The Many Faces of the Learner

On one end of the spectrum there may be one or two students in a class who to the teacher's delight have an energy and charisma that sweeps the class along in its wake. These students add to the positive chemistry of the learning environment and encourage the shyer student to risk taking a more active role. When these students are absent, a tangible change takes place in the class almost as if someone had punctured a balloon. But when they are present they invite light hearted joking, competition for answering questions, and provide added help for a struggling classmate. The other side of the coin, of course, is that this chatty student may monopolize all the Q and A time, or rush in with answers before his fellows have a chance to formulate the right word order for the answer they may readily know. A remedy that can be useful is the "five elephant" rule. I use this for many situations from discipline to ensuring I allow enough wait time for students to think of an answer. It's quite simple. If you silently think, "one elephant, two elephants, three elephants, four elephants, five elephants," you have effectively waited for five seconds. By teaching an overly exuberant student to count five or seven or ten elephants, you give other students a more level playing field. They also feel less in competition with the stronger student. This should be explained to the elephant student so they also feel appreciated and needed. It is wise to remember that the school experiences we offer this population might be their first beyond a few years of elementary school. The opportunities for them to be recognized and receive kudos may only exist within the four walls of our ESL classrooms.
The opposite side of the spectrum is the painfully shy student who looks as though he or she is getting ready to bolt at any given second. They may shrink into the woodwork if they think they might be called upon. The teacher can be very comforting and nurturing, but if the student walks in the door with a lot of excess baggage, our greatest allies are going to be kindness and time. I like to build an atmosphere of trust and some minor risk taking for the first few weeks of classes. I often tell my students that the best audience they will ever have in their lives is surrounding them at that very moment. When I ask questions, I use a failsafe method of stress relief I learned from a presenter some years ago. In the TV show, "Who wants to be a Millionaire," contestants are asked questions and given options if they don't know the answers. They may phone a friend, survey the audience, or have two of the possible answers removed. The first two work very well in a classroom. If a student can't answer, he can ask a classmate. If that isn't satisfactory, we can poll the rest of the class. It becomes a more of a game and the spotlight isn't focused brightly on an uncomfortable deer in the headlights student.
The most worrisome group I find in my classes are those I call the "invisible students." I can easily learn the names of the class clowns and the shrinking violets by the end of the first week. They stand out and have obvious needs. But what about the students who turn in the work, cooperate nicely in groups, then fade into the background out of sight and out of mind? It is very easy to allow them to continue on, passing quizzes, contributing to class, and not giving the teacher grief. But I wonder if they are receiving equal access to English learning. We tend to call on the people we are familiar with and the names we know. The invisible students are usually the last ones I commit to memory. A small solution has been to keep an index card printed with each students name. As I circulate around the room, I can call students equally as I go through the pack. I have learned from experience to shuffle the cards often as student anticipate the location of their name and pay attention accordinly. Another way of providing equal access to everyone is to hand out our trusty index cards (do invest in shares of this company) with the names of fruit or animals on matching pairs. As students enter, I hand out the cards and they must find their matching partner. Too often when students choose their own partners, they keep picking the same ones. By mixing the pot we equalize learning opportunities and afford a richer conversational experience for every student.

