English Raven

Why VIPs in ELT need to manage their egos, do their homework, and weigh their words...

Gavin Dudeney recently wrote an interesting post on his blog about egos and self-promotion on twitter. As interesting as that discussion has become, the title of my blog post here looks at a different angle when it comes to egos and what VIPs in ELT do or do not say (well).

I (possibly like you) have met my fair share of ELT VIPs. For the most part, I can say with all confidence that they are some of the most interesting, likeable, and considerate people any profession could wish for in the way of motivators and role models.

However, fairly or unfairly, ELT is an industry that tends to create some absolutely enormous egos, and I'm not entirely sure that the holders of those egos actually realise the damage they are capable of inflicting, especially when they are careless enough to remain ignorant of a particular learning context while at the same time making some pretty big claims about what should or shouldn't be happening there.

At a recent conference in East Asia, a particularly eminent VIP chose his main plenary speech to lament the preponderance and negative influence of so-called "backpacker teachers" in Asia. "Lack of teaching qualifications" he railed, "eroding the quality of our profession", "just out and about to travel and have a good time", and that sort of stuff. Actually, it was borderline out-and-out mockery, from what I hear. Given this VIP was presenting at a conference in a country where a considerable number of what might be defined (in his terms - technically anyone without an education degree, a CELTA or possibly even an MA TESOL) "backpacker teachers" were present, this little rant pleased some people and really insulted a lot of others. Considering the VIP's stature in the profession, it also put up some steel bulwarks around an already solidifying stereotypical generalisation.

Probably most importantly, however, the comments came from an unqualified perspective (this man has never taught in this particular context) and did absolutely nothing to help understand or rectify what are actually potentially valid concerns.

This VIP was careful not to attack the private institutes (who buy his coursebooks in droves, of course), whose selection criteria for new teachers from abroad most often consists of "native speaker? capable of movement? pulse?" (and not necessarily in that order). He was also very careful not to criticise the laws and policies of the country in question, which (let's face it) become the governing threshold determining what sorts of 'teachers' can legally gain entry to start with.

In fact, he was very careful to leave the chickens alone entirely, feathers completely unruffled, and go directly for the eggs. And eggs of a particular colour, too. He focused specifically on the "native speakers" and (again, showing a rather selective sense of diplomacy) completely ignored the fact that a great many local teachers are as or even less qualified to teach English as the native speakers they work alongside.

I'm up for more teacher development and certification. I'm particularly up for promoting this at the institute level, where even the most inexperienced and 'unqualified' teacher (irrespective of native or non-native status), over the course of a one year contract, can become really bloody good at what they do, provided they have a supportive environment that includes regular in-service training and development. It's NOT actually that hard to do. And while there is certainly a level of reliability attached to CELTAs, I've met and worked with holders of dodgy cereal packet (my apologies in advance, but the majority of them were Canadian) TESOL Certs who were actually less prepared for this particular teaching context than the people who came with nothing but an open mind and a willingness to learn on the job, and respect the environment in which they had come to work.

I'm wondering if this VIP was aware of the vilification native speaker teachers have been experiencing in this country based on some very one-sided media coverage that took a few isolated examples of "naughty" or generally less than professional behaviour, plus a few fake degree holders, and made them into generalisations bordering on dangerous. Perhaps he did in fact know, and was just pandering to it. Perhaps he had no clue at all, read a newspaper on the plane, and threw it into his plenary figuring it was going to make him look all aware and down-to-earth with his conference audience. And/or, perhaps - just perhaps, this wally actually had no idea what he was talking about.

I'm not saying ELT VIPs need to jet in and address a particular context's English teaching trials and tribulations with a vengeance. I am saying, however, if you don't actually know what you are talking about, or what effect it could have (lasting a whole lot longer than it takes for the VIP to catch the taxi back to the airport), then - well, shut your trap. Concentrate on something else like task-based learning or corpus-based linguistics, which teachers love to hear about because it's not something they're likely to ever be able to use in their classrooms...

By the way, the particular ELT context I have addressed here has a very prominent chain of English language academies called TOSS ENGLISH (check them out - seems they're gearing up for a Winter TOSS Fest). I have a strong suspicion that they sponsored the plenary speaker in question, or at least - um, lent a hand in some way or another.

;-)

Confessions of a less than perfect teacher

I've read the warnings about how what you tweet, blog or post on Facebook can very possibly come back and bite you on the bottom later in life, most probably when you really don't expect or need it to. I understand the dangers, and accept them.

I also understand that certain readers may have high expectations of me as an ELT professional. If that applies to you, it might be a good idea to stop reading now.

It is time for English Raven to confess. To raise a wing and reveal some of the less savoury feathers squirreled away beneath.

I haven't always been a model English teacher.

Right. Let the airing begin, in the hope that cleansing and healing may follow...

  

Confession 1:

I have taught with a hangover before. Okay, I've done it several times - though admittedly only really in my first couple of years of teaching, when I was stupid enough to let my own boss drag me out on the town, thinking I was "doing as the Romans do" and following the local customs. Which I was. But I shouldn't have.

On one particulary (un)memorable occasion, I had to teach a group of kindergarten students with an absolutely shocking hangover. One little girl eyed me shrewdly for a while, then told me it was cooler on the floor and I might feel better if I lay down there. Another little girl, eyes wide with empathy, told me to go to the restroom and have a good heave. "That always makes my daddy feel better," she concluded wisely.

 

Confession 2:

I've deliberately made fun of a non-native co-teacher. I was teaching a class of late elementary school aged students who were preparing for a speech contest, and they were all memorising a short version of the Daedelus and Icarus story. During one lesson, I noticed suddenly that all the students were mispronouncing the word "feather" (they were using a long "e" sound so that it sounded like "feether"). No problems, fixed that little pronunciation issue, and had them all saying "feather" properly by the end of the lesson.

I came in to teach them the very next day, and they were ALL saying "feether" again. Actually, it was even more pronounced and was starting to sound like "feeether." I chortled a bit, thinking they were having a bit of a joke with me, and then told them to please go back to using "feather" correctly again.

"We're not allowed to," one student confessed. "*Nicky Teacher said it's feether, not feather." Well, *Nicky's just made a little mistake - just a very small one, mind you, because I think *Nicky Teacher's English is excellent, you know. But the kids were adamant. "She said you're wrong," they said, squirming a little, "... because you're from Australia and sometimes you don't say words right."

I managed to retain a sense of humour about this, and went to see my non-native teaching partner. The all-wise, all-knowing, dialectal expert *Nicky Teacher. Without batting an eye, in front of several staff members, she said it straight up. "You're wrong. You come from Australia. That's NOT how 'feather' is pronounced. I think you have to swallow some pride and admit you are wrong. Don't be ashamed, just teach them 'feether', okay?" A small argument developed, and eventually she turned her back on me and just walked away.

I stalked back to my class, wondering how in the blazes I wasn't going to cause a massive "loss of face" incident (not including the one I was already experiencing myself - and oh so unjustly). This was the so-called senior teacher of the non-native staff. So I arranged a little surprise for the expert *Nicky Teacher...

