What EFL classrooms in the states can learn from the Korean private school model

            My teaching experience in Korea entailed me having a Korean partner teacher. Together, she and I had ten classes, and we each saw five of our classes per day. The next day we would switch. I would begin by teaching a topic in English, and the following day she would teach the same topic, but predominantly in Korean. This way, the students were exposed to the concept through English, and then the following day they could discuss the topic in greater detail using Korean for support.

            This unique teaching context was not only creative, but highly effective! Our students were able to first totally immerse themselves in English while learning a new concept and then later were able to use Korean to practice and work out the kinks.  This framework was not only beneficial for my students, but it was also a really awesome professional development experience too!  I have heard that teaching is considered an “egg carton” profession, because we are so isolated in our practice. Having a partner teacher was eye-opening because we were able to collaborate and give one another feedback. This was a truly unique experience because I had the opportunity to break away from the sense of isolation experienced by teachers, and learned so much from my partner teacher in the process.

            My experience in the TESOL program has been extremely valuable and I have learned so much. The only aspect of the program I would call to question is based around my aforementioned experience in Korea. My program is comprised of predominantly Chinese students, and I notice that our professors push for a “Western” teaching model. I definitely see the value in a student-centered, task-based teaching approach, but I do feel that this push has left some valuable methods in the dark. In the program’s drive to emphasize “Western” methods and move away from teacher-centered classrooms that they so strongly associate with “non-western” culture, I feel that the program has neglected some really valuable teaching approaches.

            When I think about foreign language in the United States and compare it to foreign language acquisition abroad, I often ponder how students in other countries seem to master English and our students are still struggling to string sentences together after taking Spanish for 8 years. I realize that part of this is that English is a language of power and students are therefore highly motivated to learn. I am not saying that I am pro a teacher-centered learning environment. But I am saying that I think that education that takes place in foreign countries may have a lot more to offer than what we automatically assume here in the “west.” For this reason, I think that it is worthwhile to open to some of the teaching models that have proven successful in other countries, such as my co-teacher experience in Korea. Instead of being quick to discard ideas that came from elsewhere, maybe we could benefit from some oftentimes, in my opinion, revolutionary methods.  

Excited about Picturebooks!

      This week I thought I would share an assignment that I am really excited about! I am taking a picturebooks class, and for our final paper we are given a lot of liberty in how we explore a theme related to picturebooks. I decided to deeply explore the visual design elements and lesson plan possibilities of a picturebook that is very dear to my heart.

The Arrival, by Shaun Tan, exposes readers to the world of immigrants and the struggles they endure while navigating long journeys from oppressive homelands to the obstacles they face while adapting to a new life abroad. When exploring this story through the lens of picturebook theory, it becomes vividly apparent that Shaun Tan expertly utilizes various picturebook design elements to powerfully depict the profound fears and joys immigrants must face when leaving behind struggles and encountering new ones as they embark upon journeys to foreign lands. 

My final paper will explore how The Arrival can be used as a valuable teaching tool for my North Korean defector students. Last year, while teaching in Korea, I had the privilege to volunteer with students who risked everything to escape the oppressive regime of North Korea in search for a free life in South Korea. These students were an inspiration to me because they endured unfathomable terrors to escape their country, and despite this, are so resilient and happy. While teaching these students, I was amazed at their pure appreciation for being able to pursue knowledge, and because of this appreciation, the devotion with which they attended to their English studies.

When I left South Korea to begin my Master’s program, I left my students with a nagging feeling that I always wished I could have done more for them academically. I tried my best to create dynamic and engaging lessons, but I always felt that I fell short. They just did not seem to have the needed background knowledge to relate to the material and to see themselves reflected in the lessons. Because I am returning to South Korea to teach this summer, better attending to the needs of my North Korean students has been a topic that has weighed on my mind.

My picturebooks class came at the perfect time because it inspired me to incorporate The Arrival into my lessons with these students. I am so excited to use this book to help my students open up and engage in class. My students will be able to identify with the trials and tribulations present in this book, and it will help them open up and speak about the ways that they relate to the book.

