An Interview With a Fascinating ESL Student

(Note: The following is a report from an interview I conducted in November of 2009)

It can be a trying experience, to say the least, to be an outsider. There are those who, being a member of a minority population, are forever recognized as “different” from the dominant race or culture of an area, even if they have lived there for a lifetime. Such people can choose to embrace the dominant culture or embrace their largely unknown heritage. Then there are those who choose to leave their own home and travel to a new land, where the culture, values, and even the language must be learned anew. In effect, these people are restarting their lives. Sean is an extraordinary young man who has done both.

From his features and skin tone, it would be easy to assume that Sean is from the Indian subcontinent, and this is partially true. Sean’s family does come from the island of Sri Lanka, but his own story actually begins in Germany. Sean’s parents fled Sri Lanka about 25 years ago to escape civil war. Sean himself, while he identifies strongly with his Indian heritage, has never actually been to Sri Lanka -- yet. Born in Cologne, Sean has grown up as part of Germany‘s increasing multiculturalism. “You know, there are a lot of people from different countries: Turkey, Spain, Italian people, you know it was interesting, and I’m happy about that. It‘s hard to describe,” Sean admits, “but pretty much, I am a German. My parents are from India, I‘m from India, but I‘m also German.”

I have to admit, I was somewhat surprised to hear Sean’s description of German diversity and multiculturalism. I think that surprise was connected to my own education. Whenever Germany was brought up, it would be in history class, invariably in the context of World War II -- and the Germany we learned of there was NOT known as a bastion of diversity or multiculturalism. As open-minded I like to think of myself as, it was important to see how much of my own notions have been shaped by my schooling, which, in terms of cultural awareness, apparently had a long way to go.

Sean’s declaration of his nationality is important because, without knowing his background, it would be all too easy to categorize him in the “overcompensation” stage of acculturation. But we must remember that Sean is a second generation immigrant, having been born and raised in Germany. His upbringing, therefore, is exactly what we would expect from a family looking to acculturate. Sean learned German before learning Tamil (the official language of Sri Lanka), attended school with other German students (where he was often the only dark face in the room), and immersed himself in European culture (he traveled extensively through Europe before coming to America).

As a child growing up, Sean attracted quite a bit of attention. “It’s interesting for Germans who want to know where I’m from. I like to tell stories, because I’m open-minded about it.” This kind of attention can be overwhelming to some children, who withdraw from it and become introverts, like immigrants who regress to their native habits, but some can learn to embrace it. Sean chose the latter, and learned to be comfortable as a center of attention, never growing tired of telling his story to anyone who wanted to hear it -- which made him an ideal interview subject as well! Growing up in Cologne, Sean experienced racial tensions, but quickly learned not to let it bother him. “Growing up where I did, on the West side, people were very open minded. Sometimes I had some problems with black people, and I had some problems with white people, but I wouldn’t say they wanted to get in trouble with me because of my skin or something like that.”

And what about Sri Lanka? Sean has been interested in traveling there, but has so far decided against it for safety reasons -- the civil war Sean’s parents fled from has continued off-and-on to this very day, as the government tries to quell an insurgency led by the LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam). Even though the war was officially declared over last May, “The problem is that they‘re still looking for soldiers,” Sean explains, “And I’ve heard about the dangers of when people my age go there… they‘d probably try to keep me there,” presumably to be drafted into military service. Most educators, myself included, might take for granted that the students and their families have not always come to the US by choice, but to escape undesirable, even dangerous conditions.

Sean remains positive that he will visit Sri Lanka in the future. “There are two kinds of places there: The kind where my parents are from; the actual Sri Lanka, and the part for people on vacation, but that‘s not the part I want to see. If you want to know what a country is about, you have to go where the people are living. I want to know about my heritage, not about the tourists.” Sean’s interest in learning about other cultures (including his own) is an attitude which educators need to foster in their students.

Probably the single most recognizable identifier of a person’s culture is their language, and Sean’s unique cultural background has given him a similarly unique language background -- not just bilingual, but trilingual. In addition to German and Tamil, Sean explains, “Sri Lanka was a colony of England, so the Indians there spoke English. My parents do, and they taught me English before I had to take it in school.”

Sean clearly identifies German as his first language, but identifying his second language is tricky. Chronologically, Sean learned Tamil before English, but given the combination of formal and informal education, it would seem his English is stronger. “I can speak [Tamil] and understand it, but I can’t write it.” As for English, it became a school requirement from 5^th to 10^th grade. “I would say that is because it is a world language…to be a part of the world, part of the world economy, to do whatever you got to do, to know English is certainly not a bad thing.”

Learning language has always been important to Sean: “There are people born and raised in Germany who only speak German, just like there are people in America who only speak American. I’m trying to improve my language in every kind of field, so there’s a lot I still need to learn: In German, in English, in Tamil.” In addition, Sean is studying Spanish, adding an fourth language to his already-impressive lexicon. “If you’re really interested in learning English, or any language, you find ways to study out in the world,” Sean says, noting that many of his school teachers were not themselves native English speakers. “But if all you’re trying to do is survive the class, then it’s not going to stay with you.”

Sean was right, of course. And what he said applies not only to acquiring language, but to any subject -- if it’s not relevant, it’s not remembered. It was real world experience, not the classroom, that led Sean to a language breakthrough. “About a year ago, I was living and working in England,” he explains, “And I had to use English the whole time I was there. At first I had troubles, but after a while, I started to think in English, and even dream in English.” The importance of this change cannot be exaggerated to a linguist. Once Sean was out of formal classes, his only English instruction was through social interaction. It was here, not in the classroom, that Sean stopped translating English and started really speaking it.

Most experts on second language acquisition, including Suzanne Peregory and Owen Boyle, authors of Reading, Writing, and Learning in ESL, stress that true native proficiency cannot be attained in a classroom setting, but in interaction with native speakers. they therefore recommend that educators give their ESL students as much interaction as possible with native speakers. Sonia Nieto and Patty Bode’s Affirming Diversity also, through its case studies of individual students, illustrated that students relate to their peers far more than to the school. That is to say, what the students do with each other has far more of an impact than what the school does for them. Sean’s outgoing personality gave him plenty of opportunities for social interaction. Combined with a genuine desire to learn, Sean’s progress in multiple languages is impressive, but not at all surprising.

Language isn’t the only adjustment Sean has had to make; coming to America means adjusting to a different culture, different from the Sri Lankan traditions he grew up with at home, or the European customs he experienced in his travels. While he feels that he has been accepted, happy that most people don’t treat him as being any different, he has found Americans to be more isolated than most Europeans. “Many Americans have never even been outside America, not even to Canada or Mexico, and most Germans, even if they’ve never been to America, they’ve been, you know, all over Europe. In Germany, for example it‘s more important to speak several languages.” Sean also noticed more connectivity among Europeans than among Americans: “Most Americans will ask you how you’re doing, but honestly, they don’t really care. They’re just being polite. The Germans, if you say you’re doing good, but they see in your face that you don’t look happy, they will ask you, and -- even a stranger -- they will take the time to help you.”

