Rumors.

In what's turned out to be an inadvertent follow-up to last week's topic, I had an interesting encounter with one of my administrators in the hallway after a class shortly after posting my last entry. As I've said, I make it an issue not to give away too much personal information about myself to my students, preferring not to share the details of my personal life with them. Of course, the rumor mill hardly needs fuel to run it.

In any event, I'd like to relate this conversation between myself an my administrator, which went something like this:

I met up with her in the hallway outside my classroom, which right away raised a flag in my mind – while the admins do regularly patrol the building to make sure everything is in order, they usually stay close to the common areas: offices, cafeteria, etc. My classroom is far enough out in the wings of the building that I wouldn't see an admin without a reason.

“Excuse me, can I talk to you about something? Something personal?”

Confusion. I've only been working part time at this particular place, and not long enough to make too many friends. So, I'm curious.

“Something's come up – and let me first say that this is perfectly all right, but...”

Confusion being replaced with concern. I've disregarded the second part of what she's said and focused only on the “something's come up” part – nothing about this is boding well.

“It involves something one of the students said you told them...”

At this point, my brain instantly goes into full-blown red alert. My immediate concern is that something I've said has been misconstrued by a student, and while I keep a cool demeanor, I'm already, in the middle of her talking, frantically searching my memory to try to figure out what it could've possibly have been.

“...that you used to have a learning disablity?”

There is no time for relief – I'm instantly back to confusion. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what I could've said to anyone that could've been interpreted like that. Knowing full well that she cannot and will not reveal any specifics of her conversation, I let her continue.

“Because this student also has been diagnosed, and he was telling me what an inspiration it is to see a teacher who's been in the same situation.”

At this point, let me say, for the record, that I have never had any kind of learning disability. While I'm at it, let me also say that I've never been a priest, never been an alcoholic, never been gay, never been affiliated with any sort of gang, never carried on any sort of torrid love affairs with any of my fellow teachers, and have never been a hitman for the Mafia. I have, however, been the subject of these rumors and more, and have learned to laugh them off and quietly dispel them as they come along – although I will admit, I do have a soft spot for the hitman one.

Having a learning disability is a new one, and While I'll never know what I could've possibly said that gave someone that impression, I responded simply enough: “Well, I actually don't, but if it's inspiring a student, I see no reason to dispel it.” I then asked her which disability I should have, and she (half-jokingly) suggested ADD. I'm not sure if that was some sort of hint, but if it was, it was completely lost on me – in an era of the internet, technology, and instant gratification, it's getting harder and harder to find a student who's not beginning to show symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.

So apparently I have ADD now. As rumors go, I'm actually not too bothered by this one (as long as my administrators know the truth), and it's doing a world of good for at least one of my students. Is it true? Of course not. Does it matter? It reminds me of the ending of The Dark Knight: “sometimes... the truth isn't good enough. Sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.”

Our students have faith in us. They have faith in our ability to educate them, to show them how much more they can be. That's what matters.

Let's Not Get Personal Here...

One of my favorite “Calvin and Hobbs” comics featured a conversation between Calvin and his mother. She told him that she saw his teacher, Mrs. Wormwood, shopping at the supermarket, much to Calvin's surprise, who remarks, “I thought teachers slept in coffins all summer.” While a long nap (minus the coffin) at the end of a school year is mighty tempting, it was the notion of the students' perception of me as a teacher which got my attention.

I've always found it a delicate balance between closeness and aloofness when dealing with students – too close, and students see me more as a friend than as a figure of respect; too aloof, and I turn into an 80s high school movie cliché. It's a tightrope act, one which every teacher must walk in accordance with their own teaching style and personality.

For myself, I find myself leaning towards the students, trying to maintain a “friendly, but not a friend,” attitude. In spite of this, I always find myself concerned when I hear my students refer to me as a “cool” teacher – part of me things I'm letting them get away with too much. As professionally as I maintain myself, I've still had my share of interesting encounters.

I've had students offer virtual friendships on various social networking sites. I've received invitations to various social events and gatherings. I've had students try to set me up on dates with their family members – cousins, sisters, even parents. I've even had students offer to sell me drugs. For the record, I've declined all such offers. But it has made me very mindful about how much of my personal life teachers should share with their students – especially older (secondary and post-secondary) students such as the ones I teach.

Should we be encouraged or concerned when our students want to know more about us as people? Is the fact that they're thinking about us as not just teachers cause for encouragement or concern?

A Happy Accident

It's been a wild few weeks for me as I've settled into a new school, and have been eager to earn the respect of my coworkers and students. I was getting prepped for one of my classes the other day, all set to complete a lesson on figurative language. The day before, they had begun some worksheets on personification and hyperbole. Challenging, but not too much; pretty standard fare, but (at least in my opinion) interesting enough to get them engaged. This was to be the last day of this particular lesson, when potential calamity struck.

Turns out I left the entire stack of their worksheets at home – I had nothing on hand to do with them for the period, and precious few materials available except a worksheet they had done previously and a pad of looseleaf paper. Rather than panic, I jumped a few days ahead in my mind and told the class that today, rather than do the worksheets, they would be putting what they had learned to work by composing an original piece of poetry this period. I didn't mention the reason for it, and simply told them that because of it, we'd be doing something different today.

The rules were simple enough – there was no length requirement for the work, and no restrictions as to the subject matter (my only request was to keep the language clean). The poem, however, had to include a sample of each of the figurative terms we had previously discussed – a simile or metaphor, a hyperbole, and an example of personification. I explained the rules and let them go to work.

The work may not have been particularly inspired (I got a lot of ditties of the “Roses are red...” variety), and many of them missed some of the figurative elements, but the important thing is that they all, including students who had been reluctant to participate, were engaged in a creative activity. Even though I didn't require it, many of them attempted to make their work rhyme, and were constantly asking me and each other for rhymes for various words. All told, I got more out of this emergency exercise than the one I had originally planned.

Mark Twain once quipped, "It takes me about three weeks to write an impromptu speech." But it takes more than careful planning to be spontaneous, it takes a desire to do so. Part of me knew the worksheet was really grabbing the kids' attention, but I was too focused on staying organized and committed to my lesson plan to drop it and move on. It took a mishap to get things back on track.

I shall have to arrange for more such mishaps in the future.

Figurative language... represent!

While the odds of me ever becoming or even being mistaken for a Hip-Hop mogul are slim to none, I have recently come across an interesting resource for teaching poetry and figurative language --

deyonjohnson.pbworks.com/f/Figurative+Language+Packet.doc

-- Which usues rap lyrics alongside of more classical poetry to introduce concepts such as simile, metaphor, hyperbole, etc. I've found it useful (with a few modifications) for my own lessons because it reinforces one of my core beliefs of literature and creativity -- nothing is new. The same tools used by the likes of Byron and Shakespeare are still being used by 50 Cent and Jay-Z.

My most profound thanks to Ms. Deyon Johnson of Washington D.C. for posting this and other wonderful resources, and I hope to find others which bring contemporary culture into the classroom.

Down time.

Feeling a bit under the weather this week, friends -- not enough to keep me out of class (I suspect it would take the plague to do that -- I've always prided myself on my attendance record), but enough to keep me from researching or writing for this week. So I'm taking a week off for this leap day, but I'll be back next Wednesday with something interesting.

