Wake up, teacher.

It’s happening.

and it’s happening now – there’s no future perfection to wait for. All there is, and all there ever will be, is here and now.

I used to think the real aim of professional development was to wake up the ideal future teaching self that was sleeping inside me. One day, by a process of trial and error, I would allow it to thrive and blossom. I used to think that the present was only a preparation for the future, for the Real Teacher Me that would come later.

One day, perhaps. But not now, not yet.

In some way, it was true. The present moment was, and always should be, seen as a possibility to open up future possibilities, by learning, preparing, trying things out.

However, what I then became to realise was that the ideal teacher self wasn’t something to wait for, nor was it something to save until it was ready.

It was, always has been, there - available in each present moment I lived through.

The present moment is the only real opportunity to be as perfect, as ideal, as we possibly can.  There’s no need to wait, no need to hold back for fear of failure. Imperfection is as natural and beautiful in the ideal as it is in a da Vinci painting.

Professional development and perfection are happening right now, hand in hand. There is no universal, one-size-fits all, Ideal Teacher that we should strive to become, and no blueprint for perfection.

By reflecting, observing, learning, contemplating, experiencing, imagining new possibilities, creating, enjoying and doing one’s best, we can be the best we can now.

Professional development is about obtaining, owning, and personalising skills. It’s about learning to use them as only you, I, or each and every other person would use them, each in our own, special way.

Professional development is about opening up to the possibility of being ideal – right now.

Turning wishes into goals: from failure to gold.

“A goal without a plan is only a wish.”

From the first moment I read this quote, I knew it hit home very accurately and beautifully. It articulates the simple truth behind success and failure and touches on something profoundly true about language learning and why some learners fail, and fail to feel they have made any real progress, no matter how hard they try.

I’ve been pondering the problem of adult False Beginners and how to help them. Why they often feel dissatisfied with their progress or unable to penetrate the invisible glass ceiling hampering their efforts.

What the quote so very elegantly expresses is that the essence of making progress in language learning lies in making a shift from a mere wish into a goal.

wish n.

1. A desire, longing, or strong inclination for a specific thing.

2. An expression of a desire, longing, or strong inclination.

3. Something desired or longed for.

 

goal n.

1. The purpose toward which an endeavor is directed. An objective.

2.The finish line of a race; a specified structure or zone into or over which players endeavor to advance a ball or puck; the score awarded for such an act.

3. Linguistics - a noun or noun phrase referring to the place to which something moves.

Making the shift from a wish into a goal is key – while the former is passive, an expression of a hope, the latter is active, dynamic, involves development, directed effort, as well as failing and trying again.

I may wish to be in Paris now, but no matter how hard I wish I was in Paris, if a wish stays a wish, I will stay where I am, typing away at my laptop (and I am not in Paris). I may wish to be able to speak a foreign language (Chinese, for example), but no matter how hard I wish I could speak it, if a wish stays a wish, nothing will change and I won’t know a word of it.

This is where the teacher comes in – by helping the learner become aware of the processes and challenges, as well as rewards and landmarks on the way towards achieving their realistic goal. A teacher can help in turning the sense of failure into motivation, a desire to move on, by planning out a practical, realistic and tailor-made set of objectives which the learner may use to keep track of where and how successful they are and where they are headed.

This is especially relevant in situations where a learner has been trying – but failing – several times, becoming the dreaded False Beginner, carrying the weight of past failures on their shoulder, making any new efforts seem impossible or futile. It can be expressed in attitudes like this:

“I’m hopeless. I’ll never learn the language well. There are so many exceptions and rules. It’s too difficult.”

“I want to speak, but I make stupid mistakes, no matter how much I learn. I’m embarrassed and frustrated. I give up.”

“I can understand, but I’m too embarrassed to speak. I can’t remember the right word or I forget new words too quickly. Everything just bounces off me.”

The more I reflect on why some of my adult learners fail, the more I reailise that the problem often lied in my inability to establish a solid sense of direction and achievement throughout the whole process of learning. My failure to set specific, realistic objectives and landmarks on the way towards the desired destination.