This, more than anything else, is what stuck with me from my experience talking to Sean. As educators, and more fundamentally, as human beings, we need to connect with one another. There was a time when I was dissatisfied with my teaching career and seriously considered quitting -- in hindsight, I see that it was because I had lost sight of this simple truth: I don’t teach a subject; I teach kids. Whether they’re from Sri Lanka or Hoboken, my goal is to see each one of them as an individual with their own stories to tell -- and each one of them deserves to be heard as much as Sean.

References

Nieto, S., & Bode, P. (2008). Affirming Diversity: The Sociopolitical Context of Multicultural Education. Boston: Pearson Education.

Peregory, S. F., & Boyle, O. F. (2008). Reading, Writing, and Learning in ESL. Boston: Pearson Education.

Sri Lanka. (n.d.). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved November 15, 2009, from http://en.wikipedia.org/Sri_Lanka

Informal Reading Inventories -- a useful tool for ESL teachers.

For ESL teachers, an informal reading inventory (IRI) can be a useful tool in determining a student's position and progress in their English literacy, as well as determining a course of action for their future language development. A well-prepared IRI can help a teacher spot problems and prepare lessons accordingly.

For my first IRI, I worked with "Joseph" (not his real name), a 9th grade boy originally from the Dominican Republic who has been in America for about two years. The passage I chose came from "By the Waters of Babylon" by Stephen Vincent Benet. The comprehension questions, however, were written by myself.

Joseph's progress through the reading was satisfactory, pausing only at some of the longer words, and making relatively few errors. I was at first concerned about some of the longer words, and had considered abandoning the passage due to the "rule of five" – if there are five words in the passage that an ESL student might potentially stumble on, it shouldn't be used. But Joseph not only managed to successfully read the passage, but, when quizzed orally on the comprehension questions, was able to find the right answers within the passage and explain them to me in his own words. Joseph read a passage of almost 700 words with only five miscues, only one of which affected his comprehension. I would have to therefore conclude that both the vocabulary and the comprehension of the passage were at Joseph's independent level.

It is no easy task choosing an appropriate passage for an IRI, and finding the right one cased me a great deal of frustration. The reading should be of an appropriate age level, and the vocabulary should follow the "rule of five. The "rule of five" eliminated nearly my entire personal library, which included various textbooks from my English Literature and Grammar/Composition teaching days. The reason is simple enough to understand: The passages in those books were designed to be challenging for native speakers, to say nothing of an ESL student.

After much searching, I finally found an appropriate passage in the short story "By the Waters of Babylon." The story itself is compelling: We are introduced to the narrator, a young man from some sort of tribal society who must travel to "the Dead Places" as part of his initiation into his tribe. By the end of the story, the reader is made to understand that this "Dead Place" is actually the ruin of a great city -- most likely New York City -- and that this tribal society is actually living in some sort of post-apocalyptic future.

At this point, I would like to recommend Stephen Benet's "By the Waters of Babylon" as a short story for any class, mainstream or ESL, as well as a gripping read in its own right:

http://www.tkinter.smig.net/Outings/RosemountGhosts/Babylon.htm

What makes a passage appropriate for an IRI? Obviously, both the reading level and content should be age-appropriate, but I personally believe that the content should also be engaging. While non-fiction passages might be considered more suitable for IRIs, I find fiction to be more engaging. The standardized tests and sample IRIs I consulted contained suitable, if dull, passages about the Nile River, how bread is made, and a history of immigration in America from the 1860s to the 1920s. I chose instead to find something that would engage the reader and make him want to read further. I was rewarded when Joseph, at the end of the IRI exercise, asked me if I had the rest of the story for him to read -- confirming without a doubt that this was, in fact, on his independent reading level.

When it came time to write comprehension questions for the passage, I chose not to follow the textbook's guidelines, but instead compose my own questions with this overarching criteria: If I were to assign this passage in my class, what, if nothing else, would I want my own students to understand and remember from it? Keeping this in mind, I expected Joseph to be able to identify both main and supporting ideas from the passage, which he was able to do without any difficulty.

In the short time I spent with Joseph, I found him to be a bright boy who studies hard and gets good grades in school. I also pleased to hear that he prefers to read for leisure, usually in his native Spanish. What I learned from this IRI is that his English literacy is superb -- on par with nearly any native speaker in his age group. At the end of the session, I thanked Joseph for the session, and walked away with a new tool in my ESL repertoire, and with a promise to keep -- to send Joseph a copy of the entire short story.

My Philosophy of Teaching Writing

In one of my classes, when I needed a sample of my students' writing at the beginning of the year, I'd give them this statement: “The ability to write well is the most important skill for a person to have in order to succeed,” and have them either agree or disagree with it. I chose this statement because it was one that I originally agreed with wholeheartedly. However, in light of all that I have learned in pursuing my ESL degree, I have decided to amend it to read, “the ability to communicate well is the most important skill for a person to have in order to succeed.” I think that this new statement reflects an important truth that is all too often overlooked: that writing is a means to an end, and that “writing well,” should reflect this, and not be an end unto itself.

First hand experience has shaped my philosophy of teaching writing, crystallizing it into series of practical applications which have worked for me throughout my teaching career. However, because teachers should also be learners, I find it useful to study current research on teaching writing, looking for new ideas which should complement or even supersede my own.

It has long been a maxim of mine (one of my infamous “Laws of Literature” I plague my students with) that the best writers are the best readers. But this means more than simply being voracious readers and copying good technique on a “monkey see, monkey do,” basis. To be a good reader or a good writer, I believe that the most important skill one should have is a sense of organization. In writing, this means the ability to take a broad concept, break it down into smaller or supporting ideas, and present it in a manner that is easy to understand. I have stressed above all other things in my composition classes the pattern of introduction(thesis)/body/conclusion, explaining to my students that if they can at least mentally organize what they wish to say into a main idea, a list of details which support the main idea, and a way to wrap the whole thing up at the end, then the most difficult part of writing is all but done for them – the rest is simply a matter of making good writing better.

As readers, being aware of this fundamental pattern aids comprehension – after all, an author wants their work to be understood. And while fiction follows a different pattern than nonfiction, the important thing is that a pattern exists. Another of my Laws of Literature is that good readers should become skilled at spotting patterns.

The reading/writing connection cannot be stressed enough in the current research. “In reading, students create meaning from a given text. In writing, students generate texts in order to make meaning. . . Using similar thought processes as they read and write, students prepare themselves to read by drawing on their background experiences to create meaning; likewise, they prepare themselves to write by drawing on their background experiences to generate meaning” (Moore-Hart, 2010).

