Tag Archives: teaching

How to be a Professional

Professionalism, like common sense, may be most frequently referred to in its absence. “That was so unprofessional.” “I’m bothered by your lack of professionalism.” “You should dress more professionally.” And so on. 

In common parlance, as in the examples above, professionalism refers to a particular type of behavior in white-collar work settings. Professionalism in this sense refers to behaviors such as arriving at appointments and meetings on time, dressing appropriately, meeting deadlines, and speaking respectfully to colleagues. Being professional is a minimum requirement for most workplaces. But being a professional can also refer to one’s membership in a profession, such as the medical profession, the legal profession, or the accountancy profession. Teaching – and since this is a blog devoted to it, specifically English language teaching – may also be a profession, and English language teachers may be able to consider themselves professionals. But why the tentativeness here? 

English language teaching – that is, teaching English to speakers of other languages – has traditionally had a low bar to entry. I started in the field, as many people did, with no formal education or training in it. My first formal qualification – which I earned five years after I began teaching English – was a one-month certificate, the RSA/Cambridge CTEFLA (I was in the last cohort before it became the CELTA). These days there are plenty of copycat certificates, many of them online requiring no actual teaching practice, that permit the holder to claim certification to teach English and are accepted by some English language schools in the U.S. and many other countries.

Certificates like these offer routines to present language and have students practice the four skills (such as PPP – presentation, practice, production), and have a smattering of ‘language awareness’ to give prospective teachers at least a bare-bones knowledge of what they will be teaching. They offer training, which I’ve characterized in another post as ‘the learning of standard routines for predictable situations.’ With only a certificate in hand, one could hardly call oneself a full-fledged professional in the sense of belonging to a professional field. 

Professionals undergo an in-depth education that gives successful students an understanding of the contexts, theories, and practices in the field. It permits them to connect these three so that rather than simply following procedures, they can make informed decisions based on – in English language teaching – an understanding of the teaching and learning context, teaching and learning theories, and knowledge of effective practices. While some masters degrees in TESOL or Applied Linguistics include a focus on classroom teaching, many also introduce students to second language acquisition, psycholinguistics, sociolinguistics, and language, culture and society, to provide such a broad and deep knowledge background. This background allows individuals in the field to talk to each other using a common vocabulary – in our case terminology and its underlying concepts, such as communicative competence, discourse community,  pragmatics, and, if we choose, linguistic imperialism. 

The distinction between training and education gives a basis for distinguishing non-professionals from professionals in the field of English language teaching. This is not everything, though. Earning a master’s in TESOL clearly does not automatically make one a professional – it is an initiation into the field. In addition to accumulated experience over several years, being a member of the profession requires an ongoing commitment throughout one’s career. If you consider yourself a professional in this field, what, beyond education, is the basis for your professionalism? Some of the following should be on your list. 

Ongoing Professional Development
Through reading, attending conferences, webinars, and in-house workshops, you keep up-to-date with current theories and practices in the field. For example, over the years you will have become familiar with the notions of global English and English as a lingua franca; recognized the limitations of English-only methodology; and gained an increasingly sophisticated approach to error correction. You use your evolving knowledge to try out new ideas in teaching, and importantly, to reflect on and adapt them, and take on new kinds of teaching assignments. You conduct research based in your practice – formally or informally. And you give conference presentations or publish articles in the field’s publications. 

Service
Your institution and the field need the benefit of your input and efforts beyond your classroom teaching if they are to remain dynamic and vibrant. You can serve on committees and working groups in your institution, and organize professional development sessions for your colleagues. You can volunteer and take leadership roles with organizations like TESOL and (in the U.S.) EnglishUSA. You can contribute to your organization’s accreditation effort and become a site reviewer for the accreditor.  

Collaboration and Networking
You make connections with others in the field – and outside it – to identify and find solutions to teaching-related challenges. You are collegial with those inside and outside your organization and become known as a go-to person for advice and consultation. 

