THE MEASURE OF SUCCESS IN LANGUAGE LEARNING

As the end of this semester rapidly draws near, I am delighted at the strides my students have taken. Yet I wonder how their triumphs will show up on the ruthless radar of assessment.

When I first met these students, they needed an interpreter to find out when and where their first classes would be. A month ago they rather actively participated in videoed interviews where they had to introduce themselves and talk about pictures they were shown. They show up for every lesson, doing their part, asking questions when they need guidance. They grasp every opportunity to apply expressions they have learnt, spontaneously and in context. I have never been as grateful for a sneeze in class as when the formerly most reluctant student piped up “Bless you!” without missing a beat.

My brave soldiers have come a long way in the eleven short weeks that we have worked together. All of them passed the midterm exam safely. And yet it is not certain that the final, external examination will do them justice. After all their efforts – and, yes, my own as well – the achievement is clear to see. But will it show up in the finals? I have to hope and pray that it does. It is extremely important that they see evidence that hard work and passion pay dividends. While it already has, my goal for the coming weeks is to ensure that both my students and the powers that be see what they have accomplished.

Failure is not an option. Mostly because they have succeeded. We just need to prove it.

IT TAKES A VILLAGE. A GLOBAL ONE.

It has been a gruelling week of teaching and studies and, to top it all off, life. Yet it has been immensely inspiring to see gradual progress among my small group of miracle students. It is now week 6 of the semester, and where five weeks ago they were using an interpreter for the most basic things, all the students are now actively involved in each activity, they are showing a healthy grasp of the material and, lo! they are even joking in English. While these results hinge largely around grace, I am very well aware that this would never have happened in a class of normal size. However, there may be lessons to be learnt here. The lessons may even apply to larger classes.

A number of pressing obligations have descended this week, as they often do, all at once. I am just infinitely grateful to have some solid ground to stand on: the support of my students, co-workers, and dear dear friends. But I am also especially grateful for online networks that give support and encouragement and knowledge and all those wonderful ideas.

It does take a village. Mine is global.

The Global Village Idiot

THE ENGLISH ACTION NETWORK

The overwhelming majority of male students in our General Foundation Programme (GFP) have not reached the threshold language level where they can benefit from the twenty hours of English instruction they receive each week. Because the female students are coping, instructors are forced to try to educate whole classes at divergent levels. The result is that the stronger students are under-stimulated and bored while the students at false beginner level are confused at best and apathetic at worst. And, yes, bored.

The wonderful teachers I work with on these challenging groups have been devising inventive ways to deal with the problem. Some solutions we have implemented between us include rich supplementation, additional and authentic materials, flashcards, tutorial sessions and the use of class blogs in addition to games and activities. In discussion with some of the teachers, we also found a time slot where all the guys can meet for additional instruction in language learning strategies and English practice.

I was not expecting the best turnout, and was surprised when all the male students save one – who had excused himself in advance for a doctor’s appointment – showed up. Not only that, but for a raucous gang of young adults with low English levels they were astoundingly cooperative.

The highlight of the class was sold as a traditional drumming session – a favourite pastime in these parts – which insidiously served as the basis for a self-introduction chant. What stunned me most was that the most intricate drumming came from a student who NEVER speaks any English whatsoever, and actually delivered the chant flawlessly over his breathtaking rhythm solo. Note: Grammar textbooks make great drums!

I am hoping they will also get involved in the social networking site I am setting up especially for them. This may get a bit complicated since I simply can’t moderate everything for accuracy, but I still believe it can open a door for them.

It is deeply moving to see that moment when a student sees the light. It is not a moment that is for any teacher to claim or keep, but it is one that we can continue to work for. Even if we ourselves may not be around to see that lightbulb flash on.

NEW BEGINNINGS FOR FALSE BEGINNERS

Although this is a teacher-research blog, there hasn’t been all that much research to report on so far. But as the time to do my critical study is approaching, my awareness is moving in that direction. My new course is a prime candidate for research, and today’s first class was a little breath of serendipitous grace.

This semester I am scheduled to teach 11 hours of Reading and Writing to the only three students in our college who failed their first semester in the Foundation Programme. Thanks to discussions with my wonderful colleagues, allies and friends, some very exciting ideas have emerged. I am also considering compiling the activities that are effective in getting these students motivated and helping them learn as part of my critical study. Maybe…

The students, however, have been pursuing me all over campus for days to persuade me to raise their marks so that they can stay with their group- with the use of an interpreter, since they can’t even express this idea in English. Clearly, raising their marks will not help them, but a healthy mix of empathy, discipline and creativity just might. I have arranged that they can attend any classes they wish with their former classmates, while their classmates can attend certain of their sessions, which will be dedicated specifically to language learning strategies.

The miracle happened today, when only one student, Ayman, showed up long after I had given up on seeing any students. Ayman’s lone and late arrival shook me completely out of “teaching mode”, and into genuine interaction, which involved uncovering the language for choosing and requesting a fruit juice to drink using the bilingual labels on three bottles of juice. Although like all Omani students, Ayman has studied English for over a decade, some interesting features of his language showed up:

1. His vocabulary and collocation repertoire is extremely limited.
2. He does not understand the connection between sounds and symbols (letters), and has no grasp of the short vowel sounds. This has drastic implications for his spelling.
3. He writes letters using the movements he would in Arabic, starting from the lower left.

I handed Ayman the student “lucky dip”: a folder containing a pen, pencil, post-it booklet, notebook and portfolio. Some time after he worked out and wrote the words on the whiteboard and we practiced the pronunciation and request collocations, he wrote these down in the notebook, which students will also keep as language learning scrapbook journals. The first thing written in the book was the semester, week, day, and date with a basic entry starting “Today I feel…”. Although I modelled this exercise, he could not find the basic words happy, sad, angry, scared to complete his sentence or put together the reason why. After some cajoling he gradually built up and wrote down the full sentence, which he then read back to me. He also asked the words for certain meanings, like “a little” and “a lot”.

We also set up contact groups on our mobile phones and sent a text message to the absent students. One of them even replied!

Towards the end of the lesson, two senior female students dropped in to see what was going on in the classroom. Ayman had a chance to offer them some juice, practicing his new knowledge in a practical way. I was stunned to see that the lesson time was over, which is how the expressions “Time flies” and “Time flies when you’re having fun” landed on the whiteboard.

Where a day ago Ayman was refusing this course, this non-lesson may have been one of the first chances he has had to use English for an actual purpose. All that because a “lesson” was out of the question.

There will obviously be considerable ground to cover beyond today’s practical nuts-and-bolts, and it won’t always be this effortless. But a glimmer of hope is a precious, precious thing and deserves to be cherished.

The photo is of the whiteboard at the end of the session. Vocabulary is on the left, writing practice in the middle and collocations on the right.