Good writers also need to be good critical thinkers, especially when it comes to what to include in their writing. Again, I've found that a foundation in organization helps students be more discerning. Having a thesis and knowing exactly what an essay is supposed to support helps students separate the essential from the trivial. I've done exercises with students where I'll put a topic on the board and ask students to come up with a thesis statement, and then have them discuss possible approaches to writing an essay. “Remember the thesis,” I remind them, “no matter how interesting your idea is, if it doesn't support the thesis, you don't need it... at least, not for this essay. Save it for another time.” Some students find it difficult at first; they don't like having to abandon a good point or a well-expressed idea, but again, writing is not done for its own sake; it's a means to communicate, and for the message to get through clearly, it needs to be organized.

In responding to student writing, I believe it is important to balance support and encouragement with constructive criticism. In my interactions with students, I always make an effort to point out or accentuate something positive about the student's writing first when talking to them directly, and in some conspicuous way when making written comments. The reason for this is simple: writing, especially for ELL students, can be a daunting and frustrating task. Without encouragement, students will shut down.

In my first years of teaching, my students noticed a pattern quickly. I would begin with some praise for their work, and they would interject with the “but...” that they knew was coming. Even though they did it in jest, it caused me to reevaluate the very language I used when discussing students' work, and the corresponding attitude that went alongside it. I realized that “such-and-such is good, but you need to remember to...”, still drew attention to a student's flaws. The attitude I wanted to convey, one which would help students become more comfortable and confident with their writing, had to be more along the line of, “this is good; here's how you can make it better...” The word “but” may seem like a minor detail, but I found that eliminating it from my responses to students' papers made a difference: perhaps it was that they listened to me with a little less dread, because they were no longer waiting to hear about their mistakes, but about ideas they could use.

On a side note, while I do believe in providing encouragement, I do believe that it can be taken too far. In an article from the Telegraph, school districts in the United Kingdom and Australia had actually banned the use of red ink for marking papers, because, as one administrator put it, “Red pen can be quite de-motivating for children. . .It has negative, old school connotations of 'See me' and 'Not good enough'.” As much as I can appreciate concern for students' well-being, I'm just old-school enough to draw the line here – in bright red ink.

What bothers me about such overly politically correct “solutions” is that the assume that encouragement (as well as discouragement) comes to students primarily from evaluation, when the research shows that every aspect of the writing process needs to be carefully thought out in order to provide the most encouragement for students. In particular, the research shows that students must be made aware that not only are they all potentially talented writers, but that they all have something worth writing about. I encourage my students in make connections between the topic of their essays and their own opinions, experiences, etc. Not only did this enhance the quality of their writing (I was getting bored reading the same summaries of the same story 25 times), but it also motivated them to write more, as they were no longer cornered into writing only about a story or poem that they may or may not have grasped, but about themselves. People, as a general rule, know and are interested in themselves, and giving them an outlet for self expression means we can “tap the human urge to write If we help students realize that their lives are worth writing about, and if we help them choose their topics, their genres, and their audience” (Calkins, 1994).

I've only recently began teaching ESL students, but I think my experience in teaching World Literature has already given me enough of an appreciation of other cultures that I've developed what Birch (2004) described as an ecological, as opposed to a colonial/imperialistic ideology. Every culture, and every language that comes from it, has a meaningful contribution to make to society as a whole. Language is not a hierarchy, with any one being better or worse than any other.

Birch recognizes the existence and prevalence of language prejudice in society, and I have had class discussions on the matter: “Like it or not,” I say, “you are going to be judged by the way you speak and write.” People expect a certain type of language in a certain situation, and in a classroom situation, that type is academic English. In my first years, I taught in a predominantly urban high school, with students who were self-described as “ghetto.” During one class discussion, a students used a colloquialism, and then stopped and corrected herself, apologizing for “not speaking proper.” I told her that there was nothing to apologize for. “You didn't say anything wrong; that's only a mistake if you put it in an essay.” By the time they reach high school, most students already have an understanding of what academic English is, and mine were delighted at my belief that it was not inherently better than their own speech, just a tool that needed to be used in certain situations. I actually preferred hearing students not using Academic English in class discussions – it's a sure sign that they've understood the material when they can describe it in their own terms.

Because I believe in writing as a means to an end, and not an end in itself, I find myself more lenient in matters of evaluation than some of more veteran colleagues. As much as I've tried to force myself to be more stringent, I have found that many students pick up organization quickly, which I consider to be paramount, but struggle with the mechanics – grammar, spelling, vocabulary, transitions, etc. Their message was clear and concise, but the means with which they expressed it were lacking. It's difficult for a teacher to be able to attach appropriate weight to all the essential functions of writing without a rubric, and writing one can be as daunting for a teacher as the actual essay is for the student. I've gone through several, both homemade and borrowed from other educators, until I found one that works for me at the grade level I traditionally teach. It has seven categories, four of which deal with organization and expression, three of which cover the mechanics. It has helped me grade fairly without overlooking any necessary skills that students need to develop.

At least the research backs up one suspicion I've had for a long time: separate drills and lessons are not an effective tool for teaching grammar. Weaver (1996) said as much in her study on grammar instruction. “Little research on the teaching of mechanics has been done, but the available evidence does not offer much reason to be optimistic about teaching grammar as an aid to avoiding or correcting errors” supports what has become almost intuitive in education today: lessons without context, without real-world applications, lack meaning. There is no call to drill students on the functions of a gerund or a participle phrase without a chance for the student to actually apply it in their own writing. Without an immediate use for the grammar instruction, the lessons are abstract, nearly impossible to apply, and often the first to be forgotten.

I still believe that the ability to communicate well is the most important skill a person needs in order to succeed. I further believe that as teachers, we have an obligation to guide our students to that success. As one who has spent many an evening hunched over a stack of essays, red pen in hand, I know from experience the drudgery involved. Imagine how it feels from the other end, being the one who has to write essay after essay for professor after professor! Students must be encouraged to persevere, knowing that self-expression is well worth the effort. They must know that they have ideas that are worth sharing, that their thoughts, feelings, and opinions help, not hinder, the writing process, and that the teacher is there to support, not to accuse. All told, it's a tall order. But as teachers, we know what the rewards are, and know the importance of finding the most effective ways to guide our students – in writing, and in everything else.

References

Birch, B. (2004). Learning and Teaching English Grammar K-12. New York: Prentice Hall.

Calkins, L. (1994). The Art of Teaching Writing. Portsmouth: Heinemann.

Marking in Red Ink Banned in Case it Upsets Schoolchildren (2008, Dec. 26). The Telegraph. Retrieved from http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/3964683/Marking-in-red-ink-banned-in-case-it-upsets-schoolchildren.html

Moore-Hart, M. (2010). Teaching Writing in Diverse Classrooms K-8. Boston: Pearson.

Weaver, C. (1996). Teaching Grammar in Context. Portsmouth: Heinemann.

