who excels in science contests in no small part due to the fact that her mother is a Professor of Biochemistry at a prestigious university? If you were a judge, would you treat all of these contestants equally and objectively? And if not, shouldn't we tell the contestants who might not get equal treatment that they shouldn't waste their time because they have no chance of winning from the outset? I understand how a judge might think it's unfair for Pete to compete against your regular Yusuke or Sayuri in an English speech contest but where and how would you draw the line for participation and equal assessment? I can understand that it might feel 'unfair' or against the spirit of the competition if Pete wins the English speech contest, Tatianna is 2nd, Izumi 3rd and all others, your regular Yusukes and Sayuris, just also-rans. And it might further foster the notion that 'English is for foreigners'. But I'd like to know how you would handle this...because otherwise we might be wasting Pete, Tatianna, and Izumi's time and effort. 4. Mental illness? Anti-social? Or just weak-willed? We've all come across students who appear to have mental disorders and, in some cases, clinically confirmed mental disorders. The big question is, how do you handle this in terms of grading and credits? In some cases, you don't have to. The student with the disorder may be as intellectually capable and hard working as anyone else in the class and their effort and test grades end up reflecting this. And on the other extreme side of the equation, students who display full blown psychosis and simply can't function properly probably shouldn't be in class and need more intensive treatment. But I'm talking about that middle ground. You know, someone suffering from diagnosed depression or PSTD that is affecting performance. Do we cut them some slack in terms of grading their performance or, while considerate of their situations, are we bound only to grade the actual class performance regardless of external factors because otherwise it is unfair to the other students, since their grades are connected only to performance and not to personal issues? And if we choose to fail the afflicted student,shouldn't we be worried about the adverse effect this will have on their already fragile state? The choice to fail, or at least defer a passing grade, might seem callous but if we make allowances for students with depression, we can start making that allowance for a number of students in the class. We could make them for the anti-social students, the impossibly shy, the permanently sleepy, or the perpetually bored. After all, it is arguable that they too are suffering from some disorder even if it is hasn't been clinically diagnosed. Mental disorders exist on a continuum-- having had a doctor check it from a list doesn't make it any more real than the problems of a person who never thinks to visit the psych ward. Claiming some sort of exemption due to depression could become a convenient excuse. Even if the disorder has been clinically diagnosed, well, that may not mean much. These days the mere suggestion that you feel depressed is often sufficient to draw a get-out-of-work letter and/or meds from psychiatrists (I read Jon Ronson's The Psychopath Test recently on these matters-- I also know from Japanese doctors that this practice is much more common in Japan than it used to be). The problem is that since Fred feels depressed (as we all do at times), gets an official diagnosis and medication, we feel like we should go easy on him-- while Betty, who might have the same degree of depression as Fred, simply toughs it out and goes on with her work, home life, and social life despite how much of a struggle it all is. But we don't treat Betty with the kid gloves-- nor is she asking for them. This raises another issue for me-- should depression be an excuse for rude and anti-social acts? Should we look the other way when students with a diagnosed depression walk into class 30 minutes late, immediately put their heads down on their desks, are unresponsive to the teacher or peers, and leave whenever the feel like it because, hey, they're depressed dammit! It seems to me that depression should never be an excuse for anti-social or just plain rude, inconsiderate behaviour-- the pathology of being a sociopath is hardly a standard by-product of depression. The depressive is rarely psychotic and so can still judge the merits of their own actions. You and I both know enough people who have suffered from quite severe mental illnesses who still maintain a certain amount of social grace and persevere with duties and requirements even though they feel like zombies. (And yes, I've been subject to extreme changes where my spirit seems to be running out of my hands like water, where the real world almost appears like an apparition, and death and life do not seem so distinct-- thankfully much less so now than when I was younger). So, the question once again is, how do you deal with students with diagnosed mental disorders? 5. Is it coddling? As some readers may know I advocate giving students as much information, help, detailed outlines, and guidance as possible before they do tests or graded assignments-- with the goal of (hopefully) helping them to produce the best possible result. This includes giving them succesful old tests or assignments to look at, a list of textbook pages for study, I provide graphic outlines of what I expect them to do, do practice runs, prep classes etc. But, after a recent presentation in which I mentioned this approach, one attendee suggested that this might be coddling students too much. This seems to me to be a reasonable argument-- that by giving them too many preparatory pointers I may actually be making them more dependent on the teacher, inhibiting the development of their autonomy, and not letting them use their own academic study skills to work things out. So, the question (yet again) is... where do you stand on this? ]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/11/on_coddling_demo_lessons_engli.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/11/on_coddling_demo_lessons_engli.html Grading foreigners in Japan the political side the students Tue, 29 Nov 2011 09:41:17 +0900 Insular and incestuous reading habits It also serves as an excellent model to show how many people these days fail to read carefully or with insight or depth; how prejudices and false expectations colour our reading. As a result, subsequent praise or critique often miss the point. You can see this occur in numerous forums. With the advent of the internet in particular more and people read only a limited number of genres, often by periodicals or pundits they are familiar with and thus who they are likely to agree with. Reading in an intellectual echo chamber is a by-product of the vast selection the internet allows for. The problem is that the style one exposes oneself to can become insular, the content incestuous. Preaching to the choir is part and parcel of modern polemical exegesis. There is also the likelihood that people will read superficially, as attention spans decrease. With so much available to titillate many scan only headlines or the first paragraph. Should any twist, irony, or subtlety occur thereafter it is likely to be overlooked. Genre- readers with 'blurry vision' Many also fail to catch on to the appropriate genre of a text-- we all know members of the seemingly perpetual "they don't get it" crowd. We wouldn't normally start reading a horoscope with the same schema that we use when reading a phone book, a court document, or a love letter. But some people clearly have blurry vision, if not outright diplopia, when it comes to adopting the correct reading schema (and I'm not just talking about second language learners here, native speakers seem less and less adept in such tasks). They can't really read. For example, I've had people assume that this very column is supposed to be a place for presenting research. Some have written to the Daily Yomiuri newspaper (where I have a monthly column) chastising me for not reporting the facts or conducting interviews-- which always gives the editorial staff a bit of a laugh considering that everything about the layout, location, and tenor of the column screams, "COMMENTARY!" Tenor- and an 'IQ above the level of a Crustacean' Speaking of tenor, this is another area that many readers fail to grasp. The archetype is probably Dave Barry's old 'Mister Language Person' humour 'advice' column where, as Barry put it, anybody with an IQ above the level of a crustacean should be able to see that it is all a joke. Yet, Barry regularly received hundreds of angry letters questioning his so-called language expertise pointing out his dubious 'explanations'. (Closer to home, I once wrote a parody to which someone objected that the target of the parody had not in fact said those things that I had parodied. Hmmmm). Sometimes of course, the onus is also upon the writer to be cognizant of the conventions of the genre (both schematic and stylistic) that help the reader identify both genre and tenor. The lame 'I was only joking' response in cases where readers are left perplexed or even offended by the 'joke' doesn't cut it if the writer has failed to lay sufficient ground for humour-- if the writer hasn't used the signals and conventions that savvy readers might be expected to know. Regardless, the ability of many readers to accurately focus and interpret a text, particularly anything with complexity seems to be in a downward spiral. Regent College (not Big Ed's School O' Bible Learnin') Hence the Bible. Now, you might well be wondering if I have any authority to expound upon this topic. Well in fact, I did complete a Master's of Theology at a very well-known and highly-regarded place called Regent College, which is on the campus of UBC in Vancouver, is affiliated with UBC, and shares some faculty, credit and students. (Veteran readers of the Uni-files will know why I am stating all this-- because some people would like it to be believed that my degree was awarded by the academic equivalent of Big Ed's School O' Bible Learnin' and Transmission Repair). Because of my interest in theology, I also developed an interest in language, interpretation, communication, translation, exegesis, and hermeneutics and, towards the end of my degree, I began taking several linguistics courses at UBC proper (some of which counted towards my Master's in Theology and others of which went towards gaining an ESL Teacher's Certificate from UBC proper). This was also my main field of interest when getting a later MSc in Applied Linguistics. So, I'd like to think that this is a field I know something about. The Bible- not a self-help book by Dr. God Now, on to the Bible. We might want to start with a 'big picture' question, that is, what genre is the Bible? I'll answer this first by stating what it is not. It is not an apologia for itself. I've never understood the Christian witness' logic of telling skeptics that if they would just read the Bible they'd get it, or that the answers to all the problems in life are all there like it's just a big, black self-help book by Dr. God. I can't imagine anyone sitting down with it, in an attempt to decide if they believe it or 'agree' with it or not, and upon completion saying, "Yeah, that sounds about right to me!" The Bible is not trying to prove its own veracity-- it is the story of God and God's relationship with his people. Nor is it a handy-dandy rule book for living (save for bits of the Epistles, which were again written for very specific audiences) or some sort of cosmic legal treatise. The very Western (North American?) habit of prooftexting as to whether something is 'good' or 'right' or not by turning to some reference in the good book and using that to underscore God's alleged views regarding the issue of the day is, to my mind, often an abuse of the Bible. It could even be considered a light form of idolatry-- re-making God in man's image. No, Mabel, the book of Habakuk will not inspire you to know if carrot cake is the right item for the church bake sale or not. And, as many know, by treating the Bible in this piecemeal, de-contextualized, read-what-I-want-to-read fashion it is easy to find passages that seem to contradict other passages. This is because the Bible was never meant to be a moral rule book. It certainly deals with themes of morality and sin (and much more so than sins- plural) but much more in a holistic sense than a list of, say, swimming pool regulations. It is supposed to be after all, God's Word (singular) not God's words (which also raises some interesting analyses regarding the relevance of the whole 'inerrancy' argument-- but which I won't get into here). Yes, it is a narrative-- but is it 'historical?' So the Bible is, first and foremost, a narrative (although yes, other genres-- such as the aesthetic song-poem of Song of Solomon make appearances-- so the reader does have to make a few schematic shifts). It is a narrative about God's interaction with his creation-- the breakup and reconciliation between God and mankind (God's people). This also raises the importance of intensive reading themes such as audience, idiom, and intention. If, for example, the idiom and intention of the Bible, or of a particular section, was not to be literal then treating it as so would, for the believer, be an inaccurate or even abusive approach to God's Word. And, is it historical? It depends what you mean by history. Certainly the Bible refers to times, events, people and places that are real and does thus emphatically not take place in a Harry Potter-esque fantasy realm or some nether-bode of the Greek or Hindu Gods. Many of the references do correspond to what we know with certainty about history and geography. However, if you think of history of meaning, bluntly, a factual report of exactly what happened-- the truth and nothing but the objective truth etc. etc. Joe Friday School of Discourse model, then in fact almost nothing in the subject of history as a humanities discipline would meet the criterion, nor would the Bible. The bigger question is, does the Bible actually intend to be 'historical' in this sense? Can you read a stained glass window? Can Walter? In fact, the Bible begs to be read more with an understanding and appreciation of the development and realization of certain key theological themes (the lamb, kingship, purity, sin etc.) in tow-- much like a good movie or piece of music develops key themes, but often in a subtle or indirect manner, so as to have a more profound effect upon the viewer or listener. This can be difficult for modern readers much as 'reading' the stained glass windows of a great European cathedral is nearly impossible for most modern folks. We are, in this sense, illiterate. It could be said that, in a way, the Bible was not really written for Walter Steamkettle of Ames, Iowa (and his lovely wife Buelah). On the other hand, even the modern, Western reader knows that Jesus' parables are stories, that they are fiction used to make a point. We know that Revelations is an allegory. We adopt those reading schemas for such passages because they are presented according to that idiom. We don't take the parables 'literally'. The big question then is whether or not this applies to other aspects of reading the Bible too, such as the creation story (I say, 'yes'-- the Jewish idiom of that time regarding a 'day-- as just one example--' is far, far removed from the motifs of twenty-first century Western legal speech or television reportage). ...not concerned with objective 'accuracy' In this sense the Bible as a whole is not really concerned with providing detailed, objective 'accuracy'. In terms of providing the narrative (and the genre of the Bible is almost completely narrative) accuracy is subsumed by the need to make a theological point-- one that would not be lost on its original intended (Jewish in the OT) audience. The genealogies are a good example. You might well ask, "Why are these boring lists even there?" The point is to establish the kingship lineage of the Messiah, Jesus. If you try to read it as a standard, modern, family-tree genealogy it doesn't make logical sense-- both in terms of the various who-begat-who scenarios