This lesson I gave a less than superb performance. The slot had increased from 30 to 40 minutes, and I had left parts of the lesson unscripted. I had a general idea of what I wanted to get through, but I made no attempt during the lesson to check the clock and/or lesson plan to see if I was on track. Also I had decided to allow the lesson's course to be decided somewhat during the lesson itself. I guess that isn't such a universally bad thing, but what this meant was that I was more than happy to follow up each and every diverting path, which left the lesson feeling rather unfocussed. Also, all these diversions happened during the opening, Teacher-centric portion of the class (during which I provided a narrative to elicit and teach new vocabulary) which was already too long. I was trying to teach too much vocabulary.
That aside we had two good slots in the morning about teaching listening and lexis. And my lesson plan for today's lesson was good at least (even if i failed to follow it's impeccable timing.)
One thing that is hitting me is that CELTA teaches you strategies for effective teaching, rather than how to teach English per se. I really need an excellent English-language analysis text that I can read, so that when students ask me things about the language I know. Maybe there doesn't exist such a single volume. Had trouble today trying to teach the difference between 'journey' and 'trip'. You might think they are synonymous until you remember your journey to Germany last year, or was that your trip to Germany?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Day three: my first Teaching Practice lesson!
I have always hated giving presentations. Standing in front of a group of people and attempting to present something to them. That 'us and them' situation, with you on one side, and a body of critical observers on the other.
I haven't done it very many times in my life. Maybe 20 or 30 throughout my entire school years, University degree, and professional career. You can see how I avoided having to do it if at all possible. Whenever I did have to do it, it was invariably a failure. I never quite understood why. Often I would prepare meticulously: think through what I wanted to say, practise it in front of the cat, make sure I was comfortable with my topic and ready to answer questions.
Yet every single time when the moment came to Actually Do It, the fight-or-flight response would kick in and I would find myself operating behind a haze of adrenaline. It would shut down nearly my whole brain, and leave me feeling like I was seeing through a long narrow tunnel to the outside world, barely aware of what was going on, barely able to control my own mind and body enough to remember even basic things (like what I was supposed to be talking about) or walk or stand naturally. I think in real life what I lack in basic intuitive abilities I compensate for with deliberate conscious learned behaviours. The typical geek, with little social skills, but a 'brain the size of a planet' to quote the legendary Marvin.
This strategy works fine when that brain is working at something like full capacity. But introduce a rogue element, such as drugs, lack of sleep, or adrenaline, and the conscious mind starts going blank. And unfortunately the unconscious mind, suddenly thrown onto the controls, makes a very lacking backup pilot. Just see what happens if I don't sleep one night: I become totally childish the next day.
Added to this has been the terrible curse of habitual behaviour. A human is very liable, after often acting a certain way in a certain situation, to go on acting like that for ever more, and it can be very difficult to break those habits, even when you become aware of them.
But somehow, today, something happened different. I still started the lesson gabbling. I still went to fast at some points. I still have a lot to learn. But, for 30 minutes, I more or less held a group's attention, and provided them with useful task which enabled them to accomplish goals -- to learn and practise English. And the fact that I had a generally successful experience in front of a group means that I can perhaps start to break that unhelpful habitual pattern, and start to build a better association with standing up in front of people. I had great fun today, despite the nerves and the horror. It gave me a buzz.
Teaching a self-selecting group who don't know each other, such as evening classes, has some huge advantages over a group who already know each other and are there only under duress (such as schoolchildren.) Much is made of the "information gap" in language teaching materials: the idea that language acquisition is by far most effective when driven by a genuine need to communicate. The hotelier knows whether there's rooms available, and I need a room. I soon remember how to ask that, and to understand the response. And I don't forget. But theat presupposes a genuine situation (me travelling in a foreign country) and a genuine need for information. In the classroom, doing such an exercise is basically artificial: "student A" really doesn't need a room, as he is going home to his house tonight, and even if he were, he wouldn't be asking "student B" because he doesn't run a hotel anyway!
