On the 90th anniversary of Fritz Lang’s dystopian film Metropolis – one of the earliest to include a robot – we ponder the role of robots in education.
In 2004, IBM executive Charles Lickel was eating in a restaurant when he noticed his fellow-diners abandoning their meals and heading towards the bar. Why the desperate scramble? They were rushing to watch Jeopardy!, a long-running and addictive quiz show. Seven years later, after Lickel had repeatedly fought for it, IBM built a machine called Watson to compete in Jeopardy!. It was to be a grand test of computing capabilities: a machine that could answer general knowledge questions about any subject at any time in history. Watson at first had some problems. When asked a question about 19th century British literature, the computer came up with the Pet Shop Boys – an English pop group – instead of Oliver Twist. But after much tweaking by its programmers, it eventually beat its human competitors.
The struggle between man and machine is nothing new. Back in the 15th century there were complaints that Gutenberg’s printing press would make monks lazy (part of their job was to copy manuscripts by hand). In 16th century England, William Lee presented his newly-invented knitting machine to Queen Elizabeth I in order to get a patent. She was so worried that hand-knitters would lose their jobs that she refused.
Half a millennium later, the world of work has changed drastically because of automation. Fritz Lang’s vision of workers slaving away in cavernous factories, as seen in Metropolis, has largely come true in developing countries. But has the world of education changed, too?
If you look at pictures of classrooms around the world over the last 150 years, the surprising thing is how little they have changed. There’s a teacher at the front with some kind of screen or board on which he or she writes. There are children in rows or clusters. Only in a few societies – notably in South Korea – has the paradigm occasionally been challenged by replacing the teacher.
In 2011, news came out of South Korea that the country was piloting a robot-teacher program for Elementary students. The robots, called Engkey, were controlled by remote teachers in the Philippines. The program helped to make up for the shortage of English teachers in the country, and while the robots were apparently motivating for the children, the idea was not to replace real teachers.
The fact is, automatons – by which I mean robots and any form of artificial intelligence – are extraordinarily good at some tasks and extraordinarily bad at others. When the parameters of the task are limited, such as knowing the finite possibilities of a chess match or doing calculus, automatons are brilliant. (In 1997, IBM’s machine, Deep Blue, beat world chess champion Garry Kasparov, who promptly accused IBM of cheating.) But other simple-sounding tasks are beyond them. While trying to build robots to do housework, inventors realized the biggest problem was teaching the robots to walk. In fact, most household chores are tricky for robots. In 2010, a team of UC Berkeley researchers built a robot that could fold towels. Unfortunately, each towel took 24 minutes to fold – fine if you have all week to do the laundry.
Ask any educator if robots will ever replace teachers and they’ll say no. Teachers have multiple roles: guides, mentors, facilitators. They do the soft skills – motivating students, explaining nuances of language, and building rapport – that machines can’t do. Most importantly, robots can’t inspire us.
Tucker Balch, associate professor of Interactive Computing at the Georgia Institute of Technology, says, “I don’t think a robot will ever be better than a person. Teaching is probably the most challenging role for artificial intelligence. It is a creative role and to teach well you really have to understand the person you’re teaching.”
Similarly, Daphne Koller, president and co-founder of Coursera, identifies three reasons why human teachers are essential: creating content, answering tough questions and providing inspiration.
Replacement of human teachers, then, seems unlikely. Having said that, what teacher wouldn’t appreciate a robot to help with the menial tasks machines excel in – checking attendance, grading homework, cleaning the board? Or perhaps our model should be a movie robot, but not the one from Metropolis, which ended up getting burned at the stake. In Star Wars, C-3P0 was designed by Anakin Skywalker as a translation machine, “fluent in over six million forms of communication.” Now that might be useful in a language classroom.
The concept of translanguaging was mentioned at a friend’s Ph.D dissertation defense the other day. Here’s some information about it.
Q: What an ugly word. Was it really necessary to turn language into a verb?
A: Not really. But you know what English is like: infinitely flexible.
What is translanguaging?
