Showing posts with label Kevin Giddens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kevin Giddens. Show all posts

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Talking about Not Talking (Hatless)

Hi all,

A big thank you to everyone for your support over the past two years. Realizing that this blog keeps growing and that the options for making it navigable with blogger are diminishing week by week, I've moved over to WordPress.  I hope this doesn't cause any unnecessary inconvenience.

The original article you are looking for is below this short message. After reading, if you have a moment to check out the new (and hardly changed) "The Other Things Matter", please drop in.  Would love to hear from you.





The other day I got an email from Kevin Giddens of Do Nothing Teaching fame.   He said he was going to be giving a keynote at a conference for Guatamalan public school teachers and wondered if I would put together a short video in which I talk about my "Do No Talking" class.  So I did.  I filmed myself talking on and on about my no talking class.  Which seemed normal at the time, but seems kind of strange now. 

The video doesn't really have anything new in it.  But I'm kind of jealous of how all my friends have started adding video posts to their blog.  So I'm posting it here so I can feel like I've joined the multi-media world (do people even use the term multi-media anymore? Sounds very 1990.) 

Anyway, if you missed my post on "Do No Talking," or you have lots of free time on your hands, or you are wondering what I look like without a hat, please feel free to check out the video.  And actually, as I was watching it again, I realized that the last minute or so does have a new idea or two.  And I'm not just writing that to get you to click play...


And please ignore the whole "Hello in Guatemala" thing at the start.  Or if you want, you can simple swap out Guatemala for whatever country you happen to be in right now.   

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Role-play as (train wreck) learning experience

Hi all,

A big thank you to everyone for your support over the past two years. Realizing that this blog keeps growing and that the options for making it navigable with blogger are diminishing week by week, I've moved over to WordPress.  I hope this doesn't cause any unnecessary inconvenience.

The original article you are looking for is below this short message. After reading, if you have a moment to check out the new (and hardly changed) "The Other Things Matter", please drop in.  Would love to hear from you.






 
Every week I teach an intensive language class for interested students (and by interested, what I really mean is students whose home-room teachers have decided that said student is interested).  The number of students and student levels fluctuates wildly from week to week.  And I am always looking around for new ways to spend two or three hours after which all of the students will have some sense of satisfaction.  Kevin Giddens’ blog is a great source of lesson ideas and I stumbled across a description of a particularly interesting beginner Bosnian lesson  facilitated by Mary Cay Brass at the Summer Master of Arts in Teaching program at the SIT Graduate Institute.  So first off, I would like to lay all the blame for this disastrous lesson on thank Kevin for a great lesson idea which I fiddled with to the point of destruction.   

There were only five students in the class on this day, two lower level first year students and 3 upper level second year students. The six of us sat in a tight circle in the middle of the room with a table in the middle of the circle.  On the table was a voice recorder.  In the standard way this lesson works, students think of something--anything really--that they would like to say in English, tell the teacher and the teacher then provides the student with a translation of the sentence into the target language (in this case English).  But as I was dealing with a mixed group and felt like the students would be missing the energy and excitement that would me generated by studying a novel language like Bosnian, I decided to add some extra spice to the lesson goulash.  I decided to turn it into a role play.  I figured that if the students were in a role where it did not matter what their English levels were, but had to work together for a common end, then it might lead to better group cohesion and everyone might get more out of it.  And this was the absolutely brilliant idea that flashed out of the nether regions of my brain: have the students pretending to be UN Peacekeepers about to head off to a hot spot.  I explained that they had two and a half hours to learn the phrases they might need to interact with the native population and keep themselves safe.  I was going to be taking the role of their language instructor for this intensive course, but as they were trained soldiers who had a better idea of what kind of language they would need to master, I would be leaving all language generation up to them. 

I waited.  The students looked at each other.  One of the lower level students kept looking around at the upper level students pleadingly.  The other lower level student just looked at the ground.  Finally, one of the upper level students screwed up some courage and in Japanese said, “Do you and your family have enough to eat?”  I said the sentence clearly and slowly in English.  The student repeated it a few times, picked up the voice recorder, and said it into the machine.  I waited.  Nervous laughter.  More nervous laughter.  Shifting in chairs. 
One of the students said to me, “Kevin, please help us.” 
              “I want to help you,” I said.  “But my role is to support you.  I’m afraid you will have to come up the sentences on your own.”
              One of the three upper level students started giggling uncontrollably and left the room.  And I waited.  A few minutes later the giggler popped back into the room.
              For 40 minutes this pattern continued and we ended up with 10 sentences which included:
              “This area is not safe.  Follow me as quickly as possible.”
              “We would like to throw a party for you to thank you for your help.”
              “Our countries might seem like enemies, but I am here to help you.”
              “Is there anything you need?  Blankets?  Heating oil?”
               
