WHAT IS REALLY IMPORTANT IN EDUCATION – THE SEQUEL

In the past post I blogged about a vital aspect of education outside the classroom: extracurricular activities. This post looks at a further key component of successful education: developing teachers.

Like most TESOL teachers abroad, I stumbled onto and into the profession (a reason, indeed, to question the relevance of that word?) without much prior training. Although I have been lucky enough to gather a growing collection of knowledge in the field, I am aware that professional development is seldom a high enough priority in TESOL, despite the fact that so many migrant English teachers have little training. This keeps TESOL practitioners in a rut, and limits the basic level of our performance. In short, we often have a bad name, and there are often few grounds to defend ourselves on. Staff development is, however, a two-way street: professionals are responsible for their own development, but employers are most certainly accountable for supporting this and, where possible, providing opportunities.

In something of a surprise move, our staff were presented with a great PD opportunity yesterday. A ministerial arrangement with the AMIDEAST organization allowed us to host a workshop by Dr Liz England of Shenandoah University (US). It was astonishing to see how hungry our teachers were for a chance like this. They all gained new insights – often from themselves and each other – and left with renewed faith in each other, restored hope and the vim to tackle the remaining half of the semester.

This led me to a great many questions regarding my own role. The position as coordinator is one that has no job description as yet, and until yesterday it seemed to me like an administrative function, which is what is ostensibly required from above and below. Yet the greater investment of my time in this job has been in setting up systems that will allow teachers to connect with each other, self-train and hopefully inspire them. What makes the work meaningful for me is not administration but leadership. Until yesterday I was questioning my own legitimacy in this focus – at the workshop I suddenly felt that it has not been great enough.

Among to the many ideas that struck me about the workshop (even though I could only attend short segments), this new questioning of my role is perhaps the most important, especially as I prepare to leave this employer. I would like to leave with a sufficient handover period, all my things in order, and not a burnt bridge in sight. But there is more than that: I would like to see what can be done with the opportunity I am presented, though I never asked for it.

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.

Small Steps and Giant Leaps (Or: I am Not a Potted Plant)

Two great statements come to mind when I think of steps. No. Three.

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” – Chinese proverb

“One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” – Neil Armstrong

“Make your stumbling block your stepping stone.”- Motivational catchphrase/ cliché

Yesterday I took a step that may prove incredibly foolish or incredibly wise in the perpetual casino that is the scheme of things. I agreed to bite off far more than I can chew, evacuate my comfort zone and boldly go where I had certainly never contemplated going before. I accepted a proposal to coordinate the English foundation year programme for the college’s brand new faculty of business. There is no monetary compensation. I will still have a full teaching load. This is uncharted territory. The parallel programme in other national colleges has been fraught with frustrations. Students, whose studies and living expenses are funded by the state, are notoriously unmotivated and not academically inclined. Most of the teachers will be new to the college- and the cultural enigma of the Arabian Gulf.

So am I OUT of my friggin’ TREE?

Quite possibly. This is guaranteed to be the toughest thing I have done in my life. Ever. And for the next year, there will be no turning back.

So why’dya do it?

Comfort zones are all good and well, but I am not a potted plant. My work environment offers very few opportunities for personal and/or professional growth, and though my studies are an important step, MAs in English teaching are not particularly rare flowers. The experience is reward in itself- and the better I do the job, the more rewarding.

And that brings me to the point that probably won’t show up on a CV. Education in Oman has been developing phenomenally, but it has been a tumultuous process fraught by pendulum swings in policy, frustrated students banging their heads against brick walls and frustrated teachers who take the money and run after one contract. In a bureaucracy, there will always be mysterious forces beyond one’s control. But I think- I think- I can take the reins of those few things that will be within my control and let the teachers and students get on with what they are there for. I can help them see that they are allies, not enemies. I can put logic and simplicity to the test in a workplace that has been torn apart by their opposites. And hey, I can let this terrifying cup pass my colleagues by if I dare to drink it for them. Being the boss holds no charm for me. But serving people does. That, I know, I can do.

(And I am writing this partially because I know there will be days when I wonder whatever in the world I could possibly have been thinking. So I’m bookmarking this page to help me remember. )