My volunteer position with the North Korean defectors went much deeper than teaching them academic material. Volunteers were encouraged to provide these students with emotional support and friendship. Many of my students desired to talk to me about their experiences, and appreciated someone who would support them and listen to them about their struggles. Oftentimes it was difficult and daunting to share their experiences, especially because the topic was emotionally- charged and they had limited English proficiency. Using The Arrival will serve as a valuable tool because my students can use the wordless pictures to frame their own stories, and through this they can both improve their English, and most importantly, heal from the wounds of the past.

My Chat Experience!

Participating in the chats this week was definitely an adventure that tested my courage! As one of those people who always felt that someone else always has something more important to say in a digital space, the thought of contributing to the chat was daunting to say the least!

The first chat I entered was the #engchat. The topic of conversation was WOD, which is writing on demand. I think the use of the acronym was intimidating for me because I was not immediately clear on what the acronym stood for. This automatically made me feel under qualified to participate in the chat. It is interesting how acronyms in digital spaces can set up power hierarchies inadvertently, and this may leave people out. Thankfully, soon someone defined WOD and I felt like I had a better sense of the discourse everyone was engaging in. I decided that I was going to use this chat to “get my feet wet,” instead of totally jumping in. Replying to other people’s tweets seemed like the perfect way to this. So, when the topic of conversation shifted to discussing how WOD can become more authentic and meaningful to students, I replied to two people’s chats that posed this question. I suggested that giving students agency over their writing prompts will help them take ownership and make more meaning in their work. I also replied to someone and told them that I agreed with their emphasis on authentic prompts. I also added that it is up to teachers to engage students in this real world writing practice, as this will be most motivating for them.

It felt good to respond to tweets, but it also felt a bit less effective than the people posting tweets to the actual board. This is because I noticed that these people were getting plenty of responses and no one seemed to notice or address my responses. I think that this is because most people used the main board to respond to people’s tweets, and I believe that this made the responses more noticeable and part of the main conversation.

With this in mind, I went into the #literacies chat with a goal to become more active in the chat. I was very interested in the subject and, thanks to our digital literacies class, I felt that I could effectively add to the conversation. I raised a few points in the main chat section about ways to most effectively implement teaching digital literacies to students. I felt that our class conversation regarding transmediation was relevant, and mentioned that the goal is not just regurgitation of material but to take it and make it something dynamic and new (transmediate). In addition to our class conversations and activities, I was also inspired by our readings and got the idea about using our students’ social digital literacies practices in academic realms. I explained that we can learn from the way students collaborate information through social media and use this digital discourse in academic realms. I felt positive about these contributions and began feeling more comfortable with the conversation.

At one point I tweeted about asking students to connect via Twitter to discussions/communities relevant to their lives. I became intimidated when someone responded: I worry that the power structures of academic realms would sour the practices borrowed from social media. This immediately intimidated me because I am really not all that familiar with the discourse culture on Twitter. I was not sure if the person making the comment was inviting me to ponder my statement in a reflective way, or was looking for an intellectual debate. I am not really comfortable with going back and forth on Twitter because the fact that it is not in person takes away from the tone of the debate. I value respecting others’ opinions, and I make that clear in person by my tone of voice and gestures. I was nervous that I could not convey that respect on Twitter and I did not wish for our comments to seem defensive in any way. Because of this concern, I chose not to respond, a choice that I am also unsure of its Twitter culture appropriateness.

All in all, I am really happy that I stepped out of my comfort zone to participate in these chats. I realized from the last experience where someone questioned my tweet, that it would be really helpful to gain a clearer understanding of the Twitter culture to gauge how people interact and to ensure that I come off positively and respectfully, and nothing is misinterpreted.