But with a group who don't know each other, they are there for a social event as well as to learn English. They naturally seek opportunities to get to know their fellow students. All you have to do is police, to ensure that only English is used, and they teach themselves! Or at least give each other practice in listening and speaking. Which are both crucial skills.
With a class of schoolchildren, they are already a clique (with sub-cliques): you are the outsider. But with evening classes, the students pay attention to you because they are in a sense all outsiders, so there is no territorialism going on. Which leaves you as the logical focus for attention, because you are the authority (they hope) on what it is they want to learn.
I worry about transferring these skills to a classroom. But it is certainly true, and has been repeated a number of times by people on the course, that Colombians are excellent learners. They engage, they aren't too boisterous/disruptive but are neither too withdrawn and unapproachable, and they having a real desire to learn English.
I haven't done it very many times in my life. Maybe 20 or 30 throughout my entire school years, University degree, and professional career. You can see how I avoided having to do it if at all possible. Whenever I did have to do it, it was invariably a failure. I never quite understood why. Often I would prepare meticulously: think through what I wanted to say, practise it in front of the cat, make sure I was comfortable with my topic and ready to answer questions.
Yet every single time when the moment came to Actually Do It, the fight-or-flight response would kick in and I would find myself operating behind a haze of adrenaline. It would shut down nearly my whole brain, and leave me feeling like I was seeing through a long narrow tunnel to the outside world, barely aware of what was going on, barely able to control my own mind and body enough to remember even basic things (like what I was supposed to be talking about) or walk or stand naturally. I think in real life what I lack in basic intuitive abilities I compensate for with deliberate conscious learned behaviours. The typical geek, with little social skills, but a 'brain the size of a planet' to quote the legendary Marvin.
This strategy works fine when that brain is working at something like full capacity. But introduce a rogue element, such as drugs, lack of sleep, or adrenaline, and the conscious mind starts going blank. And unfortunately the unconscious mind, suddenly thrown onto the controls, makes a very lacking backup pilot. Just see what happens if I don't sleep one night: I become totally childish the next day.
Added to this has been the terrible curse of habitual behaviour. A human is very liable, after often acting a certain way in a certain situation, to go on acting like that for ever more, and it can be very difficult to break those habits, even when you become aware of them.
But somehow, today, something happened different. I still started the lesson gabbling. I still went to fast at some points. I still have a lot to learn. But, for 30 minutes, I more or less held a group's attention, and provided them with useful task which enabled them to accomplish goals -- to learn and practise English. And the fact that I had a generally successful experience in front of a group means that I can perhaps start to break that unhelpful habitual pattern, and start to build a better association with standing up in front of people. I had great fun today, despite the nerves and the horror. It gave me a buzz.
Teaching a self-selecting group who don't know each other, such as evening classes, has some huge advantages over a group who already know each other and are there only under duress (such as schoolchildren.) Much is made of the "information gap" in language teaching materials: the idea that language acquisition is by far most effective when driven by a genuine need to communicate. The hotelier knows whether there's rooms available, and I need a room. I soon remember how to ask that, and to understand the response. And I don't forget. But theat presupposes a genuine situation (me travelling in a foreign country) and a genuine need for information. In the classroom, doing such an exercise is basically artificial: "student A" really doesn't need a room, as he is going home to his house tonight, and even if he were, he wouldn't be asking "student B" because he doesn't run a hotel anyway!
But with a group who don't know each other, they are there for a social event as well as to learn English. They naturally seek opportunities to get to know their fellow students. All you have to do is police, to ensure that only English is used, and they teach themselves! Or at least give each other practice in listening and speaking. Which are both crucial skills.
With a class of schoolchildren, they are already a clique (with sub-cliques): you are the outsider. But with evening classes, the students pay attention to you because they are in a sense all outsiders, so there is no territorialism going on. Which leaves you as the logical focus for attention, because you are the authority (they hope) on what it is they want to learn.