Beauty is...

We just read “My First Conk,” from The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and got involved in a discussion of what beauty is, and what a person will go through to be “beautiful.” In the passage, Malcolm X expresses his own disgust at the length that black men (including himself) went through to fit a standard of beauty which equated “beautiful” with “looking white”:

http://teacherweb.com/NJ/JohnFKennedyMemorialHighSchool/Cice/First_Conk001.pdf

“This was my first really big step toward self-degradation: when I endured all of that pain, literally burning my flesh to have it look like a white man’s hair. I had joined that multitude of Negro men and women in America who are brainwashed into believing that the black people are “inferior”—and white people “superior”— that they will even violate and mutilate their God-created bodies to try to look “pretty” by white standards.”

What followed was a great class discussion about what beauty is, who sets the standard of “beautiful,” and the lengths a person was willing to go through to find it. There's no shortage of resources on this particular topic – during my years teaching at a girls' high school, I became aware, through numerous research papers, of the various facts and figures regarding eating disorders and the obsession with fitness, so I, in the interest of novelty, decided to go a different path.

I remembered an episode of the National Geographic show Taboo entitled “Body Perfect,” which charted three vastly different cultures and explored the lengths people there went through to become “beautiful” by their standards – an Indonesian woman agreed to have her teeth filed to sharp points in order to appease her village spirits, a Beverly Hills man underwent surgery for (of all things) butt implants, and a Chinese man had his legs surgically broken and reset in order to become taller.

The episode is available on most streaming video services, including Netflix, and a preview of the episode itself can be found on National Geographic's educational video website:

http://www.natgeoeducationvideo.com/film/763/taboo-2-body-perfect

The video is not too graphic (there are some surgery scenes, but nothing explicit), and I found it an interesting tool for getting students thinking about other cultures – I especially appreciate how, like many of the show's episodes, in included a distinctly American custom (in this case, Beverly Hills plastic surgery) as a means of comparison. All told, it's an interesting resource, althoguh best suited for older, more mature classrooms.

Some of my students used the video as a springboard to discuss their own and their culture's notion of beauty – as well as their commonalities. One student remarked that the Chinese fixation on height from the third segment, for example, was more or less universal – height is often associated with power and status. It opened their eyes to different cultures and ideas, while still giving them a reference point for their own.

All told, I would suggest this episode for any kind of discussion on health or beauty in which the educator wants to put a multicultural spin. The series in general is very good, although some topics are less appropriate than others.

Also, it's just plain interesting, even outside of class!

Another book review

Goodman, B. (2004). English, Yes! Learning English Through Literature. Level 7: Transitional New York: Glencoe. 184 pp., 9 units. Last book of a series.

This book is used on a secondary/adult education level, best suited for students at WIDA levels 4-5, Expanding and Bridging. It is a stand-alone book with no supplemental material or online component.

The topics are age-appropriate, using adaptations of classical and contemporary literature, with each unit focusing on a different short story. Language instruction is covered though vocabulary and grammar exercises at the end of each story/unit, which always relate the questions back to the story itself. Comprehension exercises are scattered along with the vocabulary and grammar exercises, integrating content and language instruction. The exercises themselves, however, don't contain any sort of answer key, and are for the most part, open ended questions (short answers, essay prompts, etc.,) which don't allow for much assessment or evaluation without the teacher's presence.

 As the theme of the book is learning language through literature, reading and writing skills are stressed, at the expense of others. Some of the more advanced language functions include using language to persuade (in an essay format) others to a certain opinion or action, comparing and contrasting characters within a story, and summarizing and describing events. There are almost no grammar exercises at all, although vocabulary is stressed through definition, synonym and antonym drills – mostly in a multiple choice format.

Exercises are grouped in a predictable pattern at the end of each story/unit, although there is some variety in the exact format of each exercise. For example, while the vocabulary exercise for one unit may be fill-in-the-blanks, the next unit's vocabulary drill will be multiple choice. The variety, however, is still somewhat limited, which is not helpful for different learning styles. There are no group activities or oral communication exercises of any kind, so there are no opportunities for students to use their newfound knowledge in a hands-on scenario. The book is the last of a series, presumably the last step before mainstreaming, so there is no noticeable differentiation of instruction.

The book has very few hand-drawn illustrations, usually only two or three per story. As the stories themselves come from a variety of cultures, from China to Latin America, so do the illustrations. Many of the stories are not contemporary, so the illustrations are not either, although they are historically and literally accurate to promote understanding of the text. Not nearly enough illustration or realia is included to help English Learners, but as this book is the last of a series, this may be intentional in order to focus the reader on the literature unassisted.

This book is the last step in a series before mainstreaming, and I wish I could've seen some of the earlier books to get a look at how the series handles developing readers. I was very disappointed in the complete lack of oral or group exercises, something which is now standard even in mainstream Literature texts. The book seems to assume a high level of proficiency because that is what it is designed for, nevertheless, some differentiation of instruction and appeal to multiple intelligences would have still been a wise move to help those students who may not yet be up to the expected level.

Another classic review.

Wiley, K. (2004). Shining Star. White Plains: Longman. Book 1 (Introduction) of a series. 289 pp., 8 units.

This book is used in middle schools, best suited for students at WIDA levels 1-2, Entering and Beginning. It comes with an audio CD but no online materials. The topics are age-appropriate, gradually preparing students towards mainstream school subjects and topics. Language instruction is covered all throughout the book, beginning heavily in the introductory unit, “Getting Started,” which provides exercises not only for basic terms (numbers, directions, classroom objects, etc.) but also a primer for terms in specific subjects (social studies shows how to read a map, math gives the basic fractions). The following units incorporate these lessons into themes which cover most of the content matter, for example, Unit 4, “Family Ties,” includes a short story for Language Arts,, a section on families around the world for Social Studies, and even a section on heredity and traits for science classes. Every unit ends with a “Review and Practice” as well as a “Connect to Writing” section, which provides both oral and written exercises for students to do for the teacher to assess.

The book is focused primarily on reading skills, with the Audio CD used primarily for the introductory chapters only. Students should be able to answer factual questions through exercises such as Wh- question charts, requiring them to express facts as well as judgments of opinion. Grammar exercises are presented in “Connect to Writing” exercises, covering basics such as subject-object agreement and use of pronouns. Vocabulary is covered mostly as highlighted words in the chapters, where the meanings are either given as footnotes, as in a standard literature book, or else used at the end as part of a comprehension exercise where students must choose the meanings from a list based on the context the word was used in.

Most of the exercises appear in either the beginning (“Prepare to Read”) or the end of the chapters, with very few exercises actually appearing during the reading passages. The prereadinig exercises lack variety, but they do draw heavily on students' prior knowledge, containing a “Background” section dedicated to having students use their own knowledge to answer questions and make predictions, making good use of scaffolding. There is a mixture of exercise types, within each unit, which are useful for both visual and verbal learners. End-of-unit exercises to include group work with gives students hands-on activities which let them share their knowledge with each other in meaningful communication. The book is already geared to an introductory reader, so there is not much differentiation apparent.