Mentorship and Coaching
You pass on your experience and wisdom to those newer in the field and serve as a role model for career development. You help the less-experienced develop conference proposals and articles for publication. 

Advocacy
English learners need the right learning conditions and teachers in order to make progress. English language programs are frequently looked down on in academia. English language schools may struggle with unreasonable regulations. English language teachers teach under challenging conditions, receive poor pay, or cannot find full-time work. As a professional, you become an advocate for English language learners, programs, institutions, your colleagues, and the field. 

Ultimately, being a professional means not simply treating work as a job but rather as something you are invested in, something to which you are making a lifetime commitment. This isn’t easy – work conditions and part-time employment can leave many in our field feeling as though they are always on the receiving end of other people’s decisions, and family commitments can leave little time for professional activities beyond what’s required. But no matter your situation, taking charge of your career through an ongoing commitment to being a member of the profession is a way to empower yourself and your chosen field. You’ll also make lifelong connections and enjoy an enriching professional life. 

Paradoxes and Practices in Classroom Observation

There can’t be that many people who enjoy being observed doing their job and having their performance analyzed. All the worse if the stakes are high and there might be negative consequences for less than stellar performance. Small wonder, then, that having a classroom observer can be a cause of some anxiety and stress for many teachers. 

The Public/Private Paradox of Teaching

Teaching can be seen as both a public and a private activity. Public because teachers in the classroom have an audience – their students. But private because the planning, delivery, and follow-up of classes tends to be a more solitary activity, done apart from colleagues. The private work of the teacher – vis-a-vis colleagues – becomes public only when someone comes to observe the class. 

Purposes of Observation

There are two main purposes for observation: developmental and supervisory. In developmental observation, a teacher is typically observed by a colleague and receives feedback to help improve teaching. Supervisory feedback is an organizational practice that is usually a part of performance evaluation. Whether developmental or supervisory, the practice of observation ‘invades the privacy’ of the classroom. It makes visible to an outsider a web of established relationships, practices, and routines that have been enclosed within four mostly impenetrable walls. And there is a good chance that the thing being observed is changed by the act of being observed – which may partly undermine the purpose of the observation itself. 

The Observer’s Paradox

The characteristic of the observed thing being influenced or changed by its being observed is known as the observer’s paradox. It presents a challenge as the observer cannot get a true picture of the thing being observed (i.e. in its unobserved state). 

Observers of teachers and classrooms encounter this paradox in two ways. First, the observer might want to observe a ‘typical lesson’ to get the best understanding of a teacher’s style. But if it’s decided in advance which lesson will be observed, the teacher might change how s/he teaches, for example by including some favorite techniques or by making a special effort to design a lesson that s/he thinks the observer will want to see. Unannounced observations might overcome this challenge, but will likely exacerbate the second aspect of the paradox, which is that the students and the teacher may feel uncomfortable with the presence of an outsider. This discomfort might make students reluctant to speak, or the teacher’s nervousness may interfere with teaching performance. 

The observer’s paradox can be mitigated to some extent if the teacher and observer follow good practices: plan in advance, agree on the criteria or focus of the observation, and communicate the purpose of the observation to the students. 

Good Practices in Observation

Whether for developmental or supervisory purposes, good observation practice comprises three steps: a pre-observation check-in, the observation itself, and a post-observation review. The pre-observation check-in can serve to build trust between the teacher and observer, and it can provide a focus for the observation. Teacher and observer can discuss the anticipated content of the lesson, the objectives, and the plan. The observer may tell the teacher what s/he will be looking out for, or, in a more collaborative process, the teacher might identify an area of perceived weakness – such as teacher talk time, the clarity of instructions, or the flow of activities – and ask the observer to focus on that.

During the observation, the observer typically finds a discreet place to sit and takes notes, often using an observation tool such as a list of categories to be observed, checked, and commented on. The chosen observation tool can depend on institutional requirements, the preferences of the observer and teacher, and the purpose of the observation. The observation tool can focus the observer’s attention, and having one is usually better than walking into the classroom with no observation plan. 

