The Middle of Nowhere Seminar

Today was something of a milestone. It was the first time I made a presentation at an industry event for professionals in education. To be honest, it was probably the first presentation I have made on one and a half decades, so it was good to know I am not completely rusty. Funny thing is, I expected to be a little nervous: since I started teaching seven years ago, my stomach has perennially been in knots before class. Surprisingly, this was remarkably easy. Having an interested audience did help, and they needed no encouragement to participate. I was quite surprised by their attentiveness: audiences in other sessions were quite rowdy, but these seemed riveted (were they in shock?!? I have been known to be quite, er kinetic…?) Of course, it helps when the material is interesting and has potential: my session was about integrating language skills through the arts to address different learning styles. The rest of the event also showed that people really are giving thought to what is happening in their classrooms and taking it on with innovative projects. Even in the middle of nowhere- almost four hours’ drive from the capital, in the rugged mountainous areas.

Not Quite Elementary

Much delayed by all the little melodramas and upheavals in the department, I finally started focus group interviews with my students today. The students really surprised me with their eloquence and quick answers, and capable handling of what can be quite a challenging situation for a lower-intermediate language learner. Although this is not intended as professional data gathering, I will have to mention that students might have been excessively eager to please, which may compromise the accuracy of the data. Still, some very useful insights are coming through, and the size of the group was very bonding. This kind of inquest might be worthwhile, even when there isn’t an assignment at stake.

As to the assignment, I am working on one section at a time by fleshing out the outline with all the relevant references first, then attacking the paperstorm at the keyboard. It is taking considerable discipline to keep writing first and foremost, so that I can later return and make improvements (and cuts!) in a second draft. Right now the objective is simply to keep going during the week, and make improvements over weekends when I have more mental bandwidth. My late registration in the course really compromised my background reading, and I am feeling the effects now. The next modules will be a breeze, with a whole month to read up before even attending the lectures!

Finally contacted all the big hitters at the helm of our MA program, both at Leeds and the local host college. My arguments have been purged of all emotion and distilled to pure and- I hope- compelling- reason. Since it is now 2:17 AM I just hope my judgement can be trusted. Here it is.

I deeply appreciate the fact that you have listened, and continue to listen despite your many other commitments. Indeed, my respect for the department staff continues to grow as I discover more about instructors' thought in books, articles and excavations of the VLE. Your own feedback has been most helpful, and the article by Coleman which you provided on my request (email of 2/1/2008) illuminated "Society and the Language Classroom" (under Coleman's editorship) beautifully. The digital resources offered by the Leeds University website, library and staff are phenomenal and abundant beyond necessity. The resourcefulness and mutual support of co-students are also of inestimable value.

So why am I making such a fuss? I am privileged to have obtained plenty of resources (although several books on our reading list are unavailable) and access to a fast internet connection. My reading is done and my writing has begun. While I deeply appreciate all the kind offers made, I must emphasise that this is not about me. (If it were, I would be silently soldiering away at my assignment armed with what resources I could muster.) The stakes are far higher than that, as I will proceed to explain.

A more complete set of textbooks from the reading list should be supplied to this group at Majan College Library for four compelling reasons which affect all stakeholders.

The first reason why students need access to the recommended books is the structure of the course itself. While other books, journal articles and online resources are invaluable in deepening and updating students' understanding of the core module material, the foundation stones are found in the central collection of textbooks which underpin the compilation of the course. According to the MA TESOL (Oman) handbook (p.31), the course is "relatively lightly taught" and "assumes... a lot of... independent reading." Understanding the fundamentals of the course, then, depends on independent reading of the books that receive cursory mention in lectures. Furthermore, the vital place of the core texts is reflected in the taught postgraduate assessment criteria listed in the handbook (p.35). Both the "Coverage" and "Support" sections refer to "coverage of major sources". This implies the foundational role of "major sources", which may admittedly lie beyond the scope of the recommended readings, but are likely to include at least a viewing of these texts. In short, books on the recommended reading list appear to play a central part, both in the learning and the assessment process. These books are, therefore, vital if students are to understand and produce assignments that do this excellent programme and its tutors justice.