or in terms of historical time frames. But again, that was never the point-- and the originally intended readership would have understood this. A modern, Western legalistic-based society doesn't. Synoptic inconsistencies- not a problem This is also evident in the famous so-called 'synoptic problem'. What is the synoptic problem? The problem actually refers to questions regarding the development of the Gospel texts but what I'd like to focus upon here are the alleged inconsistencies found between the first three (synopctic) gospel testimonies-- recounting the life of Christ. Now, if this really was a problem, the Nicean Council, and other early councils involved in the establishment of the Biblical canon would certainly have noted these apparent inconsistencies and alleged contradictions-- if they were modern lawyer-types they would have done their best to smooth out or otherwise harmonize all the details. After all, we're talking about people who knew every jot and tittle of scripture, people who scrupulously studied every minute detail. But they didn't-- because that was never the point of the Gospels, the writers of which were concerned with different themes and angles from a theological perspective (read: different emphases). It is only 'the point' if your schema for understanding the notion of truthfulness is based upon that of alibis procured from suspects in a crime-- if they aren't consistent then, yes, someone's story is fishy. But in fact the Bible is not concerned with getting all the time, place and word details exact. It is more interesting in telling the story to make a theological point-- which was how it would be read at that time and place. The issue of complete and full accuracy is moot. This also explains why the Gnostic Gospels and other texts were never accepted into the (standard) Biblical canon. Theologically they don't cohere. It's like having a tuba player in a string quartet. It's similar to the Halloween Simpsons episodes, where the rules of Springfield animation are broken (but at least the Simpsons' audience understand this once-a-year-we-make-an-exception idiom). The Bible: A movie trailer Most people would also tell you that, based on the Bible, Christianity presents a model in which good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell. This popular reduction is intriguing because most of the Bible in fact presents something quite different. If the story were to be written as a movie-of-the-week trailer it would probably read something like this: God (Morgan Freeman) makes mankind, a perfect creation, in God's image but mankind, using free will, rebels against God. This state (sin, played by Justin Bieber) becomes the cause of man's distancing from God and the source of all man's troubles on earth. Mankind tries to make his way back into God's good graces through acts of goodness and sacrifice but stained by that original rebellious act, mankind always falls short. Therefore, it is up to God to reconcile the relationship, which God does by making himself into a human (Jesus-- played by Johnny Depp) who becomes the sufficient sacrifice for all mankind (since he is not tainted by sin) through being killed, and thereby ultimately transgressing death, man's usual fate. Through this act, mankind is now reconciled to God, since faith in this man-God Jesus, whose act of sacrifice opened the door to all mankind. P.S. No, I'm not going to explain the Holy Trinity. It actually sounds like a decent science-fiction flick--- and I don't mean that in a derisive sense at all. All the meaningful human themes are there and on a grand, cosmic scale. It is actually very deep and complex yet something that connects to the human condition of all people. Personally, I gave up on professional Christianity a while ago because there was so much in its modern manifestations and practices that was at odds with my... well, my spirit. But I still retain a sense of the mystical, the spirituality of things, and a lasting sense that behind this confusing, exasperating book-- there is something real and profound (although it would be a lot easier for me psychologically if I believed that life and mankind was just physics and chemistry). Go ahead and ask me your theological questions and I'll do my best to answer-- as someone who has struggled with the big book both spiritually and analytically. And next week I'll be back on track talking about the ESL classroom again.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/11/how_to_read_a_bible.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/11/how_to_read_a_bible.html theory what you didn't know... Tue, 15 Nov 2011 09:01:16 +0900 this recent (Oct. 21st) article in the Daily Yomiuri newspaper. Since I know that some readers are unlikely to click the link and read the original from start to finish, let me summarize it. The article talks about how spot checks on 855 teachers at 191 public schools in four prefectures were found to have 'misused' a total of 4575 working hours over "recent years". These ne'er-do-wells will be asked to pay back the amount of salary they absconded with in terms of absenteeism. 30 seconds per day First, let's do some math. 4575 misused working hours divided by 855 teachers is just over 5 hours per teacher. Let's choose two years as the base timeline-- that's about 580 working days. So, a whole 5 hours per teacher on average were found to have been wasted over two years. This amounts to about thirty entire seconds per day not spent on activities related to their work. As a taxpayer, I am appalled that thirty seconds which could, indeed should, have been spent putting a happy face sticker on one more student's report on "Prefab Huts- Our Underappreciated Friends", has been spent doing something as unproductive and self-indulgent as, oh, getting some exercise. According to the article, "The Board of Audit [aka 'Hall Monitors'] intends to ask in its audit report that the Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Ministry [now, apparently, the Justice and Labour ministries as well] order such teachers to return part of their salaries to the state". No doubt the money will be put to public service of great utility, such as providing one extra twenty-page 'shiryo' for the sub-section chief's assistant secretary who missed the meeting on, "Confirming the previous sub-committee's decision to acknowledge Septic Tank Appreciation Week in specially-designated parts of Gunma Prefecture." It's payback time...To me! Here's a novel idea. If teachers who misused working hours should have to pay back that proportion of their salaries how about paying extra for all the work that teachers did outside their prescribed working hours!? You know, all those extracurricular activities, PTA doodads, extra help for either gifted or troubled students, not to mention test-making or marking at home and other above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty sacrifices that most teachers make. I mean, if you want to get all anal about working hours, well, that sword cuts both ways. These shiftless, parasitical teachers' apparent misdemeanours included, "engaging in activities unrelated to their jobs." OK, some were found to be involved in union activities and related work during their working time. That is indeed in violation of public workers' protocol. And yes, teachers who simply disappear for a day or don't even bother dropping by on work days should be reprimanded, especially when their absence forces somebody else to carry the load. But those rare frequent-absentee types are hardly the kind of teachers this wrist-slapping seems to be targeting. 'Holidays' and 'vacations' as working time How so? Well, another claim made in the article was that at 82 schools in Hokkaido, just over 2000 hours was lost because some teachers did not work "during working hours even though they were required to be at schools during long-term holiday periods such as summer vacation". Now, did anyone else catch the oxymoronic (or just moronic) conflation of "working hours" with "holiday periods" and "summer vacation" above? Again, over a one-month summer holiday plus period, about 24 hours per school was lost- or one hour per day among the entire staff! And, yes, we are talking about the season when students do not come to school yet teachers are still required to be at their prescribed working stations from at least 8:30 to 17:15. Why? Is school supposed to be like a bank or something with set public opening and closing hours? Criminal evidence exhibits How did the audit board discover this scandalous deception? One way was by noting that, "... in some cases teachers turned off the security systems after working hours started or turned them on before working hours ended". Yeah, they left work and correctly activated the security system. Does not being in their seats mean they weren't working? Conversely, does being in the school mean they were being useful or productive? More evidence of criminal behaviour: "In one case, the reported training venue was a library, but the facility was closed on that day". This happened one whole time! It seems that this scofflaw behaviour has reached epidemic proportions. Charged with attempting to better yourself More skullduggery is exposed: "At 19 schools in Okinawa Prefecture, teachers took extended breaks in working hours during schools' summer vacations, or attended meetings of educational research organizations not related to their work without using their paid holidays for the purpose. There were 208 teachers involved in these cases, who misused 1,183 hours". Now let me get this straight. These teachers are being criticized for attending meetings of educational research organizations (such as, I presume, going to something like an ETJ or JALT conference or workshop) during their summer 'holidays' and should be penalized because they didn't use their official days off to do so?!?! I mean, these teachers are using their work time to better themselves as teachers, to learn more about their craft, and yet they should be regarded as moral lepers? As if they would be achieving much more of value for their profession by sitting at their teacher's room cubicles reading newspapers or trying out 50 different fonts for the new, seasonal PTA o-shirase forms? Or maybe they took lunch breaks that lasted longer than the standard 45 minutes. Yes, I too confess to occasionally jumping into my Swift and going out for a decent meal when I'm not rushed for lunch. It may last up to a whole (gasp!) hour. But the next day, with classes right before and after lunch, I'm shoveling a 150 yen tuna 'n ham Sando down my throat over 10 minutes while dealing with some bureaucratic twaddle (and there is a staggering amount of this stuff at the national university level) which was emailed this morning with a 1 PM deadline. That's my lunch break. Teaching is neither retail nor factory work The audit board (aka "The Man") apparently gained their data by checking entries in the teachers' attendance records and by interviewing teachers. As we all know, asking teachers about the activities of their peers is a sure-fire way to get statistically objective truths. As for 'attendance records' -- I mean, what is this, a Springsteen-esque factory from the 50's? Punch in time- punch out time--- with time cards collected and checked before paypackets are dispensed? Mother, or rather bossypants nanny-types, know best. Sure, I can understand that if you work in retail you can't just walk out of the shop for a stroll while customers may be at the door. And I understand that factory workers can't just shuffle off home at any hour without having to face the music. But teaching is neither retail nor factory work. I find the whole attitude towards work in this article to be an unwelcome throwback to what should be a bygone era. It reeks of the "real work means sitting at your desk in an office" mentality, which is one of the things I find least endearing about typical Japanese workplace settings (and I'm sure that many Japanese will agree with me on this). Of course, while being observed by big brother at your cubby hole you will do your best to string one hour's worth of work over eight. It's far from being productive (which is what the real criteria of working should be based upon) but, hey, it looks like you're working, so kudos to you. It also reminds me of the opening scene from The Flintstones. When the quarry end-of-shift alarm rings Fred immediately lets out a joyous whoop and slides off his dinosaur to head home. The alarm sounds so his work day is done. Or it's redolent of some industrial revolution Dickensian sweatshop where well-fed men with whips monitor the workers to make sure that no one is so much as rubbing their eyes while on the bosses' time. Should this be the model applied to the teachers' room? But I'm also wondering about the psychological and physical costs invoked by having people sitting dutifully at their desks for 10 or so hours-- how much they end up spending on drink or cigarettes to reduce boredom or stress, how much they spend on chiropractic treatment or days taken off because of general poor health. Let's weigh all that against the money 'lost' by the miscreant teachers. The heights of self-indulgence-- producing from home! The fact is that most teacher-related work can and does get spread out over and beyond non 9-to-5 times and the fact is that much can be done at home. Again, it's not an office or factory job. For example, since I live near my campus I occasionally drop by my home for a short time during 'working hours' because I can actually concentrate better on things like making teaching materials, grading, writing up research etc. Sometimes I actually-- oh I am a slave to self indulgence-- play a CD to enhance my concentration while I do so. John Taxpayer must surely be bristling. Come and get me Audit Board! You can drop by and check what I'm up to on Saturday or Sunday but-- oh--- I might be busy marking homework or making new materials in this, my-- ahem-- free time. In fact, this approach to work spawns a whole cottage industry of looking-like-you're working-hard behaviours, such as leaving work and locking your door but keeping your lights on so it looks like you're hard at work. And even if you are in your office, nobody can see that you are actually deeply engaged in a epic bout of World of Warcraft. Everyone thinks you're putting in your 'working hours' and hey, that's what counts. Then there's the morning vs. evening impression-making factor (at my university at least). I have a lot of morning classes so I arrive at or before 8 (and yes, after reading the article I want to be compensated for the work I do between that time and my official work starting time) and no one else is there. I go to my morning classes 8:40-12:00 (lights off in my room-- environment and all) and upon my return to my office, see that others have since arrived, at 10 or 11. These same people stay until 7 or 8 PM, which in Japan is when you get real credit for 'working hard,' while good old Mike is heading off at 5:15 to pick up his daughter from nursery school. The lazy git! The hockey vs. soccer player working models Working styles differ too. Myself, I'm the type who works feverishly for spurts of one hour or two. When I concentrate I am, with all due modesty, probably in the very top percentile of human productivity-- but I can't keep this up for eight or more hours. Yet I get everything done-- and then some. So, after an intense spurt of activity I do take some time to watch a Youtube video, check hockey scores, or book a hotel for an upcoming family trip. For these indiscretions I think I owe each taxpayer reading this article approximately 2.6 yen. Hansei shimasu. The fact is, I work more like a hockey player than a soccer player. The soccer player has to (usually) stay on for the full ninety minutes and thus must pace himself, whereas the hockey player has to go all out for one-minute shifts before heading to the bench for recuperation. Since my productivity is equal to (or even exceeds) most should I be penalized for my working habits? (This is a rhetorical question. Don't say 'yes'). "Moral failings as members of society" The symphony continues: "About 9.4 million yen was spent on this misused time in Hokkaido and Okinawa Prefecture". Ummm ok. And how much did it cost to carry out this audit and produce the report, pray tell? And then: "Teachers should never be paid when they're not actually working," said constitutional expert Prof. Setsu Kobayashi of Keio University. Let me speculate as to what Professor Kobayashi might want to add to this statement: "If them coolies ain't actually pickin' cotton or diggin' ditches theys be sluffin' off. Ain't happenin' on my watch!" (Cocks his gun on the plantation wraparound verandah). In fact, the good Professor also said, "This is not just a problem with them as teachers, but a moral failing [as members of society]." Yeah. And maybe Professor Setsu "Monty Burns" Kobayashi and the Audit Board should update their understanding of what 'teaching' and 'work' mean to,oh, a post World War 2 model. ]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/workshy_layabout_teachers_shou.