The next class, when it was her turn to teach, the students had some questions ready to ask her.

"How's the weether today, *Nicky Teacher?"

"Are you weering leether shoes today, *Nicky Teacher?"

"Do you want to eat some breed, *Nicky Teacher?"

Unbelievably, *Nicky Teacher still didn't believe I was right, but the sentences from the students at least convinced her to call up her Canadian friend and check it out.

"Mmm, guess you were right," she said later. "Hehehe! It's not my fault if I can't say some words perfectly, you know. I'm NOT a native speaker!"

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know - should've found a better and more sensitive way to have handled this. Give me a break, I was a first-year teacher...

   

Confession 3:

I've been thoroughly thrashed in a battle of wills with a 3.5 year old kindergarten student. We had a little girl in our kindergarten section called Jennifer. She was too young, technically, for the program, but was let in because she was "a genius." I think that was putting it mildly. She seemed to have an IQ of about 400. And like all young geniuses, she exhibited her intelligence by making trouble, inciting kindergarten bitch fights, and occasionally leading all out revolts against the establishment. Teacher after teacher tried and then demanded to be released from her class.

It got to the point where I, the most qualified and most experienced teacher at the time, and also the school's Academic Coordinator, had to step in. "Don't worry," I said soothingly to the troops in the staff room. "I will take care of this class personally. Jennifer will be a model student by the end of the week."

By the end of the week, I was seriously considering taking valium.

I tried everything in the little brown basket of non-lethal classroom management strategies for very young learners. Then I tried some stuff that worked more for young learners. Eventually, I started using techniques that were generally more appropriate for problematic teenagers, and while I did start to make some ground, Jennifer was still very much a Feral Sheryl with the capacity to win a Nobel Prize for Science (or perhaps Psychology).

Eventually, I went for the final method, the Big Cohuna. I marched Jennifer out into the hallway (okay, she sauntered out there), made her stand against the wall, leaned down, hands resting on my knees, and attempted to stare her out.

She stared back at me for more than 3 minutes, without flinching or blinking. After a while, I realised she was actually having a conversation with me just using her eyes. It went a little like this:

"This is the part where you try to psych me out, isn't it? It's a bit of intimidation mixed with kindness, and it's all about asserting that you are stronger than me, and yada yada yada, but - and please understand, I am awfully sorry to have to tell you this - you have all the insight of a blind badger... in a bag. Compared to me, you have about as much willpower as it takes to cover a very small and pathetically thin water cracker biscuit. Have you heard that saying about Big Mountain: Deep Valley? Guess not... Okay, shall I explain why the sky looks so high in autumn? Not getting anywhere here, are we? Is that a bead of sweat on your forehead? It's okay to blink, you know. You know you want to. Look, let's just admit that I've already been to all the places you're going to, and I'm going to all the places you'll never be. Want to go back into the class now? I think I hear the principal coming down the corridor, and you know how unseemly it would be for you to be seen getting totally stared down by a toddler..."

I cracked. I blinked. Defeated. By a toddler.

"Right," I said, somewhat shakily. "Yes. I'm glad we've sorted that all out. Now let's go back into the classroom."

She nodded sagely, followed me back into the class, and - very interestingly - was a model of good behaviour from that moment on. Once I'd admitted she was stronger and a hell of a lot smarter than me, she appeared to be satisfied, and made no more fuss.

Humbling experience...

  

Confession 4:

I've laughed myself silly at students breaking wind in my class. On one particulary memorable occasion, a 3rd-grader let an enormous beef go in the middle of a test. As the other kids recoiled in shock and disgust, he looked around and said, nonchalantly, "What?" - with tone and facial expression exactly replicating the man's behavior at the end of this clip here.

I laughed so hard I had to leave the classroom. When other teachers couldn't understand why I thought it was so funny, it made me laugh even harder. I was actually crying by the end of it all. Hilarious little guy...

 

Confession 5:

I've isolated students in small rooms before. Two teenage students in one of my classes - a boy and a girl - were so nasty to each other and so hell-bent on disrupting each and every class with vitriol-laden insults to each other, that eventually I took them out of the class, down the corridor to the small(ish) storeroom, shut them inside (but not locked, mind you) and told them they weren't allowed to come out until they'd sorted out their differences.

They remained inside for about a minute, I'd say, making no noise whatsoever. They came out looking mildly horrified. I won't say they suddenly became nice to each other after that, but the insults and disruptions ceased altogether. Perhaps it helped them sort out the 'tensions' between them. Perhaps they were just completely horrified at the thought of being shut up in a room with that many English coursebooks stacked up around them...

Yeah, yeah, I know - wrong, wrong, wrong. Again, I was a first-year teacher at the time. Just because stuff works doesn't mean it's right...

  

Confession 6:

I've abused positive reinforcement policies at schools for my own entertainment. A sterling example of this was at a school that insisted the teachers give stickers out to students at the end of each class - theoretically if they'd done well, in practice no matter how they'd behaved because the general idea was for the kids to go back home to their parents and talk about what a fun and cool school it was.

I quickly discovered that the children would do anything, anything in the world, for extra stickers. I didn't believe in the practice (at that stage in my teaching, I was all blustery about intrinsic motivation and all that), but was constantly berated for not being as generous as the other teachers. I decided to see how far I could take it...

At the end of one class at the end of a particulary frustrating week with the school's owners, I offered the class a challenge. I wouldn't give out three stickers today to each student, nor even six or nine stickers. I was going to give a whole sheet of stickers (100 in total) to whichever student agreed to do whatever I asked them to do, on the spot. One girl quickly volunteered...

One minute later, in the busy foyer of our school, crowded with parents either waiting for their kids or waiting to have their kids leveled into our program, a 5th grader suddenly dashed in, ran around in circles, waving her arms wildly, singing "I'm getting stickers, I didn't do anything, but I'm getting stickers...!" 

Thank God none of the parents understood a lick of English... My self-indulgent protest against the Stickily Stupid Sticker Policy quite possibly backfired completely, as parents and kids saw an obviously happy girl dancing around with stickers in her hands.

Terribly immature on my part, I know, I know. What? I warned you at the start of the post, did I not? I was young... I needed the money... I didn't know what I was signing, swear!

  

Confession 7:

I've used the PPP Method in my classes. Actually, both of them. Presentation, Practice, Production and Pretense, Procrastination, Pleading.

  

:-)

* Certain names in the this account are entirely factual. If they ever come across my blog, I want them to remember me, and know that the whole world now knows exactly what they did!

Jumping a little too far with conclusions about media use and literacy...

  

This article from the BBC, titled Children who use technology are 'better writers', has been doing the RT rounds heavily of late on Twitter. It's sort of not surprising in a way, because the technophile teachers on Twitter are more than a little gleeful to report the idea that social media use appears to guarantee better literacy levels in their students.

What did surprise me, however, was how far this conclusion jumped beyond the real substance of the article (though the article title itself is also to blame).

According to the article:

Of the children who neither blogged nor used social network sites, 47% rated their writing as "good" or "very good", while 61% of the bloggers and 56% of the social networkers said the same.