The phenomenon of people using more than one language in conversation, adding phrases from their other languages.
Isn’t that code-switching?
Kind of. Some people use the terms interchangeably. But there are differences.
What are the differences?
Code switching is a part of translanguaging, but translanguaging goes further. It is used naturally by students to help one another understand concepts and to make meaning. Translanguaging also involves deliberate pedagogical strategies to get students using all of their languages, their whole linguistic repertoire.
Why do that?
It strengthens both languages. And it values and affirms the first language instead of demoting it to a secondary status, behind English.
Where did the idea come from?
From a Welsh teacher/scholar called Cen Williams. He devised a special methodology to make sure Welsh children developed their Welsh language skills as well as English. The input would be in one language and the output in the other. For example, his students read a text in Welsh and wrote about it in English.
What’s the premise behind translanguaging?
Bilinguals don’t have a separate L1 and L2; they have a fluid linguistic repertoire. One’s language identity is dynamic. At different times of life, your L1 may become weaker than your L2. There’s a continuum of bilingualism that defies the categories we place people into: ‘monolingual,’ ‘bilingual,’ ‘English Language Learner.’
But why call it translanguaging?
What we’re doing here is seeing language as action – as something we do – which is why it becomes a verb, rather than a series of discrete structures to be learned in linear fashion. The prefix trans means move across. Bilinguals and language students are ‘moving across languages.’
Who ‘does’ translanguaging?
Everyone who uses more than one language in their daily life. In fact, a majority of the world’s population uses more than one language for work or social purposes. They move back and forth in their different languages. Watch these videos:
Isn’t code-switching employed when people don’t know enough vocabulary in their second language?
It’s not only a lack of vocabulary that prompts code-switching. When people code-switch, they do so systematically and for many purposes. For example: emphasizing a point; establishing membership of a multilingual community; expressing a concept that has no equivalent in the other language or is better expressed in one language.
Can you give me an example of a concept that has no equivalent in the other language?
Sure. I’ll give you three. The German word Schadenfreude refers to pleasure at witnessing another person’s misfortune. Wabi-sabi describes a Japanese worldview based on acceptance that nothing lasts forever and nothing is perfect. The Portuguese word saudades implies a feeling of longing that goes beyond missing something or someone. None of these words has a direct English translation.
Can you give an example of a concept that is better expressed in one language than another?
Sometimes it’s just a practical consideration. The Spanish word consuegra means your son-in-law’s mother. It’s far easier to say consuegra than the whole phrase in English.
Why might teachers introduce translanguaging to their classrooms?
If, say, a new student enters your classroom with a very low level of English, you want to involve that student and not leave them in a corner doing nothing. Finding ways to use their first language can help. It’s about adapting instruction to include everyone. Translanguaging also helps to raise metalinguistic awareness (knowledge of how language works) and highlights cross-linguistic similarities. The idea is to use all the linguistic resources possessed by the students.
How can translanguaging be practiced in a bilingual classroom?
Lots of ways. The teacher uses systematic methods to combine languages. Read a text in one language and write about it in another. Listen to a text in one language and discuss questions in another. There’s a school in the U.S. that puts on an end-of-term theater production using the different languages spoken by the students.
Any other examples?
A teacher called Camilla Leyba has a Rap Monday. She plays rap songs in English and Spanish and gets the students to translate the lyrics both ways using Google Translate, ipads, dictionaries, and any other resources they can find, including one another. Then they compare and contrast the songs. Later, they either write an essay or give a presentation in English, which they subsequently re-do in Spanish.
And if I want to find out more?
Look at the work of Dr.s Ofelia García and Li Wei. They’re the leading lights of translanguaging. Garcia has talks and articles on the web.
Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.
Imagine a school in which the students built robots to help in the home; designed working models of wild habitats; used 3D printers to make prosthetic arms for war victims. Now that would be a real education, right?
In the current educational climate, which mixes a DIY ethic with social and ecological awareness, two phenomena are just beginning to impact learning environments: Citizen Science and the Maker Movement.