The book is well illustrated with numerous photographs which are on topic to provide background information for the students. Multiculturalism is given special emphasis, as topics and illustrations range from the ancient Greeks to the Native Americans – in fact, almost every photograph in the book illustrates a non-American culture. The photos appear recent, and show both recreations of ancient peoples as well as modern counterparts. There are more than enough photos in each unit to clearly illustrate and provide background.

From what I've heard, the Shining Star series is a commonly-used book for introductory ESL education, and I can see why. While not particularly creative or imaginative in its approach, it nevertheless is a solid series which provides a firm foundation for beginning ESL learners. I think the book would've benefited from more exercises, and more opportunities for students to evaluate and assess themselves, but on the whole, Shining Star offers a ground-level introduction to both language and academic content.

How good does your English have to be?

I recently came across the following storyline, and have been following it with some interest:


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/26/us/arizona-candidates-english-under-challenge.html?pagewanted=all

The short version is this: Alejandrina Cabrera is in the midst of a legal battle because she is being barred from running for the San Luis City Council because her English isn't good enough. Cabrera speaks English as a second language, but is far from fluent. Which raises some questions: Given that English is not the official language of the US, how good does it have to be in order to participate in government? And who decides what's good enough?

 San Luis is an Arizona Town (pop. 25,000) on the Mexican border. In fact, many of its residents hail from the "other" San Luis, just on the other side. According to the article, Spanish is the dominant language of the town, with bits and pieces of English thrown in.

I plan to use this article in a future class to ask my students what they think: In a town where most of the residents speak Spanish, should a potential civic leader be disqualified, not for not speaking English, but for apparently not speaking enough? How much is enough? And what should be the standard for determining enough.

I think there is some good material here for discussing the difference between a dominant language and an official one -- Official being required by law; dominant just being what the majority speaks -- and a good debate question: Should English be the official language? The "English Only Movement" is nothing new in politics, but it's interesting to see how the roles of language and government clash here.

Has anyone else been using or following this?

Language and politics

I've used this article in classes last year to demonstrate the power of language. I offer it here to anyone who's interested in the political impact of language:

Why the GOP Demonizes "Illegals"

By Peter Beinart | The Daily Beast – October 24, 2011



I turned on the Republican presidential debate last week and learned something. In today’s GOP, the correct term for a human being who crosses the U.S. border without a visa in search of a brutally difficult, poorly paid job that few native-born Americans wish to do but on which our national economy depends is “illegal.”
Not “illegal immigrant” or even “illegal alien,” which implies that the people cooking our food and making our beds arrived here by spaceship. But merely “illegal.” Maybe in the general election, when Mitt Romney goes trolling for votes in the Southwest, he’ll soften up and merely dehumanize America’s most vulnerable people via adjective. But when you’re battling Rick Perry and Herman Cain, adjectives aren’t good enough. You need the noun.
“Illegal” is the latest in a long line of euphemisms that politicians use to signal their antipathy to a reviled racial or ethnic group, in this case, Latinos. No, no, you say, this has nothing to do with animosity toward Hispanics; it’s about protecting the border and obeying the law. Really? Then why don’t we call the CEOs of the companies that hire illegal immigrants “illegals”? Our last three presidents all violated America’s drug laws. The current Treasury secretary violated America’s tax laws. Former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay recently was convicted of money laundering. I look forward to hearing Mitt Romney and Fox News refer to them as “illegals” too.
People from non-stigmatized ethnic groups don’t get called “illegals” no matter what they do. When I grew up in Boston in the 1980s, the city was filled with Irish workers with forged immigration papers. But since Irish politicians ran the city, those workers were treated gingerly. In the mid-1990s, after the first World Trade Center bombing prompted a federal crackdown on illegal immigrants, agents from what was then called the Immigration and Naturalization Service swooped into Boston and deported 243 undocumented workers from the Dominican Republic and another 16 from tiny Cape Verde. As for the Irish, as Boston Magazine noted in 2008, the INS agents managed to find only four. Had a newscaster in the Boston of my youth called the undocumented Irish “illegals,” he would have been fired.
It’s tempting to dismiss “illegals” as another poll-tested, cotton-candy word that no one takes seriously. After all, if Americans really believed that illegality defined undocumented workers—that they were lawless and dangerous at their core—would millions of families entrust them with the care of their kids?
On the other hand, it’s just possible that the rhetorical dehumanization of millions of Latinos may have something to do with the big spike in anti-Latino hate crimes over the last decade. In 2010, for instance, a Phoenix man named Gary Kelley shot his neighbor, Juan Verela, after yelling “Go back to Mexico or die!” No word yet on whether Kelley is an “illegal” as defined by Mitt Romney.

Remix

Last week, I mentioned what I call my First Law of Literature: “There is no such thing as an original story.” I'd like to come back to this thought as I announce the launch of a great new educational website.

We place so much pressure on ourselves and out students to be “original,” when the truth is, originality, frankly, is overrated. The creative process is as much about rearranging old ideas in new ways as it is about coming up with something utterly new.

Case in point: take out your cellphone. Yes, I know you have one on you. I'll bet you a month's supply of anything that your phone has a camera on it. Whether you take pictures with it or not, whether you even know how to use it or not, it's there. Now, the camera is hardly a new invention, and for that matter, neither is the cellphone. But somebody had the great idea of taking these two things which already existed and combining them in a way that they hadn't before. The idea caught on so thoroughly that nowadays, good luck finding a cellphone that doesn't have a camera on it.

Old ideas being combined in new ways; there's a term for this: remix.

Now, many people hear “remix” and automatically think in terms of music – DJ Somebody hunched over a pair of turntables, operating enough switches and knobs to operate a B-2 bomber. But remix exists outside of music as well, and, in fact, has a long and noble history in art, literature, history, as well as in music.

When an author is looking for an image, idea, verse, or what have you, they will invariably look to those works which influenced them. In the case of the “classic” works of literature, the ones most of us had to suffer through in school, the authors' inspiration tends to come from one of three sources: The Bible, Shakespeare, or mythology. Parallels to the Christ story can be found everywhere from Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea to Harry Potter. Lines, characters, and plots have been stolen from Shakespeare for centuries – not that he can complain; he was pretty blatant himself when it came to remixing. And mythological stories of gods and heroes have inspired our modern heroes, in subtle ways (Superman/Hercules), and more direct ones (Marvel's Thor).

More modern sources tend to have more modern inspirations, and popular culture is fertile ground for remix. Popular music, cinema, gaming, etc., lifts so blatantly from one another that one could go on forever drawing parallels between them all. So, rather than ignore the elephant in the room, why not embrace it?

To this end, my brother and I have been working on projects designed to use remix as an educational tool – encouraging students to explore their creative sides by working with a set list of raw materials that can be combined in new and unique ways, limited only by their imagination. We're currently collaborating on a chapter in an upcoming textbook (details to come), but the companion site for this chapter is already up and running:

http://sites.google.com/site/educationalremixing/

This site, brand new and expected to grow, will be a collection of ideas, materials, and links to incorporate remix into classroom activities and projects. The projects have varying technology requirements, but for the most part, anyone with a computer and internet access should be able to do them.

I'm looking forward to seeing and hearing what people do with the materials provided on the site. I only wish I could take the credit for what's been done there, but it was my brother who originally conceived the idea of educational remixing; I edited and rearranged it for the site.