  

That is, children who blogged and used social networking sites rated themselves as good or very good writers.

And that's the extent of the research and evidence.

While there is little doubt in my mind that media-savvy children are writing more than their non-technology endowed peers, and probably also developing better overall literacy skills, this is just my broad opinion based on intuition, and a survey where children rated themselves doesn't suddenly provide a backbone of supporting evidence. All we can really say - based on this particular survey and report - is that child bloggers and media networkers clearly felt more confident about their writing ability.

Confidence in itself is a great thing, and a wonderful finding in young writers, but let's not jump too far in what we conclude...

 

:-)
 

A new take on the Cinderella story - by Mrs. Raven!

 
  

I may have mentioned in other posts somewhere that my wife (let's refer to her here as just Mrs. Raven) is attending a free English program for migrants here in Australia. It gives me two days a week to mind the kids and play Mr. Mum, but it also gives me some additional fascinating insights into what it's like to be a language learner again and attend classes in an ESL context.

My wife's conversational English is actually very good (we've been together more than 9 years now), though I have to admit she tends to communicate much more effectively these days (with me personally) through particular kinds of "wifely looks and glances" that can speak volumes... Anyway, she's more up for and into these classes for the social side of things, getting to know other migrants in similar (and also vastly different) circumstances to her.

She does show me her work a lot of the time, and this most recent one gave me a bit of a chuckle! She was asked to write a paragraph and re-work one part of the Cinderella story. She gave me permission to re-print it here (so long as I made some corrections).

  

The prince and his retainers brought a crystal shoe to Cinderella's house. Cinderella's step-sisters tried to put the shoe on, but it obviously didn't belong to them. After that, Cinderella's step-mum tried it on - and oh my goodness, it was the right fit! Even the step-mother couldn't believe it.

The prince looked suddenly confused.

"Sorry," he said. "I think I brought my sister's shoe by mistake. I'll be back..."

Then the prince ran away as fast as he could.

Cinderella called after him "Hey you! I haven't even tried it on yet!"

My wife has a sensational sense of humour, and a fair chunk of it has emerged here. She was telling me, however, that when it came time to read out their quick story adaptations in front of the class, it became apparent that she was the only one who had attempted a comical adaptation. Apparently only she and one other student in the class found her adaptation funny - even the teacher didn't quite seem to grasp it. That of course led to one of those "right, mmm - yes, okay, well I thought it was funny when I was writing it..." moments.

Don't worry darling, I thought it was funny. And I'm sure my blog readers will think it worth a quick chuckle as well.

:-)

Ditched coursebook deal means Raven's Nest reopens for business!

It can be an interesting thing when a coursebook project you've been working heavily on goes the way of the dodo. Among many things, it means the English Raven blog is reopening for business as usual (you know, the usual squawking, feather-ruffling, and "Raven and Egg" ponderings), and here it also paves the way for a new post about why a "coursebook writer" would ever give up a lucrative new coursebook writing deal.

Well, to start with, I sort of had to give it up. When you write a series as big as Boost! (with 20 books covering five major skill strands, going global in distribution), you face two very real problems: (1) everyone associates you with a particular ELT age group segment, and seeks out your writing/design services for the same segment; and (2) you can't realistically write much for this segment any more because anything you make will technically compete with the publications you've already produced under contract with one publisher.

In this case, it turned out (after three rounds of editing and re-working samples under the direction of an entirely over-staffed editing team) that what I was working on was basically being made into a clone of one of the Boost! skill strands. I've never been particularly well-known for being patient, and I quickly tired of all attempts to steer the publisher away to a new and original concept. Interestingly, it became more and more apparent why this publisher had specifically sought out the Boost! author to start with, given they were going to launch this new title into a market where Boost! was already well and truly entrenched as a market leader...

Despite all the technical and legal ramifications associated with a non-compete clause in the Boost! writing contract, what became shiningly clear to me was that I no longer enjoy writing coursebooks - especially made-to-order ones for 'mainstream ELT'.

With this latest project in particular, I actually began to loathe the whole idea of writing a coursebook. Sitting down to write each day, I would have to force an increasingly bad taste in my mouth back down my throat, hoping my stomach acids would consume it quickly and pass it along to somewhere more appropriate in my digestive system. I often found myself staring out the window of my office, thinking in despair, "Is this what it has all come down to? Is this what ELT writing is all about now?" Despite the blue skies outside, what I saw there was becoming increasingly bleak. Full of details and features, but essentially barren.

Basically, some of the things I hear now (as a writer "on the job") from established, mainstream ELT publishers are becoming genuinely disturbing:

- "Put more warm-up questions in, because many teachers don't know how to get the learners talking..."

- "Explain the skill for the unit very simply and in less than 10 words, so that teachers don't get scared when they read it..."

- "Put in more 'useful words' under the writing topic, to help the learners think of something to write, and include a full sample answer to the writing topic so the teachers know what to expect from the learners..."

- "Add 2-3 more reading comprehension questions per page, because these days the schools want the learners to be busier and work harder..."

  

Okay, that's only a very small and over-simplified (in some ways) sample from the dialogue I've been most recently engaged in, and (of course) it is not meant to be taken as representative of all commercial ELT publishers in all writing projects... BUT, it does shine a light on what publishers and potentially the teachers they cater to think and expect these days from ELT course materials:

Do more of my job for me, thanks.

Keep my learners busy, but don't challenge them much, please. Actually... don't challenge them at all!

Don't feature anything new - more of the same, if you please!

  

There may be a whole range of arguments that challenge or rationalize the perceptions I've gabbled out above, but, to be perfectly honest, personally I'm sick and tired of them. ELT course material design has been in a sick state for a long time, and despite the colour and the gloss, it's only getting worse.

Treating teachers and learners like complete dummies may help to sell more books in the here-and-now, but I'd like to see anyone convincingly argue that it makes anyone smarter in the long run. It certainly doesn't make ELT writers any smarter...

 

The non-compete clause in my Boost! contract has put a serious dent in my earnings potential for the next year or two, but in a lot of ways it actually feels like it may have saved my 'ELT soul'. It gave me an exit ticket from a journey that was starting to take me through some really bad places, and avoided having to end up "back in the place I was before."

Right, feel better already. Now, how am I ever going to get my wife to understand this...?

Advice: Never give up a lucrative contract a couple of weeks before Christmas, especially when you have little kids. Wait until the New Year, and hope your wife's resolution will be to forgive you.

:-)

An apology to English Raven members and blog followers...

Well, you may have noticed that there haven't been many posts for the past 6 weeks or so on the blog, and some English Raven members are no doubt wondering where the World News for Kids articles and new World Adventure Kids project are headed. Still others are wondering what has happened to all the interviews and follow-up articles I promised for this blog...

And yet others have assumed that I have fallen into a voluminous black sack somewhere and can't crawl out. Perhaps others are hoping that's actually true!

The truth is that a new publishing project has landed on my lap and it has deadlines that are extreme. Projects like English Raven certainly don't generate anywhere near the income required to turn down publishing projects like this one, and what additional attention I can spare needs to be thrown into my online TOEFL services, which - in comparison to English Raven - do in fact generate a healthy income.

