A Sense of Plausibility

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.

MindMapping the Next Frontier: An X-Ray of Assignment 2.0

Among the advice on my studies I hear most frequently is “don’t read too much”. Considering how much there is to read, and how much there is to KNOW, even in the little subspecialist niche of TESOL, this seems counter-intuitive. Yet it is valid in the sense that at a certain point the information starts to drown out one’s own ideas, and that sinking feeling of not knowing what it was you actually wanted to say often only hits after the assignment is handed in. Trust me: I know.

Well, this evening I had one of those rare and precious flashes of insight where I knew exactly what I want to say in my next assignment, and how I want to say it. (To perfectly honest, it happened while I was gazing into my fridge. When you live in a desert, the fridge is a place to keep things like printer ink cartridges, vitamins, eye liner- just ask Robert Smith- and fully loaded water pistols. I have been known to follow up fridge-gazing with far more destructive activities than assignment planning, so this is a doubly fortuitous event.)

For the record, the reading I have done has been quite general, and I fully intend to continue reading up on more specific areas of relevance. But my ideas are clear now. That’s the beauty of a MindMap: it can organically grow without any disruption. Although mine may have to do its growing on a new page…