Parker Palmer: The Courage To Teach
I believe that elsewhere in this blog I have a few quotes I’d saved from when I read part of his book this summer, but since I’m probably a different person now than two months ago, I’ll start from scratch.
Lacking background in classroom teaching and having abundant stores of self-doubt, I particularly appreciated his honesty about the difficult aspects of teaching. “When my students and I discover uncharted territory… then teaching is the finest work I know… But at other moments, the classroom is so lifeless or painful or confused — and I am so powerless to do anything about it… the enemy is everywhere: in those students from some alien planet, in that subject I thought I knew…”
He talks about the complexity both of the humans who are his students, and of his subject matter: important to acknowledge.
His main theme, I think, is “We teach who we are.” That is, “The entanglements I experience in the classroom are often no more or less than the convolutions of my inner life.” That attention to the teacher-self is often overlooked in favor of “what” we teach, “how” we teach it and “why.” It is equally important, he says, to ask “who” we are as teachers. In part, that’s because students know right away whether or not “you are real,” and because who you are is reflected in your every movement as teacher.
Another concept I liked his idea of asking his students who have been their good teachers and why. He’s found that there is not a similarity between them in technique, but they all share a “strong sense of personal identity.” Particularly powerful and vivid was his student’s analogy in describing a common characteristic of all her poor teachers: “Their words float somewhere in front of their faces, like the balloon speech in cartoons.”
He goes on to describe how important it is to be yourself and to live your own goals, and not to copy the methods of your mentors.
One of his colleagues talked about her obsession with showing her students how experienced and prepared and knowledgeable she was: all a performance so her students would like her. Why? Fear of being “discovered” as not as smart or strong or whatever as she’d like. I can related to that. I worry a lot about what others think, and want them to like me, though I hope I’m getting better about that.
Just a few last quotations:
“When I follow only the ‘oughts,’ I may find myself doing work that is ethically laudable but not mine to do.”
“I am convinced that some forms of depression, of which I have personal experience, are induced by a long-ignored inner teacher trying desperately to get us to listen by threatening to destroy us.”
“You need only claim the events of your inner life to make yourself yours. When you truly possess all you have been and done… you are fierce with reality.” [Written by Florida Scott-Maxwell in her mid-eighties]
Earl Stevick: A View of the Learner
First of all, I liked the last stanza of the W.H. Auden quote with which he opens the chapter:
Let them [plants and animals] leave language to their lonely betters,
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep,
Words are for those with promises to keep.
One of Stevick’s main premises is that our fear of death — of the body or of the soul — is a key motivator in everything we do, including learning a language. It can cause problems interpersonally: “If what reinforces your self-image conradicts or detracts from mine, then mine is threatened… The preservation of the self-image is the first law of psychological survival.”
He poses an interesting question: “To what extent, and how, are teachers and students natural allies? Natural competitors? Natural enemies?”
One practical issue he discusses about cross-cultural teaching is that characteristics of a good teacher in one setting — in the U.S., perhaps a warm and understanding teacher — may be liabilities in another country where, for example, a strong, assertive leader is expected.
Stevick makes the distinction between external factors of teaching methodology that can hinder learning — “foreignness, shallowness, irrelevance, and the subordinate position of the student” — and internal obstacles, such as self-criticism.
He talks about learners being like turtles, plodding along at a nice slow pace until someone startles them, at which point they withdraw and close up. But learning requires us to have our necks and limbs fully extended.
“A language class is one arena in which a number of private universes intersect one another.” That’s one that Linhong noted.
“A particular language may carry with it an undesirable stereotype of its speakers as snobbish, lazy, dishonest, and so on. To become faithful to this foreign way of speaking would feel like being unfaithful to the group that nourished and supports us.” This was Gift’s favorite.
David Hawkins: I, Thou, It
I just skimmed this article, per her assignment.
In class she described “I, thou and it” as: I am the teacher; I have something to teach. Thou is the learner. It is the subject; how do I teach it?
Hawkins writes, “Without a Thou, there is no I evolving. Without an It there is no content for context.” He refers to It as “the great It, the world.”
He talks about the role of a teacher in the constructive/Vygotskyian terms we’ve been studying in SLA: “The function of a teacher… is to respond diagnostically and helpfully to a child’s behavior, to make what he considers to be an appropriate response, a response which the child needs to complete the process he’s engaged in… If being educated meant no longer needing a teacher… it would mean that you… have learned how the role was played and how to play it for yourself.” Phase three in the Zone of Proximal Development, it appears.