In the post-observation meeting, the observer and teacher look over the written notes and discuss the lesson. Giving and receiving feedback can be stressful if the lesson didn’t go well or if the observer perceives problems that the teacher is not aware of. Comments such as ‘You need to talk less,’ or ‘Your instructions were unclear and resulted in chaos,’ might stimulate a defensive response in the teacher, who may feel criticized or attacked. A less invasive way of addressing problematic aspects of the lesson is to ask questions, such as, ‘What did you think of the ratio of your talking time to that of your students’?’ or ‘Did you think about pre-teaching any of the vocabulary before asking the students to read the passage?’ How direct feedback is depends on the context: in a teacher training course, a trainer is likely to point out problems and help the trainee teacher develop solutions. In a more collegial environment where the conversation is between fellow professionals, feedback that gives rise to discussion might be more appropriate. 

Who or What is Being Observed, Exactly?

It’s common to think of observation as ‘teacher observation,’ an exercise centered on the performance of one person in the room. This approach might have been appropriate in more teacher-centered days, but in recent years educational theory and practice have moved in the direction of students and to a consideration of the classroom as a learning environment. Robert Diamond (2008) described this change as, “the shift that has been underway in how we describe the role that faculty have in the learning process – the move from being teaching-centered to being learning-centered.” 

He continued:

Robert Barr and John Tagg have described this shift as a move from the instructional delivery system, where faculty are conceived primarily as disciplinary experts who impart knowledge by lecturing, to the “learning paradigm,” which conceives of faculty as primarily the designers of learning environments where they study and apply best methods for producing knowledge and student success (1995, p.24).” Diamond, R.M., Designing and Assessing Courses and Curricula: A Practical Guide, 3rd ed. (2008), p. 190. Jossey Bass.

‘Teacher observation’ may have been more appropriate in teaching-centered classrooms. But in the modern, interactive classroom, the teacher is only one element in what Van Lier described as an ‘ecology’ which offers ‘affordances’ for learning (Van Lier, L., 2004. The Ecology and Semiotics of Language Learning: a Sociological Perspective. Kluwer Academic Publishers). The effective classroom is one that offers students rich affordances or opportunities for learning. The teacher plays a key role in this ecology, but it is also made up of each student, the physical structure and location of the room, the classroom equipment, the wider school environment, even the time of day and stage of the school term. Since the most important question in the learning paradigm concerns student learning, focusing on the activities of the teacher alone in an observation is inadequate. Observers might take a more ecological approach and look for the factors – which of course include the teacher – that encourage or impede student learning. 

This is not to deny that there are more effective and less effective teachers, but in reality it can be challenging to make that determination based on a single classroom observation. There is no easy answer to this: frequent observations will create a greater workload and induce more anxiety. 

Some Ecological Observation Tools

Here are four practices observers can use that acknowledge the classroom as a whole environment that can produce affordances for learning:

  1. The ‘What is Happening Now’ Observation

In this practice, the observer notes what is happening in the room at every five-minute point during the lesson. Going over the raw or edited notes after the class can bring to light the amount of time students vs. the teacher were actively participating or talking, the length of time devoted to an activity (too long, too short, or just right?), whether students were on task, and more. 

  1. Observation for Non-Judgmental Feedback

A useful non-judgmental observation comes from Jim Scrivener’s book Learning Teaching. It encourages a spirit of curiosity on the part of the observer, and invites a shared exploration of what occurred in the classroom by prompting the observer to notice and comment:

I noticed…and I thought…

I noticed…and I wondered…

I noticed…and I wanted to ask you…

I noticed…and I wanted to say to you…

 (Scrivener, J., Learning Teaching, Heinemann 1994, p. 211)

  1. ‘What Helps and What Impedes Learning’ Observation

Also from Scrivener, in this observation, the observer takes in the whole classroom and lesson period, and notes in two columns what is helping students to learn and what is getting in the way of learning. The form could be open or might include categories such as teacher behavior, student attitude, the physical facility and equipment, and so on. The post-observation discussion can affirm what helped students learn, and how impediments to learning might be overcome. 