Criticism of the Critical Period Hypothesis

The field of linguistics lacks a unified, agreed-upon theory regarding language acquisition. However, the Critical Period Hypothesis has gained a great deal of support in the linguistics community over the years, although the support is far from universal. Even so, there is strong evidence to support the CPH in L1 acquisition as well as L2. Although the L2 data is perhaps not so clear, it is compelling.

Testing the CPH in L1 acquisition is difficult to say the least, due to ethical rules. Given that human testing is all but out of the question, how can scientists properly compare L1 acquisition at different ages? When the opportunity arises, it often does by accident, as it did in the case of the young girl known as “Genie.”

Horrifically abused and isolated in her early childhood, Genie had reached the age of ten without having ever learned language. Could a child so far past her critical period still learn to speak an L1 fluently, if at all? The end results were not encouraging: Genie learned to communicate only in the most rudimentary terms, and never, even as an adult, learned to speak coherently (Secret of the Wild Child, 1997).

Genie’s case provides some concrete evidence for the CPH insofar as L1s are concerned -- there does seem to be an innate ability for people to learn language at an early age, while the brain is still developing. Once the critical period has been passed, the brain, like dried clay, becomes far less malleable. But how then does the CPH factor into L2 learning? Is there a critical period for acquiring L2, when is it, and what happens to those who attempt to learn L2 past it? There is far from a consensus on any of these questions, but the research supports a few possible answers.

Traditional thinking has held that students who learn L2s earlier in life fare better than those who start later, even as adults, and such thinking supports the CPH for L2s, although Marinova-Todd, Marshall, and Snow went about challenging such a “misconception,” citing research that illustrated that adult learners actually progress faster in learning an L2 than younger learners, even they were forced to admit the adult learners did show lower proficiency overall. This, presumably combined with the faster rates of learning, were enough to cause them to doubt the CPH in regard to L2 learners (2000).

It was this conclusion which drew the attention of other researchers, who were quick to point out the fact that CPH addressed not speed of learning, but results. Hyltenstam and Abrahamsson blasted Marinova-Todd et al. for discounting the CPH despite the fact that the adult speakers never attained native-like proficiency, which is exactly what the CPH predicts would happen (2001). In this way, comparing younger L2 learners to older ones is like comparing the tortoise and the hare: adult learners may move faster, but speed is irrelevant if one never reaches the finish line. Slow and steady truly does win the race.

In this particular race, however, finding the finish line is not so simple as one might assume. Vivian Cook noted that the goal of L2 learning is usually to emulate a native speaker, essentially defined as someone who learned the target language as L1. This goal is rarely stated explicitly, but there nonetheless, and sets an unrealistic goal for an L2 learner, who is faced with a far more daunting and complicated mental task than the L1 native. This is an unrealistic goal which teachers, particularly Language Arts teachers such as myself, should be wary of.

Cook then went on to identify what is probably the most common difference between an early L2 learner and a later one, and indeed, what may be seen as the definitive mark of an L2 speaker: their accent. Too often, the sign of a foreign accent is seen as a mark of a failure or shortcoming, when the implicit goal is to completely hide any trace of the L1 in an accentless L2. There is a famous literary example of this in Bram Stoker’s classic novel Dracula, where the count requests that Jonathan Harker tutor him in English. When informed that he already speaks fluent English, Dracula responds:

“Well I know that, did I move and speak in your London, none there are who would not recognize me as a stranger. That is not enough for me. [. . .] I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he sees me, or pause in his speaking if he hear my words, to say, ’Ha, ha! A stranger!’ I have been so long master that I will be master still -- or at least that none other should be master of me.”

Art imitates life: Stoker, as Cook would do a over century later, identified language pronunciation as a mark of being somehow “behind” or “inferior to” a native speaker, precisely because it identifies the speaker as foreign. It should be noted that Cook also cites a literary precedent for her theory: a publicized feud between authors Virginia Woolf and Joseph Conrad. The accent, a product of pronunciation and phonology, seems to be the aspect of L2 acquisition most affected by age. I have come to this conclusion through personal experience with two exemplary L2 speakers.

I first taught Olivia as a high school freshman, and later as a senior. Her speaking, reading, and writing skills were near the top of her class. It was only during a parent/teacher meeting, when I first met Olivia’s mother, that I learned that Olivia’s family had emigrated from Greece when Olivia was about five years old, and that Greek, not English, was actually Olivia’s first language. I learned this information after a moment of stunned silence on my part when Olivia (who spoke fluent English with no accent I could detect), turned to her mother (who spoke English with a moderate accent), and carried on a conversation in fluent (as far as I could tell) Greek. Here was a child who had accomplished true native-like proficiency in an L2.

Another former student of mine, Cho, came to America from South Korea about a year before entering high school. When I first encountered him during his senior year, I found him to be a diligent student and a talented writer, although self-conscious about his accent. I later learned that while he had formally studied English as a child, it was not until his family came to America that he truly had an opportunity to immerse himself in the language and use what he had learned regularly.

Both Olivia and Cho turned out to be “A” students, but because Olivia had begun her L2 acquisition while she was still in her critical period for her L1, she had an advantage over Cho, which I believe shows strong support for a critical period in L2, perhaps not too far from the L1 critical period. Of course, there were other factors at work, chief among them time; Olivia had close to a ten-year head start on Cho in L2 acquisition. Cho didn’t speak “native-like” English, nor did I expect him to. Rather, I taught him on his level, and worked to make small adjustments towards improving his use of English. My study of CPH tells me that what I was doing instinctively was the right course.

There are numerous other factors to consider beyond the critical period which will help or hinder an L2 learner’s acquisition. Certainly, living in an area where the L2 was commonly spoken would have an impact (Marinova-Todd et al., p. 25), as would being well-motivated to excel in L2 (p. 26). While nobody can reasonably ignore the impact of environment and motivation in L2 (or any) education, Genie’s story shows that even the most well-structured learning environment possible, combined with well-motivated instructors and student, cannot overcome the hurdle placed by missing the critical period (Secret of the Wild Child, 1997).

Something I personally need to look for in my future teaching practices will be to make sure education, particularly for my L2 students, is not confined to the classroom. Bringing school activities home and involving parents in the child’s L2 development have been widely successful (Peregory and Boyle, 2008). In addition, students have been well-motivated when offered opportunities to use their L2s in a meaningful, relevant way, such as through conversations with teachers or fellow students (Lightbrown and Spada, 2006). The goal seems to be to emulate genuine interaction as much as possible, and steer away from traditional classroom drills which are largely ineffective because students have no reason to be engaged. This must be my goal as a literature teacher: making lessons relevant to my students, for example, by including authors and works form their own cultures -- even suggested by the students themselves.

On the high school level, it’s most likely that my students have passed their critical period for L2. With that in mind, I need to set realistic goals for their language acquisition. They may never speak English as well as I do, but I must understand that this is not the goal -- communication is.