So my heartfelt apologies to people wondering where all the development in English Raven is going, and a humble plea to be a little patient... My current publishing project will wind up at the end of December this year, and I'll be free to dedicate some energy to English Raven and its hoards of materials and projects from early next year. Nothing is lost, nothing is cancelled. There's just a bit of time out here to generate the sort of income I need in order to pursue the projects I love to do and dream about developing. I'll be back in the early new year in 2010 - with a vengeance!

Apologies again,

~ Jason

:D

The Korean notion of "waeguk-saram" (foreigner)

If you've spent any significant amount of time in South Korea and picked up even the most rudimentary vocabulary of Korean, you've most likely heard the word waeguk-saram more times than you could possibly count.

That's because, in Korea, that's what you are if you aren't Korean: waeguk-saram (or sometimes just waegukin) means "foreigner".

Personally, I've never particularly liked the word "foreigner", as it isn't too far removed from a word that resounds with even more sense of isolation in "alien" (which is, in fact, the word most often used in translation for waeguk-saram in formal/bureacratic Korean). In Australia at least, it has never been a particularly polite or refined way of referring to someone of a different nationality who happens to be visiting your country, and is almost never heard with reference to someone who has actually moved here to live, work, or study. You'll see and hear terms like "international student", "international visitor", and "migrant" much more often than you'll hear a blanket term like "foreigner".

Needless to say, during 10 years of living in Korea, it often made me wince ever so slightly when I had to hear every Park, Lee and Jung refer to me (usually while I was standing right next to them) as "that there foreigner". Remembering that sensation, I'm even more sensitive about ever using the word myself now that I'm back in my own country and surrounded by such a rich array of nationalities.

However, I've always felt that I didn't have quite the full picture when it came to waeguk-saram and Koreans' understanding and use of the term. That was confirmed today when I took my wife and kids to meet a gathering of Korean mums and housewives who had decided to meet up in Melbourne for some lunch and bonding.

My main job was to take care of our son and baby daughter while my wife engaged in some much-needed chinwagging with other Korean ladies - all of whom are relatively recently arrived in Australia as migrants and applicants for permanent residence. I was doing a very good job with this and keeping my nose firmly out of their business until it occurred to me that I was hearing those terms waeguk-saram and waegukin again and again from their conversation. I got curious and listened in a bit, not all that naughtily I might add (it was apparent to everyone there that I speak decent Korean and I was seated right there at a table with them!), to figure out why this - one of my least-favourite Korean terms - was being used so much.

Abruptly, I realised that these ladies - with the exception of my wife, who knows my distaste for the word and was the only one of these particular Korean ladies actually married to a non-Korean - were referring to all and sundry around them in their new home in Australia as waeguk-saram or waegukin: foreigners and foreign-ish things! I was amused and startled at the same time by this, and later explained to my wife why.

1. The term Hoju-saram (Australian) was used very rarely in their conversational dialogue - waeguk-saram was by far the dominant referent.

2. If anyone could/should be referred to as foreigners in this environment (Australia), it would be the Koreans themselves - not the Australians, not the Chinese-Australians, Vietnamese-Australians (etc.) all about them.

3. Even if this is the basic case (that these newish Korean arrivals are the actual "foreigners" in this context), the majority of Australians wouldn't see them that way (given they are here as migrants), and would almost certainly never directly refer to them that way.

  

Bizarre as it might sound, I was listening to "foreigners" referring to natives in their own country (who wouldn't necessarily consider the foreigners as being such nor would ever directly call them that)  as the foreigners. Does that make sense, or have I twisted my own concept into too many figure eights?

It was a revelation to me, because while in Korea I got so used to being labelled a foreigner that I actually began to regularly refer to myself and my friends as being such. You'll even see "foreign teacher" being the popular term of parlance in recruitment and scheduling in Korean schools. Being called a foreigner and being constantly reminded of your foreign condition is all a part of handling the Korean context. But even here in my own country, to these people I'm still the foreigner! While in Korea, sitting around a table with other Australians (or for that matter even other westerners) I just cannot in my wildest dreams imagine anyone referring to the Koreans around us as foreigners!

I'm not relating this experience here to have a quip at Koreans about their concept of "foreigner"- rather, I'm admitting that I guess I didn't really understand just how deep the Korean root feeling of ethnicity (and a deeply ingrained sense of "us" versus "them") runs - and (I confess) I still don't know now! I can say with some confidence that no Korean really uses the term "foreigner" in an attempt to be rude or derogatory; for them it is a simple statement of fact that indicates a separation of Korean from non-Korean, irrespective of location or context. It may sound a little scary or extreme to some (I'll confess, myself included) for there to be such a quick and all-encompassing distinction made in many Koreans' minds, just as it is rather heart-warming to hear the Koreans' instinctive use of uri ("our") when they refer to family members and possessions.

  

Just when you thought you had something figured, eh?

:D

Halloween games and learning materials for kids

It's getting close to that time of the year again - HALLOWEEN! Before I get too busy with various other things, thought I'd better post about the page of Halloween materials and activities I have on English Raven - given everything on it is 100% free for site visitors and it's been a popular destination for teachers over the years.

The page includes flashcards, card games, word searches and puzzles - all highlighting Halloween vocabulary and concepts. Here's a quick preview for you!

   

   

Hope they give you some starters - though remember there is an asbolute plethora of great activity stuff out there on the web for Halloween now (try Googling it!).

  

:D

  

Do "self-selected" membership fees for a teacher resource site actually work? In a word, YES!

I've been somewhat missing in action from this blog over the past couple of weeks. There are a plethora of reasons, not least my wife's recent induction into an AMES language program here in Australia (thank you, Australian government, for footing the bill for 510 hours of language instruction leading to a real work qualification for new permanent residents, offering free child care, and providing a free voluntary tutor that does house visits to boot!). I've also had an explosion in demand over on RISE for TOEFL speaking and writing subscriptions, and I've been struggling to keep up with it all!

So partly to allay the great Alex Case's fears that something must be wrong for me not to post, but mostly to explain another reason I've been too busy to pop in here and write something, let me now give you an update on the intriguing "let members choose how much they pay" experiment I've had going for a month or so now for my main teacher resource site/service: English Raven.

Inspired by Radiohead's move a couple of years back, where they let fans choose their own price to download their whole new album of songs, I decided to scrap a set fee for membership in English Raven and let teachers decide for themselves how much they could/should/would pay for access to all of my materials for an entire calendar year.

Of course, it went a bit beyond that. I had always been concerned that one set membership price could (a) disadvantage or turn away teachers who were only after a couple of specific things or sections of the site materials; and/or (b) slap those teachers who happened to be in a country where the income or exchange rate made purchasing a membership with my site inordinately expensive; and/or (c) get away from the basic idea that money earned through English Raven would basically help the site pay for itself in terms of hosting, space, time investment, etc.

After I made the change to a self-elected fee, word got around pretty quickly, and I've had dozens of emails from blogsters and site owners wondering how it is all going.