  1. ‘One Student’ Observation

Here the observer chooses one student for the focus of the observation and unobtrusively watches and notes the ways in which the student appears to be engaged in learning, or simply what the student is doing at regular intervals. It can be tricky to set this observation up effectively and the observer needs to be cautious not to make assumptions about what the student may be experiencing. But noting a single student’s level of activity and engagement can be revealing of the entire learning environment. 

The view of the classroom and the observation practices described here can be a way to explore the learning environment as a whole and the teacher’s role in it, rather than putting the entire focus and responsibility on the teacher. Ideally, classroom observation, no matter its purpose, should be a positive and helpful experience for teachers, and should support both teacher and observer in uncovering, encouraging, and adopting practices and conditions that lead to learning. 

Who owns the syllabus?

Image by Darby Browning from Pixabay

A syllabus is a document that sets out a plan for how a teacher will turn the curriculum into a course. It’s one thing that tends to set university-based English language programs apart from private language schools. The latter tend to have short sessions or rolling intake systems that can mean students arriving in and leaving the class on a regular basis, as often as once a week. Schools with this type of system tend to follow a school-wide plan for what will be taught and assessed, in many cases based on the units of a textbook, and there is no place there for a teacher-made syllabus. 

Many university-based programs have inherited the syllabus tradition, which is part of a broader tradition of faculty ownership of teaching. That is, the teacher is assigned a semester-length course and is responsible for significant elements of its design and delivery. The typical syllabus is headed by the teacher’s name and contact information, and details such as location and schedule of the class and the teacher’s office hours. Information about the course tends to come later. The foregrounding of the teacher on the syllabus symbolizes the centrality of and ownership by the teacher. 

This is changing. Institutions have become more prescriptive about the layout and content of syllabi, and many provide a template for faculty to fill in. Heading the new style of syllabus is the institution’s name and logo, representing a brand consciousness that asserts the institution over the individual teacher. Additionally, the requirement to adhere to accreditation standards and institutional attempts to standardize course information and policies – such as academic honesty, attendance, and grading – mean that more syllabus information than ever is supplied by the institution and the document is less and less owned by the individual teacher. 

This makes the syllabus in some ways a contested area of school life, one in which the freedom of the teacher may be pitted against the requirements of the institution. Although it may not lead to openly expressed disagreement, there may be some concerns among faculty over this corporatization of the syllabus. On the other hand, having a template that looks professional and requires less ‘from scratch’ work is appealing to many faculty. 

I think it’s important to retain faculty-specific elements of the syllabus in university-governed programs. Yes, course goals and outcomes, and even some assessments, should be standard across course sections to ensure fairness to students. But one goal can be reached by many routes, and teachers – master’s qualified, experienced – should retain a degree of professional decision-making and judgment about which route speaks best to their own strengths and to the needs of the students in front of them. As in most things, it’s a question of balance.

Talking textbooks

If you’ve been teaching English as a second or foreign language for a few years, you’ve probably taught using a wide variety of textbooks. Over the years, textbooks have evolved from layouts you could easily create (now anyway) in Microsoft Word, to sophisticated, full-color extravaganzas that seem designed to cater to limited modern attention spans. Textbooks also mirror evolving approaches to language teaching, from the decontextualized sentences of grammar-translation, through the drill-and-kill repetitions and substitutions of audiolingualism, information gaps and situational dialogues of communicative language teaching, to…whatever it is we have now, which is not entirely clear. 