I worry about transferring these skills to a classroom. But it is certainly true, and has been repeated a number of times by people on the course, that Colombians are excellent learners. They engage, they aren't too boisterous/disruptive but are neither too withdrawn and unapproachable, and they having a real desire to learn English.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Day two: lesson planning and group's first teaching practice
A lot goes into planning a lesson. Even a 30 minute slot seems to need a lot of thought put into it -- overall aims, language/vocab/grammar to present, and a stage-by-stage plan for what the teacher will do and say, and what the students might do or say.
In the afternoon four of our group of six taught. They all gave excellent lessons I thought. Of course they all had som areas to work on such as using Concept Checking Questions, increasing Student time over Teacher Time, and other CELTAisms, but this was starting from a basis of being competent teachers, able to hold their own in front of 20 students.
I feel very nervous about my own 30 minutes tomorrow, because for me 90% of the battle is actually the 'public speaking' side of it. Will my nerves get the better of me and make a fool of me in front of everyone?
I got quite a lot of detailed help from the tutor on how I should run my 30 mins, and I have sat and thought it out carefully (even writing out a 'script' to get it straight in my head, although of course I won't be referring to that during the lesson!), but whether I'll be able to present any sort of coherent approximation to that great, relaxed lesson in my head in front of 20 pairs of eyes remains to be seen.
Reading the Teaching Practice Handbook this evening has cheered me up a bit by reminding me that TP (Teaching Practice) is just that -- like a dry run of actual teaching. It even says that making mistakes and things going wrong is sometimes more useful that a smooth-running lesson. More useful for the trainee teachers that is -- both myself and my fellow trainees. From the students point of view, they do expect to get taught, and be kept engaged, and have some fun, and al the other expectations they would have of any teacher (even though they're getting these lessons free). I really have to remember to concentrate on the frame that its a game, a test, a closed world, an opportunity to screw up and try out different things. Rather than thinking its the real world and that it really matters what those people think of me.
It's interesting because teaching language is different than teaching another subject, because communication is not just the means of teaching, it is the teaching. You need to develop a social rapport with your students, chat to them, be interested in their lives, respond appropriately to their interest in yours, and so on. A bit like a cocktail party. Of course going on behind that you are scheming away Machiavellianly making sure they get practise in certain vocabulary or grammatical structures, but really that should almost be concealed from them. There are tricks of teaching people language, but that stuff has to live on a firm foundation of basic establishment of a social rapport.
It's curious that I am doing this course when I have never (in 29 years) really managed to develop good social skills. Why do I think that I will be able to now? Well, for one, I think I might be able to fake it. It is a closed world, even in a 'real' teaching environment. It is artificial. It is limited in time and scope. You can just pretend. Maybe all social interaction is about pretending, but pretending/acting in a classroom seems much more manageable than trying or having to do it 24/7 in your daily life.
The other thought I have is that someone once said to me that you only get good at public speaking when you get relaxed, and that only comes with practise. Do a challenging thing enough and it just becomes routine. I hope that's true. I guess I'll find out.
Also, there are the technical aspects of teaching to distract from the social element. At a cocktail party there is only the social element: if you meet someone with a common interest in politics or motorcycle maintenance and end up in a corner having a great discussion for 3 hours until everyone else has left, you have failed. That knowledge, that you must be 100% aware of your social performance, and not let any technical considerations come into play at any time, is responsible for a lot of anxiety. In teaching, there are valid technical considerations too, and you can use those as a comfort blanket when the social side is going less well or seems hard.
In the afternoon four of our group of six taught. They all gave excellent lessons I thought. Of course they all had som areas to work on such as using Concept Checking Questions, increasing Student time over Teacher Time, and other CELTAisms, but this was starting from a basis of being competent teachers, able to hold their own in front of 20 students.
I feel very nervous about my own 30 minutes tomorrow, because for me 90% of the battle is actually the 'public speaking' side of it. Will my nerves get the better of me and make a fool of me in front of everyone?
I got quite a lot of detailed help from the tutor on how I should run my 30 mins, and I have sat and thought it out carefully (even writing out a 'script' to get it straight in my head, although of course I won't be referring to that during the lesson!), but whether I'll be able to present any sort of coherent approximation to that great, relaxed lesson in my head in front of 20 pairs of eyes remains to be seen.