A learner might have a vague idea what they want (or wish) to achieve, but no idea about which routes to take, how long it’s going to take them, and so on. They even might be making gradual improvement, but they simply might not be aware of it, having unrealistic expectations, having no real sense of measuring and relying on their present abilities, or lacking sense of the whole. They might feel overwhelmed, taking mistakes as proof of inadequacy and, in spite of the hours, the effort, and the progress, they might feel they are getting nowhere.

When someone comes to me with a wish to improve their foreign language skills, they are usually motivated, looking forward to the learning process and, most importantly, looking forward to achieving measurable results. This is where their initial motivation comes from – a strong wish to improve – and there’s usually lots of it.

However, abundant motivation and a very strong wish to improve are just the beginning. Staying motivated is the real challenge and it’s up to the teacher to pick it up from there and turn the wish and motivation into a success.

I decided on these steps with my adult learners:

1. Do a Needs Analysis

The learner will get a sense of where they are and what they want.

NOTE: These thoughts were the reason why I suggested the #ELTchat topic Your experience using needs analysis with adult learners in EFL: The ifs, whys and hows. I was thrilled to see the topic got your interest and most votes, although I was unable to join the rest of #ELTchatters on the actual chat itself. There’s a fabulous summary by Sue Annan @SueAnnan on her blog here .

2. Help the learner formulate specific main goals

Not more than a couple of sentences. The big picture. E.g. What would you like to have achieved by the end of our course?

3. Draw up a more detailed road map and, if agreed, a time plan

Draw up a tailor made road map towards the main goal, use the information from Needs Analysis and help the learner decide very specifically on the objectives along the way, and how you’re both going to check on the progress. This is the birth of your lesson plans, if your learner, or you, prefer to work in this way. Or, do the D-word (nudge nudge, wink wink).

4. Have classes 

Planning the content of the lessons is akin to making a tailor-made suit. You may use a one-size-fits-all coursebook, or not – in any case, make an intuitive decision as to what will suit your learner and you best. There’s no need to follow a routine or copy what other people do. Your heart and mind will tell you what’s best. You have a lot of experience to build on!

This is a road plan leading the student through the whole journey towards reaching the desired goal and, very soon into the process, you may help them navigate their own way towards it, so that they can do so independently and permanently, on their own.

5. Reflect on the progress

Take stock. Make sure the learner is aware of how they are improving, by any possible means – tests, reflection, teacher feedback, etc. Assess where we have moved on the road towards the main goal, make sure the learner knows what is behind us and what lies ahead.

Magic moment #1: Morning.

Early morning sets the tone for the whole day.

Not necessarily changing what we do, but how we do it. It can have great influence on the results of our personal activities and activities in the classroom.

Early mornings are a unique opportunity for warming up, checking all systems, pep talking to yourself (or your deity), enclosing everything valuable in a protective layer of calm awareness.

Early morning is a choice: letting the day take it’s course, or seating yourself comfortably at the controls.

Whenever possible, allow yourself that precious moment alone each morning before your day starts – at home, in a bus, or in your car – where you do it is not important.

Whatever happens, including the unexpected, you’ll be ready, and calm.

A lesson in listening.

I thought I was a good listener, able to adapt activities and approaches to my learners’ needs, types and personalities.

However, a recent experience from teaching one-to-one reminded of this: however good I think I am in what I do, there’s always lots to improve on.

Here’s what happened.

1. First impressions, wrong conclusions.

I was approached by someone who needed preparing for a final EFL exam at an economics course. After I asked my new learner about her English exam and, hearing it was oral exam on topics from economics, I made the obvious conclusion: the focus of our lessons should primarily be speaking – and lots of it.

I also asked the usual questions about her previous experience with language learning. Among other things, she told me about her difficulties with foreign languages and how she felt she didn’t have ‘the genes’ for them. She could, however, speak basic, every-day English and was able to memorise new vocabulary from economics. Her fear was that she would be unable to put the vocabulary into more complex sentences, which might prevent her from expressing herself well on the exam. I asked her what she would like to do in our lessons and she explained that she mainly wanted me to explain the basic English grammar to her, so that she could form sentences better.

In my mind, I agreed – grammar definitely helps to achieve better fluency.