In other words, I remixed it. Enjoy.

Another Classic Book Review

Another ESL Text review -- this one from 2004. I think that ideally, textbooks should be evaluated and updated by their schools every 5 years, but with budgets getting slashed left, right, and center, that's not always a realistic goal. So you can expect to find a lot of older books out there. Some are still good, others...

The text is Grammar Sense by Cheryl Pavlik. (2004), published by Oxford UP. 480 pp. 23 chapters in 9 units. Book 2 of a series.

This book is intended to be used for adult education according to the Oxford UP website. It is best suited for students operating on WIDA level 3 (Developing). It comes with a CD-ROM containing supplemental lessons and audio files. There is no online component.

The topics seem geared to a younger audience than the adults that the books website claim it is for, although there are some areas (one chapter contains a unit on the 1960s) which fit the age group. Chapters are arranged by grammatical lessons, not themes. A chapter may follow a theme briefly, switch to a new theme, followed by a series of exercises following no theme at all. Because the content is grammar, content and language instruction are one and the same. Evaluation and assessment are handled with regular exercises throughout each chapter.

Reading is the primary language skill used, although the exercises also use the CD-ROM extensively to practice listening skills as well. The most-used language function is determining facts, through the use of exercises such as true-or-false questions after a reading passage, or making judgments of fact or opinion, such as describing scenes depicted in illustrations. Grammar is presented in a variety of ways, including exercises involving filling in the blanks on charts conjugating verbs in sentences. New vocabulary is not introduced except as it relates to a given lesson, for example, an exercise using the phrase “used to.”

he exercises are presented in a logical order in relation to each other, but not in relation to any kind of overarching theme. For example, chapter 4, The Simple Past Tense, begins with a series of exercises about verb forms, then about their meaning and use, first in relation to a theme about the 1960s, then about the Wright brothers, and then a loose series of exercises without any theme. There seems to be little to no scaffolding done outside the book's own lessons – at no point did the book call on students to use their own knowledge or experiences in any noticeable way. Some exercises require listening skills from the CD-ROM to complement the reading exercises, which does take into account different learning styles. Some exercises do encourage hands-on activities, requiring students to engage in scripted conversations with each other using lessons from the chapter, but more such opportunities are needed. There doesn't seem to be any accommodation for learners of different levels of proficiency.

The book does provide some illustrations to build some background – a section on Iceland included a map of the country, and the section on the 1960s included a photo of a peace march, but not nearly enough illustrations were used. In one 20 page chapter, a total of 6 illustrations were used, not including an exercise which asked learners to describe events depicted in hand-drawn pictures.

I was disappointed in the presentation of this book. Although it would be a serviceable grammar book for a mainstream English class, it simply does not take into account the needs of ESL students. I would insure that the lessons were more strongly linked to themes, and not abandon those themes halfway through each chapter. I would also provide more hands-on activities which allowed students to use their own real-life experiences as a starting point for learning the lessons in each unit. I would also add more variety to the lessons to take into account multiple intelligences and learning styles, as well as suggestions for students at lower proficiency levels. Lastly, I would include more illustrations and realia to put content in context so students have a better idea what they are discussing.

DON'T Stop Me if You've Heard This One...

It should go without saying that the best writers are the best readers. The trick, however, is to encourage students to read, especially in an era of instant entertainment via movies, television, and the internet, where actual books are considered time-consuming and archaic. While I've met some professors who look down on such media, preferring the “classics,” I've found that, when the goal is effective storytelling, our students are a lot more in touch with the classics than many of us (or even themselves) give them credit for. The first step, as I have done many times in the past, is to make them aware of it.

“I'm going to tell you a story,” I usually begin with my students, “and I want you to figure out what story it is.” The students listen carefully; they love a good game. “Let's start with a boy – in fact, let's make him an orphan: parents are dead; he lives with his aunt and uncle; very unhappy childhood. One day, an old man shows up at his home and tells this boy that he's a hero – or at least he's going to be one. There's a villain threatening the world, and only the boy can stop him – but not yet; he needs to be trained. So the old man takes the boy away to a special place, unlike anything he's ever imagined. Here, he makes some new friends, makes a few enemies, learns the rules of this new and special world as well as the skills to be the hero everyone says he's going to be. So, armed with this new knowledge, as well as a few magical items to help him along the way, the boy defeats the villain and saves the world!

“Now... what's the story?”

If the students are at all familiar with pop culture (and let's face it, they all are), they've probably started blurting out “Harry Potter!” by the time I mentioned the old man at the door. And yes, I assure them, Harry Potter is the right answer.

So is Star Wars.

So is (if you change the boy to a girl) The Wizard of Oz.

So is (if my Nintendo-playing students are to be trusted) The Legend of Zelda.

I never get tired of the wide variety of answers I get to this question – it's a cross-section of popular culture as I get answers from Lord of the Rings to Batman Begins. The story may deviate in a few details, but in the end, it's the same story, and it's one that the students already know.

What I've just demonstrated here is two things: First, what I cal Shamburg's First law of Literature: There is no such thing as an original story. I often accentuate this point by giving my students a second, simpler story to identify: “Boy meets girl. They're not supposed to fall in live, but they do anyway. It ends badly, and in the end, a lot of people end up dead.” Even someone who's never read or seen Romeo and Juliet can spot this one a mile off – because they've seen this story done and redone in so many different ways – put it to music, and it's West Side Story. Put it on a boat, and it's Titanic. Put it on another planet, and it's Avatar. James Cameron has shown himself to be a master of dressing up the simplest and most well-known of stories, as long as you write him a blank check for special effects. (Then again, he's making billions of dollars on these films and I'm not, so who am I to begrudge him?)

Second, what's being displayed here is mythologist Joseph Campbell's image of what he called “The Hero's Journey.” It is a pattern that exists in heroic myths and stories from just about every culture in human history, and for those not familiar with Campbell or mythology, The Hero With a Thousand Faces is a good read.

Campbell has had such an effect on modern storytelling, that Christopher Vogler took Campbell's Hero's Journey and applied it to his own profession – screenwriting. Vogler has worked on a number of Hollywood films, including several Disney animated films, and has applied Campbell's pattern to the storytelling. His book, The Writer's Journey, is a how-to guide for modern-day storytellers to write in such a way that resonates with their audience.

I've taken ideas from both Campbell and Vogler and applied them – in a stripped-down and simplified form – to my own lessons about literature. The key, I believe, to making students active and engaged readers is to reassure them that they are not treading into uncharted waters, but rather, exploring themes, ideas, even stories and characters, that they've already seen many times before. Making connections, I tell them, is the key to being a good reader. As you read a story, watch a movie, or even play a video game, the question you should always ask yourself is, “Where have I seen this before?”

My students have made some surprising connections. I'll never forget an Honors American Literature class, as we were discussing an image in the opening chapter of The Scarlet Letter of a rosebush growing outside the prison door, when one of my students commented, “It's just like Tupac's 'Rose That Grew F.rom Concrete'!” I wasn't familiar with Mr. Shakur's poetry at the time, but after a quick summary from my student (followed up by a weekend trip to Barnes & Noble) I had a new respect for my students' ability to make connections between literature and their own lives and world, which is the best reason to read.