The second is the outcome of this programme. Oman's education system is in serious need of teaching professionals who not only personally identify with the nation but also have deepened, broadened expertise in their field. If this country is to benefit from the postgraduate education of the Omani and other educators in this course, it is imperative that every possible means for the enrichment of their learning be provided. Recommended textbooks are the keystone: a large chunk of it is missing.

The third argument involves the cost of tuition in this course. It struck me that a full-time foreign student at the University of Leeds pays GBP 9700 for a spectrum of modules and access to the multitude of facilities, academic and otherwise, offered by the university. Students in this course have paid the equivalent of GBP 9000 each. The costs of flying faculty, teaching materials and administration considered, the total earnings from 21 students (over GBP 180 000) surely do justify a more complete collection of books from each module's reading list.

Finally, and significantly to every one of us, is the matter of reputation. As has been pointed out, high standards are the pride of both Leeds University and Majan University College. I believe this also holds true for every student in this course, and for the country that is so graciously hosting us. As educators, the students in this course have a significant and lasting effect on our environment. Like pebbles flung into water, our work inevitably creates ever-expanding ripples in our classrooms, organisations, communities and society at large. The quality of these effects will reflect on our value as professionals, but also on the establishments that formed us professionally. The more opportunities we receive to learn, thoroughly, deeply and broadly, the better we are able to represent you.

To sum up, the structure of the course, the societal requirements of future graduates, the expectations set by tuition fees and the reputation of all the stakeholders demand the provision of a more complete set of textbooks to the MA TESOL (Oman) students. The long and the short of it is that with more complete provision of the recommended textbooks, we all win. That, I believe, is worth making a fuss for, and I thank all the staff at both establishments who have patiently heeded my call. I hope I have convinced you that it is a call worth heeding, not on behalf of one rabble rouser, but on behalf of every student, instructor and administrator involved in this promising endeavour.

A Little Epiphany

Yesterday morning was the first time I actually accompanied trainee teachers to a secondary school in Oman to observe lessons being taught. What I saw in the school explained so much of what has been puzzling me in my work and studies.

The teachers we observed professional and polished, the classes ran smoothly and the students were astoundingly enthusiastic. What struck me most in the second class, was that despite the sharp receptiveness, ability and enthusiasm of the students, all that was required of them was one-word answers. “What do you eat for breakfast?” “Banana!” “Milk!” “Bread!” “Dates!”. The students obviously know their stuff and what to know more- why is this golden opportunity to develop and deepen language habits at a formative age missed?

Later asked a colleague about this, and she showed me that this is not, in fact, the procedure prescribed by the books. Although creative teaching is encouraged, certain procedures are required, to ensure that all Omani students reach a standard level when finishing school. Provided this goal is met, there is flexibility. However, many teachers do not successfully identify the objectives of the lessons, and hence do not meet them.

The legacy of this one-word-will-do teaching method is very clear in the language use of Omani tertiary students- and beyond. Even when these language learners are armed with abundant vocabulary, very basic grammar errors continue to crop up in speech and writing. When students self-edit their writing, I repeatedly see that they truly do not see these errors, even though they know the grammar rules governing them. Seeing that students’ language learning capabilities are so frightfully underutilised at an age where they have so much potential explains this phenomenon, and points out how unnecessary it is. What concerns me even more is that so many students develop the habit of not being stretched in their thinking, and it was terrifying to see this process in action.

National education does lay foundations for a nation, and this is one of the great reasons why it has played such an important part in Oman. The quality of those foundations play an inestimable part in the future. How do we ensure quality? This question is at the core of all the debate in education, and has no simple answer.

What I am sure of, though, is that it is not a one-word answer.

The Assignment Evolves

Not all my time over the past week has gone to the relentless pursuit of justice, believe it or not. I still rise with the dawn call to prayer, and head straight to Vivaldi, my (midnight) oil burner, a shot of spiced coffee and the mountain of books surrounding my desk.

