As English teaching gained increasing prominence in the late 20th century, the focus shifted from the search for the best teaching method to a deeper evaluation. The quasi-scientific obsession with method gradually began to give way to the voice of common sense, if not reason. It was finally acknowledged that the appropriateness- and hence the success- of any teaching method depends upon the context in which it is applied.
A thoughtful analysis- and a conclusion I personally find extremely relevant- is offered by N.S. Prabhu in his article There is no Best Method- Why? (1990). This was a true lightbulb article for me, and while I wished I had had earlier access to it, I also value it more because I had to draw similar conclusions for myself, and only then was I given the luxury of having my vague, fluffy ideas formulated in Prabhu’s sleek, streamlined words. (A little adventure of my own in discovery learning, which I so often foist upon my unsuspecting students.)
Prabhu’s conclusion is that while there is no ideal method, teachers need a sense of plausibility regarding the methodologies they use. In plain language, they need to believe in what they are doing. This faith can be seated in one specific method, but is more likely to be a secret recipe of received wisdom, personal experience and experiment.
In terms of professional development, the idea of plausibility also encourages teachers to continue their quest, never resting on laurels and never considering the race to be already run. The continuing enquiry, in my humble opinion, is an essential part of that very sense of plausibility. This is related to Hubermann’s finding (1993, In Tsui 2007) that teachers who continue to “tinker” within their own classrooms are more satisfied than those who take on hierarchical battles. (Hence it is especially important to me, since the inevitable defeats on the hierarchical battlefield have been bruising my faith recently.)
When it comes to the training of young teachers, which is an important part of what I am (by sheer accident) doing at the moment, this idea strikes me as invaluable. Every method is another colour in a teacher trainee’s paintbox (see Larsen-Freeman 2001), but they already have enough of those. I want to discover, with them, what can actually be done with those colours.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Work, Study and Where the Twain Shall Meet
In the words every child of the eighties remembers from The A-Team, I love it when a plan comes together.
When I started my masters’ studies, the relevance of what I was learning seemed extremely remote to my actual day-to-day work. As my grasp of the field has grown over time, I have come around to seeing how this growing knowledge benefits my teaching. While I am opposed to academic snobbery, especially when it comes to teaching English, the depth and scope of the strengthening theory that underlies my every lesson is proving invaluable. The question of what to do with my students if there is time left has transformed into a new question: how do I best use my time in class and give students the opportunity to develop more outside the class?
What my studies did not seem to cater for, however, is the growing responsibilities of my job. The primary focus of the course thus far has been from the teacher’s perspective. This would have been fine, except that my responsibilities have recently been extended to overseeing other teachers, students and courses within a new academic programme. If the “Peter Principle” applies, well, I have risen to my highest level of incompetence, and boy, am I feeling it. My modest studies simply do not cover what I need to know. And need to know fast.
In a former post I mentioned the idea of being the master of one’s fate, and I thought I’d give it a go. My current assignment was set to cover a week’s worth of lesson plans for one class, with a theoretical justification. While this is valid and valuable, I am juggling lesson plans across the curriculum at work. In a flash of inspiration flared by the midnight oil, I decided to contact my tutors for permission to use the cross-curricular lesson plans I have been drafting at work in the assignment. The first tutor had no objections, and I felt quite optimistic. Today I received a response from the second tutor: he actually endorsed the adaptation to my actual practical needs. Positive feedback AND I get to kill two birds with one stone: my work is actually feeding my studies and vice versa.
I love it when a plan comes together.
When I started my masters’ studies, the relevance of what I was learning seemed extremely remote to my actual day-to-day work. As my grasp of the field has grown over time, I have come around to seeing how this growing knowledge benefits my teaching. While I am opposed to academic snobbery, especially when it comes to teaching English, the depth and scope of the strengthening theory that underlies my every lesson is proving invaluable. The question of what to do with my students if there is time left has transformed into a new question: how do I best use my time in class and give students the opportunity to develop more outside the class?
What my studies did not seem to cater for, however, is the growing responsibilities of my job. The primary focus of the course thus far has been from the teacher’s perspective. This would have been fine, except that my responsibilities have recently been extended to overseeing other teachers, students and courses within a new academic programme. If the “Peter Principle” applies, well, I have risen to my highest level of incompetence, and boy, am I feeling it. My modest studies simply do not cover what I need to know. And need to know fast.