  

Early days yet, of course, but here's what I've noticed from all the various numbers:

1. Generally speaking, although almost all teachers pay widely different amounts for a membership, the average is about the same as what I had originally as a pre-set figure.

2. My rate of membership sign-ups has almost doubled. It usually comes close to doubling at this time of the year anyway, but I'm talking "double the number that already doubles" - or something like that!

3. I'm getting a lot more members from parts of the world like Eastern Europe, which tended to be a source of a lot of visitors in the past but not paying members.

4. Site visitation in general has gone completely through the roof. I've had some generous WOM support from some great and influential people lately (namely Larry Ferlazzo and Sandy Kemsley) which needs to be factored in there, but I do believe the "choose your own membership fee" has had a definite impact on general visitation as well.

   

So far, a resounding success. It works. If you let site visitors choose their own fee, you will get a lot more members and most probably make more money than you were making previously.

That's the theory, anyway, and the pattern for my own site at this stage appears to confirm it.

 

Why does it work? Well, I may have already sort of answered that in some ways above, but I may pass it over to some of you readers to ponder and comment on for a while...

AND, could I be so arrogant and bold (and/or naive) as to say this little experiment may pave the way to more teacher resource sites using the same sort of pay-for procedure? Would it be such a bad thing?

  

:-D

 

Using Shaun the Sheep for language development (output rather than input!)

This is one of my son's all-time favourites, and his older cousins (6 and 8) are mad about it, too. Funnily enough, it is something adults can sit around and howl with laughter at as well.

Yes, it's Shaun the Sheep!

 

   

What I love about these kind of kid's programs is that they don't have any dialogue in them. Everything is picked up from the context and actions.

Now, for language learners, some teachers avoid these because of the very fact there is no dialogue in them and there won't be any "comprehensible input" for them to listen to.

What I think they're missing is:

1. These episodes appeal to and really interest kids - they become engaged;

2. Kids decide for themselves how the story ought to be vocalised, and are willing to ask for help if they can't name or describe something;

3. The stories become perfect for any language learning level, because everything is visual and contextual and they can tell or talk about the story using whatever language they have at their disposal;

4. They can be watched over and over again, with richer descriptions applied incrementally (I watched Jamie go from one word scene descriptions to very active "what is happening now" utterances, and then on to rich cause and effect accounts, predictions and then even inferences).

 

I think half the problem with videos/DVDs for teachers is that they automatically worry too much about the "level" of the language input involved. If we make the input visual and contextual, then we have a beautifully rich resource for encouraging language output - especially experimentation with language.

   

By the way, I see absolutely no reason why the Shaun the Sheep episodes wouldn't work with older teens and adults as well. They're absolutely hilarious, and there are many layers of inference possible.

  

:-D

  

Spellbound with "The Wizard" - by Jack Prelutsky

   

I picked this book up for Jamie last weekend, and my - what an absolute beauty! The Wizard is written by children's poet laureate Jack Prelutsky, and illustrated by the amazingly talented Brandon Dorman.

It's the poetic story of a mysterious wizard who lives in a spooky tower at the end of what appears to be your average suburban street. It's beautifully written and had both Jamie and I completely spellbound. The pictures are just superb, and Jamie has been having loads of fun talking about what he can see in each illustration - but also what he can almost see or might see... I've been cajoled into reading it at least three times every night before we go to bed, ever since we brought it home!

There just aren't enough of these kinds of storybooks appearing these days. Publishers have become so 'sanitized' in their selection criteria that it's kind of surprising to see a story about a wizard who (apparently quite callously at first) puts a live frog through a variety of bizarre transformations, and then leans out the window of his tower at the end and peers down at the children playing heedless on the street below (with the final hint that he might put one of his transformation spells on one of them). As we talk about the story and this mysterious Wizard fellow, Jamie has come to discover that the wizard may not actually be all that evil at all - maybe "naughty" if anything, and with a definite cheeky sense of humour.

In any case, I totally recommend this for your children's bookcase collection. It's an absolute cracker!

 

A couple of bonuses as well:

You can see a fantastic preview of the book's contents on the Harper Collins Children's Book Site page

Jack Prelutsky's personal site is an entertaining spot for children, parents and teachers

Read Jack's Integrating Poetry with Other Arts and Classroom Activities (for teachers)

Jack's Tips for Reading with the Very Young (for teachers and parents)

 

On a final aside, one thing I like about publisher sites like the Harper Collins one is the fact that they feature direct high visual links to the author's and illustrator's homepages. ELT publishers rarely if ever do that - they didn't and continue to refuse to do so for me, anyway, (see here) despite my polite requests and pleading. In fact, they won't even update my author page or replace the horrendous picture that's there...

But I digress!

Get yourself a copy of The Wizard and enjoy bringing some spooky and imagination-tugging creativity to your child/ren!

 

:-D

 

Grammar Games and Activities for Younger Learners

I've always been a big fan of simple grammar games that can be used in YL classrooms with minimal preparation and focus on using clear grammar patterns for realistic and practical speaking tasks.

I use them in two ways or directions: (1) pre-planned as part of a (build up to a) specific communicative activity, and (2) on the spot as a particular grammar point becomes more salient through various other activities.

They are actually simpler to design and apply than many teachers imagine, and they still focus predominantly on having learners express themselves and improve both their accuracy and awareness of grammar while communicating something. In addition, they also make good use of game-like rules and parameters, to keep learners motivated and energetic with them.

Here's an example from one of my Activity and Resource Kits on English Raven:

 

 

That particular kit has 55 different grammar games listed, described and exemplified. It is available as an e-book download for English Raven Members, along with the rest of the huge stash of materials on the site.

   

You can also order it as a single unified file to be delivered in e-book (PDF) format directly to your email account, for just US$ 5.00!

   

:-D

   

English Raven at KOTESOL Conference 2009

Well, I've had my presentation proposals accepted and I'll be heading back to Korea to present a couple of seminars at the Korea TESOL (KOTESOL) International Conference on October 24-25.

I've actually lost count how many KOTESOL ICs I've attended, but this will be the first time in almost four years that I haven't been there as a guest of Pearson Education (and subsequently the first time in quite a while that I'll be presenting on something other than the Boost! Integrated Skills coursebooks!). The price of going as an independent presenter this time is compounded by the fact that I'm jetting into Seoul all the way from Melbourne this time, rather than getting a 30 minute flight up from Kimhae Airport in Busan. It's going to cost a bit between the airfare and the accommodation, but it is an excellent conference and I'll be able to catch up with a lot of old friends.

Here are the abstracts for my two presentations, in case you happen to be at the event and want to come along and say hello!

   

How to Make TOEFL Speaking Involved, Interesting, and INTERACTIVE!