In the arena of science, there’s too much work to be done by too few scientists. For decades, experts have been delegating tasks to amateurs. Citizen Science is all about crowdsourced data collection. It involves enthusiastic amateurs going out and observing the natural world, using fit-for-purpose tools, and reporting their findings to a central database. The type of things they study include the weather, plant life, and animals. An example: every year, of the 19,000 species of animal newly named, amateurs are responsible for 60%.
The projects are as varied as nature itself. Eighth-grade schoolchildren observe the sky each morning and send their observations to NASA. A group of retirees goes on fossil hunts across dried-out ocean beds and logs their findings on a paleontology database. In the Congo, pygmies use specially designed smartphones (pictures instead of words) to gather data about poaching and deforestation.
Citizen Science is bound up with democracy and understanding the environments we live in. It may just help to make the world a better place.
The Maker Movement
The Maker Movement is all about DIY. Groups get together in Maker Spaces or Fabrication Labs and just build stuff. Most of the ‘stuff’ is simple: nine-year-old Caine Munro’s game arcade made entirely of cardboard, or the marshmallow cannon that 14-year-old Joey Hudy demonstrated to President Obama in the White House.
But for a few privileged students, the building blocks are now 3-D printers, robotics hardware and microprocessors. At the annual Maker Faire in San Francisco, recent projects include a flight simulator based on Battlestar Galactica and a wheelchair-controlled DJ station.
In mainstream schools, particularly on the west coast of the U.S.A., where teachers have brought the Maker Movement to their classrooms, it’s been observed that the projects bring together different academic disciplines: science, mathematics, art, and geography.
There’s even a variation called the Un-maker Movement. This involves taking things apart in order to find out how they work. Cassette recorders, old telephones, first generation computers – you name it, it can be sliced and diced.
Citizen Science, the Maker Movement and Language Learning
The type of education I’m talking about goes by a number of names: hands-on education, learning-by-doing, inquiry-based learning. But can it benefit language learners? And if so, how?
In 1979, James B. Herbolich described a task-based lesson in which his engineering students at the University of Kuwait designed and made box kites. Using English only, they also wrote a manual on how to operate the kites. The idea of projects in language learning is that students become so engaged that they barely register that they’re using English as a medium of communication.
Citizen Science and The Maker Movement, quite apart from their potential to produce useful data and objects, have much the same promise. I see these as avenues that all teachers would do well to explore, to find out if making and observing stuff might just help their students become more engaged with the world and with what they’re learning.
The projects don’t have to be complex. Some years ago my adult class of CAE students made a book of assorted writings and illustrations. They did almost all the work themselves, from design to editing to printing. As for the contents, each genre of the CAE exam was represented (essays, fiction, brochures, etc.). So they practised their writing, and at the end of the course they had a memento of their time at the school. I look back and realize that was my first Maker moment.
Since then I’ve seen colleagues working with students to script and film soap operas, interview community members about their town, put on English language plays, write museum guides, and document environmental changes beside a local river.
My advice? Start small and see where the journey takes you.
I asked an assortment of teachers, teacher trainers, materials writers, methodology writers, bloggers, Directors of Studies, and school owners to make one Christmas wish for English Language Teaching, to be carried over into 2015. Here’s what they said:
“My wish for 2015 is that a natural desire to measure every facet of language learning and its outcomes should be tempered by reminding ourselves that learning language is a deeply human activity; it is about communication and a good classroom should be a place of laughter and joy (as well as seriousness).”
Jeremy Harmer, lecturer, author
“My ELT New Year’s wish for 2015 is that the profession becomes more truly valued both by schools, who should recognize and reward the dedication and professionalism of their teachers, and by the big corporations who should recognize and reward the expertise and creativity of their authors and that in the rush to digital, the knowledge and experience of the last 50 years in ELT should be valued and not be lost in a return to audio-lingual behaviourist teaching methodology.”
Jill Hadfield, lecturer, author
“My Christmas wish is for constant dialogue and not inconsistent decisions to be what shapes education. For pupils to have a voice, for teachers to speak their intuitions, for parents to feel like they’re a more than spectators of the schooling system.”