And I still have that book of Tupac Shakur's poetry on my shelf. He's not half bad.

References:

Campbell, J. (2008). The Hero With a Thousand Faces (3^rd ed.). Novato: New World Library.

Shakur, T.(1999). The Rose That Grew From Concrete. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Vogler, C. (2007). The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers (3^rd ed.). Studio City: Michael Wiese Productions.

My Own Private Saturnalia

As I sit and recover from a most productive fall semester (and not a bad Christmas haul, I don't mind adding), I find myself making plans and adjustments for the upcoming spring semester. This is in clear violation of one of the rules I had set for myself when I began teaching college – The week between Christmas and New Years was to be completely free of business; the week was to be for me and me alone. In hindsight, I'm actually glad I've chosen to break this rule.

I had originally gotten the idea for this week off when I did some research into the Roman holiday of Saturnalia – a week at the end of the end of the year which was reserved for wild parties, overturning of social norms, and general raucousness. During this Roman festival, masters served servants, courthouses were closed, and Roman youth were immune to arrest for minor crimes such as vandalism or being a public nuisance. While I have no plans for any such debauchery this New Year's Eve, it should come as no surprise that I found the “no work gets done this week” aspect of it particularly appealing -- so appealing, in fact, that I freely admit that it was probably more of my own tradition than the holiday's.

I discovered Saturnalia quite by accident, as I, for my own curiosity, did some research into Christmas. I found that one of the reasons that The Catholic Church chose December 25 to celebrate Christmas was to change the general mood of the time away from generalized debauchery and towards more... spiritual thoughts.This got me thinking about holidays across cultures. How much do we as teachers know about the holidays and traditions in our multicultural classrooms? I know of many teachers who encourage their classes to participate or reenact certain holiday traditions (which, due to the religious nature of some of them, occasionally causes them to run afoul of the Establishment Clause of the Constitution), but rather than merely celebrate them, do we give our students opportunities to explore them? I'm not just referring to American holidays and traditions, but to their own – how often do we give students the chance to explain not only what they do, but why they do it?

I've seen (and given) plenty of holiday-themed assignments in which the history of certain traditions and customs associated with a holiday are researched and explained – such assignments are interesting and insightful to the students, who often don't know the history behind the traditions (which happens to be something of a hobby of mine). But what I've noticed is that these assignments are almost universally geared towards researching the traditions of the dominant (that is to say, our own) culture. Over the course of the last couple of semesters, however, I've learned about many ways that my students have incorporated their own traditions into mainstream holidays. This shouldn't come as any kind of surprise – most countries and cultures have traditions for various holidays, such as birthdays, New Years celebrations, and the Christmas season (whether they actually celebrate Christmas or not), but the actual traditions vary from culture to culture. We who have been raised in Western/American culture sometimes take our traditions for granted, and don't always know why we celebrate the way we do. I've therefore become curious as to whether students from other cultures have done so with their own traditions.

Of course, all educators should be mindful of the customs and traditions that are important parts of their students' backgrounds, but what I plan to do in the coming semester (my New Year's resolution, as it were), is to have the students themselves be the source of the important information: why? We should always strive to encourage higher-level thinking in our students, and what better place to begin than with those things which are intimately familiar with, yet at the same time, might not know much about?

An additional benefit is that it gives students the chance to showcase their own cultures in front of a diverse class – not only do they get to teach others about their own rich history, but they get to reaffirm it for themselves. Holidays traditions exist, I believe, as all traditions do, to give us a vital connection with our past, and to serve as reminders that we are not alone; we are part of something greater and more enduring than ourselves. Our students, no matter where they are from, should be afforded every opportunity to both remember and express that truth.

Merry Christmas!

No post this week -- just a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone!

Blast from the Past

A review of McClosky, M. & Stack, L. (1996). Voices in Literature. Bronze level. Boston: Heinle & Heinle. 200pp., 5 units.

As part of my studies in English and ESL, I often come across various textbooks which I'm called upon to review. While I do have some I can recommend, I occasionally find it useful to look at the opposite end of the spectrum, and explore some of the “don'ts” of ESL instruction. I recall this review I found for what turned out to be a real doozy of an ESL text.

In defense of this book, I will point out that its date of publication was 1996 – which goes a long way to show how far the field of ESL education has come. I have no idea whether or not this text is still in use anywhere in the country, but if it is, I urge teachers to remove it form their ESL curricula and move it over to history – for indeed, its greatest use now is as a relic of a past time.

This book appears to be for a grammar/middle school level, best suited for students at WIDA level 3, Developing. It comes with an audio cassette but no online component – hardly surprising considering how old the book is.

Some of the topics and themes may be a bit much for students at this grade and proficiency level, including The Diary of Anne Frank or an essay on WWII Navajo code talkers, but the book provides a fair amount of pre- and -post-reading exercises to help students put the content into a meaningful perspective. There's very little explicit language/vocabulary instruction in the book, which seems to make great assumptions about students' prior knowledge. Without explicit language instruction, it's difficult to say how exactly it would be integrated into content instruction, which is what the book focuses on. As many of the questions are either open-ended or focus on group work, there's not much objective material here to aid in evaluation or assessment.

The book, being a language through literature book, emphasizes reading and writing skills. Language functions are simple, including describing a scene or giving recitations of facts. There is actually very little guided language instruction in the book, with only minimal vocabulary introduced and no grammar exercises at all. Content instruction seems to overshadow language instruction at every step, sometimes at the expense of language. For example, after the essay about WWII Navajo code talkers, students are encouraged to write their own codes – an exercise which seems to me counterproductive to teaching standard English.

The book's exercises are few, seemingly random, and focus more on content than on any specific language skills. The exercises tend heavily to involve pair or group work, which provides students to practice language in hands-on settings – practice what, however, is something of a mystery because the book offers little to no guidance in language instruction. Students are expected to answer comprehension questions after each story, as well as other exercises such as filling in knowledge charts or adding captions to illustrations. The variety of exercises (too much variety; it seems too random) at least insures that some students' learning styles will fare better than others. The random range of exercise types, as well as the emphasis on group work, at least serve to differentiate instruction, as less-proficient students can seek aid form their more-proficient peers.

The book is well illustrated, relying primarily on hand-drawn illustrations with the occasional photograph of a scene or author. There is enough imagery and realia to promote understanding of the stories and essays in question, but as the book is somewhat dated, so are the images – the clothing and props shown in the pictures seems a bit out of date. There are, at least, enough representations of different cultures – from Hispanic to Asian to Latin American – that ESL students are likely to identify with.

I was very disappointed in this book – in fact, I repeatedly found myself checking the introduction and contents to insure that it was, in fact, an ESL textbook, and not a mainstream book that I had picked up in error. It is the oldest book I've reviewed, and its numerous shortcomings illustrate just how far ESL education has come in 15 years. This book needs much more explicit language goals, and needs to incorporate them into the content of the stories it presents. Simply having the students emulate activities in the book – for example, having them describe their own family after a story with a family theme – is not enough, and accomplishes little in ESL education. The exercises are a confusing mishmash with very little logic or organization behind them. I'd be hard pressed to even recommend this book for a mainstream literature class, let alone for the unique needs of an ESL student body. It's simply too far behind the times to be of much value.