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/workshy_layabout_teachers_shou.html In the real world Management daily workload working conditions Mon, 31 Oct 2011 12:41:50 +0900 Charisma fans... Like most people, I enjoy the Charisma Man comics. The pretext of the dopey white loser from 'Planet Canada' who is transformed (at least in his own mind) into a desirable English-teaching he-stud superman when in Japan is clever. And everyone gets tagged. White guys are pathetic, untalented, wimps whose egos and self-images soar to preposterous proportions in Japan. Western women, Charisma Man's mortal enemies, are cantankerous, aggressive shrews. Japanese women are treated as goggle-eyed, bimboesque playthings. Japanese men are portrayed as goofy, socially awkward, xenophobes. Non-white, non-Japanese people don't seem to exist. Of course the stereotypes are overblown- and we thus occasionally we spot a bit of ourselves or people we know in the caricatures. Harmless self-deprecating ironic fun. No, the problem isn't with the comic itself but rather how the personae has been appropriated by the NJ community as a catch-all, go-to prototype for just about any Western male in the EFL profession in Japan. It was once amusing but now it has become too predictable. The thing is, among NJ circles in Japan the only caricatures among the above that people feel confident about actually applying (without fear of reproach) are the two about the males. (not being Japanese I can't speak for the men here but I think they get the worst stereotype rap, and particularly from the type of people who rail against any type of stereotyping). Back-home loser But ok. I'm supposed to be 'privileged' as a WM in Asia so I have to take the lumps that come with it. The group who allegedly controls the power and the narrative has to accept being a legitimate target-- or so the whole social karma meme seems to go. We have to accept the barbs with good grace. So I will suffer the slings of being thought of as a spotty-faced, romantically-challenged, back-home loser, whose only previously qualifications were manning the grill at a fast food joint-- even though this portrayal is highly inaccurate (I got promoted to the drive-thru window!) But Western WMs whining about oppression is unseemly. So instead, let me put it in terms of the Charisma Man label not only being inaccurate but also as having become tired, passe, hackneyed, overdone, past its sell-by date. It has become the default 'touche' reproach of choice for the most minor of alleged WM transgressions. In short, it has jumped the shark. 'Cholesterol Man?' Perhaps we need a new character to represent the WM English-teaching-in-Japan demographic (how about a cynical 40-something, left-leaning, highly computer-literate, twice divorced borderline alcoholic, with a bit of a paunch, poor grooming and fashion sense, who thinks 50-year old political slogans are still radically subversive-- Cholesterol Man, anyone?) Why? For one thing, I would say that economics has caused the number of fly-by-night English teachers to have dropped and long-termers are now ubiquitous. Jobs are precious- more teachers are more serious about being serious. And it's also because the reality is that we live with some of the burdens of the Charisma Man image but without reaping any of the benefits. I wish it were true that comely women threw themselves at me with abandon but that hasn't happened -- oh, for days! And of course attempts to validate the Charisma Man caricature are particularly insulting to Japanese women, since it assumes they are so isolated, naive, or insulated that they have low, or no, standards when it comes to rating the attractiveness of foreign men-- as if they have never as much as seen a photo of men like Jude Law or David Beckham. 30 plus years ago, sure we may have been a touch exotic in the smaller J-burgs perhaps, but in the new millennium, when every Japanese woman under 40 has either travelled abroad or has at least seen a few thousand or so foreign men in their cities? Sorry- dream on, Romeo! Any such illusions of self-grandeur Western men have in Japan these days evaporates about 15 minutes after Mr. Newbie has passed through immigration control. 'You actually have qualifications?' I also wish that my Charisma-isms were so highly regarded in the workplace that doors opened up for me without effort but really, how many foreigners here can say that their foreignness has been a catalyst, rather than a detriment, in terms of gaining long-term employment or meaningful promotion? I know that in my own position I have to keep proving to some of my peers that I have an academic pedigree, that I can and do produce research and am not simply here as the token ( and by extension, expendable) foreign guy (beautiful as I may be) who chats in English to goggle-eyed students. You know, things like being labeled 'Mike sensei' at faculty meetings (which is particularly galling if your name isn't 'Mike'), being introduced as 'our foreign teacher', or having peers be surprised that you actually have a graduate degree in the field and a list of publications. (Disclaimer- while only the latter has happened at my current place of employment, I have encountered all of them in various locales previously-- from both Japanese and NJ, male and female alike-- as have many other teachers in positions similar to mine). We don't need these scenarios exacerbated by the Charisma Man shtick. "Licentious Linguistics" I attended a presentation called "Licentious Linguistics: White Western Men as English Teachers in Japan" by Dr. Roslyn Appleby from the University of Technology, Sydney at the Beijing AILA Conference earlier this year. Appleby's observations (she hasn't worked or lived in Japan herself) were based upon several interviews with young Australian men, most with minimum teaching qualifications, who had in their formative (between graduation and finding a career) years worked as English teachers in Japan. And... here comes the part that you will not believe so please grip your armrests tightly ...they spent a lot of time carousing with local girls. Moreso, it seems, than in becoming serious, skilled ESL teachers. Whodathunkit?! Moreover, the presenter noted, the image of meeting an attractive WM chat partner (or more) through the Eikaiwa school was a part of many advertisement campaigns (forget for a moment that just about every such school expressly forbids dalliances with customers since any would-be-lothario is siphoning off potential income from the business as well as the fact that attractive WF are equally present in the ads). Businesses using attractive or eligible-looking role models to lure customers?! Surely not! And guess what? Germans occasionally drink beer! Not surprisingly Charisma Man outtakes occupied a good number of Appleby's presentation slides. The problem is that these days just about every white guy teaching English in Japan gets tagged with the Charisma Man brand at some point, especially if his wife/gf is Japanese. I think the current criteria for being labeled a Charisma Man, other than being a white male in Japan, consists of roughly, 1) having drunk a beer in close proximity to another white guy and 2) having ever talked about local women. A typical claim may go like this: WM: (to the izakaya waitress) I'll have a Suntory Premium. (The waitress goes away. Then, to a fellow imbibing teacher) Hmmm. Friendly waitress. Fellow Imbiber: Jeez, get a load of Charisma Man here! WM: That's it. I'm outta here. I've got a softball game at my frat house tonight. (Chugs his beer) Such Charisma Man accusations occur even if the person in question has been here in Japan over ten years, speaks the language, is happily married, does his academic research, doesn't feel obligated to chat up young ladies in bars, and has no illusions about his worsening metabolism or memories of a hairline. I mean, I can enjoy self-delusion to a point, but as a middle-aged university teacher I cannot allow me to envision myself as Charisma Man to my students anymore than I can daydream that I am Sidney Crosby when I go ice-skating. Casey's 'unfair' response Anyway, after Appleby's presentation, I was approached by a fellow Japan-based dead white male university teacher who had attended the same presentation and looked a bit put out. We'll call him Casey. Casey is a man of such gentle countenance, so widely known for his philanthropy and egalitarianism, that he makes Peter Gabriel look like a football hooligan. There is more chance of Ichiro Ozawa starring in a Takazakura Revue show than there is of Casey chatting up ladies in the local izakaya. "Mike, what did you think of that presentation?" Casey asked. Now, any fist-waving histrionics about it being a man-hate fest wouldn't be warranted-- it wasn't like that at all. It was well-presented, nothing incendiary. I remarked that I didn't understand the point of making this into a presentation theme. I mean, some young Aussie males go abroad to teach English, are less than serious about ESL, and chase girls. I'm not sure how or why that is something that needs to be conveyed at a linguistics conference. "I thought it was a little.... unfair", Casey replied. "Not really representative of English teachers in Japan". He added (correctly IMO) that the sample of men interviewed represented a pretty narrow sub-culture of white, Western men in Japan, namely 'bogans' (actually, Casey didn't use that bit of Aussie slang but if you're not familiar with it the mere sound of the word should tell you all you need to know). This is far from representative of the WM diaspora in Japan, and although Appleby acknowledged this fact in the presentation itself, the promotional blurb for the presentation certainly doesn't do anything to minimize the "Tsk tsk, Charisma Man= WM English teachers in Japan" association. Now I'm just waiting for someone to comment about how 'Charisma Man' my attitude is in this article. After all, I've made a few lame jokes, have referred to women, beer, and sports and the article is accompanied by a photo of my badass WM visage. Rest assured that such comments will cause me to pull at my jagged spike of blonde hair and bang my ruggedly chiseled jaw on the keyboard.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/has_charisma_man_jumped_the_sh.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/has_charisma_man_jumped_the_sh.html Amusement/Fiction Conferences foreigners in Japan Wed, 19 Oct 2011 09:02:11 +0900 Paul Stapleton's article in the September/October issue of JALT's 'The Language Teacher' magazine I felt like this caricature had been not only underscored, but justified by being presented as virtuous. Let me explain by outlining some of the key points made in Stapleton's article (although it is obviously better if you read the link provided above). Stapleton worked for twenty years in a Japanese university but recently left to take a new role in another country (Hong Kong to be exact). Stapleton's article compares the two systems and finds the Japanese lagging on many counts. Although Stapleton is careful to note that his experience cannot be assumed to be representative of Japanese universities as a whole, the conclusions he draws from this personal experience nonetheless are used to critique Japanese universities en masse. 'An atmosphere of mistrust' For example, Stapleton relates how test grades given by individual teachers at his current (favourable, non-Japanese) institution will be subject to "internal monitoring and external review", and then possibly modified by others to ensure "fair and balanced grading". For me, having my own students'-- my own courses'-- graded assignments reviewed, and possibly changed, by other teachers violates the tenet of academic non-interference and smacks of institutional nannyism. Micro-management of this sort generates an atmosphere of mistrust. What is wrong with the idea that if you hire someone to do a job (such as grading) you assume competency, until some egregious problem raises its head? Stapleton also explains how teachers at his current institution are ranked (!) based on a cumulative "magic score" garnered from student questionnaires about the teacher. Teachers who receive lower 'rankings' are called to task. He goes on to explain how this "can, and does" lead to non-renewal of contracts. First, the reason as to why teachers should be ranked against each is other beyond me. Universities are not Billboard charts. Student ratings and comments should primarily exist as a means of feedback for the teacher, and with an emphasis upon qualitative commentary as opposed to raw numericality. Secondly, although Stapleton is aware of the dubious veracity of using student questionnaires as a measure of pedagogical competency, he does not address the likelihood that pandering to students in order to accumulate popularity points will be at odds with his supposed emphasis upon increasing academic rigor and accountability. Low bar for research Stapleton also criticizes at length the alleged "low bar" that Japanese universities maintain when evaluating personnel (referring to database scores which are carried out at all national Japanese universities, especially since the advent of 'houjinka' system, or semi-privatization). He mentions that dubious essays published in non-refereed department journal will suffice as research publications. But he also seems unaware of, or chooses to ignore, two factors that might considerably alter his perspective on this issue. The first is that national universities rate publications by an established impact factor, so it is not possible for a throwaway piece in the department journal to have the same database value as a full publication in a top-notch publication. The second is that all teachers and researchers on the database can choose a weighting system for their contributions-- that is, researchers can choose to put greater weight on research scores, teachers on teaching roles, or on administrative involvement (which is a large part of a professorial role at national universities). In other words, people with different roles are not constrained by the same rubric, let alone some numerical "bottom line" acting as a cut-off barrier. It may seem fuzzy, but it is more flexible, and thus, I would argue, fairer. Is the hamster-wheel scenario more humane? Frankly speaking, it also seems much more humane to me. While Stapleton's faculty would appear to be running on a hamster wheel trying to maintain the bottom line under threat of losing their livelihoods, the "Japanese" system he criticizes recognizes the value of different roles and how individual contributions may not manifest themselves in fat database scores. While deadwood still occupies some Japanese academic offices to be sure, those (full-time faculty) with dubious scores or contributions will have their situations discussed so that all the affective factors can be made known. While "clear benchmarks" may aid in illuminating expectations, set established minimal "bottom line" scores don't allow for such human variables. To me, Stapleton's approach seems more suited to the sharkpool world of retailing than academia: "Go out and sell a minimum of $50,000 or you'll be out on your ass!"