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.

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.

In Which She Finds A Snake In The Bookstore. Seriously.

On my way out of the office this evening, I quickly stopped by one of the three rooms used for storing books, since I had to drop off a few new copies. The door creaked open reluctantly, but along with it there was another sound I could not place until I saw the agile slither across the floor. The snake and I had scared each other silly, and as he retreated, hissing, into one of the boxes of newly delivered books, I was in awe of the persistence of nature. Granted, the campus is surrounded by wild land, but to venture into such unnatural territory is something he deserves credit for.

What do I do now? Keep quiet and his surprise reappearance could wreak havoc. Mention it and put him in danger. I am seriously considering sneaking in early with a flute tomorrow morning. Could I charm him to an abode that is more suitable for him- and us two-footed folk?

Although this did take place in consensual reality, the symbolism of this creature is not lost on me. My first thoughts were of the Naga snake deity in Hindu mythology, the paradaisical serpent, the Chinese horoscope’s year of the snake (also known as the little dragon; I am a dragon), the mythological ouroboros of alchemy, the caduceus and kundalini…

A treasure-house of serpent symbolism exists. And a messenger to remind me.

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…

The Decision Making Matrix

Since I am in the throes of a major decision, I would like to offer a practical lifeskill that has served me well, but also serves as a great activity for students. In a language class, it works as a top-notch “third-generation task”- that is, a learning task that involves communication in the target language, higher-order thinking skills and personal development (Nunan 2005: 135). The matrix can be used with students in pairs, groups or pyramids, on a prescribed or self-selected topic. Much of the language value lies in the actual process of negotiating meaning while compiling and weighting criteria for decision-making. Take a look how it works.


Making a major life decision (a new job, a home, a pet, a spouse etc.) can be extremely traumatic for anyone as notoriously fickle as me. (I do know I am fickle enough not even to consider a spouse- or even a pet!- in the first place, incidentally.) In my dazed and confused student days, one professor of logic kindly introduced me to the Decision-Making Matrix. It is a foolproof formula for making a rational decision with your head- and you can even build in a vote for your heart. Observe.


Allow me to demonstrate with the major life decision that has been haunting me of late: do I stay in Oman or do I leave for greener (but less lucrative) pastures? The procedure is to draw up a column for each option and a row for each criterion. (In class, students will negotiate these.) To make this even more precise, the criteria can be weighted. Then rate each option according to the criteria scores. In my matrix below, for example, I have rated Oman 20 out of a possible 20 for income, but 0 out of a possible 10 for social and cultural life. India (my wildcard option) is almost the opposite.

Option 1: Oman Option 2: Taiwan Option 3: SAfrica Option 4: Wildcard - India
Income (20) 20 15 10 5
Stability, Career (20) 15 10 10 5
Lifestyle, Time,
Holidays,
Environment(20) 10 10 15 20
Studies (20) 15 18 15 20
Social, Cultural (10) 0 5 10 10
Happiness (10) 2 5 7 10
Total % 62 63 67 70

To make sure that reason doesn’t outweigh emotion, I add an emotional criterion, in this case, happiness. (Since I have already provided for lifestyle, social, cultural and career factors, which already make me happy, I am only weighting happiness at 10.) Before adding up the totals, I also ask myself which option I really wish for. If the instinct is strong enough, it may not even be necessary to do the math! This is a trick I learnt from a dear friend who was always willing to flip a coin, but before unveiling the “heads or tails” would always ask; “What would you like it to be?” We seldom found out how the coin had really landed, following that gut feeling instead.


My decision-making matrix reveals some home truths about my motivations, perceptions and priorities (which appear to be utterly twisted). Rather than discuss them, I hope this will demonstrate how much discussion value students can get out of such an activity.


Best of all, there is always the option of not making a decision. If a change is as good as a holiday, considering your options is almost as good as relocating… and it’s completely risk-free.


Reference: Nunan, D. 2005. Task-Based Language Teaching. Cambridge: CUP.