I then wrote up those sentences on the board with the literal translations beneath each word and passed out 5 long slips of paper to each student.  The students were then encouraged to pick up some of the language from the board and jot it down on the slips of paper.  They could pick just a word, a phrase, or a complete sentence.  Finally all the students gathered back together and were given 15 minutes to make novel sentences, folding the slips, placing them next to each other, or placing one slip directly on top of another for word or phrase replacement.  After they had made a novel sentence, I would ask them what they had wanted to express and if necessary I would correct the sentence so it was accurate.  The students enjoyed this part of the lesson and it worked pretty much as I had hoped.  There were a lot of interesting collocations and phrases that ended up becoming apparent, like “as ~ as possible,” and “I would like to ~.”  The higher level students did a lot of scaffolding for the lower level students.  A bunch of nonsense sentences got formed.  And students started to smile.

So what went wrong in the beginning?  I talked to the students and the biggest complaint was that they had no idea of what it would mean to be a peacekeeper heading off to a hot spot.  Woops.  My bad.  Part of the problem was a basic mistake in how I conceptualized the class.  I wanted to have a time limited role-play which would generate a fair number of sentences quickly enough to move on to the second stage of the lesson.  But I had confused goal with process.  I didn’t simply want students to take on a temporary role to practice a specific type of interaction, like buying a pair of glasses or refusing to go on a date, which is what role-playing, is good for.  I had wanted the students to more fully inhabit the role of Peacekeepers and for the content of the lesson to flow from that role.  This isn’t a role play.  This is a simulation.  Drama activities in the language classroom can be seen along a continuum from scripted on one side to ever more improvisational on the other (Kao & O’Neill).  Improvisational dramatic activities in ELT can further be broken down into three rather broad categories:

1)      Improvisational role-playing: limited time duration.  Used to practice a specific type of interaction in which a specific language might or might not be targeted. 
2)      Simulations: extended activities in which students do not take on roles, but play themselves in novel situations and in which the process of production is perhaps even more important than the final product.
3)      Process Drama: where students take on multiple roles which can span a number of different situations all dealing with a similar issue which is to be explored through dramatic response. 

There are a lot of texts on simulations and process drama filled with concrete advice like: ask questions of the participants to let them help shape the situation (Jones); verify that the situation is understood well enough to, “sustain reality of function.” (Jones); describe the “frame” of the drama well enough to give the dramatic act a sense of tension (Bowell & Heap).  All of which I blithely ignored.  What is even odder, I have actually run a process-drama class in my school.  I’ve spent hours putting together sets of faux-newspaper articles and trial-transcripts just so my students would be able to dramatically explore a re-trail of the big bad wolf from The Three Little Pigs.  That’s right, The Three Little Pigs!  So why did I think that these same students would be able to simply slip into the role of U.N. Peacekeeper?  Somehow, the flash of a good really terrible idea and the fog of expectations that followed had kept me from reasonably assessing the situation and pivoting when necessary.  I think this is a pretty clear case where if I had just stopped and really thought a little more about the theory and methodology which should underpin the lesson, my students and I would have had a much less seat-shifting-cheer-creaking-nervous-laughter fifty minutes.

When I was at university, one of my writing instructors always said, “Kill your babies.”  By that he meant that any turn of phrase or sentence you felt was precious to the piece of writing should be edited out by the final draft.  And while I don’t know if I believe that all ideas that seem to sparkle on first glance should be chucked in the trash, at the very least, they should probably be appraised by at least one other set of eyes.  This is actually one more piece of good advice when it comes to crafting a simulation.  Don’t do it alone.  If you are going to make a world which your students can actually inhabit, even if it’s only for a few hours, it’s best to recruit as many sets of hands as possible.  After all, we’re only human.         


Addendum:
There were a few reasons for why I really wanted to give this lesson a go in my class.  At least in the first half of the lesson, the methodology goes against most of my beliefs of what makes for good language teaching:
-          There’s extensive use of translation. 
-          Students produce discreet units of language which might or might not have any direct connection to one another. 
-          While the students are producing content, the teacher is in a very clearly authoritative role. 
In spite of the flawed way things turned out, I could see how all of these techniques for language teaching and learning could be put to good use in this particular lesson.  So don’t worry students, your suffering wasn’t for naught.  Next year, your teacher might have a few new tools to make class more enjoyable, even if you have no interest in ever becoming a UN Peace-Keeper.


Reference Works:

Kao, D. & O’Neill, C. (1998) Words into Worlds: Learning a Second Language Through Process Drama. Stamford, CT: Ablex Publishing Corporation

Bowell, P. & Heap, B.S. (2001). Planning Process Drama. London: David Fultone Publishers.

Tompkins, P.K. (1998). “Role Playing/Simulation”. The Internet TESL Journal 4 (8).

Jones, K (1985). Designing your own Simulations. London: Methane

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Do you really need it?

Hi all,

A big thank you to everyone for your support over the past two years. Realizing that this blog keeps growing and that the options for making it navigable with blogger are diminishing week by week, I've moved over to WordPress.  I hope this doesn't cause any unnecessary inconvenience.