Now that my assignment outline has been approved, the not inconsiderable task of writing lies before me. Writing high quantities has never been a problem for me, but writing high-quality, information-rich, sharply defined academic prose is a slightly rusty skill that may need some oiling.

My solution to this is backward mapping, a management technique I was reminded of in my readings. By beginning with the deadline and working backwards, it is possible to plan with more foresight. At least, so the theory goes. Admittedly, my backward maps are probably more realistic than my forward maps. The fact that they feature a weekly day off is their crowning glory.

While the big ideas incubate, I am starting of with some Zen typing: the reference pages. When I was working on my first degree, everything still had to be done on a manual typewriter. Not only did I not have a computer, I often didn’t have electricity either. Getting the references lined up at the eleventh hour was always the very worst past of the nightmare. Now that I am older, wiser, and able to afford both a modest computer and electricity (the gods be praised), I am hoping to prevent any cause for nightmares by starting off with the reference pages, which can be adapted if necessary as the work evolves.

Of course, the strategy may evolve, too.

The Emperor's New Designer Threads

My crusade for justice has begun. I am no longer angry, but I am fiercely clear-headed and dangerously logical.

According to the Vision of Majan University College (http://majancollege.edu.om), it aims to "be a premier University institution providing students with value added Higher Education of International standards in a dynamic environment that fosters knowledge, values and sustainable employment skills." The Mission Statement sets the following targets: "to build a knowledge based learning organization", "strive for excellence in learning, teaching and research", "develop the creative potential of all its staff members" and "equip its students to make effective contributions to society and the economy".


Inspired by these lofty goals in addition to the reputable Leeds programme, I eagerly joined this course, and it was impressive to see that many of the staff I met truly personify this vision and mission. One of my key motivations for choosing this programme over distance learning was the access to resources that would be consistent, not only with the mission and vision of Majan, but also with the tuition fees. (21 students registered for the course hosted by Majan, raising over OMR 140 000, or GBP 180 000.The tuition fee per student is OMR 7000, equivalent to GBP 9000. A full-time foreign residential MA TESOL student at Leeds University pays GBP 9700 and has full access to tuition, resources and all on-campus facilities.) It is disconcerting that, two months into the course, our resources are limited to a collection of twelve books, mostly in single copies, some in duplicate, while any other sources are only available for reference inside the library. This for the princely sum of nine-tenths of residential study. Twelve books.

However, my fundamental concern is not the books: they can be bought, shared, borrowed. Students have been phenomenally resourceful, and as you yourself said, clear, original thought is more important than resources. My fundamental concern is the apparent underlying message that not only is the bare minimum sufficient, but anything more is a bit of a nuisance. The obstacles in the way of our group's students are more than ample, ranging from unpredictable work and family responsibilities, resource problems, mediaeval internet facilities and distance from the library, to language difficulties and a profound aversion to the written word. Additionally, as foreign students and non-native speakers of English, (not to mention being hosted by an oil-rich country) our MA degrees will forever be skeptically scrutinised unless we can shatter the preconceptions against us with sterling performance. Sterling performance may require a bit of reading. Which may, in turn, call for a few books.


The bottom line is that students deserve the opportunity to take more out of this course than a piece of paper in a gilt frame. I am paying for an education, not a degree. As to the current library situation, the BA students are entitled to their books and should receive priority over the MA students for those titles. By the same token, the MA students should be entitled to access the titles from their complete reading list- as a bare minimum- if Majan's vision, mission and the tuition fees are to be accounted for.

I have the greatest appreciation for all those staff who have embodied this vision and enacted this vision, and I trust that the library facilities will be brought in line with these ideals.

OUTRAGE!

“MA STUDENTS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BORROW BOOKS OUTSIDE THEIR CORE READING LIST FROM THE LIBRARY.” This would be outrageous enough, but when the core reading list comprises TWELVE BOOKS, the angels simply weep.