He stresses the importance of knowing your students because you can’t diagnose what they need otherwise, and without that you don’t know how to help them. It is important that the “I”-“Thou” relationship is built on mutual trust, confidence and respect.
Richards & Rogers: Approaches & Methods in Language Teaching (Chapter 1)
This book is well written and clear. Chapter One surveyed the development of the field of language teaching, and here are some of the facets I found interesting and/or important.
“For more than a hundred years, debate and discussion… have often centered on issues such as the role of grammar in the language curriculum, the development of accuracy and fluency in teaching the choice of syllabus frameworks in course design, the role of vocabulary in language learning, teaching productive and receptive skills, learning theories and their application in teaching, memorization and learning, motivating learners, effective learning strategies, techniques for teaching the four skills, ad the role of materials and technology.”
That says it all about the goals of the book.
Methods for the study of classical Latin 500 years ago became the foundation for the first language-teaching approaches from the 17th to 19th centuries. Considering language-learning an intellectual rather than practical exercise, they taught through “rote learning of grammar rules, study of declensions and conjugations, translation, and practice writing sample sentences.”
As schools began to add the study of other languages to their curricula, textbooks followed similar methods. The result, with the focus on rules and written (often irrelevant) language, was that students never learned to communicate in the language. Instead, they translated sentences such as “The cat of my aunt is more treacherous than the dog of your uncle.” This approach came to be known as the Grammar-Translation Method. Reading and writing were the focus; vocabulary selection was based on the reading texts; sentence translation between the two languages was the main exercise; accuracy was emphasized; grammar was taught deductively; the student’s native language was the medium of instruction. This Grammar Translation approach dominated European language study from the 1840s to the 1940s, and is still used here and there these days, though it has no advocates. One major flaw is that it is not based on any theory.
Moving into the mid-18th century, there was increasing contact between language groups, which led to more serious consideration of language learning and brought about the Reform Movement. Rooted in part in the establishment in 1886 of the International Phonetic Association (and the IPA), it is distinguished by: study of the spoken language; phonetic training; conversation; inductive approach to grammar; establishing associations through the target language. Learning centered around the four skills. Also introduced were the ideas of hearing the language first and providing meaningful contexts.
Despite some of its strengths, it never became a widespread method because there were no institutionalized ways (like conferences) to disseminate and discuss and refine the ideas.
The Direct Method looked to L1 acquisition in children for ideas about language learning and teaching. It focused on demonstration and action to convey meaning, an inductive approach to grammar, careful attention to pronunciation and the “direct and spontaneous use of the foreign language in the classroom.”
“These natural learning principles provided the foundation for what came to be known as the Direct Method, which refers to the most widely known of the natural methods.”
Running out of time. By the 1920s, Direct Method had declined. In the US, reading became the goal of most foreign language programs until WWII. People began to look toward larger ideas of “method” on which to base teaching: what should the goals be, how organized, what techniques, what is the nature of language, etc. These questions marked the beginning of the Methods Era.
This in turn led to these assumptions: a method refers to a theoretically consistent set of teaching procedures; approaches and methods will lead to successful learning; quality of teaching improves when these methods are used.
Thus, in the past 60 or so years we’ve been deluged with new methods, some being fly-by-night fads and others more solid — all eventually displaced by the next. What’s significant to us as teachers is that we use these approaches and methods not as prescriptions but as well-used sources from which to draw ideas.
What Have I Learned about Myself?
Really it’s all about my anxiety now: how will I learn what I need to know about teaching English, and how will I — very shy — learn to develop a mindful (if not calm) presence in a classroom situation: with kids? with adults? I feel I have a benefit in my age, since I have a stronger sense of self than I used to; but how will that shine in the classroom?
What Did I Learn about Myself as Learner and Teacher
I’m not alone. Not alone in comparing myself unfavorably to other learners, or in having doubts about my capacity to meet the needs of learners.
I didn’t learn more about myself than that from these readings, except that I think it’s important to spend some serious time chronicling for myself the array of experiences I’ve had with past teachers — what helped, what hindered. Some of it is irrelevant in this era, thankfully. For example, I don’t have to think, “Well, I didn’t like when Mr. Greisinger banged someone’s head against the wall, so maybe I won’t do that.”
And it’s worth exploring more deeply than I have time for now, with the vastness of this assignment, ways in which I can hold onto a sense of self under duress. How I can keep control without controlling. How to handle adversity and rebellion. All that stuff.