(This incorporates themes and ideas from Chapter 6 of 'Values in English Language Teaching' by Bill Johnston and addresses Questions 4 and 5 from said chapter)
In the course of my teaching career, I’ve had a few
occasions in which I’ve had to make difficult choices. Whether the outcomes of
these choices were positive or negative, they’ve led me to grow as a person and
as a teacher. No doubt my most important
decision was leaving my old job. After teaching at my previous University for
four years, I was bored and not sure of what I wanted to do. While I was generally
happy with my work-life, I had started to feel a lack of serious forward
momentum and I yearned for a break from the same old routine. I had turned
thirty and didn’t know if I even wanted to stay in Korea or if staying here
would hurt my long-term career. In short,
I didn’t know what I wanted, but I concluded that four years was enough and I
needed a change.
However,
when I came home to the US, I realized I missed teaching. I would look at the
notes my students had left for me during my last days and feel empty inside,
like I left a part of myself behind. I came back to Korea and figured I could pick
up where I left off, but I hadn’t anticipated the dramatically tightened
job-market. Settling on a public school job, I felt angry at my hubris and
shortsightedness. Instead of taking a step forward, I thought I had taken two
steps back. My confidence had taken a serious hit too, and it was at this point
I realized to what extent your job could be personalized as a part of your
identity and self-worth. Enrolling in
STG was my way of grabbing on to something positive and believing in myself
again. I went for my TESOL certificate as a direct result of a negative choice
I made earlier. Through TESOL I am learning how to be a better teacher. If I
had decided to stay at my old University, would I have enrolled in TESOL?
Probably not. It’s often said adversity is the impetus for innovation and
growth, and that’s held true for me as well. Now, as my time here draws to a
close, I feel like I’m approaching some deeper truth about what being a teacher
means to me. It can’t be just a job, but an extension of you as a person.
In the past
when people have asked me why I want to be a teacher, I wouldn’t have a good
answer. What values drive us to dedicate our lives to this often un-rewarding
profession? Is it something as simple as wanting to help others? But if so,
then why not become a doctor or a police officer? Does the truth run deeper? In
the course of our development into the people we are today, most of us had good
teachers and bad teachers. You don’t remember the ones in the middle, but those
on either side of the spectrum influenced you and if you want to be an
educator, they can either serve as inspirations or warnings. The teachers who
listened to their students, helped them overcome their problems and ultimately
pushed them to their full potential, consequently left a lasting impact on their learners
years later. Unfortunately, so did the teachers who yelled too much and
sarcastically dismissed their students.
Johnston, quoting Allwright,
reiterates, “Teaching is about changing
other people.” (125). And if change is supposed to be for the betterment of
students, then the elements of that change must be morally justifiable from the
teacher’s point of view. And if the social aspects of our instruction is
informed by our individualistic views and moral core, then this brings up as
close to an existential question as one can have in education; what lasting
moral and social influence do you have on your students’ development? Through
your teaching, is a small part of your moral core passed on to your students?
Does a small piece of your self become a small piece of who your students will
grow into? And if so, do we have a responsibility not only to instruct
language, but to teach in a way that is true to who we are as individuals? If
we introduce an aspect of our moral core into our teaching, does it go from
simply helping, to changing and shaping other people? Is that a truth some of
us actively avoid confronting, because it could be perceived as narcissistic
and even selfish, an unseemly irony for a profession almost always associated
with selflessness and dedication to others? However, this simplified conclusion
is missing the point that becoming a teacher in order to change others means
you are trying to share the best parts of your selves and others (who, in turn,
changed you for the better when you were developing) in order to prompt your
learners and nourish their own awareness and growth.
Being a language instructor means the weight
of what we bring to the classroom is that much greater, since we are
ambassadors not only of our home-countries but of globalized culture in general.
If we focus on purely linguistic instruction and ignore connecting to our
learners on a human level, but approach them as a job requirement, we will not
be remembered as anything but a nameless face in a gallery of forgotten and
interchangeable ELTs. If we yell at students for lacking the proficiency to
understand our instruction and take delight in disciplining them or otherwise
raise their affective filter, we will be remembered, but as monsters who turned
them away for English during their most formative years. If, however, we have
awareness of who we are as teachers and use that to elicit social interaction
among the students in a meaningful manner that leads them to their own
intercultural and inter-language awareness, we can spark an interest in our
learners that will not only motivate their acquisition of English, but provide
them a window into our worldview, a perspective we alone bring to the
classroom. Our worldview puts them on a journey to understand their own.