-- Show me the money! I really wonder if this score chasing is really as conducive to raising research standards as Stapleton assumes, since I can easily imagine lower-tier academics focusing more on the tail-chasing act of maintaining numbers than on doing research because they love it or because it is truly beneficial to their teaching area. They produce because they fear the crack of the whip. Is that really a virtuous motivator? Promotion- age, merit, or other? And while Stapleton lauds promotion based upon merit (although he appears to conflate this with high database scores) I think he overstates the centrality of age as the determining factor in promotion in Japan. It is most certainly not the determining factor at my own university (although professors anywhere will generally be older because they have stayed in their positions longer, it's not that they originally attained that position solely or even largely because of age). In fact, the whole notion of 'promotion', in the sense of the business-world model that Stapleton seems to be describing, doesn't really apply to national Japanese universities. Professorial seats, when open, are publicly announced-- and outsiders with excellent academic credentials or current Associate Professors very familiar with the existing system, who have been acting as de facto professors for awhile, tend to gain these seats. Moreover, department heads, deans, and committee leaders rotate regularly, often through internal elections. The need to jockey for position, to scramble, to outpace an opponent, is less pronounced. 'Who benefits?' A bigger question might be this: Who benefits from Stapleton's system? It is telling that not one of the improvements that Stapleton mentions is connected to pedagogy, education, or improving learning skills. Rather, every one of Stapleton's comparisons is about bureaucratic efficiency, garnering academic brownie points, justifying budgets, and about maintaining control and "accountability" or, as I read it, about keeping people on their toes by making them anxious about the possibility of losing their jobs. There is no reason to believe that students receive better teaching methods or superior curricula due to all the factors cited by Stapleton despite his claim that good students are naturally drawn to such universities, so we can't say that it really seems to benefit the students. Surely lower-rung academics wouldn't be benefitting from this dance-or-I'll-shoot-at-your-feet scenario either. It seems that those who might benefit most, as is often the case when "accountability", "bottom lines", "meeting numerical standards", and contract renewal are buzzwords are the people in power which, perhaps unsurprisingly in Stapleton's current institution appears to include Paul Stapleton himself! 'To hell in a happi coat' Unfortunately, the article ends with an old bugaboo or, I might even say, cliche. Stapleton argues that without changes, meaning the adoption of the systematic "rigor" and "efficiency" carried out at the university he now works at, Japanese universities will be marginalized, since they are already "outliers" in terms of accountability; that the negative effects of these qualities rooted in Japanese culture will lead to decline. The old 'unless Japan changes this society is doomed' (Doomed I tells ya!) slogan is something I have heard on every Japan-related topic over the past twenty years. Yes, there are aspects of Japanese society that, if not addressed quickly and appropriately, could lead to future hardship (i.e., the aging problem), aspects of Japanese culture/tradition whose time has come and gone and now are burdensome anachronisms (the koseki and juuminhyou system), and features Japan would do well to borrow from other countries (traffic roundabouts). But the notion that Japan is headed to hell in a happi coat, a downward spiral into oblivion, unless Japan adopts Stapleton's preferred model (the superior one apparently held by "developed" countries) this just sounds like the same old alarmism. If this is the future I don't want to be a part of it If I recall correctly, I met Paul Stapleton once and have also attended one of his presentations. In no way did he come across personally in the same manner as the procedures he advocates do. And although it's true that different systems bring out the best in different people, I wonder if he is aware of how his article might come across, if he is aware of some of the demerits of what he calls 'rigor', 'efficiency', and 'accountability'. For this reader at least-- if this is supposed to represent an improvement in academics, education, and of societal advancement in general then, sorry, but I don't want to be a part of it. ]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/is_this_really_an_improvement.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/10/is_this_really_an_improvement.html Management Testing contracts internationalization publications and research the political side Sat, 08 Oct 2011 20:46:26 +0900 I'm bored with teaching English. I can't understand why anyone would want to take it up as a career" "Why?" "Well how many times and ways can you teach the letter 'A'?". This exchange was recalled to me recently by a teacher who has made a career of teaching English and enjoys his work. His response to the "How many times..." question? "A thousand. And it's never the same". I think he's right. Every time I lead a lesson the dynamics are different. The lesson always shifts and fluctuates, depending on the atmosphere. Rather than playing in a wedding band doing the same cover tunes for the 1000th time I feel more like a jazz musician, playing a recognizable piece but adding spots of improvisation each time, embellishing with dabs of colour applied according to my intuitions, how the audience is reacting, and what the other players are doing. Shifting dynamics- always in a state of flux. It keep me sane. It keeps me energized. Is teacher boredom a methodological matter? I also think there's a problem with the implied methodology of the "How many times can you teach 'A' speaker. He/she seems to think that you 'teach' a letter-- individually. Something like, "This is an 'A'. Can you say 'A'? You write it like this. 'A'." A more knowledgeable teacher would of course fit 'A' into a phonic or phonetic system that has wider, more transferable application. Or they wouldn't explicitly 'teach' it at all but rather allow young learners to absorb it naturally by placing the (supposedly) new item in a meaningful, wider context. And, frankly speaking, most teachers would probably realize that all but the very youngest Japanese children know the alphabet anyway and wouldn't be introducing individual letters as if they were mysteries that have to be transacted to learners like the abbreviations of compounds on a chemical chart. Maybe the teacher who thinks that teaching 'A' is a legitimate, but boring, routine should get out and see what other teachers and practitioners are doing-- how they handle the same type of material-- and still manage to feel inspired. More on that in a moment. While I understand the likelihood of getting bored with the hamster-wheel routine of teaching English at some point I still think that the perpetually bored are more often than not boring themselves. Now, even people with supposedly glamorous, thrilling jobs can get an emotional wheel caught in the mud but classroom inspiration won't come from waiting for your students to change or expecting 'the system' to suddenly do an about-face. Rather, it comes from how you approach your office in life. Attempts to widen your perspective, gain new skills, and apply them, can make a enormous difference. And this is the perfect season to do so. Getting re-energized (and free advertising for the upcoming ETJ Expos) One way to give a positive zap to your teaching doldrums is to attend, or even better actively participate in, a teaching conference. I recommend that readers check out the numerous ETJ Expos held all over Japan, starting very soon in Tokyo. The sheer variety of practical and theoretical insights, teaching tips, and in-depth discussions these provide should have the effect of refilling your pedagogical gas tank. I've been teaching in Japan for twenty years and can be pretty jaded but I invariably come back from these expos (which require only a nominal fee to attend) with something of interest that I can add to my repertoire. For example-- Among the more interesting, and forward-looking, EFL researchers in Japan are Curtis Kelly and Robert Murphy, both of whom have been involved in cutting edge research regarding how the brain processes and maximizes language learning. If you think that language-teacher conferences are either one-off lesson recipes or dense dissertations on linguistic esoterica- think again. Their stuff is both intellectually stimulating and has clear practical applications-- the kind that just might help you maintain your sanity in the classroom. Lord knows how many times something I've gleaned from attending an expo, meeting or conference has made a real difference in mine. "That one person in the audience who has never seen me play" There are two other inspirations that allow me to keep my energy in the classroom. One I'll relate to you from the world of hockey. Some readers may know that I used to be an amateur scout for a pro hockey team. This often involved me interviewing players that we were interested in selecting in the amateur entry draft. I remember asking one particular player, who was well known for giving a huge effort every game, every shift, how he kept up his energy and enthusiasm over the long 72-game season. His answer: "I'm always conscious that each night that there's somebody in the crowd who has never seen me play before and that they'll be making a judgment about how good of a player I am based upon what they see that night. They paid money to see me play and I want to make an impression upon so that they come away thinking 'That number 19 was pretty good. He was worth coming out to see'". I thought this was a great answer. I try to apply the same motivation to my own classes. I get new students every semester and I know they are judging me as a teacher. If I don't feel they are going away from each lesson thinking, "Hey! That was worth my while!" then I'm just not satisfied-- and I have to make adjustments. I don't feel comfortable otherwise. Wisdom from Malcolm Gladwell The other form of self-improvement or inspiration comes from reading on a wider range of topics and then applying what I've read to my classroom situation or teaching technique. Malcolm Gladwell is a perfect, middle-brow, example. Gladwell's books are best-sellers for a good reason. He always manages to extract some surprising or contrarian point from an offbeat theme and applies it to something deeper about the real world, yet always making it both relevant and accesible to the reader. He frequently makes reference to research, skilfully rendering this research understandable to the layman which-- although research in the Humanities can be fraught with infelicities-- serves to stimulate the active reader. In his compendium "What the Dog Saw" (read in those rare moments while my 2-year old daughter was taking naps during a recent trip to Bali) one section in particular struck me as being relevant to English teaching in Japan. Choking vs. Panicking This was a chapter (The Art of Failure, p. 324-344) outlining the difference between choking and panicking using examples from professional tennis, golf, and an airplane crash. Choking, Gladwell argues (with his usual research-based support) is a case in which the agent, under pressure, reverts to a mechanical mode of action or behaviour where he/she becomes overly conscious of every move and thus can't function with the fluidity of someone who normally has intuitions, skills or an ingrained sense about what to do. Panicking, on the other hand, refers to cases where people stop thinking due to what is called perception narrowing under pressure. Experienced people may choke under pressure, the inexperienced are more likely to panic. Most readers will be aware of the tendency for many Japanese learners of English to either choke or panic when having to produce or perform under pressure in English. "I went to Canada but I couldn't say more than a few words. I just forgot what to say," might be a typical refrain-- from somebody who has studied English for eight years and is even proficient on standardized tests. But understanding the difference between the two is crucial. Some of my students are chokers. They have a reasonably good command of the flow of English, the holistic side. It has worn itself into their cerebral fabric. They 'know' the language but, when under pressure, tend to revert to an earlier mechanical stage which causes them to re-think every lexical, grammatical and social nuance of the language, effectively paralyzing them in speech. Choking, Gladwell say, is about thinking too much. Others, with far fewer ingrained English skills simply lose all perception and panic, grasping wildly at any English expression which might race through their minds. Panicking is about thinking too little. Panicking is often a product of too little experience, such that when any plus-alpha factors appear, the fragile control system easily breaks down. Addressing panic involves little more than gaining experience, buckling down, applying diligence. It is what Gladwell calls 'a conventional failure'. But choking is 'a paradoxical failure'. Gladwell uses a research-based example (one from Claude Steele at Stanford Univ. and one from Julian Garcia at Tufts Univ.) utilizing stereotypes and expected performance to illustrate the difference. Negative stereotypes and choking This research indicates that when people believe a negative stereotype about them is about to be confirmed they perform poorly-- unwittingly confirming the expected stereotype. The samples are of black and white students in academics (in Steele's research) and sports (Garcia). Black students, unconsciously clinging to the stereotype that they can't perform as well as whites on academic tests, don't panic-- they tend to choke, that is, they tend to second-guess, to over analyze mechanics, not using the intuitions that they have in the first place. The reverse was noted in the sports study where white athletes performed vertical leaps more poorly under the instruction of black instructors-- apparently because they were somehow conscious of the 'white men can't jump' stereotype, and hence over-analyzed the mechanics when test measured by a black instructor. They choked. (note that the negative stereotype was not something imposed by the instructor but was activated by the students themselves-- interesting). How does this connect to my students? Many Japanese students likely choke when speaking English because of an underlying awareness of the stereotype that 'Japanese people can't speak English'. They have the intuitions and the skills to engage others in the language but under pressure they become too conscious of the stereotype, which speaks to them as they try to perform. They revert to mechanics and lose a sense of flow. They think too much. They choke. The question derived from all this provides the type of stimulation that makes my teaching job interesting: How can we remove or limit the effect of the negative stereotype such that it doesn't adversely affect performance. Any ideas? Oh... and look for more from Malcolm Gladwell on this blog in the near future.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/09/selfimprovement_time_with_unex.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/09/selfimprovement_time_with_unex.html Conferences Mon, 26 Sep 2011 09:38:36 +0900 1. Could GPAs motivate? In most Japanese universities GPAs are a non-factor. As long as you graduate from the program with the university's name on your diploma nobody seems to care too much what your grades were. This seems to be only a minor factor in determining entry for graduate school too. I teach medical students. Of course, since there is a doctor shortage students can find employment pretty much anywhere (yes, the ones who attend run-of-the-mill med schools can-- and do-- often end up working at the most prestigious university-affiliated hospitals). This means that a GPA has little influence-- it's just picking up the class credit that matters. But what if the more prestigious companies, employers, and positions in general were reserved for those with the highest GPAs? What if a GPA became the key factor for graduate study? This might well increase the motivation in undergraduate courses. Rather than aiming at the low-bar 60%, more students will aim for the highest scores possible. Perhaps raising the profile and value of GPAs should be a Monkasho concern. Thoughts? 