The original article you are looking for is below this short message. After reading, if you have a moment to check out the new (and hardly changed) "The Other Things Matter", please drop in.  Would love to hear from you.






Recently I’ve been running some activities to try and get my students used to the fact that when it comes to listening, they just ain’t gonna hear everything that get’s said.  I'm lucky to be working with John Fanselow who is advising our schools.  He is unbelievably generous with his time.  He was telling me a story of how the old Bell Telephone Company put together a kind of clozed test to figure out the minimum number of relays they would have to install before reception degraded too much during a phone call.  Bell technicians (were they even called technicians way back then?) would phone people up and start talking, leaving out words in a set script.  And it turned out that there was no problem up to a certain point.  For example, if the Bell people called up Mr. Smoking-his-pipe-and-reading-the-evening-paper-guy and asked him, "What did you eat for ____ this evening?"  Well, Mr. SHP would maybe reply, "For dinner , son?  Well I had a nice steak!"  Mr. SHP didn't even seem to notice that the word dinner had been "dropped" from the sentence.  Of course now we have wonderful things like schema theory and ideas about top-down listening to make sense of what was going on.  But back in the 1940s, Bell Telephone was just happy to find out they could get away with less switches than they thought they needed and make even more money off of their telecommunications monopoly.
Now my students are about as far away from Mr. SHP as you can get.  They are hyper-vigilant listeners.  In fact, one could even say that their unending desire to hear every single sound that is uttered by a speaker (the bottom-up thing), is one of their biggest problems when it comes to understanding. And that's not the only issue facing them.  The way they listen, what they are listening for, is just not very useful when it comes to English.  If this kind of stuff gets your heart racing, check out Anne Cutler's article, "The comparative perspective on spoken-language processing" or maybe even my own totally unpublished and hence perhaps unreliable article.  So anyway, I wanted to get my students used to the idea that they didn't have to hear everything that was said, so I started doing a warm up dictation exercise in which I would leave out a few words or even in a sentence while trying my best to maintain the natural prosody of the sentence.  Basically I would end up saying something like this:

" mother read novels every night living room be go to sleep." 

And the students would write something like this:

                "My mother reads novels every night in the living room before going to sleep."

Now the thing about this activity I want you to remember, is that it was just a warm up.  I did 5 sentences in five minutes and then would call on students to read what they had written down and I would write it up on the whiteboard.  As time passed, students expressed to me how much they liked the activity and it became a regular feature of class.  I was pretty happy with the activity and the students level of engagement, so I took a video and sent it off to John Fanselow, who called me up and said, "Kevin, why are the students facing the board?"  (I bet you thought this was going to be another detailed lesson plan dressed up as a blog post again, didn't you?  Nope.)  Which was the first thing I learned from this episode.  What's the point of sending something off you are satisfied with if you think you're going to get praised?  If someone's going to be kind enough to put some time and effort into thinking about what I did in my class, I should be overjoyed that they have an idea to make it better.  But for some reason I wasn't overjoyed.  I was confused. 
"Where should they look John?"  I wasn't being smart by the way.  I had no idea where the students would look if not at the board.
"Out the window," John said.  "Have you ever had your students look out the window."
"Nope.  Never thought of it," I said.
I've observed enough classes to know that I can never know what is going to happen if I change this or that variable in a class.  And as John was obviously being sincere in his suggestion, that's what I did.  I went into class the next day and told all the students to turn their chairs around and look out the window.  And we did the same basic warm-up.  And you know what, when it came time to get the right answers from the students, I thought that it was kind of a waste of time to have one student say their answer if I couldn't write it up on the board.  And then I quickly realized that maybe having a student say their answer and writing it all up on the board was actually a big waste of time in general.  Instead I had them just exchange papers and see if there was anything different about what the person next to them had written.  Then I had them exchange papers again.  And again.  Finally I told them to get their own paper back and make any changes they wanted.  And then, just to see what would happen, I had the students all say their revised sentence at the same time.  And you know what, they all said their sentence with a lot more conviction than usual.
So the second thing I learned from this experience was you just don't know what you don't need unless you take it away.  The white board, that piece of white real-estate shinning at the front of the room, with it's alluring blankness, wasn't actually blank at all. It had filled up my class with all sorts of expectations and habits that I hadn't even noticed.  So I spent the rest of the class like that, no white board. 
Lately I've been reading Kevin Giddens posterous feed, "Do Nothing Teaching."  I dig it.  But I do think it's pretty hard to figure out what you don't need or don't need to do on your own.  Some things become so ingrained we don't even really think of them as an action anymore.  And if we don't think about them, we can't change them.  So a big thanks to John and to all the bloggers who are posting things to help bring my focus back to what I am actually doing moment by moment in the classroom.
As far as the rest of the no-white-board-lesson is concerned, well, I can't say that the rest of the class was perfect or anything, but at the very least, it was a sunny winter day and one of the students told me that the feeling of the sun coming in from the window felt good on his face.