Unfortunately (and curiously), the majority of test-preparation materials on the market for the TOEFL iBT speaking section are rather uninspiring and – in many cases – just downright boring, for both students and teachers! They also tend to target single users preparing for the test on their own, which creates complications for classroom and group-based students preparing for the test together with a single teacher. In this presentation and accompanying workshop, Jason Renshaw will present a unique approach to TOEFL speaking preparation that focuses on three essential criteria. These are that the students should become personally INVOLVED in the tasks; they should find the content and applications INTERESTING; and – most importantly – the activities should promote genuine INTERACTION. In addition, Jason’s approach to classroom-based TOEFL speaking tasks promotes the idea of teachers being facilitators of practice rather than just “checkers”. Finally, the tasks presented also encourage whole-class participation rather than isolated performances.  Whether you are a student preparing for the TOEFL speaking section or a teacher responsible for preparing learners for the test, you’re likely to find some ideas here to inspire you. This will be a very hands-on workshop, so be prepared to participate!

   

   

Creating an Adventure-based Reading Approach for 9-14 year olds

Part of our professional practice as English teachers(and materials writers) is to explore new approaches to teaching and learning. “Adventure-based” Reading is an example of this creative process borne out of classroom experience, designed by Jason Renshaw. It specifically targets first and second language learners aged 9-14 who are ready to move on from standard levelled-reading approaches, and seeks to incorporate priorities such as extensive and voluntary reading, reading fluency, and integrated and content-based reading. It also targets global issues, a values-based curriculum, and the combination of non-fiction elements within an imaginative fiction-style format. Central to the approach is the idea of the reader him/herself becoming the main character in the story and controlling the direction of the plot to experience a genuine adventure! Adventure-based reading also addresses the tricky issues of mixed-ability classrooms and reader motivation. It is flexible enough to be used as a whole-class or independent reading application. In this presentation, Jason will explain how and why this new approach was developed, and give attendees a taste of Adventure-based Reading so they can experience it for themselves.

 

 

Biography

Jason Renshaw is a veteran teacher of English as a second and foreign language, having taught the language for more than 17 years in countries on three different continents. He is a graduate of the University of Melbourne and his Korea-based experience amounts to 10 years teaching in private institutes, culminating in a position as visiting professor in the English Education department at Kyungpook National University. He is the author of the acclaimed BOOST! Longman Integrated Skills Series, and is the founder/webmaster of the well-known teacher resource website www.englishraven.com. He has also developed considerable specialization in materials design and test preparation for TOEFL, TOEIC and IELTS. Currently, Jason lives in Australia and works from his home next to the beach as a freelance ELT materials writer and tutor for his own online school: www.English-iTutor.com.

  

:-D

 

Beyond and before teacher training

Are teacher training and teacher development one and the same? How should they be scheduled? Should attendance be compulsory? Should they be compensated?

  

These are pretty fundamental questions in our profession that aren’t always easy to answer. They keep some teaching supervisors and coordinators awake at night, cause others to be lauded for their success, and relegate others to a despised role as the ineffective head of a teaching team... 

While I might concede that teacher training can contribute to overall teacher development, I’ve found it useful in my own experience as an academic coordinator and “teacher trainer” to differentiate the two - and in fact add a third priority. The following are my own views, experiences and suggestions when it comes to teacher training, program development, and teacher development. They go beyond initial pre-service formal training qualifications (like a CELTA for example) and deal specifically with training and development as it happens in actual school/institutional contexts.

   

   

Teacher Training

  

To me, this is the instruction to teachers most directly relevant to their jobs at a particular school or in a specific program. Through teacher training, teachers learn about the school’s program and methodological perspectives, the content they need to teach, any lesson planning requirements, how to test and assess, and various other administrative tasks that might be considered fundamental to their day-to-day jobs at the school. Generally speaking, the more organised and targeted a school’s program is, the more important effective training becomes.

I also distinguish between pre-service and in-service training.

New teachers at a school will need initial training to understand the school, the program, the levels and the overall job requirements. Unfortunately, there are many TEFL schools around the world that treat initial teacher training as a day’s worth of teacher observation, and from there they are basically forced to develop their understanding about the school and its programs through trial and error.

However, no matter how lengthy or robust initial teacher training is, it needs to be followed up regularly – through in-service training. This is how a school checks ongoing understanding of the program, improves the delivery of it, announces changes to approaches and materials, and explains clearly how they are to be applied. It could also include ongoing tips on ways to handle administrative tasks more effectively.

To some degree, I’ve always seen and applied teacher training through a bit of a top-down model. It’s a way of communicating clearly from the school/employer/manager level to the teaching team. The teachers are employed and expected to perform according to the school’s requirements – it’s their job. Now, before you go diving for the comments section with your fingers over the necessary keys to type out “authoritarian pig-dog!” please bear in mind that I also believe ongoing in-service teacher training in this fashion can only ever be effective if it exists alongside (and in fact feeds from) two other important applications: program development and teacher development. Without those, all you really have is actually an organised “ordering about” program. Some schools are satisfied with leaving it at that; some are even satisfied with something less (expecting things of their teachers and assuming things about the work role, but only ever informing them about it when the teachers “stuff up” in some way). Schools that only feature top-down training can sometimes be not particularly motivating to work with. Schools that don’t even provide that can be positively frustrating.

 

  

Program Development

  

Program development (to me) involves improving the school’s overall curriculum, materials and teaching approaches. Some readers out there might be wondering why this is included in a post about teacher training and teacher development, as program development is often considered a completely separate and complicated priority. In many schools, program development happens behind doors between certain members of management, is delivered from afar from a head office of some sort, or may even include handsomely paid external ‘consultants’.

To me (as an academic coordinator or DoS), program development simply MUST involve the teachers – they are the people who interpret and deliver the school’s program and without them it is an empty shell without much real substance at all. It isn’t all that hard to include teachers in the process of selecting coursebooks, deciding on scheduling and necessary supplementary materials, etc. They can also help identify what sort of training will be needed to deliver the program most effectively. Aside from the fact that (in my experience) teachers tend to be excellent contributors to effective program development, by including them in the process you are giving them a direct say in what they will experience as part of teacher training (see above) – validating that application to a greater extent. If the teachers can contribute to and agree on the program to be delivered, they are more than likely to be more positive about attending the necessary training sessions to better understand and learn how to apply the program.

Note that I said “contribute to” program development. It’s not always a good idea to let the teachers by themselves decide the program from A-Z in some kind of open forum. Aside from teaching experience, the teachers don’t always have the necessary context-locality experience, nor the business know-how to incorporate a program that meets everybody’s needs. It will most often need to involve a series of compromises. In my opinion, it is this ability to listen and compromise that makes or breaks academic coordinators and school owners on the one hand, and teachers on the other. In an inclusive approach to program development, it is rare that both sides will have every single one of their preferences catered to. In worst case scenarios, some school managers just talk with their ears shut, while some teachers just resort to whining and criticising without being willing to make suggestions or back them up with examples or samples. The resulting program development and associated teacher training can become almost farcical. But if program development happens regularly in an open-minded and give-and-take spirit, both sides can have wins (perhaps enough to even make the work feel worthwhile), and some things can be won together. In this divide between teachers and management, we need more bridges – not widening gulfs. In my experience, involving (and I mean really listening to) teachers in program development creates more bridges than gulfs. Even if the teachers didn’t get their own way in all things, the very act of talking to and listening to (and even debating with) them can make a very big difference to effective program delivery and teacher training sessions. The surest way to turn a teaching team surly is to not involve or let them say their piece at all…

 

So we might conclude that inclusive program development can lead to effective and relevant teacher training, and can certainly alleviate some of the potential authoritarianism and “one-way-traffic” feel of it. What, then, of this notion of teacher development?