2. Student writing and the (expletive) enter key Where in the secondary educational system do students 'learn' that after typing an English sentence that the correct thing to do is to hit the enter key? The result is that the attempted paragraph reads more like a poem. What is the source of this behaviour? A colleague has done some research on the experience of Japanese university students writing extended English using English writing software. Most have never used it and have little underatanding of formatting for any English script. They tend to stick with Japanese formats and software or (shudder) even try and compose from cell phones. Addressing the issue of how to write in English on a computer should be a standard part of orientation, at least in an English department. 3. Sentences, letters, and names- student bafflers "What's your first name?" "Watanabe" "No, your FIRST name!". Confused looks. What do you mean? Many students still have trouble with the notion of what a first name is. After all the one said first in Japanese will be the family name (Watanabe in this case), so it's understandable they think of that name as being first. But even if they change their name order for English they often think of "first name" as meaning "primary name" which for them will still be the surname. Similarly overlooked are the murky translations of the English words "word" "letter" and "sentence". With Kanji a "word" generally equals a "letter" so the two are often indistinct in student minds. Therefore, if you ask students, "What's the fifth word/letter in this word/sentence?" they'll often give you the wrong answer. The Japanese items/concepts "ji" "go" and "kotoba" also fail to match the concept of word or letter precisely, exacerbating confusion. Japanese tends to use an all-purpose term, "bunsho" (or some variation of "bun"), to talk about just about any written text. It gets translated as "sentence" in many dictionaries but could just as easily be rendered as "text", "paragraph", "chunk" "essay" in many cases. The concepts are hard to pin down across languages. This is another area that could be touched upon in English orientation classes. After all, before they start practicing the mechanics of English sentences and paragraphs students should have a clear mental representation as to what these actually mean. 4. Underrated in EFL teaching (1)- Strategic competence We've probably all noticed how some students seem to be better English communicators than others despite doing less well on paper (or formal examinations) than their peers. There are some who are simply able to communicate well despite a paucity of grammatical skill or lexical knowledge. They make do with what they have. These students tend to have good social skills and part of having good social skills is the ability to read the 'other', to negotiate and moderate where necessary. To pitch your communication in any way that allows your point to be made. The ones who do this better in Japanese tend to do it better in English too. A big chunk of this is what we call strategic competence-- the ability to manage discourse when you are not in full control. This means the ability to manage breakdowns and repair, to ask for clarity or confirmation, to use circumlocutions or general words, gestures or facial expressions, and so on. We all have students who have a wide range of knowledge about English but little or no skills in the way of strategy. Noting how they manage discourse in their first language, let alone in English, might help them climb a few more rungs on the English competency ladder. This is something that should probably be addressed more in EFL materials and curriculum development. 5. Underrated in EFL teaching (2)- Form vs. forms This important distinction came to the forefront of the ELT world about twenty years ago and has been a key dichotomy since. Form-- the overall flow and pattern of a language or a text, is distinguished from forms--the individual elements that make up the structure of a language or text. Many teachers, especially those new to the field, tend to conflate the two, assuming that form is nothing but a cumulative set of forms. Therefore, the pedagogy usually goes, if you teach all these specific forms, such as the rules that govern grammar and lists of vocabulary, learners will naturally develop mastery over language form in general. Except they don't. Those high school textbooks with 6000 sentences displaying endless samples of forms (next- 20 decontextualized, non-extended sentences employing the causative passive) are like a big language net, from which form falls through the mesh. Focusing only on forms is like trying to get children to understand a geopolitical map of the world starting with a street map of Tokyo. The bigger picture that a focus on form creates determines the individual forms that need to be employed. Focusing only upon forms alone is like teaching only the notes for playing a music composition and ignoring the timbre, texture, dynamics, and phrasing- things that make a piece actually worth listening to. This should be popping up more in teacher training it seems to me. 6. Underrated in EFL teaching (3)- Presence I like dogs. So I enjoy watching Cesar Millan, who you may know as National Geographic's 'Dog Whisperer'. The man's ability to calm and gain the respect of even the most aggressive dogs is stupendous. Obviously, I don't have the space to discuss his many techniques here but it is undeniable that when near dogs the man has presence. Dogs read humans very closely. Friend or foe? Trustworthy or dangerous? Every nuance of human posture is calculated. Is this human in control or is he or she intimated by me? Every telltale facial tic is processed by the dog. What is the intention of this human? Do I resist, fight, or play along? Now I don't want readers complaining to me that my students are not dogs, that I shouldn't compare the two, and that our goal as educators is not to tame or control the students. You know that. I know that. But there is nonetheless something similar to be said for a teacher's classroom presence and how much respect they gain from students based upon this presence. The postures, the facial expressions, the choice and delivery of language, the sense of purpose in managing a class-- all are aspects of overall presence. Students will start from a position of trust with a teacher who has it. A position of trust creates receptability for learning. The student will be open to where the teacher is guiding them. But teachers whose presence seems uncertain, betrayed by movements and measures that indicate that they are not in control of themselves, can lose students Keep in mind that by presence, I definitely don't mean displaying aggression, using intimidation tactics, or being overly authoritative, flamboyant, or arrogant. Dogs can distinguish aggression from control, bluster from purpose. If dogs can do it, so can students. Overly aggressive teachers can appear to be covering up a weakness- their presence is threatening, not reassuring. Trust is not forthcoming. Perhaps this is something that warrants more attention in teacher training. 7. A re-test formula that delivered the goods A re-test for me is never a punishment but rather an opportunity for fixing and revising so that the desired skills or knowledge are finally attained. But instead of having those students do the same, or a similar, test again (after giving general feedback on common weak points, model answers etc.) as a group I decided this year to have the students who hadn't performed to my satisfaction come to my office individually for 30 minutes to one hour each during the off-season. They were told to bring along all their semester tests and assignments. Before the meeting they were told to fix, be ready to explain, and most importantly, understand the parts that they had done poorly on. Not only did this allow students to focus upon brushing up the areas they hadn't done well in (which again, is the whole point of education) but in dealing with them one-on-one I could go over in some detail the parts that they found confusing or troubling. They reacted very positively to this personal touch. It allowed me to underscore why certain learning points and skills were valuable for them and also provided me with a clear look as to what students found difficult-- and why. Recommended. 8. A test idea that delivered the goods I'm always thinking of ways to make my tests meaningful and pedagogically viable. How can I make a test that both serves as a valid indicator of student performance and helps the students master the content or skills aimed at in the course? This one worked well... I defined eight skills/learning areas from the class that we had practiced in some detail-- areas of practice and study that contained a holistic emphasis but included new lexis, structure, content, social skills, rhetorical development, critical and creative thinking... the whole shebang. I asked students to create extended examples of each of these. I gave them the test paper in advance with the eight tasks (I can't really call them questions) written on them. I told them that they would have to do only four of the tasks but that they wouldn't know exactly which four until test day. This meant that they had to prepare studying for all eight-- which forced them to carry out a thorough, fulfilling review of everything we had covered so far. That, of course, was the goal. For test day, I made all sorts of random combinations of the four assignments (#3,5,6 and 8 for one student, #1,2,4, and 7 for another and so on) such that few students had exactly the same set. The only consideration was to make sure that each task was of the same difficulty so that some students wouldn't have an easier time of it than others. This meant that everything of value in the class had been covered in test prep but the test itself was not quite as heavy-- and easier to mark. Recommended. 9. Has corpus-based research jumped the shark? It seems like every EFL researcher and his/her dog is carrying out corpus-based research these days. The majority of presentations I've seen at ELT conferences recently, particularly by Japanese EFL practitioners, are focused upon corpus gathering or interpretation. Yes, I'm guilty-I've done it too. I can understand the appeal-- especially to Japanese researchers whose intuitions about normative English might be flawed (not that NSs are flawless of course). Corpus study can be comfort food giving them a clearer idea as to what forms are normative. And it meets EFL academia's self-imposed research fetish for allegedly objective, empirical evidence (i.e. reducible to charts or numbers). Concordance as Bible. But I worry that by focusing so much on the micro-forms (individual tokens or types) the larger question as to macro-form (the defining shape of the communicative event- who is participating, how does the exchanges begin and end, what the communicative goals are, how social signals and illocutions are being employed to serve the communicative goal etc.) is being ignored. Henry Widdowson famously critiqued the hubris regarding the application of corpus research to pedagogy and materials development largely along these same lines. It's true that many current corpus-based studies are well-defined ("We examined the frequency and type of performative verbs used in air controller dialogues...") but I do worry that this is leading to a bottom-up, the-detail-explains-the-bigger-picture approach that might not be the best way of understanding how people construct communication. 10. Handwriting and scoring OK. I admit it. The quality of student handwriting can influence how I score a paper. Even when the scoring criteria is content and/or form I have noticed that easy-to-look-at or even elegant penmanship positively influences me more than the scrawls and scribbles reminiscent of an eight-year old that a few students always display. It's understandable, but if penmanship is not the criterion it shouldn't affect the score at all. Have you noticed the same thing? Of course, now that I am conscious of it I can deal with it but I have to resist the lure... Comments are welcome but please remember that these thoughts are outtakes and impressions- not finished philosophical products.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/09/odds_n_sods_a_potpourri_of_hod.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/09/odds_n_sods_a_potpourri_of_hod.html Grammar and vocabulary Testing methodology theory Thu, 01 Sep 2011 10:38:14 +0900 This article was written and posted with kind permission from Moe’s parents.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/08/students_you_never_forget_in_m.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/08/students_you_never_forget_in_m.html the students Tue, 16 Aug 2011 13:55:21 +0900 What do the numbers mean? Two approaches One way of looking at the meaning of 60% as a pass is as follows: If I, the teacher, feel that the student has attained the required knowledge and skills or has completed the syllabus in a manner that indicates he or she deserves a credit and should advance to the next level, that student should get 60% or higher. If not, I as a teacher, will give them a grade under 60%. In other words, I assign the grade according to whether I think they should gain a course credit and advance or not. The resultant pass or fail will never come as a surprise to me the teacher. In short the teacher, not a number, decides. The number is simply the representation of the teacher’s decision. Another way of looking at 60% is in a thoroughly numerical (which should never be confused as 'objective') way. If the student has attained a 60% average on all assessments and tests, then that student, by virtue of having achieved that number, should logically pass with a cumulative 60% or better final grade. This is the opposite of the manner described earlier. In such cases, the teacher simply calculates all the relevant scores and the math does the rest. The teacher may be surprised by the results- “I didn’t think student X would be good enough to pass but his total is actually 63% so I’m obliged to pass him”. Matching grading with teaching methods Both methods can make sense depending upon the content of your teaching, the teaching methodology employed in your classroom, and the types of assessment employed. If your course consists largely of transacting discrete points and your assessment requires that students know these as discrete facts then it easy to establish a baseline of 100% and discover whether your students have retained 60% of wht they should know (note- this requires that your assessment be comprehensive and not randomized regarding all these discrete points). Most standardized testing forms, such as TOEIC and TOEFL, take a similar approach although these are obviously not (in most cases at least) course exit (read: achievement) tests, but proficiency tests. The Center Shiken, more of a placement test than anything, is another such example where this works. However, most ESL/EFL classroom pedagogy isn’t, or *shouldn’t be*, of this type. Something as holistic, organic and dynamic as language skills in a full classroom course can rarely be reduced to a set of discrete items and attempts to do so on a test will almost certainly put your assessment validity in question. If you are trying to develop holistic student skills and competencies you can’t break this down into meaningful numerical values very easily (see more on ‘analytic scoring’ in the footnotes). When you assign a number value to some classroom achievement assessment it will likely be holistic and somewhat subjective. It should never be a surprise to you. You’ll never say: “Wow! She