In a former post I mentioned the idea of being the master of one’s fate, and I thought I’d give it a go. My current assignment was set to cover a week’s worth of lesson plans for one class, with a theoretical justification. While this is valid and valuable, I am juggling lesson plans across the curriculum at work. In a flash of inspiration flared by the midnight oil, I decided to contact my tutors for permission to use the cross-curricular lesson plans I have been drafting at work in the assignment. The first tutor had no objections, and I felt quite optimistic. Today I received a response from the second tutor: he actually endorsed the adaptation to my actual practical needs. Positive feedback AND I get to kill two birds with one stone: my work is actually feeding my studies and vice versa.
I love it when a plan comes together.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A Meeting of Minds. Great Ones.
While the prospect of a meeting seldom inspires confidence, this week I attended a rare specimen of meeting where there was not only universal participation, but also agreement and, I dare say, results.
The many concerns of the Oman General Foundation Programme stakeholders were honestly discussed and boldly confronted at a two-day meeting this Tuesday and Wednesday. Programme coordinators, heads of department, the programme director and deputy were all present for a session to plan the year ahead- and those to come.
Meeting other programme coordinators was a revelation. What struck me most was the remarkable effort of these heroes in the face of undeniable challenges. The fact that we all managed to agree came almost as a shock to me! Perhaps the fact that we all share a common interest far larger than our egos was a factor. The cherry on top was an agreement to collaborate voluntarily on materials and assessment development. This means we will all contribute some resources, lightening the load on all of us.
This was a promising experience. And a heartening one. When we come down from this lofty mountain, back at work next week, we are going to need all the heart we can get.
The many concerns of the Oman General Foundation Programme stakeholders were honestly discussed and boldly confronted at a two-day meeting this Tuesday and Wednesday. Programme coordinators, heads of department, the programme director and deputy were all present for a session to plan the year ahead- and those to come.
Meeting other programme coordinators was a revelation. What struck me most was the remarkable effort of these heroes in the face of undeniable challenges. The fact that we all managed to agree came almost as a shock to me! Perhaps the fact that we all share a common interest far larger than our egos was a factor. The cherry on top was an agreement to collaborate voluntarily on materials and assessment development. This means we will all contribute some resources, lightening the load on all of us.
This was a promising experience. And a heartening one. When we come down from this lofty mountain, back at work next week, we are going to need all the heart we can get.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Answered Prayers
The English teaching industry suffers from a severe identity crisis. In my first English teaching incarnation in Taiwan, it was an environment filled with fresh-faced young adventurers. On this second incarnation in Oman it has, until now, been one mostly of academics slightly disillusioned to be language teachers. These experiences in just two of the environments where English is taught internationally demonstrate the professional schizophrenia of my current vocation.
But change is afoot, both in the industry and in my workplace. Within the industry there is a gradual professionalization process at work, both through experiential and academic developments in the field, creating a fusion of informed theory and passionate practice. Within my workplace, the dry and dusty academic approach has been closed in on year by year by more eager, hands-on teachers. This past week, the pillars of the old guard were officially toppled.
Our English department, which had grown from a dozen to thirty teachers in the past three years, has had to expand to fifty-three this year to meet the demand for English instruction. The arrival of so many new people has completely changed the chemistry of the department- all that within five days of their arrival. Where the response to additional work had been a grumble before, it has suddenly transformed into eager acceptance. On this fifth day of what can only be a new era, newcomers actually found things to do that would lighten the load of the head of department, improve the functioning of the department and generally make our work lives better. All this despite the obvious “challenges” (Oprahspeak for massive problems) that cannot be concealed within the department.
Two weeks ago I was job-hunting, ready to leave the country. Now I am bubbling over with excitement to see what this new era will bring.
But change is afoot, both in the industry and in my workplace. Within the industry there is a gradual professionalization process at work, both through experiential and academic developments in the field, creating a fusion of informed theory and passionate practice. Within my workplace, the dry and dusty academic approach has been closed in on year by year by more eager, hands-on teachers. This past week, the pillars of the old guard were officially toppled.
Our English department, which had grown from a dozen to thirty teachers in the past three years, has had to expand to fifty-three this year to meet the demand for English instruction. The arrival of so many new people has completely changed the chemistry of the department- all that within five days of their arrival. Where the response to additional work had been a grumble before, it has suddenly transformed into eager acceptance. On this fifth day of what can only be a new era, newcomers actually found things to do that would lighten the load of the head of department, improve the functioning of the department and generally make our work lives better. All this despite the obvious “challenges” (Oprahspeak for massive problems) that cannot be concealed within the department.
Two weeks ago I was job-hunting, ready to leave the country. Now I am bubbling over with excitement to see what this new era will bring.