Divya Madhavan, lecturer
“My wish for 2015 would be for more open dialogue within the ELT community, especially on topics such as EdTech and the future of publishing. I worry sometimes that too many of these important conversations happen where they can’t be seen or joined by the wider teaching community.”
Nick Robinson, author, editor, agent
“My Christmas ELT wish is for institutions to stop focussing so exclusively on standardised curricula and measurable outcomes, so teachers have more freedom and flexibility to allow for learning which may be difficult to measure or interpret. I wish we would stop overemphasising the value of technology in education and underemphasising the value of genuine human interaction in the classroom and beyond. Oh, and I’d also ask for most teachers to be paid a little bit more and to work a few hours less.”
Antonia Clare, author
“Happy Christmas to all those that way inclined and all the best for 2015. Here’s hoping we see a year in which grandstanding rhetorical whizzes cease denigrating the incredible work of many everyday teachers; we move back towards language teachers being involved in discussions about basics like . . . um . . . language and teaching . . . and the all-powerful PPP paradigm finally does the decent thing and slinks off to die in a cave somewhere.”
Hugh Dellar, teacher trainer, author
“My Christmas wish is about publishers. I’d like to see a more measured, thoughtful and sensible approach to edtech and the future of educational publishing than what we have seen so far.”
Lindsay Clandfield, teacher trainer, author
“My wish for 2015 is to have fewer ELT extremes and more moderate views that allow us to be more open-minded about the positive aspects of so many, methods, approaches, styles and even fads. I hope for a more inclusive and holistic view of teaching and learning, one where we can draw from whatever can enhance learning and make it even more effective!”
Vicky Saumell, coordinator, author
“My Christmas wish for the ELT profession as a whole would be for it to be thought of again more as a profession and less as an industry. I’d love to work on books again, rather than products, and work with people who have a passion for educating and a love of the English language, rather than a need to create a certain volume of a product to go into the marketplace.”
Diane Hall, author
“What I’d like for Christmas would be for the Gates Foundation to apologise for all the damage they have done to education, both in the US and worldwide, and to donate (to, say, AFT) an equivalent amount to what they have already spent in their mission to privatize and digitalize a fundamental human right.”
Philip Kerr, teacher trainer, author
“In 2015 I hope we’re brave enough to take a close, hard, honest look at some of the dogmas that remain relatively unchallenged in our profession, such as the principled use of translation in monolingual classes.”
Luiz Otávio Barros, teacher trainer, author
“I’m particularly interested in the application of technology in the English language classroom. In 2015, I’d like to see less emphasis on technology per se, and more emphasis on how to use it appropriately and effectively to help students learn. That means asking (and answering) the question ‘How does this help my students learn/acquire English?’, rather than ‘How can I use this cool tool with my students?’. It’s not about the technology, it’s about the teaching (and learning).”
Nicky Hockly, Director of Pedagogy, author
“I’d like more academic rigour in the ELT profession. With the digitalization of knowledge everything tends to get dumbed down and anybody can become an expert. As buzzwords, terms like ‘personalization’, ‘visual literacy’ and ‘critical thinking’ get simplified and co-opted by people and companies with different agendas – at best they become hollow and lose any meaning. It would be great to see more input which tackled topics from well-researched angles such as Philip Kerr’s blog on adaptive learning.”
Ben Goldstein, lecturer, author
“I would like all teachers not to be afraid or feel bad about making mistakes. We should also continue to develop professionally and learn constantly. No matter how many years we have been in the profession, we are always learning and that is the beauty of it!”
Vicky Loras, teacher, school owner
“In 2015, I’d like to see ELT publishers return to really listening to teachers instead of telling them what they think they need.”
Allen Ascher, author
“I would like 2015 to be the year when we start to cut back on the seemingly-endless list of ‘responsibilities’ that English teachers are supposed to have. It would be nice to get back to some good old teaching English. Also, perhaps it will be the year when Russ Mayne convinces the profession that it should turn its back on pseudoscience.”