References

Cook, V. (1999, Summer). Going Beyond the Native Speaker in Language Teaching. TESOL Quarterly 33(2), 185-209

Garmon, L. (Producer & Director). (1997). Secret of the Wild Child [film]. Boston: WGBH

Hyltenstam, K., & Abrahamsson, N. (2001, Spring) Comments on Stefka H. Marinova- Todd, D. Bradford Marshall, amd Catherine E. Snow’s “Three Misconceptions About Age and L2 Learning.” TESOL Quarterly, 35(1), 151-176

Lightbrown, P. M., & Spada, N. (2006). How Languages are Learned. Oxford: Oxford UP.

Marinova-Todd, S., Marshall, D., & Snow, C. (2000, Spring). Three Misconceptions About Age and L2 Learning. TESOL Quarterly, 34(1), 11-34

Peregory, S. F., & Boyle, O. F. (2008). Reading, Writing, and Learning in ESL. Boston: Pearson Education.

Stoker, B. (1998) Dracula. New York: Barnes and Noble Books.

Multiculturalism in Literature is Anything but New.

It would be understandably easy to assume that the drive for multicultural awareness is a recent phenomenon, spurred on by a combination of increased knowledge and awareness of other cultures and a heightened sensitivity brought on by political correctness, but this is not necessarily the case. Authors both past and present have looked to other cultures as sources of inspiration for their great works, and while their attempts to portray peoples from other places and cultures have not always been accurate, their use has opened readers' eyes and piqued their curiosities to worlds and lifestyles far different from their own, yet not nearly as far away as one would imagine.

This is not to say that every cross-cultural encounter depicted in literature is positive, just as not every case of it in reality is. The sad truth is that historically speaking, many intercultural encounters have been those of war, strife, and subjugation. It has long been a maxim of mine that history is written by the winners, more often than not to justify their treatment of the losers. Literature also often follows this rule. One need look no further than the British Empire to see the relationship between ruler and subject expounded and justified in fact and in fiction.

But it is occasionally through such writings, and a deeper exploration of an author's ethnocentrism and nationalism, that a new perspective on intercultural relations can be witnessed. Such is the case in the writings of Rudyard Kipling. Although Kipling's most famous work, The Jungle Books, has long been relegated to the status of children's literature, those familiar with Kipling know that he was a fierce nationalist and staunch supporter of British imperialism. Armed with this knowledge, Nyman (2001) reexamined Kipling's work as an allegory of British colonialism. The results were intriguing.

Nyman's theory revolves around the idea that not only is the relationship between the animals and the humans in The Jungle Books is an allegory of that between the British colonies and Britain itself (a theory I myself have noticed in the various stories what make u the novel), but also the very nature of the jungle itself as an allegory. By itself, the jungle is chaotic, lawless, and deadly, and needs a set of rules placed over it to bring order out of chaos. It is the character of Baloo the bear who teaches these laws to Mowgli, the human boy who finds himself orphaned and adopted by a pack of wolves.

As Nyman puts it, “one of the main issues in the text is the conflict between orderly colonialism and anarchic nativism. When the bear teaches the wolf people the principles of the Law of the Jungle, Kipling's text seeks to construct culture in the natural space of the jungle, contributing to the colonialist project's attempt to subordinate natural to imported law.” In other words, The jungle represents the undeveloped world, which requires law and order to be imposed on it not only for the subjects themselves to thrive (for Baloo teaches the Law of the Jungle to all the animals) but so that England (represented by the human – Mowgli) can civilize it through subjugation.

This is exactly what happens in the Mowgli stories of The Jungle Books: Mowgli's adopted wolf pack, seduced by the tiger Shere Khan's promises of fresh food, turn away from the Law of the Jungle and betray Mowgli. It is only after Mowgli temporarily returns to the human world that he finds the tools to defeat Shere Khan on two separate occasions: First, by scaring the tiger away with fire (stolen from a nearby village), and finally killing him in a later story by trampling him with a stampeding herd of cattle (stolen form the same village). With Shere Khan dead and his native influence broken, Mowgli returns to the wolf pack which had adopted and rejected him, and assumes leadership. Thus is England, armed with English tools and ideals, able to bring law and order to an untamed land in order to rule it.

Kipling's untamed nationalism is not confined to The Jungle Books, but is a constant theme in much of his work. Indeed, it is his imperialistic streak which colors two of his more famous poems, “Gunga Din” and “The White Man's Burden.” “Gunga Din,” a narrative poem from the point of view of a British soldier in India, who at first mocks the titular water-carrier, but later praises him when he saves the soldier's life at the cost of his own, is described in Benet's Reading Encyclopedia as “an extremely well-known poem, like much of Kipling's work, it strikes the modern reader as paternalistic, racist, and reflecting the jingoism of the era.” These qualities were downplayed, but by no means eliminated, when “Gunga Din” was made into a major motion picture in 1939. The film version casts a suspicious eye on British imperialism, making the “villains” a bit more sympathetic than audiences would have been used to from films of the genre, as Jaher (2008) notes in his examination of the film. 'You have sworn as soldiers, if need be, to die for your country, your England. Well, India is my country and my faith, and I can die for my faith and my country as readily as you for yours.' These are the words, not of an Indian nationalist hero, but of the "Thug Master," arch villain in the film.

Jaher opens his review with these words to show how Hollywood ( and by extension, America) was growing disillusioned with Imperialism and saw the first glimmers of virtue in an independent India.

Jaher goes on to explain that while the British in India had been a popular theme for exotic adventure movies of the day, “Gunga Din” was different because “Suddenly a film in this series was introducing reservations about the British Empire and implicitly recognizing the legitimacy of the impulse toward Indian independence, which had dramatically intensified during the 1930s.” Released in 1939, during the early days of WWII, didn't help matters either: “The film also prefigured American sympathy for this impulse, a sympathy that would cause wartime controversy between London and Washington.” Put simply, with India struggling for independence, and with the world witnessing the potential rise of a violent new imperialism in the Nazis, Hollywood was, as Jaher put it, “ready to look more critically at British hegemony. America had become a superpower; Britain, weakened in World War I, was already in decline. The modification of Hollywood's British-Indian epic was imminent.” So the film version of “Gunga Din” took a slightly different turn than the original poem. Kipling, who died in 1936, most likely would not have approved.

However, from a racial/ethnic standpoint, no single work of Kipling's has drawn more criticism than “The White Man's Burden.” This poem, shortly before it was first published in 1899, was originally mailed to Theodore Roosevelt shortly after he had been elected governor of New York. Kipling and Roosevelt were personal friends at the time, and both the poem and the letter were part of Kipling's strong urge for Roosevelt to convince the US government to rule over the Philippines (which it had just wrested from the Spanish) in the same manner that England ruled over its own colonies. The theme of the poem itself is self-evident: It is “the white man's burden” to bring culture and civilization to non-white nations. As Brantlinger (2007) describes it:

In September [of 1898] he had written to Roosevelt: “Now go in and put all the weight of your influence into hanging on permanently to the whole Philippines. America has gone and stuck a pickaxe into the foundations of a rotten house and she is morally bound to build the house over again from the foundations or have it fall about her ears.” “The White Man’s Burden” repeated this advice, adding a more abstract message about the white race’s superiority and responsibility to the Filipinos and the other nonwhite peoples of the world.