The plan was as follows:

1. Avoid the usual “dry” grammar-translation used at schools. Focus on confidence-building, improving fluency, brushing up grammar in real context.
2. Use many visual prompts so that we could practice talking about what we see in simple and, gradually, more complex sentences, with linkers.
3. Prepare vocabulary flash cards for practising accurate definitions of important vocabulary on economics, based on the exam topics (money, competition, market, banks, products, etc.)

This, at least to me, was the perfect mix and, for the first lesson, I prepared a bunch of cool-looking visual prompts (photos of real people doing different jobs), all nicely lined up on my tablet, for a modern, stimulating lesson with no worksheets, textbooks, or photocopying, in which we would brush up the Present Simple and Continuous tenses in real context.

3. The revelation.

By the end of the lesson, however, I felt something wasn’t right. I was aware of my learner’s natural shyness, but I noticed there was a different kind of hesitancy, or a dissatisfaction in her reactions. Sensing how important this would be in our cooperation, I decided to ask her how satisfied she was with the lesson. She respectfully said she liked it, so I tried to ask a more direct question: what would she like to change and improve so that our next lesson would be even better?

After a small pause, she said something that made me realise that I was very wrong with my assumptions about our lessons:

“You know, I’d really like to focus on grammar, if you don’t mind.”

This simple sentence completely revealed to me what happened: the whole lesson wasn’t based on what my learner needed and asked me to do, but on what I thought my learner needed.

3. Making changes, eating humble pie.

Remembering our first meeting, I could clearly remember my learner trying to communicate her preferences to me right from the start. After all, she knew best what she needed and what suited her best.

As a teacher, I failed to respect her own experience as a learner,  interpreting her words entirely in my own way, based on my assumptions about her, forcing my approach and my preferences on her. Great….

Realising my mistake, I decided on a complete change. From our next lesson onwards, we’d focus on grammar. I’d prepare a list of all basic tenses for her and we would go through each of them, one by one, using simple charts, showing how the tenses are formed, with a little grammar-translation practice, all of which she could use for future reference at any time.

My learner looked relieved and happy.

4. Conclusion.

The second, and all subsequent lessons went well. Knowing what my learner really needed – a systematic, more formal approach to teaching grammar structures – I prepared clear, simple Power Point slides, showing how tenses are formed, starting with the Present Simple, and moving on to other tenses and grammar items relevant for intermediate level.

You can see how it works here:

In the lessons, my learner first tries to complete the provided empty grid in the first slide with the correct verb forms by herself, with my help, if necessary. Then I show the slide with completed verb forms, which she can copy into her notebook. I could simply copy the files for her in electronic form, but she prefers to write it down herself in the lesson, as it helps her to familiarise herself with the forms and gives her material for reference in her own handwriting. She then tries to translate a few sentences from L1 to L2 (written on another slide) with the given form orally. Afterwards, she checks and copies the sentences with translations from the last slide.

My job is to guide her through this process, explaining and highlighting important aspects, or correcting mistakes, if necessary. Everything else is up to her.

While this isn’t the method I would prefer, it clearly is a method my learner prefers, and she is making progress.

I hope next time, I will listen.

Really listen.

[Picture credit: courtesy of FCIT http://etc.usf.edu/clipart]

A “normal” teacher

an unusual situation: academic committee. seven members.

couldn’t help noticing some of the appropriately casual, disinterested expressions. but who can blame them? wouldn’t get far without one, i suppose.

i’m sitting opposite. separated by two rows of desks and gaping emptiness in the middle.

how apt.

i was listening to myself explaining the reasons why i felt suitable for the post. a thought emerged and floated at the back of my head that i haven’t been in a similar situation since graduation.. seven years ago.

i let the thought dive back and tried to refocus on the question.

my present teaching post..?

explain the unbelievable..

Well, you see, we use no textbooks, have no particular curriculum to cover, apart from a project of one sort or another that is to be completed by the end of each term. The content of each class is decided upon and filled in mostly by the learner and determined by the previous class. We are using the language in a mutually agreed context that can (and unusually does) change from class to class. There’s no homework, but a lot of work that can be done at home, on-line, or in class – either way is fine, as the classes don’t strictly begin or end in the scheduled times, but continue through to any time of day. Or night.

their eyes get disturbingly empty..