Jamie Keddie, teacher trainer, author
“I’d like to see more creativity inside the classroom from students and teachers, and also classrooms that are more inclusive where students have the opportunity to learn, share, play and live the school environment happily. So, wishing you all a wonderful 2015.”
Priscila Mateini, teacher, teacher trainer
“Please, Santa, could you persuade one of the leading publishers to commission a book from an author with charisma and a delightful, lucidly argued, crystal clear and witty writing style with a carefully market researched title whose sub-title would be something like: “Why obsession with “grammar” is detrimental to the effectiveness of the joint enterprise of consenting learners and facilitators (teachers) of English as a foreign/second/other language to become enjoyably and motivatingly proficient in the language for whatever reasons they need it.”
Dennis Newson, teacher trainer
My thanks to all the contributors, and a merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all followers of this blog and clients of Reallyenglish. See you in 2015.
What is the brain?
The brain is a jungle. It’s a pulsating, breathing, evolving ecosystem that teems with life. It has stand-alone features – the equivalent of trees and rivers and swamps – but everything is connected to everything else.
It’s made up of cells called neurons. David Eagleman, a neuroscientist, reckons these cells are “about as complicated as New York City.” And we have 10 billion of them. Their job is to make networks. Different regions of the brain are specialized: hearing, sight, bodily sensations, etc., but these regions work together to give us our multi-sensory experience of the world.
How does the brain learn? Ask your PET CAT.
Thanks to technological developments of the last few decades, we know more than ever about how the brain learns. Various types of scan – MRI, PET and CAT – give us access to what’s happening at the molecular level. When we learn something new, the information is transmitted along a neural pathway until it is stored temporarily in short-term memory. If the brain believes the input to be important, the input gets processed to the neurons in the amygdala (responsible for memory, emotions, decision-making, etc.) and moves to an area in the brain where we store information more permanently rather than dismiss it. It’s the difference between the Save and Delete options on your computer.
When we need to apply what we know, our neurodevelopmental functions spring into action. These consist of attention, higher order cognition, memory, language, neuromotor functions, spatial ordering, temporal sequential ordering, and social cognition. They work like little gangs to achieve tasks, so one gang helps us learn to ride a bicycle, another to do advanced algebra, another to fry an egg.
From knowledge of how learning happens, we can infer how teaching should happen. Here are a few ideas:
The brain functions in many ways simultaneously: it picks up smells and sounds and sights, etc., and refers these to other smells and sounds and sights that it encountered previously. Thus we make connections. If we smell coffee, we may recall the taste of it, or visualize a field of coffee beans in the foothills of the Andes, or remember grandma brewing a pot in her kitchen. The strength of these connections is vital to learning.
What does this mean for teachers? We need to relate new information to previously learned information. We do this by using techniques for recapping: quick-writes, mini-quizzes, mind-maps, or revision games such as ‘backs to the board’ or ‘ask and tell.’
We also need to present information in multiple modes: images, movement and music, as well as words. The more sensory input that accompanies the new information, the better the chance of retaining it. Mel Levine, in A Mind at a Time, recommends changing a verbal task into a visual one and then changing a visual task into a kinesthetic one.
Judy Willis, in Research-Based Strategies to Ignite Student Learning, writes “Attention is a process of selecting the most relevant information from the mass of sensory input all around us.”
Naturally, we ignore most of the stimuli around us. The brain is hardwired only to pay attention to things that help us survive. The question, then, for teachers, is how to capture students’ attention. Socrates said that all learning begins with wonder, and sure enough, we find that novelty, surprise, humor, movement, drama, color and creative use of space can help. Laughter produces endorphins and dopamine, which stimulate the brain. Movement produces epinephrine (adrenalin).
Research into memory tells us it has many different components: short term, long-term, active working memory, storage, retrieval, explicit and implicit memory. We might believe we ‘know’ something even if we only deposited it into short-term memory. This is why we can study all night for an exam, remember everything we need, and forget it all within 24 hours.
