Questioning the coursebook

Hugh Dellar posted a while back about the generalisations regarding specific cultures that pervade a lot of ELT coursebooks. You can read his post here. I was struck by one criticism he made of a particular coursebook - that there was a piece of text that spouted some stereotypes followed by comprehension questions that essentially reinforced the message from the text. Hugh was making the point that this kind of thing is widespread and therefore, there is scope for trainee teachers to be made more aware of cultural sensitivity.

I found myself thinking - given students are likely to spend a lot of time with coursebooks - perhaps we can turn the problems of a coursebook to our advantage. Perhaps we can use the coursebook in ways that go beyond its intended purpose. That we could use the familiarity of the coursebook as the first step in a conversation about critical thinking.

Often, when encouraging students to think critically, I use resources like online articles, newspapers, blogposts. But perhaps the coursebook is the natural starting point for students to start challenging a text in English. Throw in a question or two that have nothing to do with the task being asked of them - the purpose being simply to encourage thinking beyond the coursebook.

• Who do you think wrote this? 
• Why do you think he wants you to learn this vocabulary/grammar?
• Why do you think there is so much colour on this page?
• Why do you think there is a cartoon here?
• In this reading about cultures around the world, do you think it's really true what they say about people in......? If its not true, why do you think they're saying it?

At higher levels, a lot of texts for examinations tend to be newspaper style reports on research. As well as getting students to answer multiple choice questions, match headings and fill in gaps, why not throw in a few questions that challenge the content of the text.

• How do you think they found out that 70% of people think this, or do that?
• Where do you think this research was carried out? Do you think the results would be true for every country?
• What do you think is the purpose of this text - to persuade you; to educate you; to frighten you?
• This article on car usage paints a very negative picture. Do you think there is another side to the story?
• Why do you think so many of these articles are about stress? What does this say about materials developers?

On a lot of listening CDs you often find actors pretending to be non-native speakers. I always found this a bit odd, and kind of offensive, but perhaps there is scope for introducing a tiny bit of critical thinking here.

• Do you think that person is really from ........?
• Why didn't they just find someone from that country?

Or even just trying to infer something about the people speaking on the CD. 

• Did you think he sounded a bit annoyed? 
• A lot of these professors seem to be men - why aren't there more female professors on this CD?
• Where are all the Irish people on this CD?

Or with speaking exercises - encouraging students to consider whether the question might be leading them slightly. I often see these really loaded questions in books - Do you think children today spend too much time playing video games? Wouldn't it be nice to hear a student answer no, not enough actually to this question? 

Correcting written work

Coming back to work after two weeks of freedom and cake eating is always difficult. Coming back to work to face the pile of corrections you put off is a trauma. Instead of getting stuck into it, I've found myself thinking a lot about correcting written work over the last few days - the value and the best way to go about doing it. It can be a bit of a depressing rabbit hole to disappear down - the what is the best approach conundrum - but I'll do anything to put off correcting.

This article by Jay Schwartz argues the case for using correction codes (e.g. Sp = spelling mistake). I'm not a fan. The idea seems good but it never seems that workable. For it to work, you have to spend a lot of time indoctrinating students into the code. And even then, it can be confusing or unhelpful. Sp is fine - grab a dictionary - but if you write WW (wrong word), are the students really going to figure out what the right word is? Surely when they were writing, they thought the word they chose was the right one. Is a WW going to be all that helpful? How do they know the new word is better than the old one? If they show the correction to you, do you then write another WW if it isn't the word you had in mind? And are students really motivated by these codes? I wonder.

I believe Truscott kicked things off by calling for error correction to be abandoned - that it doesn't work and is demotivating. This article  by Ronald Gray offers a very thorough overview of research into the effectiveness of grammar correction, most of which finds that specific grammar correction (be it highlighting mistakes, using correction codes or specifically identifying and correcting the mistake) doesn't really work. But like most teachers, it can be hard to put down the red pen. How will they know its a mistake if I don't tell them? Sure, I can point out stuff about paragraphing, topic sentences, etc., but can I just stand by and watch a verb be conjugated like that?

In this video, Jeremy Harmer discusses the sensitivity of correcting errors; the judgements teachers need to make in deciding whether to correct or not. This talk relates to error correction of spoken English, but the sensitivity around correction equally applies to giving feedback on written work.

Scott Thornbury makes interesting points here in relation to general error correction (as well as leading a discussion here on what constitute errors and how to deal with them). One specific suggestion he makes which could be directly applied to written error correction is to...