Love, Duty and the Small Matter of Choice (Or: Masters of Fate, Captains of Souls and Architects of Fortune)

Disclaimer: This entire entry is based on personal opinion and interpretation rather than indisputable facts, and any quoted facts may well be interpreted differently.

Perhaps one of the most profound cultural differences I have experienced over the past years as an expatriate centres around the matter of free will. Although individuals ultimately make up their minds about whether they believe their actions are predetermined or borne of free will (the philosophical debate of determinism/indeterminism), I am convinced that cultural conditioning plays a considerable part. (Whether we actually do have a choice in our opinion is, of course, open to infinite dabate!)

Although it was the “American Dream” of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness that turned free will into a national mantra, even this New World-dictum had its roots in the philosophies that came to full fruition in the Europe of the 1800s. The concept is a hallmark of a broad (though not all-pervasive) stream of Western thought, and is reflected in statements such as Henley’s “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul” and the disputed “Each man is the architect of his own fortune”.

This is not to say that the entire “West” embraces the idea of free choice. The Henley hyperlink above, for instance, leads to a page showing a religious determinist reply to the poet. Even the popular novelist Paolo Coelho, loved by many for his book The Alchemist, implies that although humans make choices, these are woven into destiny- even the so-called mistakes. Generally, though, there is a strong focus on personal responsibility- thus, indeterminism- in cultural products of the West.

Tomorrow it will be eight years to the day that I left for the ‘exotic” East, and I have repeatedly been struck by the leaning in the other direction- determinism- in my host countries. Once again, this is not absolute but rather a general inclination that manifests in the way major life choices are made by (or imposed upon?) individuals: studies, life partners, careers, domestic situation and so forth are frequently chosen by elders, or even the state.

But it is in actually doing the work that one has chosen (or not) that the difference becomes fascinating. Theoretically I am inclined object to determinism because it would seem to kill motivation: if I had no choice in my job and my professional success depended on fickle fate, I personally would make no special effort. But since I have both the conditioning and the will to believe that my actions, words and thoughts are the threads that weave my destiny, I am motivated to do my best- at least under the circumstances. What has surprised me is how a determinist worldview can also push people to do their best for very different reasons, one of which is the rather cumbersome concept of duty. To be perfectly frank, the idea of duty puts my system on instant hibernate. Yet when I have seen truly exemplary initiative and dedication in the ever-mysterious East, the explanation has consistently been: “It is my duty.”

Then again… is that a choice, too?

Crime and Punishment (For They Know Not What They Do)

There is that wonderful staying about the last straw that breaks the camel’s back. Today this camel is examining the most recent straw on its back and wondering if this will finally be the last. Perhaps it will just be yet another straw that makes the camel’s back stronger. There have been so many of those.

That last straw, a tiny little thing. A material object the size of the dinner plate that represents a conflict the size of a galaxy. It is the second time a hubcap is stolen off my car, and although it is simply a practical annoyance, the sense of violation ripped through the very core of me. In a small town like this one, this is no anonymous petty crime and no surreptitious sin.

Religion has been criticised as the opiate of the masses, but I have occasion to wonder if the criticism should not rather fall on the masses themselves, who are so much less harmless when “doped with religion and sex and TV”, as John Lennon so eloquently spat. “Masses” who have not evolved the understanding that a sin against another is a sin against oneself, are perhaps better off inebriated with the fear of a wrathful deity than in their jaded, sober confidence that God cannot see what they do under cover of darkness.

I very specifically set out to dedicate this blog to my studies and teaching, which are inextricably linked. Yet the third link, the shadow of the two, keeps creeping in, uninvited: an environment where chaos and conflict are the only constants. To remain in this country appears to be a sensible move for many reasons: I would have relative stability, a stable income and a fair bit of paid leave while I complete my studies. But in other respects, it would be insane: a toxic work environment where I am at the hub of activity, yet have minimal power, a neighbourhood where I cannot leave my house without being harassed and people have no qualms about vandalising what is mine, and a country where, by virtue of living alone, I will forever be considered sharmouta- a prostitute.

And until I leave this Hades which I endure just for money, that won’t be far from the truth.