Kipling's message may have been abstract, but there was absolutely nothing subtle about it. As Brantlinger notes, “Few poems have been more frequently cited, criticized, and satirized than “The White Man’s Burden.” It has served as a lightning rod for both the supporters and the opponents of imperialism, as well as of racism and white supremacy.” Brantlinger goes on to explain how the poem has been used by various sides at varying times in history to either condemn or justify imperial racism, even to the point of whitewashing (no pun intended) history:

In one of his columns for the New York Times, a piece entitled "The White Man's Burden", economist Paul Krugman notes that Bush and other neoconservatives who regard America's conquest and colonization of the Philippines as a model for what will hopefully transpire in Iraq might learn something if they paid attention to history. No evidence exists, Krugman says, to suggest that "control of the Philippines made us stronger" in strategic terms. And "the economic doctrines that were used to justify Western empire-building during the late 19th century. . . turned out to be nonsense. . . Calling "The White Man's Burden" "the perfect epitaph for the Bush administration", blogger Sharon Jumper adds: "Bush is such a neanderthal, however, that were he to read the poem, he would likely think it laudatory of his current policies."

Truly, those who don't know history, or worse, mistake jingoist poetry for history, are doomed to repeat it.

While nationalistic writers such as Kipling sought to promote the colonization and “Englishifactaion,” as it were, of foreign cultures, other authors, ones who, perhaps, had some experience on the business end of colonization, wrote from a different perspective. Arata (1990) discovered, hidden within the pages of arguably the most famous Gothic horror novel of all time, a chilling warning about the dangers of what he called “reverse colonization.” Put simply, as England sallies forth to bring English “civilization” to far-flung cultures, it was unwittingly inviting those same cultures back into England, where it would corrupt the culture from within. The novel in question is none other than Bram Stoker's 1897 novel Dracula.

While most people associate Dracula with Transylvania (a region in the eastern half of what is now Romania), it would surprise people unfamiliar with the story to learn the bulk of the story actually takes place in London. Count Dracula, himself a Romanian nobleman, has bought up houses throughout London, presumably to move on to greener pastures. Only a select few group of people – including Jonathan Harker, the real estate lawyer who originally sold Dracula the properties, have discovered the Count's true nature and set out on a desperate quest to stop him before he brings his “curse” into the heart of England itself.

Arata sees Dracula not only as a supernatural story, but one rife with political allegory, beginning with Stoker's choice to connect Cunt Dracula to Transylvania:

Transylvania was known primarily as part of the vexed “Eastern Question” that so obsessed British foreign policy in the 1880s and 1890s. The region was first and foremost the site, not of superstition and Gothic romance, but of political turbulence and racial strife. . . By moving Castle Dracula there, Stoker gives distinctly political overtones to his Gothic Narrative.

If we, as Arata did, see Count Dracula as a threat not because of his vampirism, but because of his foreignness, then the appeal of Dracula's horror is not just a supernatural one, but a cultural one. Count Dracula is a symbol of the foreign influences that England has all but invited into its own home which will eventually destroy it. It is then no coincidence that one of the lesser-known pieces of vampiric folklore is that a vampire cannot enter a person's home unless he is first invited inside. If Stoker had been aware of this bit of mythology (and there's no reason to believe that he did not), then his use of a vampire as his monster of choice is uncannily appropriate.

It seems very possible, as Arata suggests, that Stoker's overwhelming success with Dracula is due in part to his (either deliberate or accidental) tapping in to the political and social anxieties of his time. Halberstam (1993) takes Arata's analysis a step further by explaining how vampirism is an ideal metaphor for the weakening of England:

In Dracula, vampires are precisely a race and a family that weakens the stock of Englishness by passing on degeneracy and the disease of blood lust. Dracula as a monster/master parasite feeds upon English wealth and health. He sucks blood and drains resources; he always eats out.

But Halberstam differs from Arata by seeing Dracula as a symbol not of a foreign cultural threat, but of a subculture already present within English society, and a time-honored scapegoat: the Jews:

Dracula, then, represents the Jew of anti-Semitic discourse in several ways: appearance, his relation to money and gold, his parasitism, his degeneracy, his impermanency and lack of allegiance to a fatherland, and his femininity.

Whether the threat came from without (as Arata suggests) or within (as Halberstam suggests), Dracula can be read not as a struggle of humanity against damnation, but of the British struggling against unknown foreign forces. This, might explain how a Gothic horror novel (never a literary genre taken seriously by literary scholars) penned by an author who never saw success before or since (it should also be noted that Stoker himself was Irish, and therefore no stranger to British imperialism) somehow managed to not only touch the zeitgeist of Victorian England, but become such a integral part of our collective consciousness today.

It would be easy to see the Middle East (much of which were British colonies at one point in time or another) solely as either the victim of colonization or the retaliator, but it was, interestingly enough, an American author who decided to turn the tables by making this area the aggressor. George Alec Effinger's When Gravity Fails (1986) was a novel which turned the power struggle inherent in colonial relations upside-down by making the Middle East the dominant world power in the not-too-distant future. This science fiction novel was a one of the lesser-known forerunners of the “cyberpunk” sub-genre of science fiction, which focused on high technology in the hands of street-level thugs and criminals (William Gibson's Neuromancer, published in 1984, is widely credited with inventing the genre).

In When Gravity Fails, Marid Audran is a private investigator working in “The Budayeen,” a walled up quarter of an unnamed Muslim city where sin and vice is tolerated, in the near future. He is hired by one of the city's most powerful and influential people to track down a serial killer who is using cybernetic enhancements to hide his identity from the police. Although his religious beliefs prohibit it (Marid is self-described as a less-than devout Muslim), he is eventually pressured by his employer to become enhanced himself so that he may track down the killer, and eventually face him on equal terms.