Observation of an ESL class

A little over a year ago, I had the opportunity to sit in and observe an ESL class, and discuss my observations. The following is a copy of my report.

College life is stressful enough in one language, let alone in two. Academia has a language all its own that a student must learn in order to succeed – a daunting prospect if the student is already in the process of learning English. Fortunately, ESL programs exist across the country at every academic level, from kindergarten all the way to higher education. Recently, I had the opportunity to observe an ESL class at a local university.

This university's ESL program services approximately 250 students each semester. The majority of these students (about 45% total) are Hispanic, coming from areas of the Caribbean, Central and South America. The second largest group is Middle Eastern, mostly from Egypt. The Indian subcontinent is also well represented in the ESL program. According to a representative of the ESL program, many of these students have already earned degrees or nearly so in colleges in their home countries, and come to this university to continue their education.

The ESL program at this university is a part-time program which runs alongside the college's English curriculum. It need not be taken for credit, although about three-quarters of the students in the program are matriculated. The rest take the courses as part of their own continuing education. While the program contains ten courses in total, only two – ESL 101 and ESL 102 – are necessary to fulfill the University's ESL requirement. The other courses are either electives for those who wish to continue their ESL education, or prerequisites recommended based on the entrance examination.

The entrance examination is in three parts: a standardized grammar test, a written composition, and an oral interview. Exiting the program is a matter of completing ESL 102: English Composition II – ESL. It was this class that I observed on Thursday, April 8, taught by “Dr. Carson.”

The ESL class I observed contained 15 students, approximately 60% female, of varying backgrounds: Hispanic, Arabic, and African American. The mood was congenial for the most part, but as the class went on (the class was three hours long), I could hear the complaints and grumbles of students getting restless. But on the whole, the students were attentive, cooperative, and eager to learn.

Because this class was the final class in the ESL program, most of the students I observed were quite proficient and nearly fluent in English – I estimate they were about levels 4-5 on the WIDA scale of proficiency. From the chatter among themselves and their banter with Dr. Carson, it sounded to me like their conversational English skills were at near-native levels. My earlier interview with Dr. Carson seemed to indicate that the focus of the class would be the students' academic language. My observation of the actual class supported this.

During my pre-observation interview with Professor Carson, he explained to me his personal theory of language learning. According to his theory, academic language has two components: syntax (grammar), and preformulated structures. The words of any language can be combined in literally an infinite number of ways, however, certain combinations, or preformulations, usually representing idiomatic expressions, turn up more often and are, according to Dr. Carson, not given enough attention by language teachers.

Some examples of preformulations particular to academic language are phrases such as “_________ has to do with _________,” “There is a sense of _________ in _________,” or “If it hadn't been for _________, _________ would have _________.” Dr. Carson believes in teaching his students a series of structures like these from the first day of class, so that they may become familiar with them and use them in their own academic essays, plugging them in where needed , like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He referred to is as, “learning English from the inside out.”

I will admit at this point that I had some reservations about his theory at this point, probably because learning “from the inside out,” sounds too much like learning “from the bottom up.” While this approach was popular in the earlier days of language teaching, various ESL philosophies have long since come to the conclusion that language cannot be learned in pieces – it is best learned holistically (Richard-Amato, 2010). On the surface, this part of Dr. Carson's theory seems to be a step backwards in language teaching, but I am willing to give the benefit of the doubt to a man who has quite literally written the book (several books, from the look of his office) on the topic.

One of Dr. Carson's other classroom practices that we discussed during the pre-observation interview was how he had his students keep “metacognitive journals” in which they would write about some aspect of language or grammar usage that they had recently studied or learned. A sample topic might be the importance of organizing your ideas before an essay, or what makes a good introduction. The idea was to get the students into the habit of examining not only what a given rule was, but why that rule existed. Forcing the students to examine and understand the why of a given rule or good study habit reinforced the lesson in the students' minds. I found that to be a very useful practice and plan to incorporate it into my own future classes – ESL or not.

Dr. Carson's emphasis on metacognition, as well as a combination of grammar and useful academic language production led me to assume that he was practicing a cognitive-code approach, as explained by Patricia Richard-Amato: “Cognitive code refers to any attempt to rely consciously on a syllabus based on grammar but at the same time allows for the practice and use of language in meaningful ways” (Righard-Amato, 2001). By comparing Dr. Carson's ideas with our own readings and discussions, I was even able to narrow down which of the linguistic theorists studied in class most closely matched Dr. Carson's approach: Lev Vygotsky.

“Vygotsky and Piaget were both constructionists, meaning that they believed that knowledge itself is structured and developed from within the individual through active learning” (Richard-Amato, 2010). Certainly, Dr. Carson's emphasis on the structure of learning, and encouraging his students to introspectively examine that structure through metacognitive journaling, would put him somewhere in the area of the Cognitives – either Vygotsky or Piaget. But what puts Dr. Carson firmly in the Vygotsky camp is their agreement on the role of society in cognitive development, as well as their work in scaffolding. Through Vygotsky, Wells stressed the notion of “scaffolding” language, bringing each learner up from the level they are at towards the next step in their cognitive development. (Richard-Amato, 2010) I could see how practice with Dr. Carson's preformulations – unfamiliar at first, but eventually becoming a habit – would lead students forward in their academics. Dr. Carson's preformulations are a type of instructional scaffolding that Echevarria, Vogt, and Short identified as one of three types that can be used. Preformulations can be used to enhance student learning like a graphic organizer Echevarria et al used as an example of instructional scaffolding (2008).

Vygotsky, like Dr. Carson, believed that society determined a person's stages of development. During my discussion with Dr. Carson, he noted that there were two types of ESL students in his classes – those who came directly from a foreign country, and those raised in America by non-English speaking parents. His opinion was that students in the latter group – native-born but still not English natives, had a more difficult time learning English than those who came from a fully-developed, yet foreign, cultural experience. As he explained, those students coming from a hybrid foreign-American culture don't have as solid a foundation as those who were already established in their homeland.

As most language arts teachers know, the language experience starts with “me,” and gradually moves outward towards “family,” “friends,” peers,” and so forth. But my opinion is that a person's culture is such an integral part of a person's identity that if it is not well defined, then neither is a person's sense of self. How can language begin with “me” when there is some question as to who “me” even is? These were just a few of the heady issues I had in front of me as I prepared to observe Dr. Carson at work.

The first thing I noticed about the layout of the classroom was how unremarkable it was. While group work is practically a mantra in ESL education, I was surprised to see the students seated in rows similar to any mainstream class. Students never separated into groups and had absolutely no interaction with anyone except Dr. Carson himself. I surmise that because this class is the final step before the students are mainstreamed, and that, as previously mentioned, their conversational English is already nearly fluent, Dr. Carson's goal was to operate the class as closely to a mainstream English class as possible, so that the students could easily adjust next semester.

While I see the value of Dr. Carson's approach, I have to disagree with its execution. Students, even advanced ESL students, should be given opportunities to interact and produce language. “Organizing students into smaller groups for instructional purposes provides a context that whole-group, teacher-dominated instruction doesn't offer” (Echevarria et al., 2008). And ESL or not, three hours is a long time to listen to one man. Experience has taught me that some sort of group activity is needed to break the monotony and dispel some of the restless grumbling I began to hear during the second hour.