The development of long-term memory in learning requires students to be engaged, to do something with the information: create, re-order, rank, re-design, extend, manipulate in some way so that the student takes ownership of it. It means educators must embrace active learning and set challenging tasks, because the brain that does the work is the brain that learns.
It also means students need to encounter new information several times. In language learning, estimates vary as to how many times we need to process a word in order to acquire it in long-term memory (see previous post on memory). But we do know that spaced repetition is essential. To use Michael Lewis’s analogy, exposure to target language has to recur like a bouncing ball – we need to see, hear or use the new language again and again and again.
Left brain, right brain
Carl Jung once wrote, “In each of us there’s another whom we do not know.” According to Roger Sperry’s theory, the left side of the brain deals with logic, order and linear analytical skills. The right side is responsible for creativity, imagination and intuition. The two sides of the brain are actually more similar than commonly thought, but the implication is that teachers should try to involve both sides of the brain to enhance learning.
Various activities use both sides. For example, ask students to measure something in class with a part of the body (“this paper is six noses long”; “this book is three fingers wide”); “walk around the classroom and touch seven things that are the colors of the rainbow, then write them down in alphabetical order”; “ask a question and throw a ball to the person you wish to answer it.” In regular education, a great teacher might use music to teach mathematics or art to teach biology, or vice versa. In language classrooms we can use anything to teach anything.
In 1988, Stephen Krashen introduced a theory about what he called “the Affective Filter.” The idea is that when students are under excessive stress, a mental blockage occurs which prevents them from learning. The theory proved correct. Ten years later, researchers found – through neuroimaging – a part of the amygdala that corresponds to the affective filter.
For educators, the theory means that an ideal learning environment avoids undue stress. How to achieve this? Through building rapport with students, pitching the content and tasks at the right level, promoting a positive atmosphere through encouragement and team-building, and by engaging in ongoing dialogue about how the students are improving.
In online learning, adaptive software can play a part in reducing stress. It tracks the student’s progress and guides them along a path customized for their own particular needs. This may prove beneficial to those students who are left behind or slowed down by the pace of the class.
We started with the metaphor of the brain as a jungle. It’s difficult to navigate your way through either, and our journey to understand the brain is only just beginning. As we learn more about how the brain processes, stores, and recalls information, we’ll learn more about how to enrich our students’ learning.
All great books are subversive. Think of Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams or Joyce’s Ulysses. They teach you to see the world in a new way. They bring ideas into existence, and, like ripples in a pool, they alter everything around them.
Here’s a personal list of favorite mind-blowing books on education. Of course there are omissions – some of the big guns in the canon: Piaget, Dewey, Montessori, and a couple of hell-raisers: Postman and Weingartner. But we can’t have everyone, so let’s celebrate these ten.
1. Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire
Freire’s personal story is part of his legend. A middle-class light-skinned man teaches literacy to Brazilian peasants, thereby empowering them, and gets exiled by the military junta. An obvious and inescapable choice, Freire’s masterwork has influenced generations of teachers. Many of the concepts and terminology we use to talk about education today come from his work. He describes the banking method: the knower (teacher) deposits knowledge into the empty vessel (student); and he emphasizes problem-posing and dialogue. Pedagogy of the Oppressed isn’t an easy read – there’s a lot of philosophy in there – but stick with him and Freire will guide you for the rest of your teaching days.
2. Frames of Mind by Howard Gardner
The editor of ‘English Teaching Professional’ once told me that barely a day goes by when she doesn’t receive an article citing the Theory of Multiple Intelligences. Gardner’s theory is both radical and brilliant: it states that there are many types of intelligence beyond the ‘book knowledge’ that gets you an A. His wide-ranging scholarship and his humility stand out. He introduces Kinesthetic Intelligence by describing the mime artist Marcel Marceau. He invokes another kind of intelligence by describing how twelve-year-old Puluwat boys in the Caroline Islands are chosen by elders to become master sailors, grappling with waves, stars, and treacherous coastlines. In other words, Gardner looks far and wide and, through a seemingly simple idea, enriches the lives of us all.