It is Effinger's use of a Muslim city and culture which sets When Gravity Fails (as well as its two sequels, A Fire in the Sun and The Exile Kiss) apart from other novels of the genre, most of which almost exclusively take place in either American or Japanese locales (where the focus on technology is more easily apparent). Indeed, the European world is hardly mentioned at all in Effinger's Budayeen novels, except occasionally in passing, usually in terms of some sort of social-economic decline. As Gramlich (1996) wrote: “The book marks one of the few times that a complex, accurate, and believable Muslim world has been constructed as a backdrop for a science-fiction novel.” Many cyberpunk authors choose not to explore the moral or ethical implications of the technology in the worlds they create, preferring to have both characters and readers alike accept it without question, but Effinger was at least able to open the door into questions of how a culture as devoutly religious as Islam reacts to a world where bionic limbs, sex-change operations, and electronically-altered minds are commonly used for business and pleasure. Given Samovar's (2010) words that “Simply put, Islam is 'a total way of life, pervading every aspect of a believer's day to day behavior in the narrow sense,'” it would have been an interesting exercise if Effinger had explored the paradoxical relationship between Islam as an overarching cultural influence and the fast-paced world of the cyberpunk genre in more detail. Unfortunately, Effinger never delved particularly deeply into these questions, neither in his trilogy or in any of the other Budayeen stories and novellas he wrote up until his death in 2002.

Kipling's work is often classified (incorrectly, due in part to Walt Disney) as children's literature. Stoker is often dismissed as a one-hit wonder in horror. Effinger is often overlooked in the cyberpunk subgenre of science fiction. And yet, in all three authors, we see a stunning portrayal of foreign culture, often with British colonization as the backdrop. Perhaps it is precisely because these authors worked in genres which usually aren't given serious scholarly notice that they were able to smuggle in their social commentaries and vivid depictions of foreign cultures to their audiences. It has been said that the goal of an author is not so much to write a story as it is to crate a world, but it should be noted that sometime the worlds that are “created” are not nearly as far away as we think.

References

(1996). Gunga Din. Benet's Reader's Encyclopedia, 435. Retrieved from Literary Reference Center database.

Arata, S. (1990). The Occidental Tourist: Dracula and the Anxiety of Reverse Colonization. Victorian Studies 33(4).

Brantlinger, P. (2007). Kipling's "The White Man's Burden" and Its Afterlives. English Literature in Transition, 1880-1920, 50(2), 172-191. Retrieved from Academic Search Premier database.

Gramlich, C. (1996). When Gravity Fails. Magill’s Guide to Science Fiction and Fantasy Literature, Retrieved from Literary Reference Center database.

Halberstam, J. (1993). Technologies of Monstrosity: Bram Stoker's Dracula. Victorian Studies 36(3).

Jaher, F., & Kling, B. (2008). Hollywood's India: The Meaning of RKO's Gunga Din. Film & History (03603695), 38(2), 33-44. Retrieved from Film & Television Literature Index with Full Text database.

Nyman, J. (2001). Re-Reading Rudyard Kipling's 'English' Heroism: Narrating Nation in The Jungle Book. Orbis Litterarum, 56(3), 205. Retrieved from Literary Reference Center database.

Samovar, L.A., Porter, R.E., & Stefani, L.A. (2009). Communication between cultures. Boston: Wadsworth.

Shamburg, J. (2000). D2K: Bram Stoker's Dracula and the collapse of Victorian Society at the Fin-de- Siecle. (Master's Thesis). Montclair State University, Montclair, NJ.

An excellent ESL text -- and it's free!

One of the best-written and most useful ESL texts I've seen in a while -- Fiction in Action: Whodunit? has something else going for it: The publishers have released the entire text online as a .pdf file.

http://www.abax.net/storage/downloads/Whodunitcc.pdf

Gray, Adam, & Benevides, Marcos (2010) Fiction in Action: Whodunit? Singapore: Abax. 160 pages in 12 chapters, divided into two stories and related exercises.

This book is cataloged among adult education titles, but is usable down to a secondary education level. It is best suited for students operating on WIDA levels 2-3 Beginning and developing). The book comes with an audio CD, although, being a teacher of humble means, I wasn't able to review it.

The theme of the book is the literary genre of mystery – there are two stories, a robbery and a murder – which makes it suitable for the older audience the book targets. Each chapter unfolds a new part of a crime investigation in a logical manner – the detective investigates the crime scene, interviews suspects, and eventually makes an arrest. Language instruction is given in the form of vocabulary in the beginning of each chapter, which is used in the chapter and tested at the end. I found the evaluation and assessment especially clever: at the end of each chapter, the reader is asked a series of multiple choice questions – but the letters for each answer are random, not the standard “A, B, C, D.” If the reader answers every question correctly, their correct answers will spell out an extra clue for the chapter. That way, students can assess themselves based on whether or not their answers spell a coherent sentence.

Reading is the primary language skill used, although the audio CD supplements this with listening exercises. The language function most used involved making judgments of fact or opinion, where readers are asked to make judgments about characters based on information given in the chapter, for example, “Why did Sara Sweet go to the Police Station?” or “Which of the following statements can we guess about Sofia?” Grammar instruction is given alongside vocabulary, usually to help readers use new vocabulary words, for example, “proof and evidence are uncountable nouns.” Vocabulary is introduced at the beginning of every chapter in a section called, “Crime Talk.”

The exercises are presented logically at the beginning and end of every chapter, as well as within each chapter, beginning with pre-reading group/individual exercises, and, from chapter 2 onward, a review exercise covering the story up to that point. The exercises at the end of each chapter are for individual work – the multiple-choice questions previously mentioned. The pre-reading and review exercises show variety, as well as provide much-needed scaffolding, while the multiple choice questions fall into a steady pattern of vocabulary questions followed by content questions. The book also makes a very clever accommodation for less proficient readers: Throughout the story, a fingerprint image will appear near some vital clue or answer to a future question, cuing the reader that the passage should be read carefully. This is useful to beginning readers who would otherwise be unfamiliar with the nuances of the “whodunit” genre.

The book is well illustrated throughout, using hand-drawn illustrations of characters, settings, and events which match up with the book's descriptions. Some exercises encourage readers to draw their own illustrations based on descriptions in the story, or asks them to fill in missing information in n existing illustration. Characters depicted are from a variety of cultures (the lead detective in both stories is Asian), and their clothes, hair, props, etc., are contemporary.

I was very impressed with this book. It introduces students to the literary genre of the mystery story and manages to give them enough vocabulary beforehand and comprehension checks afterward to insure that the readers are following the story. I would've liked to have seen more grammar-based exercises included in either the pre-reading or the end-of-chapter exercises, as I think the book's only notable flaw is that it lacks grammar instruction, but otherwise, I found this to be a very well-written and well-presented ESL reader.

Looking for books for ELL students?

Literature teachers are always looking for books to engage and interest students. ESL teachers are looking for books that are good for ELL students to work on, alone or in groups, to build their language skills. In my travels, I've come across a few books that work around my level (I teach high school) that are worth looking into:

Aronson, M., and Campbell, P. (2008). War Is... Cambridge: Candlewick Press.

This book is an anthology of firsthand accounts from soldiers and survivors of war, including letters from civil war soldiers, an account of a survivor of the Nagasaki atomic bomb, to AP news reports of soldiers in Iraq. The book is valuable for grade levels 10-11, and useful in any Social Studies curriculum where war, any war, is the topic. because the book is an anthology, any one of its 20 stories can be used or skipped as needed. Due to the wide range of writing styles, this book is best suited for nearly fluent ELLs, in small or whole groups, depending on the number of stories used.