   

  

Teacher Development

   

You might well argue that if teachers are involved in program development and attending regular teacher training, then they are developing – and “teacher development” is happening almost by default. I don’t quite see it this way.

To me, program development and teacher training are most directly related to teachers’ day-to-day work challenges in a particular school or context. Teacher development, on the other hand (and while closely linked to those processes), should be more expansive and more creative. It should have the teachers’ own concerns and interests at heart, and to that end it may involve exploring things well beyond one particular context or set of coursebooks. Teachers may bring experience of teaching in other contexts or want to develop aspects of their teaching that will be more relevant in contexts beyond the one they currently find themselves in. It could involve almost anything, but to me the golden rule is that it is the teachers themselves who decide everything in a teacher development program.

That might sound too vague to implement in any sort of effective way. In fact, in my own experience, many teachers have found the notion of open teacher development a bit baffling or even intimidating. Dare I say it, in some cases it’s been like watching prisoners subject to gruel and water day in day out being taken out to a smorgasbord lunch. In some cases they dive in and eat ravenously of anything and everything – making a complete (but delighted) mess of it. In most cases they stand back – suddenly not sure what to partake of, and perhaps not quite sure that they are actually allowed to!

A good way to get a teacher development program started is to start simple, for example by having an activity swap-shop session. Teachers have 15-20 minutes to present and demonstrate their favourite teaching activity, taking turns and according to who is willing to get up and give it a shot.

The opportunities to go on from there are almost endless. Teachers can be invited to suggest things they’d like to know more about (anything from a teaching approach to what it’s like to teach adults – if in a YL setting), and then someone from the teaching team can volunteer to host a small session exploring that area. They could take turns conducting fun-style lessons in other foreign languages they happen to know, or even contribute to a Lonely Planet style presentation series about different TEFL contexts around the world (if you have teachers who have taught English in multiple locations).

Teacher development can also be more guided and facilitated (and yet still have teachers’ interests and priorities at heart). For example, they could be asked to get into teams and come up with a completely new and innovative teaching approach, or talk about their favourite student, or even present some new culture tips about the foreign language context they are working in. They could also present some ways they have managed to cut down on the time needed for lesson planning or administration. They could take turns presenting a particular problem they’ve been having with their teaching, with the rest of the team makes suggestions about how to overcome or at least handle it. Perhaps they could be asked to showcase how they use technology in their own teaching development. It could even involve debate, with a particular proposition given to them (like “we should be doing TPR with all learners under 10 for at least 5 minutes at the start of every class”) and then letting them go nuts with it.

The very best in-house teacher development sessions I have seen, however, were the ones where teachers got up and did whatever the heck they liked (so long as it had some sort of link to teaching).

I guess my main point here is that involvement in program development and associated teacher training can certainly help teachers to do their jobs better, and even more happily. But to me, teacher development is very broad, very inclusive, creative, and as much about sharing and exploring as it is listening and learning. It focuses on the fact that teachers are human beings, all human beings are different, and all of them have something different to contribute (or similar things to contribute in different ways!). It gives each of these different people a voice that is entirely their own – and values it. Even when teacher development topics have apparently tenuous links to actual teaching, they can still be enormously entertaining and insightful.

And let’s not forget that it also creates potential benefits for schools.

Aside from the fact that teacher development sessions of this nature can be very enjoyable, entertaining and motivating (having much needed positive impacts on overall teacher morale – and remember: happy teachers = happy students = happy school…?), they can also feed back into program development and teacher training in often positive and sometimes unexpected ways. Culture tips, creative new method or techniques, debate outcomes, technology innovations, tips about effective lesson planning – they can all potentially become ideas on how to improve the school’s program in ways that all (or at least the majority of) teachers can agree on. They can also lead to areas of interest or concern where specific teacher training is actually requested by the teachers. Program development and teacher training alone are not always well equipped to facilitate this sort of lateral thinking and creative innovation, but a good approach to teacher development often is.

 

   

  

Well, up until now we’ve sort of treated teacher training, program development and teacher development as valid necessities. However, whether or not they go ahead and work well depends a lot on some more pragmatic considerations.

   

 

Scheduling

  

Let’s start with scheduling. Too much or too little of anything is rarely the right portion, and the same applies here. Remember that the following recommendations are based only on my own experience and opinion!

Generally speaking, teacher training should involve at least a week of pre-service training and then monthly or bimonthly ongoing in-service application (it depends a lot on the particular context and program, but whatever is decided on, it is important to create a reliable routine). Alternatively, teacher training can follow immediately or close after the program development sessions attended by teachers, if they are the primary source of teacher training priorities.

Program development? Well, depending on the given “session” (whether it is 9 weeks or a spring term), I generally go for two (or three) program development meetings – one at the end of a session to reflect and make necessary changes for the next session, another mid-way through the session to see how things are going with actual implementation, and then again toward the end to complete the cycle and lead into the next session again.

As for teacher development, this needs to be determined and agreed upon by the teaching team themselves. Bear in mind that the more teachers are asked to attend program development or teacher training sessions, the less inclined they may be to give up even more time for teacher development. Ensuring all three can happen in one school usually involves some sensitive attention to overall balance.

In all three applications, I have a 90-minute time limit for a session. Anything more becomes tiring and potentially tedious for the teachers. I always gave at least a week’s notice and set them (when possible) for low-maintenance days where teachers may not need to do a lot of planning for their regular classes. I scheduled them before classes rather than after (most of the schools I worked at had afternoon and early evening shifts); never on weekends, Mondays, or Fridays; and I always harassed the school owner to shout the teachers for lunch straight after the session.

  

  

Attendance and compensation

 

So, should attendance at these different sessions be mandatory or voluntary? Should they be paid? These are not easy questions to answer, because teaching conditions and contracts vary from context to context and school to school. If teachers are paid strictly on an hourly teaching basis, being forced to attend any sort of meeting or development session can feel like a serious rip off to them. There are also difficulties when teachers are part-time and may have other scheduled duties to attend to (family, study or other jobs). The opinions and suggestions I express below are grounded in my experience in a context where teachers were mostly employed on full-time contracts and schools made enormous profits from their programs; hence, they may not be as applicable to contexts where the situation is different.  

For me (in the programs I led where training and development actually worked well), I made attendance at teacher training sessions compulsory, had that written into teaching contracts (with reasonably specific information on how often they would occur and at what times), and always ensured that salaried teachers were doing less classes per month than the contract stipulated (with an allocated monthly allowance of hours for lesson preparation and professional development). Part-time teachers (almost always on hourly wages) were asked and paid to attend, but given consideration if they couldn’t due to other commitments. If teacher training is incorporated into teachers’ overall hours and contracted duties and salaries, and focuses on how they are to do their jobs (better) at the school context level, I think it is fair to make attendance at them compulsory.