got a 20 out of 30 on the role-play! Obviously I think she’s good enough to pass!” You gave the number *after* you decided that her performance merited a passing grade! My Josef K. experience- the Tribunal So what happened in my case with the students going to the student affairs ombudsman committee? I was thereafter asked to meet with three senior professors who make up the committee, in a regular classroom. It had the air of a war crimes tribunal upon first glance- the three professors sitting up at the front on the raised platform and me before them, like a defendant, down at a student’s desk. Why it couldn’t have taken place at a regular seminar table in an office or small classroom I don’t know. However, the attitudes of the three professors were not tribunal-like. I knew two of the professors quite well and the mood was reasonably friendly and almost apologetic. The problem was this- the students had received scores of over 60% on my two main class assessments but were still required to do a re-test (my decision). Then, although they scored more than 60% (in the 70’s actually) on the re-test I deemed them unfit for passing and gave them a failing grade (there were other factors involved but for the sake of student privacy I will not divulge those here). So, now you might be saying to yourself that the students’ confusion seems perfectly plausible. After all, if they got over 60% on three decisive evaluations and the course passing grade is 60% then what’s the problem? One of the senior professors (the one I was not very familiar with) echoed this proposition. The argument from the defendant First let’s look at my ‘paper’ test. It’s an open book and open note/open handout test (see the appendix below for a justification of this practice). Not only that, but students can look at previous (last year’s) tests in advance (not during the test though) and know that this year’s will be at least somewhat similar. I also give a full preparation class one week in advance where I tell students exactly where the test focus will be (including specific textbook page references). I make sure that everything that appears on the test was explicitly covered and even emphasized in the classes. As a result I expect 90% correct. That doesn’t seem unreasonable. Given all these advantages getting a mere 65% is just sloppy. Obviously test preparation, validity and difficulty will affect the grade. A spot test on esoteric items demanding only memorization skills might make for a more meaningful ‘60% as pass’ criterion but pedagogically speaking, that doesn’t sound like a good achievement test (more like a proficiency or placement test). Then there’s the role-play assessment. Again, students have two classes to prepare theirs, including time for checking with partners, peers and myself, plus revisions. And with three heads working together I expect that some thought should to go into it—and some practice too. On top of that, we all know that a poor student can be pulled up by being in a group with strong students. So if a student can’t pull off an 80% here, he or she needs to do some extra work. And then there’s the re-test. Given everything I’ve written above about the other assessments plus the fact that I always have a test-follow up review lesson with feedback where students who did poorly can check their answers with those who did well--- well there is no reason I should expect anything under 90% on the re-test (for justification of re-testing also my footnotes below). So if students score 70% on the paper test and 70% on the role-play, they haven’t shown me enough to gain a credit yet. And if they still get only 70% on the re-test I start to throw my hands up in the air (especially when I am confident that the student’s problem is not one of basic English skill or comprehension- which among national university medical students it never is). The verdict So, what was the committee’s response? Two of the senior professors understood my logic regarding numbers and leaned towards the “Give ‘em the see-you-next-year boot” option, giving me the big benefit of any doubt. The other professor though seemed to struggle with the numbers. Wasn’t my 60% an objective measurement? (No. It was my subjective judgment based on my qualifications and experience as a teacher). I mentioned that perhaps I should make my paper test so difficult that 60% would be an achievement but that wouldn’t be sound pedagogically. I mentioned that I could simply adjust my numbers accordingly and give scores like 40% and 50% for role plays that I was not satisfied with, but numerically that just seems harsh. Either way, I reiterated that a final 60%+ grade from the teacher was never meant to be a composite of in-class scoring but a reflection of the fact that in my estimation the student had passed the course, completing the requirements to my satisfaction. Citing that the students in question may have been confused about this criteria (as he was) he recommended that I give them a re-re-test. So, to make everyone happy, I did--- and eventually passed them, but not until I was fully satisfied that they had achieved what was necessary to gain the credit. Appendix 1: The brilliant and sudden transformation of students in peril It is interesting to see how students react when told they will fail. Remember, these are the same students who, during the regular classes, thought nothing of missing the maximum number of classes, spoke mostly in Japanese during pair or group work or did their best to ignore other members, carried out the language activities with all the reluctance of Lindsay Lohan being sent off to Sunday School, and spent most of their in-class energy concentrating on pulling stray bits of rubber off of those shower sandals they always seem to wear. But when a repeat year looms suddenly postures straighten, formal letters or speeches of extreme regret are proffered and the suits- well the suits remind me of what bad guys wear in court to make an impression on the jury (Hey! If I can afford a Brooks Bros. get up I must be OK!). Entire sports clubs may visit your office to vouch for their man (very rarely a woman). Those deep bows that we usually associate with Japanese securities company presidents whose secretaries 'unknowingly' sold huge amounts of stock just before the market plunged are performed. Sometimes even tears make a guest appearance. But giving them a 'get out of repeat year free' card at this point makes gaining a credit appear to be a matter of showing good 'hansei' (self-reflection) form and has little or nothing to do with the larger educational picture. Appendix 2: Analytical versus holistic scoring Let me add a bit here about analytical vs. holistic scoring. Holistic scoring is when you look at the students' entire performance first and immediately, some might say instinctively, give it a grade. You can later break down your score and justify it skill by skill, function by function but basically you're giving the whole picture scenario. If possible it is good to have two raters in such cases to avoid excessive subjectivity. With analytic grading you make a criteria beforehand, a rubric so to speak, and then assign scores for each item in the rubric. The final score is a composite of each item's score. The problem here is creating a valid rubric- should they all have the same weight/value? Has something been forgotten? Are there issues of competency that fall through the mesh of most detailed rubrics? And there's still the problem of subjectivity- since each rubric item grade is based on the whim of the teacher or his/her understanding of what that item means and how success in that particular item might be manifested in the test. As you can probably guess by now- I'm a holistic grader. Appendix 3: How and why re-testing can work I have no problem with re-tests. But I never give them as punishment. I always give them to help the student master whatever it is they are having trouble with. The goal is for the students to learn what they need before going on to the next level. It serves a remedial function and works on the same playground principle that if your kid falls off the monkey bars the best thing you can do is help him/her get right back up there again until they gain confidence and competence. By the way, my re-tests include 90% of the same questions or tasks as the main test. Why? Because that initial test contained exactly what I wanted them to know or be able to do. Making up a whole new set of questions or tasks would imply that the class in fact focused upon other skills/knowledge than was covered in the first test- making it less valid. Making up entirely new items may be OK with Math tests and English placement tests but not with a course exiting achievement test. Appendix 4- How and why open book, open note testing works Almost all my testing is open-book, open-note testing. The rationale for this is my wanting to avoid emphasizing memory as the sole or major learning skill and thereby becoming the operative determiner of a student's grade. Open-book tests allow for a consolidation and review of what we have been studying or practicing thus far. Organizational skills, good note-taking, and the ability to join the strands of knowledge into a larger whole are rewarded. These are academic skills and provide a good framework for developing (or at least enhancing) learner autonomy. Two items I don't allow at the test site are old tests (from their seniors) where answers may be copied wholly with all the mental effort of single-celled organisms, and dictionaries, which can lead students astray as well as leading to simply copying down definitions. In short, I want my tests to be a part of the learning process, to maximize student understanding. Comments? Here are some things I'm interested in hearing about-- What are the re-test and final failure grades at your institution? How do your students respond to re-tests or failing? On what basis do you decide the passes or fails? Do you do re-tests and open-book testing? Why? Why not?]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/08/the_problem_with_numbers_gradi.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/08/the_problem_with_numbers_gradi.html Grading Thu, 04 Aug 2011 09:06:58 +0900 Honing sensibilities This would be an attractive approach for the English teaching profession except that it's difficult to think in terms of celebrity EFL teachers (Jack Richards or David Nunan anyone?). Inexperienced teachers would do well to listen to outside voices but as they accumulate experience I think a similar 'makasete' (leave it to me) method is the best way to go. If you have a long track record of experience and success in the field in particular one should expect to be cut some slack-- but sensibilities have to be honed before others' trust in them can be earned. Having your teaching sensibilities respected can work in two directions. The first is based upon non-interference from administrators and bureaucrats- leaving the teaching to teachers. The other is not negotiating syllabi with students. Both place a heavy responsibility on the part of the teacher. I have a simple rule. The larger the class and the younger the students, the less I negotiate the content. In other words, a single PhD candidate who wants me to act as an English advisor, yes we have much to discuss. But a class of 40 university freshmen in a Communication English course? No dice. Do students know what's best for them? It's not that I haven't tried it. But experience has taught me that students in such courses rarely know what they want- short of very general targets such as, "to learn how to have conversations in English" or "to make my English more natural". And there's rarely anything approaching a consensus, so carrying out their wishes would fragment the syllabus to the point where it would be hard to really call it a 'syllabus' at all. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that many students actually find it a little odd that the teacher would be asking them what they want to learn- and I suggest that they might actually lose confidence in a teacher who appeared to not have prepared some set goals and directions based on the teacher's supposed expertise and authority. [ Sidebar- students often fail to recognize what they've been taught too, even if they seem to have acquired and are applying the skill or target that the teacher intended. Every year I have my first year medical students focus upon taking a patient history but in later years, when asked by visiting foreign lecturers whether or not they've ever been taught to take patient history, even my most astute students for some reason tend to say 'No'.] Students don't always know what's good for them. If I was going to take up, say, Yoga, I sure wouldn't know what's best for me. And this is precisely what teachers are expected to know- that's why we are... prepare for a shock here...the teachers! For example, my medical students often express a wish "to learn medical English terminology" in my seminar classes. But of course seminar sessions are not the place for specialized lexis and/or translation exercises- they are supposed be for interaction, discussion, and cognitive expansion. Terminology they can get from a dictionary or textbook. Thus, I don't indulge them and I dare say they are better off for it. In this case, not acceding to their wishes actually better serves to meet their needs. Tweaking our teaching sensibilities None of this means that teachers should become arrogant, self-satisfied, and oblivious to student responses. Even with all his talent, Lionel Messi doesn't simply grab the ball and shoot it. He is constantly scanning his teammates and opponents to consider his options, using his knowledge of what has or hasn't worked before, and applying these to make the best possible play. Likewise, a good teacher is always scanning the class for hints and feedback and then tweaking the lessons accordingly. How do we get reliable feedback from the students? Most class surveys are too standardized and banal to be of much use in this regard. I suggest instead that you take note of what I call 'barometer students'. What is a barometer student? Well, as you know there are some students who have such intrinsically low motivation levels that you could have Johhny Depp host the lesson with the Dallas Mavericks and AKB48 invited to do backflips off of beluga whales and these students would still be yawning and gazing into their keitai screens. On the other hand, you have some students who are so genki that you could do a semester on 'The Grain Elevators of Saskatchewan; A Retrospective' and they'd still be appreciative. Your barometer students are those who fall slightly towards the genki side of things. If you have a section or lesson where the facial expressions of your barometer students approximate the existential vacuum of Gauguin's "Who are we? Where have we come from? Where are we going?" canvas, then it's likely time to nuke the activity or lesson rather than being bull-headed and bringing the zombie task back next year simply because 'it is part of the curriculum'. In my experience there are three common causes for losing your barometer students: 1) They sense that they are just doing this as busy work 2) They have no idea what the teaching points or targeted skill is 3) The lesson seems in no way to fit into a bigger curriculum picture- "Where are we going..." Teachers can avoid this barometer student ennui by explicitly connecting lessons, continually reinforcing and recycling both skills and languge targets, repeatedly making reference to the course's past while letting students know clearly how todays fits into next week's lesson and the lesson after that. One way or another, you have to constantly be making adjustments. If Lionel Messi ever becomes too self-satisfied, always making the same move- he is finished. We can apply this to musicians too. A band who follow exactly what their fans want them to do can end up making the same album over and over and actually lose their following because they haven't progressed. Testing as self-diagnosis Another way of checking as to whether your students are responding accurately or not is through your evaluations and tests. Tests shouldn't just have a diagnostic function for the students but for the teachers as well! After all, if most of your students are failing your tests it is likely that one of two things is happening: 1) Your evaluation is invalid- you're not actually testing what you think you are testing 2) Your students haven't learned what you want them to because there is some flaw in your teaching method In analyzing your test results you are gaining valuable feedback about your teaching performance. Please understand that none of this is about denying your students choices in the classroom, about claiming uniformity to be virtuous, or being teacher-centered in your methodology. Giving students task options helps them to develop autonomy and to expand themselves as learners. But this should be done within a larger framework that has been prepared by the teacher, who should know the road behind and sees the signposts which lead ahead. In other words, if you are going to bypass the negotiated syllabus or needs analysis routes you're going to have to be highly attuned to these less visceral types of feedback. In my experience; ineffective veteran teachers often think that their sensibilities should be respected based on seniority alone but may in fact be doing little to further hone those sensibilities. If you want both students and administrators to respect your teaching sensibilities, it's your responsibility.