I did not weep. I spat fire when I was told this by the librarians at Majan University College, where the Leeds University MA TESOL program is being hosted (at astronomic costs to the students, I might add). To understand the predicament, it is important to note that there are no libraries in Oman, except for governmental, university and college collections which are, of course, closed to the public. One student kindly arranged permission for the students enrolled in this programme to borrow from the state’s Sultan Qaboos University library, but I have not found anything relevant to my current module there, nor much that is recent. So effectively, it seems that students enrolled in this programme are being prohibited from performing well and, more significantly, from learning.

Before I launch my crusade full force, I will confirm this with the head of the English department at Majan, who will hopefully arrange a polite explanation that this was a misunderstanding. Face-saving is, after all, far more important than the facts on this soil. If the facts are, however, that reading widely is taboo, the implications for foreign students of accredited universities are profound.

I can understand that in some circles higher learning is mainly about the piece of paper in the elaborate gilt frame, the status or the money. For me it is not. If any establishment tries to reduce me to that, there will be war.

The Penultimate Straw

Finally submitted the outline for my assignment to greet my poor tutors first thing on Monday morning. It has been exceedingly difficult to concentrate on my studies while the number of teaching and other duties at work seemed to multiply. During January and February I spent night tossing, turning and, perchance, dreaming of my studies. In March my white nights have been courtesy of work.

I love work. I love to work. In fact, two weeks into a holiday I tend to get unbearably restless, undefined, as if my outlines are blurred. Work defines me. But work, Work, The Work, does not steal my sleep. The barrage of over-and-above my usual beyond-the-call-of-duty workaholic endeavours has just been too much recently. Added to teaching, course development, preparing for presentations and, oh yes, my studies, it left me depleted, and I have been wandering campus like a ghost all week.

But here’s the thing. It wasn’t the last straw. When I adamantly deliberated to withdraw, one colleague was kind. One was compassionate. Another was gentle. Another funny. Another helpful. Another generous. Most were harmless, which is generosity enough. Although our department is not a wonderful team, we are a collection of wonderful individuals.

That makes up for a whole lot of straw.

The Rollercoaster Rides Again

This Language through Arts class is just a rollercoaster ride. Brutal agony, sheer ecstasy, and nary a breath in between. Still a bit depleted from the obligatory overwork health conundrum, I was pleased to present this very active group of students with their long-awaited drama session. We are talking here about a roomful of twenty-one year olds about to graduate, several of them married and a handful pregnant. As per usual, they were all ears for the theory, fiercely scribbling down every word about method acting, imitation versus catharsis, and even a little ad lib about the shadow, the pet topic of their former Lit instructor.

And then we went practical. Just the very most basic relaxation procedure had them bouncing off the walls. That I can still begin to understand, but then we moved on to breath work for voice control- crucial for any teacher- and a group of girls just couldn’t calm themselves down again. Disrupting the procedure and utterly breaking the spell, they just couldn’t or wouldn’t stop erupting into side talk. All along I had been trying to keep the rest of the group focused on their procedure, and when I could finally address the compulsive talkers, I had no kind words left. I very quietly spat fire. This same group of students had delivered poor results in the debating course, leaving me to suspect that their weaker language and reasoning abilities might be behind the clowning around. In that course, they complained that I wouldn’t allow them to “participate” when I called them on their side talking in Arabic. Now they are annoyed again, which is not likely to reduce this kind of “participation”. The theory in the course is very high-level, and this might be a sign that I should provide something lower-level students can still manage. But surely breathing is manageable?!?

My disappointment eased a little when the students went to their role-playing groups. Each group received a scenario with characters far removed from their own personalities: pirates and schoolboys and kings. Many of them really stepped out of themselves to play the parts. I had planned to let small groups perform for each other, but they enjoyed it so much that two groups volunteered to perform for the whole class. They were great, and they had a blast.

So all is not lost. But I am beginning to worry when this roller-coaster goes up, because I know what invariably follows….