Can We Talk?
Research (not to mention common sense) tells us that to become proficient in a second language we need to practice speaking it. Often times in our ESL classrooms the teacher does a command teaching performance of explanations, modeling, assigning, anecdotes, and the list goes on. Unfortunately our captive audiences are only with us for a precious few instructional minutes each class session. Many times I feel like the class time has flown by and wonder how it could already be time to leave. When this happens, it gives me pause to think about how much teacher talk versus student talk took place. Time flew because I was having a good time, but were my students benefiting from our minutes as much as they could have been.
In the past few years I have revised both my teaching philosophy and the manner of transmitting my lessons to students. When I taught lower grade students I enforced strict rules of silence when tests were given. Lest someone be guilty of the major felony of CHEATING, I patrolled the aisles for any signs of miscreants. Today in my level three ESL class, we often share tests. Partners sit together and collaborate on answers. The answers may be correct or not but this is not a major concern. The important outcome is that they have actively engaged in speaking English, negotiated problems, and actually worked up a sweat making themselves understood in an authentic situation. Answers will be checked and corrected later. I tried this out as something of a lark in our summer session, and it was so successful that I now give many tests in this manner. Another change I’ve made is how I offer dictation practice. The research is somewhat mixed on the efficacy of even doing dictation with ESL students. In prior years I would do a dictation and have students share answers with each other, then put them up on the board for everyone to see and help correct if needed. At a TESOL conference a few years ago, a presenter suggested students dictate to each other, sitting face to face with file folders open and separating their work. This has been very successful and popular with the students. They still put the finished product on the board, but they have also spent much more time talking about it.
When giving instruction, or explaining a fine point of grammar I used to ask for questions, or carefully monitor guided practice for concerns. It occurred to me many years ago that there are levels of understanding and filters which construct insurmountable barriers between students and teachers. I was taking an advanced statistics class once and try as I might the figures wouldn’t line up, and the teacher’s explanations didn’t make sense no matter how many times he patiently explained. Luckily I had two good friends in the class who were also suffering. We decided that we could go on asking him the same questions and he would obligingly give us the same unintelligible answers. We tackled the problem together by meeting before class, each explaining the piece we understood. Voila! Oddly enough we each had enough of the whole to make sense and lead us to, if not complete mastery, at least a passing mark in the class. With this thought in mind, I began having students teach each other lessons I have just explained. I listen carefully for errors. I invite them to give examples on the board, and class discussions sometimes become very lively. Where in the past I was the sole dispenser of knowledge, students now are invited to share in information gathering and disseminating. They are taking responsibility for their own learning, and on a metacognitive level they can see what they need in ways I am not privy to.
I am always looking for ways to involve students more in the conversation through games, activities, discussions and learning situations. In answer to Joan River’s signature comedy routine, “Can we talk?” My students would respond with a resounding, “Yes we can!”

The Lowly Index Card

On the first day of a new semester I used to attach tape to each desk with an identifying letter and number, a-1, a-2, b-1, b-2 and so on. I didn’t scatter these randomly, but put them in a logical order to be located quickly. I waited at the door as students arrived and handed each one an index card with a seat number printed in the upper right hand corner. I greeted each student by saying, “Welcome to the first day of school, here is your reserved seat. Match this number with the desk bearing the same number.” Students were kept busy finding their “reserved” seats while I greeted their classmates at the door. This solved a couple of beginning term conundrums. The student didn’t have to worry about seeking a place to sit, and the teacher needn’t worry about troublesome couples upsetting the first day of class. I always shuffled the cards before handing them out so that people entering together would not be seated together. An added bonus is that I could arrange student placement exactly as I wanted without having a few shy students plastered against the back wall.
Once students were all seated, I had them fill out the information that would be useful to me in our class. This has changed over the years, but basically I asked for first and last names on the second line left side, their birthdate on the right side, and a nickname or “American” name at the top in the center. It has always been a helpful conversation starter to also have them skip a line and write down their interests and hobbies.
First day roll is very easy at this point. I could call out a seat number and have the student in that seat say their name. If it were difficult, I would repeat it until the student was satisfied I could say it correctly. Then I would make phonetic notes in my roll book so I never caused mispronouncing embarrassment or unwittingly saddled them with a silly new nickname their classmates would be certain to take note of.
Before the end of class I would collect all the cards and now had a readymade seating chart.
As the year progressed I used the cards to call on students equitably, as well as keep notes on speeches, homework, and contacts. To my surprise, my students were especially delighted when I called them by birthdate or personal interests instead of by name. It became a guessing game and added a lighthearted touch to our lessons. Incidentally I originally got the idea for index cards from a lecture by Harry Wong when I was a brand new teacher, circa 1987. His book, “The First Days of School” is a must for new teachers as well as old timers.
There is much more to be said and celebrated about the lowly index cards, but I will keep this entry dedicated to the first day. With ESL students my trusty cards are still a mainstay of my first day and become quite dog-eared by semester’s end. I now use a separate card with all students’ names to keep roll. I appreciate not lugging my roll book wherever I might be in a classroom. All the information I need is compact, portable and easily accessible. You might say, it’s all written in the cards.