..And, there’s no punishment for unexcused absences…

some of their bewildered looks tell stories of two misunderstood worlds.

there was a pause before someone asked another question, a pause that seems to have grown in my mind now to an unusually awkward length:

“Can you see yourself teaching in a more… normal way, instead of this…. peculiar one?”

Unlocking the teacher within

one of the most inspiring people i’ve met. my wonderful university tutor of ELT methodology at University of Prešov, Zuzana Straková. i wish to express how important she became in what i do.

yes, became. i didn’t know, didn’t appreciate having her as my tutor at the time.

with her open, professional attitude, she naturally inspired independent thought, allowed reflection, encouraged positive and constructive feedback. she gave us time to reflect and share thoughts, knowing that practical applications of theoretical concepts, original solutions to old problems, motivation, joy and everything else a teacher needs – would follow on their own accord from us.

she gave us the positive expectations of an experienced master, the trust and the full, adaptable attention that allowed us to unlock the teacher within.

the kind of person that leaves a seed in you, without you being aware of it, a seed that later develops into a beautiful revelation, a flower of simple, accurate truth about the important things in life.

it was left with me unassumingly, with the great generosity of a true teacher.

she gave the impression of being perfectly satisfied with what she was doing at any given moment in time, regardless of the time of day, month, exam season, amount of snow outside or politics.

her attitude didn’t anticipate praise.

once in our methodology seminar she said something that hit home with such clarity and intensity that i draw inspiration from it to this day. even more so today than before.

“we teach the learner, not the course book.”

the quote stuck with me, as well as the memory of the seminars we had together. meaningful, clever, joyful and with a charming spark.

a small tribute to her selfless, professional approach that motivates me 10 years on.

is there someone who inspired you?

credits:
- image by me, Copyright 2005 (taken on the beach in Instow, North Devon, UK)
- the phrase “Unocking the teacher within” inspired by the book title “An Ode Less Travelled – Unlocking the Poet Within” by Stephen Fry

An early morning walk

went for a regular walk with my dog in an early misty spring morning, into the nearby forest. all was humid, with lush green leaves and fresh grass, tree trunks blackened with glazing dampness, the footpath through the wood soft and muddy

then this little fellow caught my eye with his fancy yellow blots and shiny black leathery skin

Salamander salamander, Fire Salamander or salamandra škvrnitá in Slovak, a beautiful, endangered amphibian that can live up to 20 years (in captivity for up to 50, apparently) and lives in deciduous forests only by the cleanest fresh water brooks

it was enjoying an earthworm (sorry, i did my best focusing with my phone camera, but rather failed)

i watched it for a while, then moved on

seeing one is considered lucky. they spend most of the day hidden away in darkness under the foliage and come out only in the evening and night. on wet, rainy days, they sometimes come out during the day, too, to feast on earthworms.

this was a good morning to be active for a salamander

one of the rewards of having a dog is that i don’t measure my walks into the nearby woods according to will or weather anymore. i go every day, early morning, before going to classes, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for two, then later in the afternoon for another round.

i feel healthier, calmer, having fresher mind in classes during the day. i feel connected.

not sure if i would find it in myself to have such regular lifestyle without my dog.

a small tribute to this warmhearted, unassuming creature, keeping me away from my own idleness

What twitter feels like

standing in the middle of the busiest crossroads in a giant virtual metropolis.
pedestrians swarming in from all sides, the rush of traffic and bustle of activity seems overwhelming.
it’s almost impossible to know what to do, where to go, who to talk to, even what to tell them.
everyone’s articulating random thoughts about anything and nothing in particular, appearing from and disappearing into the overwhelmingly anonymous mass of “individualities”, all seemingly on their way to somewhere, their thoughts apparently mattering to someone.

everyone seems to be passing by, ignoring hesitant bystanders (or those who are just being polite).
making (and breaking) contact within seconds…

this is what social media could feel like to a polite person, such as you and me, i suppose.

we don’t “steal in” an on-going conversation. we wait till the person speaking has finished making their point, acknowledge it, and react, if inspired, with a reply, expecting the same respect from everyone else. we take time to make friends. get to know people gradually, making choices as to who we spend time with, knowing it could be very precious.