Candles at Both Ends

Because I work in a very small town in a developing country with a very conservative culture, there are severe limits on how any woman can while away her empty hours. No surprise, then, that studying is a welcome diversion. A least it doesn’t upset the local community the way going for a walk, driving to the capital or having a cup of tea in a local “coffee shop” invariably does. I can sit at my desk surrounded by the limited collection of books gained by hook or by crook (the twenty-odd MA students in my program are trying to rotate our college library’s course collection of two dozen books around the country between us) without disturbing anyone. For hours and hours and hours. Boredom will never be a problem again: it seems that in there will always be a great deal more that needs to be read, written, analysed or researched.

And when it rains, it pours. Teaching, of course, continues full steam ahead. One course that I teach had to be created from a list of keywords provided by the Ministry and a few completely unrelated books. Course design is right up my alley, but it does take masses of time, effort and accountability… and I would have liked to have it in my job description. But teaching is what I am there for, and it receives first priority.

As to my studies, well, I set high standards for myself, and I am adamant to beat the shortage of resources and the other obstacles in my way with the very best work I am able to deliver. Consider it an experiment: what, exactly, am I capable of? As a child of the developing world, I have never actually had the chance to put my abilities to the test in anything but the very small fishbowls of my fatherland and the two countries where I have worked. None of these are meritocracies, being ruled by laws of loyalty more than achievement, and yet I survived. Now I am in the ocean. What will happen? If only in the name of Science, I should give it my best shot, not?

Meanwhile, the conference season is upon us. Forgetting all about my poster proposal for Oman’s national ELT conference at Sultan Qaboos University in April, I accepted an invitation to address school teachers at their regional convention late in March. As fate would have, it, it was not long before I received an email to confirm that my poster had also been accepted. That’s two speaking engagements before my first assignment is due in May. Granted, some people do two presentations a day, but since these are firsts, I have my work cut out for me.

These are the responsibilities that I accept. To me, it seems a whole lot to handle, and although I am not too crazy about pressure, I can do this for the next two months. But anything else I will simply not stand for. Question now is how do I get cooperation on that?

Dead Ends and Rabbit-Holes

When you go far enough down a dead-end street, there is no turning back. But occasionally there is another way out: a new dimension. A rabbit-hole.

My office-mate’s classes are analyzing Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and he is constantly gushing about the legacy of Lewis Carroll’s masterpiece. He has found several references to Alice’s (mis)adventures in other sciences- unsurprisingly, psychology is foremost among them. The Red Queen Syndrome, for example, has been embraced by feminist psychoanalysis as more women find themselves “running faster and faster just to stay in one place”. (I wholeheartedly concur.) My own favourite, for the moment, is the Cheshire Cat’s answer to Alice when she asks which path to choose: “That depends very much on where you would like to go”. This is a great semester opener for course overviews, semester goal-setting and the like. A wide Cheshire grin on the whiteboard never hurt, either. My colleague remarked that, though many students are grappling with the abstract concepts in the course, all those who play computer games caught onto the rabbit-hole concept immediately: computer game “cheats” and shortcuts are part of their conceptual artillery.

I didn’t quite cheat, but I did come out of a dead end via a miraculous rabbit-hole. Last week I had searched in all directions for the best way to give my Language Through Arts students both theory and practice which they would value, enjoy AND take seriously. I discovered (to my dismay!) that while they are very comfortable with lectures using limited interaction, they do not consider their projects as a serious pursuit. To remedy this, I shuffled the schedule to cover the planning of their short film before they actually start to make the scenery, props and puppets. This was more successful, but still a little hazy. In the next session, though, I delivered my own film’s planning and the first scene of my script. This changed the chemistry completely, and suddenly everyone was hard at work. This week I brought in my growing collection of materials, as well as the scenery, which was received very enthusiastically. More importantly, students started visualising their own films. I have also modified my assessment plan to allow students to submit their planning any time within the next seven weeks: this means they can either take their time, or benefit from early feedback before making the film. It will be very interesting to see what the response will be.

Generally, the mood in these classes has picked up considerably. Because the course is so different from the usual linear academic fodder, the weird vibes may have been confusion more than resistance. When oh when will I learn not to take this kind of thing so personally? Or will that require another rabbit-hole?