"Recast it.  Reformulate the learners’ interlanguage productions into a more target-like form. This is not the same as correction. It is simply a way of indicating “I know what you’re trying to say; this is how I would say it”."

I like this. But sometimes, I am not sure what they are trying to say.

In short, I find correcting stressful because I am not sure of the best approach; because I have a lot to do and little time to do it; and because I have to balance the approach I take with the students' expectations. Saying that, I find it helpful to think less about correction and more about goals.

• Am I correcting simply to establish a grade or give a student an idea of their level? 
• Am I correcting for the purpose of helping them to improve their language skills? 
• Or am I correcting because another human being has tried to communicate something to me and rather than correcting, my goal is to offer a human response to what they have written?

Of course, really, I should be first asking myself, what was the student's goal in writing this for me. This then informs the way in which I respond to what they have written. If a student writes looking for a grade, and I don't give one, that could be demotivating. If the student wants feedback, and I don't give any, that could be demotivating. But if a student wants some form of human reaction, if their goal was to communicate, and I give a cold assessment of their grammar mistakes, that is arguably the most discouraging response I could offer.

So generally, I find the safest option is to give a bit of all three. Give them a grade. Point out an error or two (perhaps using the recasting method Thornbury suggests). But most importantly, respond to it. If there is an idea that I like, I say so. If there is something that I disagree with, I say why. If I don't understand something, I (kindly) ask them to explain to me. If I think of a related topic they might be interested in, I suggest they check it out.

I'd be very interested to hear how other people go about correcting/giving feedback.

Happy New Year.

End of the year ramble/book review

As a teacher, there is often a temptation to spend all your time thinking up ways to help other people exercise their brains, while neglecting your own. I noticed last year, when I was teaching students from a certain country, that I was always banging on about the importance of reading, while at the same time doing very little myself. If Einstein was right when he said example is the only way to teach, then it is no wonder that so few paid attention to my bumptious ramblings.

This year, I think I have fared a little better. I managed to get through, and enjoy, a few more books than last year:

Hellhound on His Trail is about the assassination of Martin Luther King and the hunt for James Earl Ray. It's essentially written like a thriller but because it's historical, you feel a bit smarter than if you read a Michael Connolly book.

The Beatles Tune In is about the minutiae of the Beatles' lives up until 1962. The amount of detail is overwhelming at times. You get the impression that if Paul McCartney ever wanted to find out what happened to that pair of argyle socks he lost in 1959, all he'd have to do is check out the index, look under socks; then socks owned by Paul McCartney; then go to the subheading socks lost and once he'd found the year, hey presto. Enjoyable, if daunting; the 400 pages or so that span Stuart Sutcliffe's life are worth the price alone.

The Black Dahlia is a fictionalised account of a famous murder that took place in Los Angeles in the 1940s. The book has an incredible amount of energy and is almost pugilistic.

Various books by Denis Lehane. Gone, Baby, Gone and Mystic River are staggeringly good; Moonlight Mile a little less so.

I mention all of this for two reasons. The first is that I am on Christmas holidays now and so my thoughts on teaching are more ponderous than practical.

Secondly, I think making the effort to read a lot more has benefitted my students. I have absolutely no evidence for this but I'd put a very small amount of money on it being true. It may be because I am more alert and zen if I spend my lunch break reading rather than playing Blastbilliards. Or perhaps it is because my time away from the class feels longer, richer, from stepping into a book for twenty minutes and forgetting about correcting. At the very least, I can delude myself into thinking that the sight of me reading a book somewhere on campus might be the thing to push a student over the edge and into a library.

I would be very curious to hear how other teachers keep their brains ticking over.

Happy Christmas and all the best for 2015.

The old school Interactive Whiteboard

The title of this post is a bit misleading. I've never used a proper interactive whiteboard. I was in a room with one before, but it was switched off. So really, my interaction with it didn't go much further than this. I've heard loads of wonderful things about them but I've done most of my teaching on this kind of whiteboard.

You can write on both sides, you can move it anywhere you like, you can stand on the side bit to make yourself taller, you can hide behind it. I absolutely adore these beauties and thought it might be interesting to share a few ways in which we use them in class so that the students can interact with them a bit more.

1. Vocabulary revision

To do this, you would need a whiteboard on wheels, lots of board pens and vocabulary to revise. I split the class into two groups and set the board up in the middle of the room so there is one group either side, each student with a pen. They then have 10 minutes to write vocabulary we have studied that week up on the board. The catch is that each word/phrase has to be in a sentence.