3. Teaching to Transgress by bell hooks
Hooks is a diamond. A black woman from a rough neighborhood in Kentucky, USA, she experiences ‘learning as revolution’, and sees her education as a political act because it was rooted in antiracist struggle. Her devotion to a life of the mind, despite numerous obstacles, is part of a “pedagogy of resistance” and she insists that real education must be the practice of freedom. Indeed, her life’s work has been to fight domination, whether by men, schoolteachers or governments. This book of essays is a tremendous testament to that work.
4. Teacher by Sylvia Ashton-Warner
For two and a half decades Ashton-Warner taught five-year-old Maori students in New Zealand, and during this time came up with a revolutionary method for literacy teaching. What words to teach? “Pleasant words won’t do. Respectable words won’t do … They must be words that are already part of the child’s being.” She rejected the pre-packaged, pre-chosen textbook involving the fictitious ‘Janet and John.’ She also rejected “the frame of an imposed culture.” In this age of mass-produced one-size-fits-all educational tools, her work seems as vital as ever.
5. Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
Most of us have experienced it: that sense of pleasure, of time not mattering, as we focus on something so deeply that the rest of the world temporarily disappears. Some find this bliss in reading; others in sports; others in making music; and so on. And most of us had probably never put a name to it until Csikszentmihalyi examined the phenomenon and gave it shape and meaning. His book is not directly about learning, but anyone who reads Flow will see the immediate relevance to education because it’s only in a state of flow that we truly learn anything.
6. Deschooling Society by Ivan Illich
A superbly conceived book, Deschooling Society dissects modern education’s obsession with credentials and commodities. Illich claimed that schooling is based on the same structures as consumer society: top-down management controlling a powerless, disenfranchised workforce and offering a ‘product’ that is to be ‘consumed.’ In its place, he suggested self-directed education. Some of his claims, written in the 1960’s and 70’s, seem extraordinarily prescient: he argued for “educational webs which … transform each moment of [a person’s] living into one of learning, sharing and caring” and suggested that through ‘learning webs’, remote peers work together to tackle tasks.
7. Thought and Language by Lev Vygotsky
Vygotsky’s ideas grow more relevant by the year. Among them is the so-called Zone of Proximal Development – the gap between what a learner can do with the help of a mentor and what she can do unaided (her goal). This idea finds adherents everywhere from policymakers in U.S. kindergartens to the authors of the language scales in the Common European Framework. Thought and Language also has groundbreaking things to say about inner speech, the relationship between thinking and speaking, and how children perceive words. A brilliant educational psychologist, Vygotsky died at the age of thirty-seven, but his work has survived and his ideas thrived.
8. Savage Inequalities by Jonathan Kozol
This is a devastating critique of education in the United States. Kozol lifts the lid on the world’s richest country and finds a morass of neglect: schools with broken windows and fields running with sewage, classrooms with buckets to catch the rain that falls through holes in the ceiling. No books, no heating, plaster walls literally falling apart. No wonder the teachers and students are demoralized. Kozol explores the relationship between racism, poverty, and greed that allows such a state of affairs to exist, and documents a vicious circle of dysfunction. As one teacher says, “pay now or pay later.”
9. Summerhill: A Radical Approach to Child Rearing by A.S. Neill
Founded by A.S. Neill in 1921, Summerhill had one main principle: make the school fit the child (not the other way round). Lessons were optional, and school rules were made democratically by staff and students. Neill didn’t care about teaching methods: “the child who wants to learn long division will learn long division no matter how it is taught,” and visitors to Summerhill often couldn’t tell who was staff and who was pupil. His educational philosophy went against the modern trend, which he described as “lads and lasses stuffed with useless knowledge …they have been taught to know but have not been allowed to feel.” Throughout the book, it’s clear that Neill’s approach was based on love and trust. Forty years after his death, the school is still going strong.