Reading the Teaching Practice Handbook this evening has cheered me up a bit by reminding me that TP (Teaching Practice) is just that -- like a dry run of actual teaching. It even says that making mistakes and things going wrong is sometimes more useful that a smooth-running lesson. More useful for the trainee teachers that is -- both myself and my fellow trainees. From the students point of view, they do expect to get taught, and be kept engaged, and have some fun, and al the other expectations they would have of any teacher (even though they're getting these lessons free). I really have to remember to concentrate on the frame that its a game, a test, a closed world, an opportunity to screw up and try out different things. Rather than thinking its the real world and that it really matters what those people think of me.
It's interesting because teaching language is different than teaching another subject, because communication is not just the means of teaching, it is the teaching. You need to develop a social rapport with your students, chat to them, be interested in their lives, respond appropriately to their interest in yours, and so on. A bit like a cocktail party. Of course going on behind that you are scheming away Machiavellianly making sure they get practise in certain vocabulary or grammatical structures, but really that should almost be concealed from them. There are tricks of teaching people language, but that stuff has to live on a firm foundation of basic establishment of a social rapport.
It's curious that I am doing this course when I have never (in 29 years) really managed to develop good social skills. Why do I think that I will be able to now? Well, for one, I think I might be able to fake it. It is a closed world, even in a 'real' teaching environment. It is artificial. It is limited in time and scope. You can just pretend. Maybe all social interaction is about pretending, but pretending/acting in a classroom seems much more manageable than trying or having to do it 24/7 in your daily life.
The other thought I have is that someone once said to me that you only get good at public speaking when you get relaxed, and that only comes with practise. Do a challenging thing enough and it just becomes routine. I hope that's true. I guess I'll find out.
Also, there are the technical aspects of teaching to distract from the social element. At a cocktail party there is only the social element: if you meet someone with a common interest in politics or motorcycle maintenance and end up in a corner having a great discussion for 3 hours until everyone else has left, you have failed. That knowledge, that you must be 100% aware of your social performance, and not let any technical considerations come into play at any time, is responsible for a lot of anxiety. In teaching, there are valid technical considerations too, and you can use those as a comfort blanket when the social side is going less well or seems hard.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Day 1: orientation and a little irish
A first day of first day things. Mainly administration and team bonding. Outside of this there were a few highlights. In the morning, we were treated to a half-hour lesson in Gaelic, which gave us a great opportunity to be back in the student's chair, only half-understanding what's going on, and also to experience a range of teaching strategies first-hand.
Then in the afternoon we observed a lesson with some 'guinea-pig' students (receiving free lessons in return for having to have them taught by us, haha!), discussed the approach, and prepared for our teaching tomorrow. I discovered that I was the only one of the six who had no previous teaching practice -- luckily for me I am not in the first four who are teaching tomorrow, so I have until Thursday to prepare my farce.
Then in the afternoon we observed a lesson with some 'guinea-pig' students (receiving free lessons in return for having to have them taught by us, haha!), discussed the approach, and prepared for our teaching tomorrow. I discovered that I was the only one of the six who had no previous teaching practice -- luckily for me I am not in the first four who are teaching tomorrow, so I have until Thursday to prepare my farce.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Introduction
Tomorrow I start the Cambridge CELTA course at the British Council here in Bogota, Colombia. It lasts five weeks, with four days scheduled work a week. I am assured that I will be working plenty outside those four days though. See details at the British Council site.
I will be keeping an online daily journal on this blog. It is mainly for my own use, to track my learning, but perhaps it will be useful to someone else doing this course in the future!
Right, I need to go and sharpen my pencils, organise my folders, and enjoy my last few hours of free time before it takes over my life for the next month. Wish me luck!
I will be keeping an online daily journal on this blog. It is mainly for my own use, to track my learning, but perhaps it will be useful to someone else doing this course in the future!
Right, I need to go and sharpen my pencils, organise my folders, and enjoy my last few hours of free time before it takes over my life for the next month. Wish me luck!
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