Monday, September 1, 2008
People Power
I am all for challenge. In the past I have blogged a few times about what seeemed, each time, the most challenging event of my (very modest) working life. The fact that I can add yet another entry claiming so is something I both thrilled and daunted with. They just keep getting bigger. Fast. (My biggest ever yesterday was an introductory speech at the new students’ welcoming ceremony. My biggest today was overseeing the placement test for new students.)
A recent entry explained my acceptance of a position as coordinator of a new flagship programme at Rustaq College. The job came my way, mainly because nobody wants it, and because I am remarkably good at organizing papers and other rectangular objects. People, however, are not rectangular, and dealing with them has always been difficult for me- in a small, unsociable and downright weird family social skills are just not one of the things you learn, and I still feel I have a deficit. Thing is, being good with papers is just not enough. The quest for me this past week has been balancing the people with the papers. Sometimes this has involved seeming diversions in order to maintain a connection with people, even if it means I will have to work considerably overtime on my beloved papers that always behave exactly the way I want them to, never argue, and are always present and punctual. Neglecting the people is a recipe for disaster, and at a very deep level I believe I am here to serve.
The balance is important when the quality of your work affects other people. I have worked in industries where the work is with papers and words. When you work hard there, it is for yourself. When a teacher works hard, it is for students. But now I work hard, harder than I ever have before, teetering over the precipice of this peoplework thing that scares me stiff, because a dozen people depend on me and 150 students will depend upon them. One might even argue that the future of the nation, and even the planet, depends on them. The brutal truth is that when any job becomes too much, we do only what is necessary. But it is how we define what is necessary that is the true test of our endeavours.
Then there is the undeniable fact that no organization is really governed from the “top”: if things are to work and develop to expanding potential, the initiative has to come from grass-roots level. In education, there is the concept of the autonomous learner that guides many of the best teachers. Is it not possible to set in place an infrastructure that fosters autonomous diligence, development and drive in the workplace?
My line, in this position, is that this programme is a great initiative in a great organization. In objective terms, this may be a blatant lie. But in terms of potential, it is completely true. And as I look at what is suddenly happening in our department with the arrival of 26 new staff members overhauling our workplace chemistry, there is a hint of the possibility that this lie will beget truth.
Today, as the placement tests and their time-crunched marking went off without a hitch, I saw cooperation in this department that is unrivalled by anything I have come across here before. It may be the chemistry of new brooms sweeping cleanest, yes. It may be the effects of a long summer holiday. It may be reasonably solid organization, all or none of the above. One thing is certain: although I have a responsibility to fulfil, it does not come down to one person: it comes down to every single person.
A recent entry explained my acceptance of a position as coordinator of a new flagship programme at Rustaq College. The job came my way, mainly because nobody wants it, and because I am remarkably good at organizing papers and other rectangular objects. People, however, are not rectangular, and dealing with them has always been difficult for me- in a small, unsociable and downright weird family social skills are just not one of the things you learn, and I still feel I have a deficit. Thing is, being good with papers is just not enough. The quest for me this past week has been balancing the people with the papers. Sometimes this has involved seeming diversions in order to maintain a connection with people, even if it means I will have to work considerably overtime on my beloved papers that always behave exactly the way I want them to, never argue, and are always present and punctual. Neglecting the people is a recipe for disaster, and at a very deep level I believe I am here to serve.
The balance is important when the quality of your work affects other people. I have worked in industries where the work is with papers and words. When you work hard there, it is for yourself. When a teacher works hard, it is for students. But now I work hard, harder than I ever have before, teetering over the precipice of this peoplework thing that scares me stiff, because a dozen people depend on me and 150 students will depend upon them. One might even argue that the future of the nation, and even the planet, depends on them. The brutal truth is that when any job becomes too much, we do only what is necessary. But it is how we define what is necessary that is the true test of our endeavours.
Then there is the undeniable fact that no organization is really governed from the “top”: if things are to work and develop to expanding potential, the initiative has to come from grass-roots level. In education, there is the concept of the autonomous learner that guides many of the best teachers. Is it not possible to set in place an infrastructure that fosters autonomous diligence, development and drive in the workplace?
My line, in this position, is that this programme is a great initiative in a great organization. In objective terms, this may be a blatant lie. But in terms of potential, it is completely true. And as I look at what is suddenly happening in our department with the arrival of 26 new staff members overhauling our workplace chemistry, there is a hint of the possibility that this lie will beget truth.
Today, as the placement tests and their time-crunched marking went off without a hitch, I saw cooperation in this department that is unrivalled by anything I have come across here before. It may be the chemistry of new brooms sweeping cleanest, yes. It may be the effects of a long summer holiday. It may be reasonably solid organization, all or none of the above. One thing is certain: although I have a responsibility to fulfil, it does not come down to one person: it comes down to every single person.
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