After Dr. Carson listed his objectives for the day on the board, the class began with a quiz on the short story that the students were to have read for that day. This was a regular feature of the class which Dr. Carson had described (to the students as well as to myself) as a “Yellow Dog” quiz. As he put it, “If a story has a yellow dog in it, and I ask a question about a black dog, then I'll know who read and who didn't.” My initial impression was that this quiz, consisting of ten true-or-false questions, was merely a formality to insure that the students had actually done the reading. But I did notice that Dr. Carson had added something extra: not only did the students have to answer true or false, they had to write a short explanation of their answer. I found this to be useful not only to gauge the students' grasp of the content, but to compel them to produce language, even on something as mundane as a “Yellow Dog” quiz.

With the quiz completed and the answers reviewed and discussed, Dr. Carson moved on to the main part of the day's activity: a group reading and discussion of the short story in question. Dr. Carson invited students – sometimes volunteers, but often chosen by him – to read from the short story, while he would occasionally interrupt to draw attention to a vocabulary word or figure of speech, and ask the class if they knew what it was or what it meant. When the story mentioned hemlock, he would stop the reading and ask the students if they understood what hemlock was. The a student answered that it was a poisonous plant, he was satisfied with that answer and then proceeded to ask why it was mentioned. Did the students understand that hemlock was being used here as a symbol for something? Could they recognize what that symbol was for?

As the reading of the story continued from beginning to end, Dr. Carson's discussion of symbols and metaphors led into the most important part of the class discussion: the theme of the story. Could the students identify major themes in the story? Yes, they could, and they did. Could they relate the theme of this story to those of stories read earlier in the semester? Yes they could, and they did. It was in this activity where I saw students operating on multiple levels of thinking, as categorized by Benjamin Bloom (Bastos, 2003). Students were interpreting similarities between this story and previous ones, analyzing the story in question, realizing that there was an important theme to be found, synthesizing a theme from the actions depicted in the story, and evaluating the quality of the theme's presentation, both on its own merits and compared to previous stories. The whole time they were developing cognitive skills, they were producing the necessary language to express their ideas through dialogues with Dr. Carson.

But it was here that I noticed Dr. Carson falling into a common mistake: When a student was struggling for the right words to express his idea, Dr. Carson attempted to help the student by completing their idea for them. In and of itself, I saw this as counterproductive for language development, because the student is no longer producing language, the teacher is. Worse, occasionally Dr. Carson would continue his extension of the student's idea far beyond completing a sentence. Dr. Carson would finish what he assumed a student's idea was, or perhaps what he wanted it to be, and used it to direct the class discussion from that point, without ever asking the student if that was the idea he or she was trying to get across.

Dr. Carson was no longer just assisting the students with language, but actually feeding them content – perhaps not the content the student was originally trying to express. A student attempting to express one idea only to have it misinterpreted into something completely different might be discouraged from participating if it becomes a habit. I do not believe that Dr. Carson was doing this deliberately, but only as a result of his enthusiasm for the class discussion. Nevertheless, it is a habit that Dr. Carson should look to avoid. Help the students express their ideas, but make sure it really is their ideas being expressed.

Following the discussion of the story, the class took a 20 minute break, which Dr. Carson used to hand back papers and give students individual comments on their work. Not wanting to cross the line between observation and eavesdropping, I excused myself and took advantage of the opportunity to stretch my legs. When class resumed, Dr. Carson had a new exercise for the class, the purpose of which wasn't entirely clear: A “Character Profile Generator.”

As near as I could tell, the students were expected to compose an original short story at some point in the future – possibly the end of the semester. The character profile generator, as the name suggests, was a device which assisted students in creating random characters for their stories. Students would fill in a series of blanks with random letters or numbers, and then consult a series of charts to see what effect their choice had on their character. For example, if a student selected letter “E” for the second blank, then their character was between the ages of 20 to 25 years old. If the student selected number “5” for the tenth blank, then the character came from a large family, and so forth.

The potential for speech production were very limited in this activity, as students were expected to complete it on their own, and only occasionally raised their hands to ask for the definition of certain words, particularly ones involving personality types, for example, “pessimistic.” Furthermore, Dr. Carson never made it clear whether the characters created in this activity were required to be in the students' stories, or whether or not this was just a tool to be used should the students develop writer's block. My professional opinion is that an activity with the kind of depth and involvement as the character profile generator needs more explanation, particularly about its use, or else it just seems like so much filler. While I did like the activity in and of itself, and plan to use something similar in my future creative writing classes, it just seemed out of place in this ESL class.

Dr. Carson had two more activities scheduled for that day: exercises in preformulated structures and a discussion on finding a thesis for the students' research papers, but by that point, time had run out. Dr. Carson wished the class a good day and dismissed them. All told, I found Dr. Carson's class to be an enlightening and enjoyable experience, and was intrigued by just how much of it seemed, at first glance, to run against what I had come to expect from an ESL class. If I hadn't been specifically looking for the telltale signs of ESL teaching, I might have easily assumed it to be a mainstream English Composition class. Perhaps that was the whole point.

References

Bastos, G. (2003). Multiple Intelligences, Howard Gardner and New Methods in Teaching. Jersey City: Bastos Publications.

Echevarria, J., Vogt, M., & Short, D. (2008). Making Content Comprehensible for English Learners: The SIOP Model. Boston: Pearson.

Richard-Amato, P. (2010). Making it Happen: From Interactive to Participatory Language Teaching: Fourth Edition. White Plains: Pearson.

A General Teaching Philosophy.

The following is from an essay I wrote in March of 2010 in response to the question, "What is my ESL teaching philosophy?"

My experience has been almost exclusively on the high school level, grades 9-12. I enjoy this level because the students are just sophisticated enough to be able to recognize and appreciate literature on several levels. A freshman class reading Animal Farm doesn't just keep track of which animals do what, they can begin to recognize the story as an allegory for the Russian Revolution. That way they can see how seemingly “harmless” literature can hide serious social messages.

A senior class reading Oedipus Rex sees not only a play about a man solving a mystery, but can understand the moral lessons the story teaches, and in turn, can learn about the culture that learned from the play – a culture which has left its mark on our own.

This leads to the greatest advantage of teaching high school students – they're already familiar with their own culture, and will be able to recognize parallels between it and the cultures represented in the stories they read. My first law of literature has always been “There's no such thing as an original story; every idea comes from somewhere.” The stories we read, the movies we watch, the music we listen to; it's all been done before. My ultimate goal as a teacher is to help my students realize that, and open their idea to worlds radically different yet strangely familiar to their own.

I would say that when it comes to teaching ESL students, or indeed, any student from a non-native background, the trickiest issues come not so much from the language difference, but from the cultural difference. Without a common cultural background, it's more difficult to find something for a class to use to build new information on, and every teacher should know how important it is to base new material on previous knowledge. Scaffolding is a crucial part of any educational process, regardless of the languages involved.

As a literature teacher, I often find myself illustrating story lines from classic works in terms of movies, music, and other aspects of pop culture which many students, as it turns out, haven't been exposed to – my Thanksgiving misadventure last week was a prime example of this.