Archives:

 #Engchat:  https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B8KmDxYk2nSWQnRuMzFSRHpUcWM/edit?usp=sharing

#literacies

http://literacieschat.wordpress.com/2013/01/13/literacies-in-school-out-of-school-and-online/

Kidisms

A recent “incident” inspired this blog entry. We shall deem this the “repeated “swearing” occurrence.”  My current teaching internship takes place at Chinatown Learning Center, in Philadelphia’s Chinatown, Here, I have the privilege of teaching ESL to a group of adorable and eccentric kindergarten students. The word eccentric describes this energetic and lovable bunch every time I work with them, but one particular day stands out. During their play break (a time where 6 year olds unleash their pent up energy through controlled chaos… or just chaos) one of my students came bounding up to me with the smug expression of a little girl about to report pertinent classroom updates… AKA … tattletale. In a matter-of-fact tone, she divulged “X is swearing over and over again in the corner by the dollhouse.” I charged across the room with my proud reporter trotting in tow, undoubtedly eager to witness her civic duty of reporting this incident develop into a juicy confrontation between teacher and offender. To my surprise, instead of encountering a student testing out the use of profanity on a girl playing in the Barbie house, I discovered a boy deeply concentrating on some strange form of dance. As I closed in on the situation, I soon realized that I recognized that dance as none other than the legendary “Gangnam Style” routine performed by the famed Psy, King of Korean pop. True to the lyrics, our “swearing” offender in question was repeatedly belting out the verse “heyyyyy sexxxy lady, opang Gangnam style!” I quickly gulped down a fit of laughter and replaced it with the “teacher look.” Despite the resolute confidence this look may portray to the two students  now staring up at me (one with a smug I-told-you-so expression, and one with a please-get-on-with-your interruption-so-I-can-continue-practicing-for-my-burgeoning-pop-career expression) my mind was working in overdrive. Part of it was laughing hysterically at the adorableness of a tiny kindergartner putting Psy to shame with his energetic and accurate dance moves, and part of it was wondering…is sexy a swear these days? Was it always a swear? At that moment I wished I could click the pause button on the remote to freeze my students in place, run to Penn’s Graduate School of Education, and ask the professionals for their insights. Unfortunately for me, a kid-freezing remote was not yet in my bag of teacher materials (I can barely track down enough pencils) so I knew I was on my own. I turned to my future pop star and said “X, your dance moves are really awesome, but if the words you are saying are making your classmates feel uncomfortable and upset, it is a sign that they are not appropriate for school. I would be happy to see you sing and dance to a song because you are really talented! But I need you to choose a song that has words that don’t make anyone feel bad.” I held my breath waiting for X’s reaction. Would he be hurt because he had no idea sexy was a weighted word? Would he be curious and ask me more about it, which would certainly lead to a super awkward conversation I did not know how to have with a Kindergartner? Thankfully he shrugged, continued to use Gagman Style’s dance moves, and changed the words out for some farm song about ducks he must have learned in music class. I then breathed a sigh of relief and walked away from these students to mediate an epic fight that broke out on the opposite side of the room over the coveted pink marker. (I really need to get more pink markers)

Working with young children, I am sure that this will not be the first or last time I encounter situations where my students catch me off-guard in amusing and slightly awkward ways. This time, my aspiring Psy accepted my request to refrain from his lyrical choice without inquiry. However, there will surely be a next time when a spunky little soul puts me in a position to explain something that is uncomfortable and ambiguous. Instead of cursing myself for not inventing the remote control that freezes my kids while I collect my thoughts, I need to remember that I am a professional, armed with good instincts and pedagogical theories and philosophies. I must trust that no matter what curve balls my youngsters may throw my way, I can react to them with grace and in the best interests of my students. As I gain more experience in the field, I will grow more confident with my ability to address these situations, and I will have some great stories along the way. As for now, I will applaud myself for dealing with this situation in a productive way, and for feeling extremely lucky that my student didn’t ask me any further questions into the matter.  (I think I would have needed that freeze remote) I think I will celebrate by kicking back in my dorm and blasting some Psy… Gangnam Style!