It should be clarified, that your
worldview isn’t expressed by explicitly sharing your views, but passively
through the activities your students utilize for output in your class. More so,
our morals drive us towards the material we teach. What feels like a great
activity for me, may feel wrong for you and that’s why it’s not a good idea to
pull activities from the Internet and go into a classroom with them cold. If
you do use other ideas, you must adapt them to your own teaching-style and
personalize it to the needs of your class and what your students want as
learners and respond to as people. If I teach an exercise that I either don’t
believe has any intrinsic value for the students or is something that is not
representative of what kind of teacher I strive to be, I approach it
half-heartedly and lack confidence in carrying it out. Of course this has a
domino effect on the students’ own motivation and by a self-fulfilling prophecy
the class becomes a loss. I suspect many educators feel the same way about
leading a class in a way that is not in synch with who they are as a teacher.
This could also be why TESOL instruction might be hard to accept if we’re set
in our ways. It is not a product from our own moral core, but a series of new
and external ideas that could be seen as a threat to an aspect of a carefully
cultivated and developed identity; a challenge to who we are. However, it could
also be used as a tool for research that helps us grow as a teacher and it
doesn’t need to be in conflict with what we learned before, but used to further
refine or add to already established methods.
This
morality-based Western approach to teaching may clash with the straightforward
approach of traditional English teachers, especially those in the public school
system. In saying that, my intention is
not to malign all Korean teachers, as there are many fantastic ones, and even
the ones who focus on pure linguistic diction may do so out of conformity with
what their peers and employers expect, but rather I would like to be honest in
what I see as a system that lacks a human touch. Within the public school I
work, the emphasis is on units taught per class and not the learners’ output or
whether they learned anything. If a unit is taking too long or I, as a teacher,
try to lead it in my own direction I come into direct conflict with their
expectations that a certain amount of material is covered within the allotted
time. The Korean school system seems more focused on pleasing the parents of
the learners, than nurturing their growth linguistically, socially or
otherwise. Johnston emphasizes that comprehensible output must be allowed, and
it’s frustrating when that output must either be denied or cut short due to
inflexible orthodoxy enforced by people who have never stepped into these
particular classrooms or exchanged one sentence with any of these particular
students.
I do feel a
sense of marginalization compared to my previous job and that’s probably what
frustrates me the most. As the sole Westerner in my school, I lack colleagues
from my own culture, to share ideas with and give feedback to. For my Korean colleagues
within my school, they avoid discussing classes with me either because our
approaches and ideas differ so much, or they accept that as the truth even if
it may not be. Another factor is I’m outside their hierarchal social order,
neither higher nor lower than anyone else. Within my school I sometimes feel
like a non-person, one who has no voice in any of the decisions made by my
school, but also someone who can get away with breaks in orthodoxy easier than
the other workers there due to my perceived outsider status.
In one class, a Korean co-teacher
had started screaming at one student, drowning out my instruction to all the
students. Literally, she missed the forest for the trees, compromising the mood
of the whole class in order to settle the misdemeanor offense of a lone
student. I confronted her about this after class, but she didn’t seem to
understand the negative effect this has on the class’s ability to absorb my
instruction and my own ability to instruct. In her own way, she is asserting
what she thinks is the best way to teach, but it runs in direct opposition to
what I’ve grown to believe a teacher should be. Is this due to an absence of
her own moral core in teaching, or is this method actually a result of her
moral core? And if it is what she believes with her heart to be the right
approach in the classroom, are the values and beliefs of NETs due for an even
greater collision with those of the traditional teaching methods, as the latter
battles for survival and relevance in a quickly globalizing world? And what if
part of our purpose here is serving as a counterweight to traditional teaching
and perhaps an eventual victor over it? In learning the right way to teach, is
our next step telling our students what we consider to be the right way to
learn? All questions I’ll ponder as I transition to the next stage in my
development as a teacher.