10. Education and the Significance of Life by Jiddu Krishnamurti
“The ignorant man is not the unlearned, but he who does not know himself.” “The man who knows how to split the atom but has no love in his heart becomes a monster.” “The teacher … of the right kind … will not depend on a method, but will study each individual pupil.” Much of what Jiddu Krishnamurti had to say is now taken for granted by educators. But when he was writing in the 1950’s, these were radical ideas. His vision of educating the whole person, of working to develop compassion in students rather than good grades, and his insistence that the young have no fear of failure were hallmarks of his philosophy. His work lives on in various foundations and schools that disseminate and practice his ideas.
I recently enrolled on a course called Conversational Spanish for Beginners: Module 1. I’m not really a Beginner. Besides living in Colombia for several months, I’ve spent time in a dozen Spanish-speaking countries, and I also speak Portuguese and Italian. So I’m a false beginner. In fact, I’m so false that I’m a Totally-Fraudulent-Shouldn’t-Really-Be-In-The-Class Beginner. My motive for joining the class was to brush up on the language and to enjoy learning something under no pressure.
The class meets once a week for two hours. It’s made up of older community members (I think only two of us are under fifty), and there are between 11 and 15 students – people drop out, reappear, come late, leave early, metamorphose into owls, etc. Fortunately, we have an excellent teacher. He’s well prepared, patient, and experienced, which doesn’t mean he’s above criticism.
Like my friend and colleague Scott Thornbury (see his blog here), I decided to keep a kind of diary of my experiences in this class, in order to reflect on life as a language student. Here are my observations halfway through the course:
Beginner doesn’t mean stupid
We’re bad at Spanish, but not necessarily at thinking. My classmates include lawyers, professors, published poets and healthcare workers. Our teacher treats us with the utmost respect, but I distinctly recall on a couple of occasions he’s told us things like, ‘when someone says ‘buenos dias’, you need to reply ‘buenos dias’’. Well, duh! My advice? Ditch the pragmatics; just teach the language.
Pace please, even with Beginners
Generally, class time has flown by. But we sometimes do that ‘round the room’ thing, where everyone says ‘cómo está usted?’ (‘how are you?’) or some such phrase to their partner, while we all watch and listen until it’s our turn. This slows down the pace and ends up with the naughty students (that’s me) breaking into conversation, thumb-twiddling, doodling, texting, yodeling, etc.
Drilling: useful but not that useful
Drilling is great for getting your tongue around a new language. Having said that, there are only so many times you can shout ‘aguacate!’ (‘avocado!’) without falling into existential despair. In fact, I have my doubts about the usefulness of some of the food items we’re being drilled on. My rule of thumb is that if I can’t name it in English and it’s not a national dish, I don’t need to know it in a foreign language.
Demonstrations are better than instructions
Sometimes we begin a round-the-room dialogue drill with two absolute beginners who have no idea (a) what they are supposed to say (b) why they are saying it (c) who they are talking to. It’s been a great reminder to start with stronger students and to give very clear models.
Range of ability means range of opportunity for the teacher
Some of the students have extensive experience of Spanish; others have an aptitude for languages. Others have neither. It’s got me thinking ‘how could the teacher use the more advanced students to help the less advanced?’ Actually, a couple of us have taken it upon ourselves to sit with the real beginners and nurse them through difficult parts of the lesson. That’s because we’re saints.
Offer different modes to learn
Most of our learning has come directly through the teacher’s modeling of phrases (this must be exhausting for him), with lots of practice among the students. I’d quite like to read a text or listen to a short audio clip or watch a video or write a dialogue or do some kind of task. It’s difficult with complete beginners, but four classes in, I’d like to be exploring different modes of getting input and producing output.
A good atmosphere can compensate for many things
While some are struggling and others are under-challenged, all of us are enjoying ourselves. We are mature enough to see the language class as an elaborate game in which you ask someone their name even if you know it; ask where someone’s from even if she happens to be your wife; and pretend to want to order some obscure fruit that looks like a radioactive hedgehog.
Overall, the class has been great so far. Muy buena y muy divertida. What about your experiences as a Beginner? Similar or different?
Los veo luego (or ‘hasta later’, as one student was heard to say last week).