Teachers use textbooks in various ways, sometimes as a springboard for whatever will happen in class, sometimes as a ‘pick and mix’ assortment of activities and exercises, and sometimes – perhaps too often – as the lesson plan itself. The latter seems to be increasingly true of those sophisticated, theme-based texts which can lead to what I think I’ll call ‘textbook lock-in’ – the tendency of the textbook to bind you to its content. The way this works is that each unit is based on a topic, and all vocabulary, grammar, speaking, listening, and reading exercises are based on that topic. It’s hard to do what’s on page 23 unless you’ve already done page 22. And 21. 

While this kind of textbook offers rich content, the language practice and the methodology tend to get a little lost in the mix. If learning involves analysis of the subject at hand, then it’s a good idea to isolate a piece of it (let’s say the present perfect tense), examine it closely, practice it in a structured and then a freer way, and then integrate that new piece of the subject into one’s total knowledge. This process of analysis and synthesis can get a bit lost when you are confronted with the whole language, everything all at once, and you (the teacher) are expected to also teach about volcanoes (been there, done that). 

This content-based, ‘locked-in’ approach in textbooks is very likely useful for students preparing for academic study, but it makes you wonder what the teacher is supposed to be expert in. Many ESL teachers are not expert in the specialized content of the textbook, so the textbook becomes the content authority in the classroom. And with all the exercises tied to the content, there may not be much for the teacher to do but manage the delivery of the textbook content to the students – or not stick to the textbook. 

Which creates its own problems. If teachers stay close to the textbook, they may be giving up some of their teacherly authority to determine content and method. The lesson is derived not from the teacher but from the publisher. The teacher is reduced to a delivery system, just as in the days of the old Berlitz schools (when teachers didn’t have to be qualified to teach in a language school). But if teachers don’t use the textbook, students may complain about having paid for it but not having used it, or may feel overwhelmed with all the content in the book plus what the teacher is supplementing with. What a bind this is. 

Do you like your textbooks? How do they position you in relation to your students? What is your role with regard to the book you are using? Does it support you in freeing up your creativity, or lock you in to pre-defined content? There’s a lot more to say about textbooks, but I think these questions are worth discussing. 

The image for this post is from Lessons in Vocabulary by Robert Lado and Charles Fries, The University of Michigan Press, 1956

Online teaching and creativity

In 1939, the American writer Ernest Vincent Wright published a novel named Gadsby. Nothing too special about that you might think, except that this 50,000-word work of fiction did not contain the letter ‘e.’ Can you imagine even writing more than a word or two without the letter ‘e’? Me either.

Gadsby is an example of a lipogram, a piece of writing with a particular letter of the alphabet deliberately excluded. It is part of a tradition of constrained writing, in which the writer deliberately self-imposes some limitation. There is a long history of constrained writing in poetry – think of the sonnet, limerick, or haiku – but writers have experimented with various kinds of constraints, such as six-word memoirs and stories with exactly 100 words. The French author Georges Perec wrote the novel La Disparition without using the letter ‘e’, and subsequently penned Les Revenentes, which contained no other vowel except ‘e’.

I’ve been thinking recently about how creativity arises within constraints, and this is true in education too. As a teacher I have been tempted to think, “If only I had…” or “If only I could get…” But teachers have always had to work with what they have and what the circumstances impose on them. Most teachers can’t choose their students, their class size, their classroom, the curriculum, their  schedule, and on and on. Sometimes they have to work with multiple skill levels in a class, or have limited access to equipment.  Many teachers feel resistance toward some of the administrative limitations placed on their work or balk at attempts to ‘standardize’ their teaching (I’ve been there), and most manage to work within those limitations. But teachers are also able to take what they have and make something magical happen: a unique, creative learning experience that couldn’t have been anticipated at the outset.

As university-based English language programs enter the fall semester online (and with reduced numbers), and many other programs continue their online teaching, it may seem that the online environment is limiting. Indeed, the lack of face to face contact and informal encounters with students is another limitation imposed on teaching. But it is encouraging to keep in mind that even within this set of constraints, creativity can blossom, new techniques and procedures will arise, and online language teachers will continue to create magic on their own terms.

Let’s embrace the constraints and let the magic happen. Just as we’ve always done.