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.

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