Program development, on the other hand and in my opinion, should be a voluntary affair. Not all teachers care that deeply about the program or want to influence it. To them, teaching may be just a job involving going into a classroom and teaching learners and that’s that. Alternatively (and more positively) some schools are so well run and already incorporate a lot of ongoing feedback and suggestions from teachers that they already feel confident with the program and don’t feel any pressing needs to go in and starting banging it around the walls. However, if these teachers do attend program development sessions, I would be willing to pay them a small stipend for their involvement and time. After all, they are contributing to a program which may well create more profit (in various mediums) for the school not only now but in the longer run.

As for teacher development, you’ll probably be unsurprised to hear that I think this should be absolutely voluntary. It’s for the teachers and hopefully by the teachers, so everything from scheduling to attendance should be decided by them. Given it may not always have much direct relevance to the school program or overall success of that particular school, I generally avoid paying teachers for teacher development sessions. I believe in this case the reward should be intrinsically motivated rather than financially compensated. Some things I have tried, however, were paying a small fee to whichever teacher (or teachers) hosted a particular session, and even a monetary award for the teacher host to give out as a special reward to whichever teacher (or teachers) they felt helped their session the most. Some school owners were happier to facilitate this through small gifts or movie tickets or lunch/gift vouchers, as a more “from the heart” gesture for teachers’ voluntary efforts to improve themselves and each other (and the spirit of the teaching group in general) – and these were the “payments” that probably felt most appropriate and maintained the right mood for teacher development programs that I was involved with.

  

  

 

In conclusion...

   

However you look at professional development at an institutional level, whether it is through these interconnected prisms of teacher training, program development and teacher development or through some other lens, making it happen can be a big ask. As an academic coordinator, I faced the particularly challenging situation of being in a context where training was either completely absent or applied like a straitjacket, with willy-nilly scheduling, compulsory attendance and no compensation being the norm. To incorporate program development and teacher development in an organised and considerate way, at times I felt like I needed to be a freight train engine covered in silk (admittedly sometimes the silk fell off and the train started crashing through every wall in sight; at other times I forgot to bring the engine and was left standing there with silk and the distinct appearance of being on my way to an obscure fancy dress party).

However, when these three things actually happen and work effectively, the chances of being in a positive, progressive and motivating professional teaching environment increase exponentially. They are worth struggling for, and should be very high up on any serious coordinator’s list of priorities.

   

  

:-D

   

The best Teacher's Guide ever?

Well, in my opinion - definitely not.

The title for this post was chosen, however, because out of the hundreds of in-house teacher's guides I've written, this was the one that earned me the most compliments and thanks from a variety of people involved in a private institute TEFL program in South Korea. That included teachers (both native and non-native) and school owners/management. Several "foreign" (read native speaker) teachers actually approached me to say it was the "best teacher's guide ever." Indirectly there were also compliments from students and their parents, who forked out vast amounts of money and rushed to get themselves on a special waiting list to attend the program to which this teacher's guide applied.

The source of this positive feedback was a tome of a teacher's guide I developed for a private institute's notorious "winter intensive session", that time during the private institute (or "hagwon") year where for four weeks teachers slave to horrendous schedules (up to 10-11 classes a day), learners attend the school for 2-3 hours every weekday, and the school owners rub their hands with glee at the massive profits rolling in (with 600-odd students paying in excess of US$400, do the math and the money involved is staggering for a mere four-week program).

You can read the entire teacher's guide at the link below:

Download Winter Session Teacher's Guide 2007

 

Looking back over that book, I have mixed and wistful feelings about it all. It was first designed in 2005, in the 3 days preparation time I had at the end of a busy fall session to get something ready for a large school and teaching team of about 30 - half of whom were generally pretty new to teaching (some completely new), and some of whom were even local English-studying university students comprising ring-ins for the school to cater to the number of students and classes. It sought (at the time) to fix a number of problems:

1. A horrendous existing intensive program, with four different teachers per class using completely different books - usually selected and reported at the very last minute - that represented no unified course content whatsoever (nor for that matter collaboration across the different teachers);

2. A huge lack of consistency across teachers and classes, to the point that levels became almost irrelevant and for students it was like a lottery to see what sort of overall language instruction you received;

3. A completely fragmented assessment and reporting system on student progress and achievement;

4. Very low morale from teachers, who had to cope with ridiculous teaching schedules and were still expected to create a syllabus, prepare for the different levels and coursebooks, mark and grade work, give feedback, and prepare and apply their own tests;

5. The expectation from parents (and students) that this intensive course would be equal to an entire regular term of coursework, would feature reams of homework, and would hence be worth the asked for price and daily class commitment in hours. But above all, parents and students wanted consistency - the feeling that they would get the same learning opportunities (read here: service) and fair assessment criteria that would allow them to make comparisons with neighbours and earn certain bragging rights (okay, not all parents were like that - only about 80% or so...), no matter which teachers were allocated and no matter how experienced or peculiar they were.

 

Essentially, what I did was remove all of the coursebooks except a core reading series ("Think Alongs" - edited by Roger Farr and produced by Steck-Vaughn). I then developed all of the supplementary workbooks myself, covering vocabulary, listening, writing and speaking - making them all extensions from the content and themes in each level's core reading coursebook. And to explain it all, I wrote the teacher's guide you can download above.

   

I could attempt here to say that teachers liked this program and teacher's guide because it created an integrated approach and organised all of the levels, schedules and tasks in a way that made for more effective and motivating learning. I guess for some of the teachers those things were factors. To be completely honest, however, teachers confessed to liking it because it did all of their preparation and organisation for them. All they had to do was attend a quick teacher's meeting before the session to collect their TGs, teaching schedules and coursebooks, ask a few questions, then roll up for the next four weeks with minimal preparation or take-home work.

   

Did I like the TG? Yes. As academic coordinator, it got hundreds of different people off my back and created a more organised and positive atmosphere in the school at almost every level for four very busy weeks. It gave the learners an integrated approach to the content and coursework. It created happy workers and happy customers. It also minimised the preparation I needed to do before each new intensive session: this approach was used for the remaining two years I was there, and for all I know in the years afterwards as well (most probably with my name removed from the books and all the credit going to the school or some new manager who added a couple of extra things to it). I was actually able to take those three vacation days between sessions and do something with my family for a change.

But as I mentioned above, I remain wistful (or should I say bemused?). Is that what good EFL programs and teacher's guides are all about? Pulling together teachers who can't/won't do that sort of thing on their own? Doing all the preparation for teachers who are handed ridiculous and unreasonable teaching schedules? Creating a factory-like program of such precision that it ensures almost every student works their butt off for four weeks over their winter vacation period and gets almost exactly the same level and style of teaching?

  

In some teaching contexts - South Korea and intensive sessions an obvious prime candidate - I guess the answer would be "yes, that is what good programs and teacher's guide are all about."

   

Interesting old world, TEFL - and more interesting in hindsight when you can stand back and cast your eye over it all without the shaded glasses on...

   

:-D