After the ten minutes, they then have 5 minutes to check the grammar/spelling for their group's sentences. Then I turn the board around and they check each other's work. If they decide the word was used correctly, they tick it. If they decide it was used incorrectly, they mark it with an X. By the end, we have a total score.

Finally, both groups can argue the score the other group has given them. If they believe a sentence marked incorrect is actually correct, then they can argue and try to get it changed. It tends to get chaotic (and the board ends up looking a bit manic) but is very enjoyable.

2. Writing

If I've asked the students to do a short writing in class, say a paragraph on a particular topic, I can duck behind the board and write up a sample while they're working away. Because they can't see what I'm writing, they don't get distracted. Later on I can use that sample as a dictogloss, a running dictation, a way to demonstrate a particular structure/technique or just let the students mine it for language (inevitably they will take a photo of it).

3. Listening

Students who are taking an IELTS exam will probably have to write down some numbers or spell somebody's name in part 1 of the listening test. I sometimes duck behind the board, write up some numbers/awkward names and read them/spell them out for the students to jot down. Because they can't see my mouth it makes it a bit trickier. Because I can't see them, I am less likely to change my pace to accommodate them. Then I can turn the board around and let them see how they did.

4. Graphs

Sorry, this is another IELTS example. It's really just a variation on something that I came across in John Marks' IELTS Resource Pack. In that book, there is an activity where one student has to describe an IELTS Writing Part 1 style graph to their partner, who then draws it. With the whiteboard you can divide the class into two groups, one group either side. One person from each group stands at the board with a pen while their colleagues describe the graph to them (don't let them use body language). After a certain amount of time, you can flip the board around and see whose graph is closest to the original.

If your whiteboard is attached to the wall, you probably haven't read this far. If you're lucky enough to have a state of the art interactive whiteboard, then please let me know what I'm missing out on. But if you have a whiteboard on wheels and legs, I hope there was something of use for you in this post.

Homework

I came across this website today, (via The Oxford ELT Daily) in which Larry Ferlazzo shares some interesting posts on homework. They are mostly geared towards teaching children, but I think the topic might be of interest in EAP or general ELT classes with mature students.

Generally speaking, I think we would agree that asking students to do some work outside of class is a good thing. They can reinforce what they've learned, dig into things a bit deeper, get ready for the next lesson. However, I've run into quite a few practical problems with homework over the years, so I thought it might be of interest to share how I have dealt with them.

(Note: The word homework can come with a bit of baggage so feel free to refer to it in a way that sounds more appealing.)

1. Most of the students don't do the homework.

If I'm in a playful mood, I might ask the two sets of students to interview each other. The non-homework group might ask questions to find out what the homework was, how long it took, what they learned, whether it was interesting or boring. The homework group might ask questions to find out why they didn't do it, what they did instead, what their plans for future homework are.

2. Most of the students don't do the homework.

If I'm in a grumpy teacher mood, I might ask the students who didn't do homework to sit together and work on it while the rest of us correct/discuss. I used to not correct if the majority hadn't done it, but I think it is more important to establish, and stick to, the expectations you have for the class (you could do something at the start of the course to make those expectations clear  - some sort of negotiation/contract that they can all contribute to and agree on). In some very awkward situations, I've corrected homework when only 1 student did it. But my experience has been that this number goes up if you are clear that you expect homework every day.

3. Most of the students don't do the homework.

If I'm in a reflective mood, I might take the blame and apologise for the quality of the homework. Again, speaking only from experience, I have seen a direct correlation between the amount of thought I put into setting the homework and the pick up from students. This point has been made in other places, like here, but it bears repeating. My rule of thumb is that I set homework that I would like to do myself. I like reading articles on topics that I find interesting. I like learning new vocabulary if I know someone is going to quiz me the next day. I like writing something that I have an opinion on, especially if I know someone will read it. I like watching or listening to stuff and talking about it. And I keep an eye out for the homework that really sparks. For instance, this video always goes over like gangbusters when I have asked students to watch it.

Click here for a PDF homework lesson for Benjamin Zander Ted Talk

4. Most of the students don't do the homework.

If this is a recurring problem, I will make time for the students and find out how I can help. My students tend to be between 18 and 25 and for a few of them, time management is the thing. Just chatting to them, showing an interest and concern, can help them find a way to meet the expectations of the class. For instance, they may be trying to do their homework at a time of the day when they're tired. Encouraging them to experiment with different times can be helpful (e.g. coming to class 30 minutes earlier when they're fresh might be more productive than trying to do their work at 10pm after a heavy dinner).

5. Most of the students don't do the homework.

If this has been going on for a while, and nothing is working, then I may be asking too much. I still want them to do something but if they are overloaded, we can renegotiate and find a better balance.

