Of course it is, you might argue. After all, isn't that how
children learn to speak their native tongues? But what about learning a second language,
while still embroiled in learning your first one? Is full immersion English
learning possible in China?
I have a clear idea of how I'd like to engage in such
teaching. Parents, teacher and students form a learning community.Teacher works
really hard to impart fundamentals such as speech and grammar in an informal
setting – say, sitting around in a circle, with nary a desk in sight. For
example:
Topic: Colors
Each color is introduced, and its name repeated until spoken
correctly by all of the students. Plenty of visual aids to go along with the
oral lesson. Of course, hands on materials such as flash cards and magnetic
boards should be used. Once the colors'
names are learned (by both parents and students), connections are made.
The red dress, the green sweater, and so on. The topic is further
reinforced through songs about colors, and then a scavenger hunt ensues,
wherein parent/child teams must find different colored items on a prepared
list. Everything is done in English.
Ideally, parents actively participate in the learning and
encourage their children. While each lesson only lasts at most 45 minutes –
long enough for a young child's attention span to remain captivated, the reason
the parents should sit in is so that the learning is reinforced at home. Having
class every 3 days should be sufficient to ensure proper pronunciation of the
subject material, and grammar fundamentals are learned passively, by repetition
of proper sentence structure throughout the lessons.
I've tried twice to engage in this style of full immersion
teaching, both times with small children, around age 5. Both time I met with
less than stellar success.
The first time was in a more formal setting. My friends had
set up a classroom environment, enrolled the students and saw to the
administrative side of running a school. All I had to do was teach. I thought I
had communicated, and we had agreed on how I would teach: actively, with
students' and parents' participation. What I was met with were parents that sat
in the other room, drinking tea and wondering why the class was so loud. They
disapproved of the dancing and singing and playing, of the hands-on method of
learning, and flat out refused to actively participate. In the end, their
complaints led me to teach in a more traditional Chinese style: emphasis on
rote learning, writing, plenty of sitting at desks and raising of hands. I
couldn't reconcile that archaic image with what I picture a full immersion
English class for young learners to be. The experiment ended a few months
later.
After that dismal failure, I shelved the idea of teaching
full immersion English. I wasn't feeling well at that time anyway, and rushing
across town twice a week to conduct class in such an oppressive atmosphere
didn't help me feel any better. Although it was nice to have the extra money, I
couldn't handle the stifling environment.
That was a few years back, and I don't know what happened to
those friends. They 'dumped' me after that failed experiment. I went to the
coffee shop they owned in an arty part of town and their shop had closed down.
Recently I found out they had moved back to Thailand. And that's the end of
that story.
These days I feel so much better! I have tons of energy and,
aside from painful twinges from my still healing leg, race around and do and
do. As you know from 2 posts back (See I'm Back! Entry), I'm teaching as many
courses as my Chinese counterparts at my university, and that keeps me pretty
busy, but long before that – before I broke my leg, even, I had made a promise
to my friend, Sam. I wanted to volunteer at his little daughter's kindergarten,
teaching English. He was over the moon at the prospect!
Starting fall semester, I reminded him of my promise and
averred I was physically capable and more than willing to make good on it in
spite of my busy schedule at the uni. However, he countered that volunteering
at Erica's school would pose a problem because I would, in effect, be taking
work away from the English teacher already working there. He suggested a
compromise: we would hold class in his apartment, with parents in attendance.
I had explained to him the idea that I had for full immersion
and he agreed it was possibly the best way to teach English, you see. At his
proposal, my dream of full immersion resurged. Surely, with Sam working with
me, I could make a go of it!
I'm not faulting anyone except myself. Bear that in mind
while you read this next.
Sam and his wife Penney arranged for 6 students to come on
Saturday morning, parents in tow. The lesson started well. Everyone was eager
for what might turn out to be a learning discovery, and the parents were
certainly appreciative that I would volunteer my time. That first lesson, all
of the parents sat in and practiced. They translated everything I said. Soon,
the kids faced me while I talked, and then turned to their parents for
translation. The parents, naturally, obliged.
Discussing the class afterwards with Sam, I indicated that
translation was not the point of the class, but that the kids should get used
to following simple instructions in English: Sit down (I demonstrate by sitting
down), Stand up (raise my hands and stand to indicate standing) and so on. Even
if the children did not recognize the gestures, the parents should have, and
they did, instructing the kids in Chinese on what to do.
The next week, only 2 parents sat in. The week after that,
all of the parents had retreated to the other room and closed the door, so as
to not distract the little tykes from the lesson. I suspect it is because I
didn't clearly communicate my vision of how the class should run.
Of course, the kids like the lessons because they are fun and
interactive, but they have a hard time recognizing that it is learning time,
not playing time, so they get unruly. Erica, Sam's daughter, went to get her
mother, who sat in on the class. She disciplined while I attempted to teach.
While reading Snow White (in English), I reconciled myself to another
failure.
As of now, the plan has been scrubbed. It is a lot of stress
for me – busy as I am anyway, and then preparing materials and conducting
class; for Sam and Penney, who end up hosting the kids left by their parents,
and for the parents themselves, who have plenty of other things to do on their
days off. This colder weather is not helping, either. I still believe a full
immersion curriculum is possible but I haven't found the right way to do it.
Do you agree with me that a good teacher should connect with
her students, and have a good understanding with their parents (if they are
younger learners)? That's what I strive for in my classes. And, while we have
no trouble bonding, it seems that teaching is an either/or proposition. Either
I should engage in a formal setting where the kids recognize they are to go
into 'learning mode', or we play and all thoughts of learning is out the
window. Naturally, the parents do not consider their children to be learning if
they are playing.
I can't seem to find a middle ground. I would love to make a
go of this type of teaching, but apparently cannot communicate how it is
supposed to work. Or, am I battling the age-old Chinese ideal of learning:
desk, raised hands, lectures, and such? Is such full immersion possible if the
parents do not reinforce what their children learn?
Do you have any suggestions?
No comments:
Post a Comment