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/07/o_makase_teaching_the_leave_it.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/07/o_makase_teaching_the_leave_it.html Sun, 17 Jul 2011 12:39:45 +0900 Yes, it's true that neither classrooms nor genders are monolithic entities... And yes, there are males who display some traits that we might normally apply to females- and vice versa. Yes, individual, idiosyncratic, psychological make up is always a significant factor-- but none of these change the fact that the general flow, rhythm, and atmosphere of all-female classes are not the same as with the men. So yes, some generalizations will ensue. And keep in mind that these comments are about Japanese students in an EFL classroom- they are not meant to represent all women. The interpretation as to which elements are gender-based and which are cultural or even domain-centered (the EFL classroom) is variable. So, YMMV. All of this becomes especially pronounced when the teacher of the F-dominated class is a male, which is obviously the perspective I am taking today. After all, since I have never, to the best of my knowledge, been a female I cannot say anything meaningful about F teacher-F student dynamics. So, how does the presence of overwhelming femaleness (dare I say feminimity?) affect classroom management? What adjustments or considerations should the M-teacher take into account? Here are 8 hints I can offer based on twenty years of dealing with numerous F-dominant classes in Japan, man of the teaching world that I am: 1. remembering JF names All students want you to remember their names. It's validating-- they've made an impression upon your consciousness. But you know the situation-- you're walking down the hall and you see three of your students. You greet two by name but the third one eludes you. Most M students don't have a lot of trouble with this but the Fs take it very seriously. There is an almost automaic "He doesn't remember my name because he hates me and thinks I'm ugly and stupid and he remembers hers because he thinks she is pretty" quality in response to sensei not remembering JF names. The (partial) solution? Make an extended effort to remember the names of quiet, simple, plain, unobtrusive Fs. They will very much appreciate this. The ones with big personalities or hairdos know you will remember their names soon anyway. And no one can claim that you are remembering names based on some vavoom or pizzaz factor. 2. notes/comprehensive detail JFs are much neater and more organized than JMs in terms of sharp, crisp, clean note-taking and highlighting. This probably extends worldwide. JFs are usually much more comprehensive and careful about detail as well but this fastidiousness can actually hurt them. How? Take the erasing fetish for example. JFs will often wipe out an entire sentence in order to 'fix' what, to them, is a poorly drawn dot on an i. Brainstorming sessions where "write six words you associate with summer" is written on the board will begin with her writing her name, student number, and "write six words you associate with summer" on a sheet of very new paper that she has carefully removed from her binder from deep within her bag, long after the scheduled brainstorming task time has passed. Making a 'no erasers' rule and keeping strict time on such tasks may eliminate this unproductive behaviour. 3. cliques and partnering; chattering I'll agree with a popular stereotype here. F students form cliques- and stand by them- more quickly and deeply than males and, related to this, will use more class time to chatter. Speech-based tasks make this clear. Many students, M and F, will quickly finish the task (often in a slipshod way). Ms will usually kick back or veg out at this point whereas Fs will almost inevitably extend the speaking task-- into personal chatter in Japanese. Sometimes when this happens the teacher assumes that the students are still dilligently on task. Solutions? Partner or group students outside cliques or circles of friends (in mixed classes M-F pairs are great for getting both members to concentrate on the task). When extended chatter occurs sit down next to the pair as if to be 'listening in' on the task. They'll soon stop. Also- let students know that a task should be continued until a certain time and a have a follow up task or extension at hand to keep the chat devil away from those idle lips. 4. scolding/giving back bad results or re-tests "Hell hath no fury...". Shakespeare was an EFL teacher in Japan it seems. Obviously humiliating students is never kosher but sometimes a firm hand is required-- hopefully to benefit the students as opposed to merely providing an outlet for the teacher's frustration. IMO, generally, males take scoldings much better than females. Perhaps they view it as a positive challenge. Many Ms seem to have been exposed to verbal tongue-lashings in clubs previously and thus take it in stride. This is rarely so with Fs who will remember your vitriol for a long time, take it very personally-- possibly as an attack on her whole person-- and even drag her friends into an anti-teacher hatefest. Taking extreme care in scolding or critcism extends to giving back poor results or calling for re-tests. Some Ms seem to take doing poorly in English almost as a badge of male honour. The Fs do not. Feedback regarding poor work should be discrete and encouraging. That is a good rule for all negative feedback but doubly so for Fs. 5. dealing with Leggy Keiko/commenting on appearances I'm sure that some male reader have scanned precisely to this spot. Fair enough. M teachers will know the experience of going into the JF classroom and being confronted by a pair of ostentatiously displayed legs or three, within obvious eyeshot (of course being the consummate professional I've only heard about this...). You will tell yourself, "Don't look at the legs! don't look at the legs" which is like telling yourself not to think of little pink elephants- now you are more conscious of little pink elephants than ever. Whatever your sex or sexual orientation, when there's an attractive person in the room you can't easily ignore her/him any more than you can put that sinister-looking, strung-out guy who's sitting behind you on the bus out of mind. You may even start to move like you've got a herniated disc in your neck in order to avoid gaping. No less an authority than the wife has told me that the Fs always know it when a male takes a sidelong glance. Now, the lady showing lotsa leg may not care too much, she may be used to-- and may to some extent relish-- men checking her out. But every other student in the class will notice your roving eye and the resulting interpretation will less likely be "Sensei is a guy being a guy" than "Sensei is a randy pervert". Harsh, but true. Keep in mind that Leggy Keiko is not dressing up for your entertainment. Leggy Keiko thinks of you as a teacher first and has certain expectations about how a teacher should act. Ogling her probably diminishes your status in her legs... umm... mind. It should go without saying that commenting on JF appearances can be a minefield. Make that a minefiled covered in eggshells. Everyone likes to hear compliments about how they look or have their new hairstyle/costly accessory/rad fahion statement noticed but let's face it-- there's a fine line between being pleasantly complimentary and coming across as a drooling lech who's paying just a little too much attention-- and we all know Ms who are completely oblivious to this line. I've experienced awkward follow ups in the past by telling a F she had got a nice tan over the summer (she was on the rowing team but in fact wanted to be pasty white like many JFs so she didn't take it well), another that she looked like a young Kate Bush (She was an uncannily dead ringer!), and telling yet another that she could pass for a Thai or Filipina. The latter is a compliment from me but for what seem like socio-ethnic reasons I don't want to get into here, it didn't go down well. I now err on the side of saying too little unless I'm quite familiar with the student. I understand that it may come off that sensei's just paying a little too much attention to you- and is thus a bit creepy. 6. light talk and bad jokes from M teachers/teacher centredness I've noticed that some M teachers seem to treat F students as if they are deserving of lighter, more frivolous talk or class content (whether in the hallway, ESS club, or classroom) than M students- a near dumbing down of interactions or topics, as if real women want to discuss nothing more than buying shoes and movie stars. Yes, I have noticed this in my own (past) behaviour too. Big mistake--Fs will really chew on a challenging, invigorating topic-- and of course being treated as intellectually and academically capable. The same goes for treating Fs as a ready-made audience for bad jokes. I know that I'm riffing upon a stereotype here, but many Ms like to assume positions of authority with Fs. One way of buttressing the already-authoritative teacher's role is to reinforce yourself as the center of attention and assuage the ego by conflating this with admiration. The M teacher thinks the ladies will automatically laugh at his witty bon mots and in fact JF will often do so-- dutifully taking on the good audience role. It doesn't mean that your jokes really are funny, or even welcome, though. And we all know how teacher-centredness ranks on the scale of methodological no-nos. 7. being cavalier; pachi pachi eyes In F only or F dominated classes the ladies will often be more cavalier in terms of behaviour, speech, and posture. This is not because of the presence of the M teacher but in spite of him-- they've forgotten that there are males present and therefore drop many so-called ladylike mannerisms. Consider it a privilege to see the inner workings of the JF natives on display. Don't spoil it by getting too close. Having said that, there are still those who will treat the M teacher with exceptional male-only attention. This includes making coquettish poses and pachi-pachi eyes, especially if you look like you might be about to scold them. Call it culture if you want, but some JF students deal with most males this way- it's what they consider appropriate role-playing. No, it's not a singles-bar type of advance, Romeo. This latter type of behaviour can negatively impact the teacher's small group or pair monitoring. On numerous occasions, I've sat near a pair or group of JF students to check how they're handling the task when they suddenly all turn to me as if, being both a teacher and a M, I must be there to lead, to assume authority, to tell them something. At this point I've become a 'jama' a bother or annoyance and they become passive. Eavesdropping nearby while pretending to do something else may be more effective. 8. room temperatures; 'stomach aches' When a F student complains of a stomach ache in class let her leave to deal with it without prying. I shouldn't have to explain why but some Ms are (perhaps understandably) oblivious to feminine...discomfort. JFs also seem to be more sensitive to classroom temperatures with what seems like a 0.1 degree range of comfort. Many are either fanning themselves like British explorers in the Sudan or shivering under Grandma's handmade quilts when even a moderate amount of air-con is applied. Encourage the Scott-of-the-Antarctic mimics to move to a desk that isn't directly beneath the air-con flow. Is this the final word on JF students? Obviously not. If I've missed something important or you disagree with some item feel free to have your say. ]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/07/how_to_talk_to_japanese_women.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/07/how_to_talk_to_japanese_women.html Culture ELT university society the students Fri, 01 Jul 2011 08:27:05 +0900 Poster sessions work! Here it is in bold- having small groups of students prepare and conduct poster sessions in English is a good thing. A number of vital pedagogical points emerge naturally from holding poster sessions. The students are being productive and creative. They take responsibility for their work. It is both visual and verbal- various skills are thereby engaged. It involves both cognitive activity (such as background research of the topic) and a prestige form of language- which leads to awareness and reinforcement of good language form(s). It contains rehearsed and practiced as well as dynamic, spontaneous elements. Oh yeah, and it’s fun. The framework- nuts 'n bolts Here’s how I administer these sessions: 1) Students have 4 (possibly 5) weeks’ prep from the initial explanation of the sessions to the final ‘performance’. Give them anymore time than that and they’ll inevitably dawdle until the week before, resulting in a cut ‘n paste mad dash at the finish. 2) The first week involves topic choice (more on the impotrtance of this later). The next two weeks will involve peer and teacher checks, and peer and teacher suggestions (for both content and layout). Surface error checks and formatting suggestions will come into play here too. 3) The week before the actual poster session should include a practice session and physical preparation of the posters. 4) At the actual poster session students should be divided into 2 sets-- to act as audience for one session, and as poster hosters for the other (thus, anywhere from 6 to 14 students makes an ideal number). In a 90 minute class that means about 30-40 minutes of postering for each set. You could invite other teachers or students to view these sessions too. 5) The week after the session should involve follow-up, self-reflection, and feedback about poster session strengths and weaknesses. I do it one on one for 7-10 minutes with each student. 