Would be curious to hear other teachers' thoughts on homework.

Nominalisation

I came across this video via a post by Jennifer MacDonald on the #tleap discussion forum. Essentially, the video is a warning against overuse of nominalisation. Fair point. Overuse of most things is generally a bad thing. However, in her blog, Jennifer MacDonald makes the point that nominalisation is a feature of academic writing, and as such, should be something we look at with students. Stan Carey also discusses the point here.

I think I may have missed the point when watching the video. Rather than be horrified by nominalisation, I found myself thinking that there could be a good lesson in this. The students that I work with at the moment, tend to start every sentence with an agent (e.g. Many people think.....The Government should.....You need to.....etc.) so a bit of nominalisation might be no bad thing (in fairness to the video, I think it is aimed at proficient writers of English who might get bogged down in a waffly style of writing).

With this lesson, the idea was to introduce nominalisation in a very gentle way, guiding the students to figure it out themselves rather than overload them with rules.

I also thought it might be nice to direct students towards the debate that started me off on this post. It occurs to me that in EAP teachers' blogs, there is a lot that would be of interest to students, as much as to teachers, and it would, therefore, be nice to invite them into the discussion. So, the homework part of this lesson tries to do just that.

Once you've introduced the idea of nominalisation to students, you can do lots of nice things afterwards. Give them a text and ask them to find examples of nominalisations. Peer correct writing and find opportunities to use nominalisation (in fact, it could become part of your feedback - Nom. as shorthand for "you could use a bit of nominalisation here"). Ask them to find texts in their areas and look for nominalisation.

If you have any comments or suggestions, please do let me know.

Click here for the Lesson PDF

Twitter and Summarising

I wanted to write a post on using Twitter in the classroom. I think I should preface it first by saying that I am hopelessly behind when it comes to using any form of technology in teaching. I've really only started using Twitter in the last couple of weeks and am struggling with the etiquette (should you email someone to ask if you can follow them?), the fear of missing something interesting if I don't check in hourly and the surge of joy when I get a new follower (up to 7 at the time of writing!).

There are plenty of other blogs with very interesting things to say on technology. Eltmakespace has some nice stuff on using Google Maps and pronunciation. 4C in ELT is always worth a visit. And I've only skimmed their webpage, but TheConsultants-E have a nice resource bank of technology based lesson plans.

So in saying all of that, I've tried to approach this post on Twitter with two things in mind. First, that there might be other teachers like me who wouldn't really be all that tech-savvy, but who might want to try something new. Second, to see if Twitter could offer anything of value in the EAP classroom.

I should mention that I was inspired in putting this lesson together by my colleague who teaches Mathematics - he uses the approach I am going to suggest, but with sums.

Recently, my students have been working on a project that involves them listening to a 20 minute lecture and performing various tasks. One of these is to write a summary of the lecture. In fact, so many of the tasks that they are required to do involve summarising. This is something that many students struggle with; the default setting being to include an excessive amount of detail so that the summary ends up not really being a summary. As a result, they may miss out on the global sense, the main idea that the text is trying to convey, seeing it instead as a long list of facts that they cannot engage with. Essentially, they get bogged down in the details.

Perhaps this is where Twitter could come in. The limitation of 140 characters makes it ideal for summarising.

Possible lesson

1. Provide students with the text that you are working with that day.
2. Their goal is to read the text and tweet a summary of it in as few characters as possible.
3. They use a hashtag that you create (e.g. #'textname'sum). That way, you can see all the summaries on your feed. Also, the students can see each other's.
4. To make it competitive, they have to click favourite of the summary that they think is best. The one with the most favourites, wins.

This could be done in class or as a homework assignment.

Potential problems (and some get arounds)

1. Some students may not be on Twitter. Might be worth checking out if they are before rolling in with this lesson. If some people are not, then perhaps it could be a group exercise and the one with the Twitter account tweets her group's summary.

2. Difficult to define what a "best summary" looks like. Perhaps if there is a section of your lesson on the features of a good summary, they might feel better placed to judge each other's work. Also, if you gave them specific instructions for the summary, the "favouriting" would be less subjective (e.g. avoids repeating phrases/language chunks from the text; is most concise; is clearest....)

3. You would have to have wireless in the classroom. Bit harsh to expect students to use up their data when they're already paying to be there. If no wireless, set it as a homework to be completed in the vicinity of a ubiquitous coffee shop.

4. The student voted the best may want something, other than the satisfaction of writing a good summary and the admiration of their peers. A bag of Maltesers should do the trick.