virtual conversation, on the other hand, may feel very different. it has no beginning or end. there’s neither a clear number of participants, nor a set topic, not even a clear idea who you’re talking to. there’s no restricted time or space, there are no obvious conversational ‘turns’ in which an outside contribution would be appropriate.

for a person generally considered polite, all this could seem a little too chaotic, impersonal, and rude. this ‘netiquette’ may seem harsh, but is unavoidable. it’s a specific way in which we communicate ideas and talk with each other, for a special medium.

the most important skill for the 21st century is learning how to survive in the middle of the busiest crossroads in a virtual metropolis. learning to distinguish in that mass what’s important and what isn’t. learning to discern the ideas that matter from those that don’t. learning who to listen to and what to ignore without guilt.

after a while, individualities start emerging from the obscure mass. people who provide wonderful inspiration, motivation, encouragement are indeed there: those who don’t follow the main direction of the crowd, but stand their ground unassumingly, respectfully and naturally, creating a spot entirely genuine and pleasant.

that such people are available with no restrictions of time, distance, or politics, is one of the most fantastic things about the Internet.

no matter that you’re ignored or talking to no one in particular. we’re all chirping our way through to the ears that might listen.

Inequality in ELT – my thoughts on Jeremy Harmer’s blog post

My answer to Jeremy Harmer’s blog post. I decided to share it here to see what your thoughts are:

As an English teacher from Slovakia, living and working in the Czech Republic, I consider myself a part of the “common” teaching crowd (and I don’t use this term in a negative way – it’s just the way it is and, to be honest, I feel happy where I am, so do not send me any VIP plenary speaker invites jest yet, please!;))

Of course, there are hierarchies and structures.

I feel that most critical voices stem from the fact that language teaching is considered to be one of those noble, “selfless”, egalitarian occupations and, naturally, any mention of “profit” is bound to be sneered at, even if it’s deserved.

Also, unfortunately, foreign language teaching is very much undervalued within too many political systems around the world. Organisers there have a difficult task balancing quality of content, number of participants and satisfaction of all parties involved.

While there surely are brilliant minds all over the world that aren’t given due respect or reward, the brilliant minds that are invited to conferences and are respected in the world of ELT (whether thanks to intelligence, personal charm, a bit of ‘egotism’, etc.) have something to give. Neither they, nor the organisers can be blamed for “unequal” treatment, even if “profit” is involved (and where isn’t?).

We do live in an unequal world, after all. Hopefully, thanks to language teaching, the possibilities are becoming equally open to everyone.

At the same time, however, I am a little concerned about a different kind of inequality, still existing in every-day teaching situations in many countries. I’ve got personal experience from a prestigious state-owned bilingual grammar school in Slovakia, where I used to teach English with some of my native-speaking colleagues. Here, the pressures from parents to have more native-speaking teachers were so high that the school management had to offer many more advantages, both in terms of pay and other perks, to “attract” native speaking teachers. The parents saw this as absolutely acceptable and were willing to provide separate funds to provide more finances for native speaking teachers. It goes without saying that, while the local teachers were automatically expected not only to do their teaching job well, but the majority of paperwork, organise parent-meetings, as well as be held responsible for the success of the students at exams, even so, they were paid much less.

What we need, I feel, is change the existing discriminatory attitudes that put “native” teachers above their non-native speaking ELT colleagues.

What do you think?

When I was “boring myself”

i really was. this isn’t an example of incorrect usage of the phrase “be bored”. this is what it felt like when my ELT experience had lost ‘the juice’ of enjoyment and routine had set in.

i resorted to the required minimum, worked on autopilot, and, what was worst, everyone went along with it. no one seemed to care.

no alarms and no surprises (please).

it went on for some time, then it became a norm.

i found myself yawning inside my own head, while wearing (literally) my interested face, listening to some students’ dialogue for an N-th time, asking those bland questions about the weekend, presupposing their mistakes with cold accuracy.

i’ve seen it many times. failing to ignite any interest in my own work, i saw the same bland look in their eyes, perfectly mirroring mine…

What a horrible, horrible dream it was…..