Fundamental Beliefs about Learning

I: I believe that a sense of cohesion among students and teacher — the forging of bonds between individuals to create community — is essential for optimal learning, and that it is the teacher’s responsibility to build that.

Consider the classic scenario in grade school classrooms: children uniting against the teacher: whispering, giggling, throwing spitballs and mimicking the instructor behind his or her back. Consider too religious wars and nationalistic conflicts: us against them. For better or worse, I think that we humans need to feel as though we are part of something bigger than us.

I have come to believe that the language classroom is no exception. When we are linked in working toward a common goal — even when (or particularly if) there are challenges along the way — our motivation is stronger. [This is the ‘why’] As part of a community, we share objectives and difficulties. We laugh together at things that people outside the community might not understand. We join each other in struggling when obstacles impede us.

I believe it is the responsibility of the teacher to make sure positive connections and a group identity grow during the duration of the course. There is an additional challenge in multiethnic classrooms, with which I’ve had no experience; but of course, there are additional opportunities there as well.

Class projects are one way to unify a group, wherein everyone has a linked role. But I also think it’s best if community-building exercises, tailored to the environment, serves as a foundation on which the teacher builds the academic material. These may or may not have a direct link to the language material.

I never thought I’d be writing this. It seems so new-agey to me. And while I appreciated some of the icebreaker work we’ve done at SIT, I never saw its value. Partly that’s because we may not have done enough with it in a real enough setting. But in fact, a powerful group bond — hopefully including the teacher — gives students not just a sense of belonging and camaraderie, but of accountability: being a part of a larger whole and being instrumental to its success, as well as to their own success as they move toward their language goals.

THOU: I believe that each student needs to feel as though s/he is a visible and contributing member of the class.

Here is an example: In Beverly’s class, she remembers every student’s name. When they raise their hands, she makes sure that they know they’re visible. When they say something, she extracts from it something constructive, which is sometimes a challenge. And she genuinely listens, responding directly to the point raised, and then weaving that thread into the tapestry of discussion.

In my internship in Mexico, a girl in one of my classes didn’t want to be there. Her parents had forced her to attend. She didn’t understand my accent. Her level of Spanish was significantly below that of the other students. She was the only girl in a small sea of teenaged boys. She wanted to drop the class, but she was coerced to stick with it. At the end of the first two classes, she cried. It was hard for her even to open her mouth to speak. I didn’t follow the school director’s advice just to ignore it. In many ways I involved her gently in the discussions, including and challenging but not pushing her. I praised her when she tried.

While she was still painfully shy and quiet at the end, she had started smiling a lot. She did her homework for each class. I don’t know if that had less to with my heightened sensitivity to her and more to her simply getting accustomed to the class, but I think my attitude of warmth and acceptance and respect did contribute to the progress she made. [I agree :)]

[This brings this belief to life, I can see how you would live out; what is still necessary is to say why; why do you believe it is important for learning?]

IT: The teacher must have — or develop — passion for the subject matter, and must find a way to pass on that passion to the students. And I believe the best way to do that is to make connections between the language content and the students’ real lives.

This belief arises from my experiences both as student and teacher. I have always learned best — even if I were neutral about the subject — from teachers who had fire for what they taught. That fire sparks students’ interest not only by osmosis, but by the effort that the passionate teacher puts into the curriculum development.

I don’t believe that passion alone necessarily cultivates enthusiasm in a student, unless the student was predisposed toward the topic. Certainly there are teachers who love their subject but neither prepare nor think creatively about how to present it. That is, there are many brilliant thinkers who love their subject but are mediocre in the art of transmitting what they know. There are others who are average practitioners of their subject, but their passion makes them masters of teaching it.

Journalism can provide a good example. In US public radio, certain reporters who cover complex and sometimes dense topics — e.g. politics and the natural sciences — have the gift of transforming that material into something scintillating. I’ve noticed four things that they do: they get to know the material so deeply that they can rearrange it into something presentable without compromising accuracy; they translate into informal, accessible language in a casual register; they abundantly use analogy and parable; and they personalize the content to the intended audience: how it relates to the listeners’ own lives.

A good teacher molds the material of their passion into a form that the students will want to see and touch.

That said, it’s important to acknowledge that not every student can become inspired, regardless of the skills of the teacher. I could have the best organic chemistry teacher in the world and I’d still be lost and bored. At the same time, there are ways to engage even people like me. [Yes!]

I: The teacher must be open-minded — able to listen and perceive — and have the capacity to put aside ego. These are very challenging for us humans.

It can be hard to accept and work with new, different, opposing and challenging ideas — and to be able to truly hear them in the first place. Sometimes it is difficult if not impossible to absorb what another person says, because of everything from our preoccupation with unrelated matters to personality differences. It seems equivalent to the difficulty of a native English speaker trying to hear subtle phonological variations in Arabic that our ears simply can’t discern initially, because of our conditioning. If we can’t truly hear someone, how can we respond appropriately to them.

Putting aside ego will likewise be a challenge for me. I think it probably is for everyone.

How to turn off the soundtrack: Do they like me? Am I teaching effectively? Do they appreciate what I’m trying to do? Why don’t they understand me? Am I totally messing up? How am I going to pay my bills this month? Are they bored? Do they know I’m really good at … ?  [You’re right, this is definitely the ego at work. If one is able to do as you say – put it aside – and focus on, be curious about, and interested in the actual learning, then suddenly it’s not there.]

I must try to accept criticism without defensiveness: so much easier to write than to do. I must try not to take too personally those classroom moments in which I feel I’ve crashed and burned. I must reflect, time and again, on why I’m teaching: to help students understand what they need to know, to hold onto a job, to feel admired, or advance some other agenda? Am I building a curriculum more because of my own interests than theirs? Questions like these are best asked regularly throughout a teaching career, and actions taken according on the answers. [Exactly! Isn’t teaching demanding??]

Ginna, this is thoughtful work. I find it interesting that all these beliefs relate to personal development. Keep these in mind as you develop your course.