The First Day of School

As a new teacher many years ago, I found the day before the first day school began to be one of nervous energy and a sleepless night. The classroom was decorated, class lists were at the ready, first day warm-ups and ice breakers all set up and conveniently located, I am ready. Bright and way too early the next morning twelve year old seventh graders file in on what will become the quietest day of the school year. We size each other up. The fellow slouching in the second to the last seat will be trouble, best learn his name quickly. The young lady smiling sweetly in the front row, and very eager to please. Aha, an ally, another name to remember. And so it goes. Teachers and students doing the beginning of the semester dance jockeying for power, acceptance, and ultimately in the teacher's case, control. Studies have shown that school children generally have two concerns in regard to their new teachers: will he/she like me, and how much homework will I have to do. This could ostensibly be generalized to the ESL classroom. In many ways students entering an ESL classroom bring with them the same fears that they harbored in their early school years. "Will I be able to do the work?" "Will the teacher embarrass me?" I've found that the more invested I am in my lesson plans and curriculum, the more difficult it becomes to make those all-important connections with my students. As teachers we do a delicate balancing act with a finite number of instructional minutes and the sometimes fragile egos of a diverse collection of English learners. I have come to the conclusion that the investment of these initial minutes in goodwill will pay great dividends down the line both in student attrition and overall success. Instead of doing the impersonal roll-call at the beginning of the first night of class, we will play a game. We will go over the syllabus, but only after I tell a little about myself. In the initial sizing up period, I hope students decide that this is a useful and safe place to learn English. It doesn't take long to make this choice. The experts tell us that in a job interview results are probably decided in the first two seconds. And it takes less time than that to remember to smile.

Focus on Homework

Several years ago one of my seventh grade boys waited after class and mournfully stated, “Mrs. Clarke, I can’t do all of your homework. It’s too much, I work hours and hours and it never gets finished.” I was somewhat taken aback, as I thought I was only assigning 30 or 40 minutes a night. After I had ascertained that he had a set time and place to do his assignments, I then gave him this instruction. “When you go home today, I want you to borrow your mom’s kitchen timer. As soon as you are ready to begin tonight’s homework, set the timer for 35 minutes. Set to work immediately and when it rings, you are done. Close your books. Now talk to friends on the phone, play video games, listen to music, or better still go outside and play. We will talk again tomorrow and see what adjustments need to be made to the homework.”
The next day I was most interested in seeing how my little experiment had turned out. My student came up to greet me at the beginning of the period and I enquired how much work he was able to complete in his 35 minutes. “All of it!” He fairly bubbled. “I finished it all before the timer even went off.”
There was no magic at work here. My little fellow had just never mastered the concept of time management. Many children are sent to their rooms to do homework in isolation. The implicit message being that they work until completion. It is rare parent who imposes a time limit on when they will no longer be banished. It is hardly a wonder that they seek solace in kid friendly amusements. Note, I did not put any stipulations on my student’s homework time distractors. The caveat that he well understood though, was that things such as phones, video games etc. would all be available after the timer rang—thus unavailable while it was in progress. Since his study time was cleared of the usual clutter of outside influences, his focus was on my English assignment and the slight pressure of the ticking of mom’s kitchen timer.
While this was successful with a middle school student, I think it can have larger implications for our adult student populations as well. Teachers often pleadingly exhort students to practice English outside of class. Research (and common sense) tells us that this sort of homework gives extraordinary growth in language learning. The majority of students want to practice, but lack of opportunity, shyness, time constraints, all conspire to let it fall, all too often, by the wayside. My conjecture is that if we gave them a “kitchen timer” type crutch rather than the open ended admonition to go out and practice, we would see improved results. While listening to the radio or TV students could translate or answer in English for a set length of time, perhaps 15 minutes to start. While driving home, sing along with a favorite song, but sing the lyrics in English. For reluctant readers, we might suggest they choose a book written in English and open it randomly and read a paragraph aloud, only one.
The key is that students see an end and not just a lengthy study session out of their comfort zone and out of their control. Most of us will tackle a disagreeable job with better attitude if the end is in sight. If we can show our students the end, they will have a much less difficult time beginning.