Asking the question "Why?"

Page No.: 
5
Writer(s): 
Miles Craven

Most teachers have favorite, tried-and-tested activities we like to use
with our classes: a fun way to introduce a certain structure, or an exciting
activity to revise a particular tense. Such favorites are part of our teaching
wardrobe just as much as the clothes we wear. They help us feel secure by
giving us a safety net to fall back on whenever needed. As our bank of favorite
activities grows, so does our self-confidence in the classroom. Yet, there
are times when such lessons, ones that are proven time and time again, suddenly
and inexplicably fail. We are left drained of all energy, scratching our
heads in confusion, feeling cheated, and haunted by the suspicion that the
students have somehow, deliberately sabotaged the lesson. For their part,
the students may feel guilty, embarrassed that they couldn't follow the
instructions, and inadequate, causing them to retreat into a passive learning
style. Perhaps they don't want to, but at least it's safe.

It is too easy to dismiss the failure of an activity or lesson as some
failure on the part of the students. Storming into the staff room saying
"I hate that class!" is not the answer. To save the soul-searching
and struggle, some teachers become indifferent, and emotionally detached.
"I just teach; it's up to my students if they learn or not. I can't
make them learn." But if we remain indifferent, we soon find ourselves
dropping into a lonely abyss, unable to relate to our students and dissatisfied
in our job.

For me, such failures in the classroom (and I've certainly had my share)
are what makes it such an interesting and rewarding place. The classroom
fascinates me: Why did this activity work with this class but not that one?
Why does one exercise work, but not another? I need to know. Asking the
question "Why?" raises so many exciting possibilities. Furthermore,
it's not all about examining failure. Asking "Why did this work so
well?" is as valid as asking "Why did it fail?"

Teachers who ask the question "Why?" quickly develop an almost
sixth-sense, tuning in to the mood swings of their students, their rhythms
of learning and patterns of behavior. Being a "good teacher" in
the eyes of ones colleagues and students often involves little more than
a sympathetic awareness of how students learn, who they are, and perhaps
most importantly, of the differences between them.

I believe the key lies in understanding the differences. Finding the
differences inherent in different learning situations, and adapting one's
teaching style and approach to match, will result in a rewarding classroom
experience for both teachers and students.

It is no revelation to say that people in different parts of the world
learn in different ways. The world of English language teaching stretches
across oceans and seas (Pacific, Mediterranean, Atlantic). We have to gain
an understanding of the differences if we are to make sense of it all: educational
systems, curricula, approaches; student educational backgrounds, expectations,
needs, wants; teacher backgrounds, expectations, needs, wants The list goes
on and on, so the differences become almost overwhelming.

Clearly, a class of South American students will behave and learn very
differently from a class of Asian learners. Walk into classroom of Brazilian
students with a brick in one hand and party hat in the other, and you may
have the basis for a good solid 50-minute class of debate, role play, story-telling
and who knows what else. Do the same in Japan, and you are more likely to
sink under waves of perplexed frowns and silence. Within regional groups,
differences also show themselves. A class of Taiwanese students will differ
in what they learn, at what pace and how they learn it, from Japanese students,
or Korean students for example. Each nationality presents us with different
challenges and opportunities.

Of course, we can go a step further. We can break such differences down
from regional, to national, and finally to the individual level. Different
students bring different skills, experiences, knowledge and expectations
to the classroom. Each student represents a unique challenge.

So, is it possible to develop a coherent technique in the face of such
difference? Or are we left constantly mixing and matching: a bit of behaviorism
here, a little NLP there, a bit of translation here, a little grammar there,
forever adapting our approach?

Well, using the technique of mind mapping was one way that helped me,
when I found myself in front of hundreds of Japanese university students
for the first time. I hope to share my years of experience developing mind-mapping
techniques in Japan, with you here at the conference. It's an approach not
found in many course books, but it's easy to pick up and very effective
in the classroom. After asking the question "Why?", mind mapping
can help move us on to "How?"