While many of the historical myths of the US are quickly fading, pop culture remains as strong as ever. I once had a class discussion in an honors class comparing the story of King Arthur, the Star Wars saga, and the Harry Potter series. A student who hasn't grown up surrounded by American popular culture wouldn't make the connections. However, for better or for worse, there's little escape from American pop culture.

Rather than start assigning movies to my ESL students, one option find the aspects of their culture that they are familiar with, for them to make new connections with the literature in class. This could be an opportunity not only for me to learn more about my students, but for the ESL student to overcome anxiety by proudly demonstrating something of their own culture, which reinforces the (very true) belief that the culture they are coming from is every bit as important as the one they are entering.

How to use knowledge about the nature of language as a system to teach listening, speaking, reading, and writing skills – Probably the most important thing to remember about the system is that it is a system. Careful attention must be paid to all four of these skills, and they are best developed in a certain order: usually passive skills (listening and reading) must develop before productive skills (speaking and writing), and the oral skills will develop before the written ones. A teacher should structure their lessons so that all four of these skills are put to use, and that, over the course of the school year, the skills emphasized follow a pattern that allows them to master the language system in its proper order.

Students are going to spend a lot of time listening before gaining enough knowledge or confidence to produce – what linguists refer to as the “silent period.” The first step for ESL teachers is to tailor expectations accordingly, and not demand large amounts of produced language in the beginning. That will probably mean no major speeches or essays at first, instead giving the students time to absorb language via lectures and reading groups (preferably with English-speakers) to take in English until they feel ready to produce language.

One of the most useful lessons I've learned about language acquisition is the Critical Period Hypothesis, which states that a language learner only has a set window of time in order to learn a second language with native-like proficiency. By the time a student reaches high school, that window has most likely come and gone, but that doesn't mean that they can't learn. First and foremost, expectations of their language development need to be adjusted – if they're not going to speak like natives, they shouldn't be expected to – not according to any set schedule, and certainly not within the confines of a school year. Communication, not perfection, is the goal.

Second, language learners are going to learn a lot more from their peers than from the classroom, so with that in mind, make group and cooperative learning an important part of any teaching strategy. Language learners partnered with native speakers will have to communicate in order to complete their assignments, and in so doing, students will be developing their language skills by using them in relevant ways.

The goal of any ESL teacher is to integrate content with language, and in this area I believe that my particular subject matter will be of the most use. Literature is, after all, a medium of language in which a particular culture expresses its values and ideals. When I taught World Literature, I acquainted my students with the concept of the hero (the works of mythographer Joseph Campbell is especially useful). Every culture create heroes as role models that exemplify the values of the culture they came from.

“Who are these heroes?” I would ask the class, “and what do we learn about the culture they came from?” For example, ancient Greek heroes such as Odysseus, Perseus, and even Oedipus were famous for their intellect, which was highly valued by the society which created them. Medieval characters such as King Arthur and Dante the Pilgrim showed great religious faith, a hallmark of their period. “Who are the heroes of your culture? What makes them special?” This is an opportunity for students of every culture to showcase their heroes, from their native culture's history, literature, even mythology. And if the student isn't familiar enough with their own culture to know their heroes, it's an excellent chance for them to research and learn.

My teaching strategy was, at first, to unite the students under a common goal – to understand literature originating outside either of their cultures. But then I realized that too much of this approach would put ESL students at a disadvantage, since they would be faced with both a culture and a language barrier, while the English-speaking students would only face a different culture. Then it occurred to me to add literature (both classic an contemporary) from the the students' own culture into the canon.

For example, many World Literature texts include selections of Middle Eastern literature and poetry which often gets overlooked by teachers (In one of my previous schools, I was the only teacher who chose in include selections from The Arabian Nights in class). In a classroom with a large Middle Eastern population, ESL students, working in groups with English-speakers as much as possible, would add their knowledge of their own culture to class discussions as well as small group or student-paired projects and presentations.

The advantages are many: First, since the ESL student is learning about their own history and culture, they are far more likely to be eager and motivated to work. Second, they will be discussing their own culture with their English-speaking classmates, which not only gives the ESL students more exposure to English in academic as well as peer/social situations, but also motivates them to learn English so that they may better understand the great works of their own culture.

Hanging over all of this, as always, is the issue of WIDA and state curriculum standards, and the question of assessment. The answer to this question depends on what level of English proficiency my future students will be on. But in general, the important thing is going to be to determine that level as quickly as possible (assuming the students haven't been tested beforehand, and that data is available to me), and model one's own teaching style, from the nature of assignments to the way a teacher speaks in class, according to their level.

Using my own experience in Multicultural World Literature as an example, a level 2 student should be able to “summarize examples of story lines from native cultures using visuals or graphic organizers (e.g., outlines) in literature circles using L1 or L2” (http://www.wida.us/standards/6-12%20Standards%20web.pdf). I could arrange a lesson in which students created such a visual media (a flowchart, for example) that organized key points in a story's plot, summarizing each one according to which character caused it and why, showing clearly how each event led to the next one in the story. A small group or pair of students working on such a chart would demonstrate sufficient skills at a 2nd level in accordance with the WIDA standards.

A level 4 student on the same WIDA scale should be able to chart a character's development from the beginning of a story to the end. For this level, I would propose a similar assignment with a different focus: rather than follow the story line, the flowchart would follow the actions and events surrounding a single character, and make note of how each event changes the character, for better or worse (A character slowly learning an important moral, or another character's descent into evil/madness, for example).

The WIDA standards provide a guide for identifying what a student should be able to accomplish in order to advance both their language and content skills. A teacher's responsibility is to know the guide and implement it to the best of their ability.

Of course, in so doing, all language skills, listening, speaking, reading, and writing, must be integrated into lessons. The value of performance-based activities in the classroom cannot be understated – which is why I believe that drama teachers have the best potential to be great ESL teachers. Having a group of students read a section from a novel or short story and then, in groups, act out the scene in front of the class, has always proven to be very effective in developing students' abilities to read, comprehend, and then perform. And why stop at literature? Couldn't students just as easily “act out” scenes from history, or even scientific concepts? I once saw a group of students, wearing signs that read “T-cell” and “virus,” represent the immune system in front of the class.

When performing scenes from plays, I've found a variant which works well, and is enjoyable to do besides: In a dialogue, or similar scene with a small number of characters (I've used the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet in the past, but if the students aren't ready for Shakespeare, any play will do), each character is assigned to two students who have prepared ahead of time: One student reads aloud from the text, giving the lines the necessary voice, emotion, etc., which the other “performs,” pantomiming the action of the scene in front of the class. In this way, one student reads and speaks, the other listens and acts. The lesson can either begin or end with a short essay or similar written assignment in which the student describes their character's action in the scene. In this way, opportunities for listening, speaking, reading, and writing have been combined in a single lesson. These are just a few possibilities to combine content and English instruction in a classroom.

In summation, we have to always remember that language does not exist in a vacuum, nor should it be studied strictly for its own sake -- language is both a product of and a tool to understand a particular culture, and students who wish to be truly bilingual must also strive to be bicultural -- learning their new culture while never losing sight of the importance of their own.