6) The actual poster paper should be that wall-sticky ready-made ‘writing sheet’ stuff. The actual slides which form the poster content are best made as oversized (1 slide per page) Powerpoint slides. Magic markers, scissors and scotch tape should make guest appearances too. Warning! Do not attempt this unless... Now, here are the ‘chui’ (be careful!) bits. And this is the part you should definitely read closely if you’re interested in doing a poster session: A clear, narrow topic that you want to talk about The whole purpose of doing a poster session should be because you really want to inform others on a certain topic and you really want them to be interested or stimulated by it. Without the feeling of personal interest, and a desire to communicate that interest, the session will fall short. This means that careful choice of topic is crucial. Students must choose a topic that is a) of interest to them and expect it to be to others b) narrow and focused enough to be covered in 6 to 12 poster ‘slides’. A poor choice of topic hinders the later development of a meanigful, informative poster. A lot of students initially choose a topic that is much, much, much (and did I say 'much'?) too wide (e.g., ‘Canada’ 'The Human Body'). Helping students get a handle on exactly what the topic is will be the focus of your first class. Clear and narrow are the keywords here: “A Modern Gomorrah- The Sleaze Bars of Belleville, Ontario”, “An Analysis of the Appalling Performance of the Vancouver Canucks in Game Seven”, “How To Riot Like a British Columbian” are the type of things you want. Topics that are too wide also tend to be shallow (duh!) and predictable. They tend to jump around a number of sub-topics in one ten-slide poster leaving the reader/viewer with no lasting impression. Research is crucial- so is flow Students should do at least some backround research and, in doing so, think carefully in advance about poster flow. Is the poster moving in any direction? This will affect the choice of what information to include- to determine relevance and order. The students should ask themselves-, what direction is it flowing towards? And how can I accentuate this flow to make it more gripping for the viewer? A lack of clarity regarding direction and flow leads to herky-jerky posters which tends to create bouts of ‘What’s-yer-point anyway?’ head-scratching on the part of viewers. Too many students tend to think of research as simply listing a bunch of Wikipedia-type facts. (“Lady Gaga’s early life: Aug. 4th, 1984- Went bowling. Sept. 10th 1984- Borrowed a neighbour's hammer. Aug. 12th 1985- Wore fishnet tights---OK, I admit that last one could be interesting). Students must be encouraged to interpret and personalize the data so that it might become meaningful for the viewer. I do admit having to be harsh, but honest, with some students in this regard: “Ok, Keiko, that’s very nice but why would I be interested in knowing your cat's ten favourite toys?” (keep in mind that I teach university students). If you too are teaching at a university you will probably want the students to focus upon a certain amount of academic and/or specialized material. For those students who plan to work in academic fields later the whole English poster session process is a very practical learning tool. But the teacher should make sure that such students avoid treating viewers as if they are either Oxford Professor Emeriti in the field or, conversely, as if the viewer is good old Cletus from the trailer park. Students should also be clear about what they want to tell the viewer directly in the poster text versus that which they want to or have to explain- which will involve both content and English research. They should most certainly prepare the English for those parts they will have to expand on verbally- and yes, a lack of any prepared student distinction between the elements of poster text and verbal expression is a very common weak point. Connecting with the viewer- the visuals A poster is primarily a visual medium. Avoiding strict linearity and adding decoration that accentuates content, drawing the viewers’ eyes to all the ‘correct’ places, is essential. The slides don’t all have to be Powerpoint square in shape- students can cut and outline them to suit the theme and format they desire. They should use a variety of fonts, including a number of different sizes and colours, and add graphics of some sort to most, if not all, slides. Magic markers can decorate the actual poster sheets to indicate direction or to draw attention to certain spots. Writing “Ask me why!” in a caption near a key point (redolent of the Krispy Kreme employees’ badges: “Ask me about our new Maple Frosties!”) is useful. Stark and bold splashes of: “Did you know this?” or “Unbelievable!” can accentuate a poster's key points (just like the subtitles on a Japanese TV game show). (Cultural generalization warning) Frankly speaking, most Japanese students are excellent at the decorative aspect of posters- with a wonderful sense of balance and scale- but some care must be taken not to overdo these whistles and bells. Making posters interactive Good posters should be interactive. Not everything you want to express-- not even half-- should be written on the poster. The text on the poster should hint at the more expository, deeper points- which the poster host can explain in more detail to viewers at the poster session. Therefore, students have to maintain a delicate balance between being too text-heavy (too intricate, hard to read, often boring, making viewers passive) and too text-light (shallow, cosmetic). To make posters interactive having some sort of Q&A element will involve viewers more fully. Hiding information behind attached cardboard doors for this purpose (the peek-a-boo effect) also works well here. Other tactile features (scratch ‘n sniff?) draw audiences in well too. Finally, students should know that being a good poster hoster means engaging your viewers actively- using ones social skills. Looking down at your feet or shuffling to the side when visitors come is no more endearing than that customer service guy at Yamada Denki who always seems to find paper work to ‘look at’ when Mr. Gaijin customer looks like he wants some help. While the students are doing their sessions, I observe and make notes on their hosting performances as well as the actual posters. I will also go up to each host and ask them questions or make the type of comments that a regular viewer would likely do. This all becomes part of the next class’ feedback session. Trust me- properly handled, poster sessions really work.]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/06/a_practical_guide_to_posterhos.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/06/a_practical_guide_to_posterhos.html Activities Courses methodology the students Fri, 17 Jun 2011 12:25:31 +0900 Is casual chat in the classroom really meaningful? 1. The conversation or rather discourse, must have a purpose that is meaningful to students- it should encompass something that they really need or want to convey. A lot of casual chat fails in this regard- good friends can riff with each other on nothing in particular over coffee but those dynamics don’t translate well to classroom settings with people who you wouldn’t normally be shooting the breeze with. This is why students who seem to improve little in classes in Japan take a huge leap in competence after they go abroad for awhile. Abroad, simply having oral discourse helps them improve because they need it for everyday life, for survival, to make the event meaningful. These parameters don’t exist in the standard Japanese classroom and cannot be easily replicated. What to do then? Well, let’s look at point #2 Adding a diagnostic function 2. The ‘conversation’ should have some diagnostic function attached. If the speakers aren’t conscious of what is working and what’s not working and make no room to note, improve upon, or study those shortcomings then they’ll just repeat the same mistakes over and over and, more likely a) use Japanese or b) not say anything. Since the latter options are not legitimate choices while abroad, such a student has a higher degree of consciousness regarding what’s working (which leads to the reinforcement of successful ventures) and what needs to be fixed. This element needs to be added to the classroom situation. To inculcate this is my own classroom I give students a few minutes post-conversation to make a note on anything that they couldn’t express well- vocabulary, grammar patterns, strategies, useful hints they picked up from their speaking partners, and tell students to check these as self-study. These are to be kept as a list and submitted later in the year and often form a discussion element in final oral interviews. One positive is that when students choose to make their own notes on their own items of significance they are ‘owning’ the language and thus taking responsibility for it. This is crucial as point #3 is… Language ownership and subsequent responsibility 3. Giving students ownership over the language they use. I don't think I have to tell anyone reading this website that repeating written sentences out loud or even 'saying' the individual words that make up an information gap exercise constitutes anything that could remotely be considered conversation or oral discourse. When the student doesn't have to engage any cognitive skills to produce English we can't expect much to occur in terms of deep internalization. They also need an emotional or propositional investment in the language they are producing. Engaged cognition makes for deeper embedding. And cognition is enaged more when #4 occurs-- which is... Choosing stimulating topics 4. Topics need to be stimulating and meaningful. I admit, this a pretty banal bit of advice, right? You don't need a PhD from the Sorbonne to come to this intellectual epiphany. Yet all too many conversation activities involve students asking questions or otherwise discussing something they really have no interest in. This extends to those, "What kind of movies/music do you like?" motifs. Frankly speaking, very few people care what kind of movies/music others in their class like. Movies and music are fun. So is food. Shopping is for many. But talking about these things isn't necessarily so. The conversation here is artificial-- the topic is given not so that students will be emotionally or intellectually engaged but more to fulfill a 'talking quota' or perhaps to draw out (awkwardly, in most cases) some discrete teaching point. The only person I might normally ask these questions too would be someone I'm planning to go to the movies with, when setting the proper musical mood for a party or, hey, if prepping for a hot date. Without the environment that gives meaning to these topics they usually seem static and forced. What I'm driving towards here is point #5 which deals with the question... 5. Which forms of oral discourse have the greatest value in most classrooms? And the answer is: Guided and/or prepared discussions. Here's where it all comes together. First of all, although anything prepared in advance cannot by definition be spontaneous, prepared discussion treats the classroom and its members as, well, as classrooms with students, and not as makeshift bars or coffeeshops. Allowing for preparation also lets students gather the vocabulary, strategic and grammatical items they need in order to participate. This raises consciousness of form and usually makes for a better product. When students know they have to produce purposeful language in advance they will aim for a prestige form- much in the same way that any sensible NJ would carefully compose an double check say, a wedding speech before stepping up to the podium at a Japanese wedding. This doesn't mean that everything need be written down- scripted like a professional wrestling match. In fact, I would discourage this in favour of general notes. Max. Students feel ownership and thus, responsibility for this language. Advance preparation allows (demands?) that content be researched, which should raise the interest/involvement level for all. Giving students guidelines (e.g., to provide background info, explain keywords, include three new or interesting comments of substance, prepare commentary or questions) means students will not be intimidiated as they are at free-for-all open-ended chinwags and yet not feel so dominated restricted by teacher-centered activities as to lead to the passivity endemic to most teacher-dominated assignments. One of the most succesful examples I've used with my own students (university medical students, small groups) is this: Explaining the Japanese Medical System The steps (and how they reflect what I think is sound methodology): - With a colleague, I collect and write down 36 questions that are typically asked about the Japanese medical system by NJs. Obviously, these should be motivating topics to medical students who may not only may know the answers themselves but shouldalso kindle interest given the fact that this discussion allows them to prepare explanations to non-Japanese. - The questions are sent to the students in advance by email. They can choose which questions (generally, 4 each) they'd like to tackle, as long as they make sure there isn't any overlap. This element of choice heightens the sense of ownnership and thus, responsibility. Again, with the students having the questions in advance they can (must!) not only research the topic so as to say something interesting-- and with confidence-- about it but can prepare a prestige form of the language, raising consciousness about grammar, strategies/rhetotical forms, vocabulary. Consciousness is raised-- deeper learning occurs. - At the actual sessions I ask students one-by-one to give the answers to the questions they chose (they can make general notes but must not be read from a set essay form). Having prepped, this usually goes smoothly with very little hemming and hawing. However, all other students must listen closely because with each answer I will choose one to student to subsequently summarize it and another to add a comment or further question. This keeps them all actively involved- not only with the topic but also maintaining an awareness of the language being used to express the topics. This answer-summary-comment/question pattern eventually revolves among all the students. Open commentary on any other student's answer is also encouraged. I think you'd agree that this amounts more to guided discussion than what we normally consider to be 'conversation'. It works. But it might beg the following question: "Mike, do you ever employ more standard, spontaneous conversation activities in your classes?" I do-- but I'm very careful with how I structure those activities. I usually do it with the following parameters in mind: - I use it as a starter to wake students up, to get them actively involved, act as an appetizer for the rest of the lesson. - The topics are always connected to the theme of the lesson. - I have the topic written on the board in advance. Some examples are: "Have you ever been injured/very sick/hospitalized? When? Why? What happened? Talk about it" (this precedes a lesson on taking a patient history) or, "Your body: strong points/weak points-- What are they?" (before an anatomy-centered lesson). These topics are usually of interest to medical students and help to generate language (and cognition) that will be useful in the lesson. - I usually give my own story/response in advance- about 3 minutes long. I don't want to overload them with teacher talk but nonetheless want them to understand the topic clearly. This short teacher-story time also allows them to think about their own responses before they get a partner and start speaking themselves. - I give them one minute to look up and vocabulary they might want to use in the upcoming conversation, since they've had time to think about the content. - I have them partner with students they don't normally talk to. This helps them focus on the topic at hand and not the upcoming nomikai. - I give them about 10 minutes to discuss and I monitor the pairs. The diagnostic function in 'free conversation' - *This is crucial. After closing down the free conversation but before segueing into the main lesson theme I tell the students that they must write down any of the following that occured during the conversation: 1. Any Japanese that they coudn't express well in English (words or patterns) 2. Any words or patterns their partner used which they thought skilled or possibly useful for the future. Here we see the diagnostic function of the free conversation at work. In noting what they couldn't do well, and any resultant personal frustration, the students are challenged and motivated to study, or ask me, about these weak points themselves. A year-long list of these items is kept and is shown to me (for discussion) later in the year. And you??? All of which makes me want to ask-- How do you manage conversations productively in your teaching situations? The floor is open...]]> http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/05/putting_conversation_in_its_pr.html http://www.eltnews.com/columns/uni_files/2011/05/putting_conversation_in_its_pr.html Activities Grammar and vocabulary University methodology theory Mon, 23 May 2011 09:36:33 +0900