Beals, M. P. (1994). Warriors Don't Cry. New York: Simon and Schuster.

This book is a memoir detailing that author and group of other African American students being integrated into the Little Rock, Arkansas school system in 1957. It is suitable for High School students of any grade level, and while the general language is fit for speech emergent ELLs, some assistance may be required to decipher slang terms of the 1950s. Not only is this useful in an American history lesson, but ELL students may be able to compare the author's hardships with possible experiences of their own, facing discrimination, rejection, and persecution. Individual or small groups preferred.

Boas, J. (1995). We are Witnesses: Five Diaries of Teenagers who Died in the Holocaust. New York: Square Fish Publishing

The title is the summary -- this book is a collection of actual diaries detailing the lives of five young people as they lived in various concentration camps during WWII. Due to the mature subject matter, the book is best suited for 12th grade high school students, bringing the reality of WWII and the Holocaust into a social studies curriculum. Best for Nearly Fluent ELLs, working individually or in small groups (groups of five would be the most logical choice)

Busby, C. and Busby, J. (2008). The Year We Disappeared. New York: Bloomsbury.

This true crime story focuses on a father and daughter who struggle after he, a police officer, is shot and disfigured while on duty. her reactions to the transition from a normal life to living under constant police protection and supervision may echo the feelings of ELLs who have had upheavals in their own lives. grades 11-12, nearly fluent ELLs, Individual to small group work.

Houston, J. W., and Houston, J. D. (1973) Farewell to Manzanar. Orlando: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston recounts her own true life experience of being forced into an internment camp in Manazar, California, during WWII. It would augment a Social Studies curriculum to hear about the camps: a seldom-discussed topic. Suitable for all high school grade levels, speech emergent to nearly fluent, small to whole groups.

Janeczko, P. (2006) Seeing the Blue Between. Cambridge: Candlewick Press.

This book is a compilation of poems combined with words of encouragement from the poets themselves, directed at students interest in poetry. This book would be invaluable as a tool in any literature class where poetry is the subject. 9-10th grades, speech emergent to nearly fluent, individual work.

Jiminez, F. (1999). The Circut. Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P.

Francisco Jiminez tells a series of short stories to describe his childhood as part of a family of Mexican migrant workers in the American Southwest, beginning with his emigration from Mexico. one or more of the dozen stories presented can be used to augment a social studies lesson on the region, or any work of literature set in the time or place (Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men comes to mind). Good for any high school grade level, speech emergent to nearly fluent (Spanish students will benefit from Jiminenz's use of Spanish in the text), individual, small, or whole groups.

Kohler, D. (2009). Rock 'N' Roll Soldier: A Memoir. New York: Harper Collins.

Dean Kohler formed a rock band, wrote and performed music while serving in the Vietnam War. This memoir would be useful for any Social Studies curriculum studying the Vietnam War, the 1960s, or the American counterculture. Grades 10-12 preferred, nearly fluent ELLs, small groups.

Lekuton, J. (2003). Facing the Lion: Growing up Maasai on the African Savanna. Des Moines: National Geographic Society

The author recounts his actual childhood as part of a nomadic tribe in Africa, and his initiation into western civilization, including his immigration to attend college in America. Regardless of class or curriculum, any ELL student will appreciate Joseph Lekuton's story of immigration and adaptation to a new culture, and no doubt find parallels with their own. Suitable for all high school grade levels, speech emergent to near fluency, individual, small or whole groups.

Lester, J. (2006) Day of Tears: A Novel in Dialogue. New York: Hyperion Books.

As the title suggests, this book consists of mainly dialogues between Emma, a slave in the antebellum American South, and her fellow slaves, free blacks, and her master, Mr. Butler. This book puts a human face on the American History curriculum's topic of slavery in America, forcing its reader to feel sympathetic for the slave as well as the master, both of whom are subject to forces beyond their control. Suitable for all high school grade levels of speech emergent ELLs, working in pairs to reconstruct the dialogues.

Li, M. (2008). Snow Falling in Spring. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux

Moying Li's childhood in China was interrupted in 1966 by the Cultural Revolution. She finds herself in a Chinese labor camp, her only solace in the books she has smuggled in. The theme of the importance of reading and imagination would fit in a literature class, and Social Studies would benefit from a first-hand account of the Cultural Revolution. best for 11-12th grade, nearly fluent ELLs, individuals to small groups.

Opdike, I. G. (1999). In My Hands: Memories of a Holocaust Rescuer. New York: Random House.

This book is the true-life account of the author, who, as a young girl, helped hide Jews during Hitler's occupation of her native Poland. This book is suitable for high school students of any grade level, and useful in a social studies curriculum discussing WWII and the Holocaust. Most appropriate for speech emergent and nearly fluent ELLs, small or whole groups.

Plum-Ucci, C. (2008). The Night My Sister Went Missing. Orlando: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

This mystery novel follows Kurt Carmody as he tries to unravel the circumstances behind his sister's death. Who did it? Why? Was it an accident or murder? This novel is useful in Literature classes to illustrate point of view, as well as give students practice in prediction and foreshadowing, as the author mixes false clues in with real ones. Grades 10-12, nearly fluent ELLs, individual to small groups.

Truman, T. (2006). No Right Turn. New York: Harper Collins.

This novel follows a young man named Jordan, struggling to come to grips with his father's suicide. This book is best suited for a upperclass high school audience (grades 11-12) due to its dramatic content. The themes of loss, tragedy, and restarting one's life may appeal to multicultural student who may have experienced similar hardships. Due to the high levels of dialogue and teenage slang, this book is best suited for nearly fluent ELL students, individual or small groups.

Wulffson, D. L. (2001). Soldier X. New York: Penguin

This novel is a fictional account of a 16-year-old German boy drafted to fight for the Nazis against the Russians during WWII. Due to the graphic descriptions of combat, this book is best for 12th grade students. Besides the obvious Social Studies/World History connection, this novel is also useful for native English Speakers as well as ELLS, who must learn to see the world from a different point of view as they see that Erik, the novel's protagonist, not as an "evil" Nazi but as a human being. Suitable for speech emergent and fluent ELLs, although the characters do often code-switch in their dialogues between English and German. Individual or paired work.

Yan, M. (2004). The Diary of Ma Yan: The Struggles and Hopes of a Chinese Schoolgirl. New York: Harper Collins.

The true story of a Chinese Muslim girl who wants to go to school and learn despite extreme poverty. When her wish is granted, she feels he need to excel and be at the top of her class to prove herself. This book introduces both ELLs and native students to a little-studied region of the world, making it useful in a Social Studies curriculum. 10-11th grades, nearly fluent ELLs, small groups.