Author: mabadmin

The bus picked us up at 5:00 for the drive to Changchun Airport, and six of us took off for Shanghai almost immediately (while the others went to Beijing, either for a few days’ stay or to transfer before flying home).  Taking our leave was pretty emotional, especially when it came to saying goodbye to Leo.

Once we got to Shanghai we encountered, our flight — and, apparently, all flights that day bound for Hong Kong — was delayed…for about nine hours!

We eventually arrived in Hong Kong, getting through customs and immigration*, and picking up our baggage at 2:30 am.  Of course, by this time I was a “no show” at my hostel and there were no rooms left at the airport hotel. So we returned to the ticketing section of the airport and literally slept on the floor.

It wasn’t so bad, actually, provided you had something to keep the marble paving from sucking away your body heat.  We survived until morning, when I managed to find my hostel, where they had not re-sold my room so I was able to check in immediately.

A “room” indeed!  About 5.5 feet wide and 9 feet long, a bed with two cubbyholes underneath, a night stand, and an adjoining “wet room” — toilet and sink, with a hand-held shower sprayer on the wall and a drain in the floor.

*   Regarding Customs and Immigration:  yes, even though Hong Kong is now part of China, under the One Nation, Two Systems policy, it is still treated much as it was under British rule, like a foreign country having its own currency and laws and with movement to and from the “mainland” basically as it was before.

 

As we prepared to leave Jilin, everyone was asking each other, “What are you doing next?”  The simple answer for me was, “flying on to Australia for a family reunion”.

But professionally, where do I go from here?

I would love to work, at least for a while, in my local school districts, but because my undergraduate education was in business I don’t have a teaching credential, which limits my employability. There is the possibility of working in local adult education programs, which would build on the Jilin experience of teaching older learners but with the important difference of a much lower level of English proficiency.  I do hope, as well, to be able to serve as a substitute teacher in a local private secondary school, ideally in English as a Second Language or in French or Spanish.

But one of the reasons I was interested in the field of TESOL was the opportunity for traveling and working abroad.  As long as I’m healthy enough I would prefer to satisfy my life-long wanderlust. Sharing my language and culture with others in a long-term situation is a great way to do it.  Teaching at home can be done when I’m older.

The Maryknoll China Teachers Program offers the possibility of returning to teach during the academic year at one of eight or more universities around China. Additionally, Maryknoll is affiliated with a girls’ secondary boarding school in Tanzania which uses English as the medium of instruction. (Two of last year’s summer teachers are currently working there.)  And, most interesting, Maryknoll has an operation in Bolivia that trains social workers in Spanish and indigenous languages but which plans to offer English classes.  I have not yet been able to learn the details of Who, How Many, or When associated with this plan.  I suspect that at the moment it is only an idea, but am excited at the prospect of perhaps joining the team that builds such a program from the ground up.

This last possibility highlights, alas, what I consider a fatal weakness in my program of study for the master’s in TESOL:  nowhere in our courses was there explicit instruction in
a) curriculum development;
b) how to teach someone who has no prior knowledge of English (and/or no literacy in any language);
c) how teaching adults differs from teaching children;
d) how the needs of students of ESL (English as a Second Language) differ from students of EFL (English as a Foreign Language).

I realize that, in our state, the last item is of minor importance. However, failure to address the first two is a monumental shortfall.  Within our local schools, where foreign-born students are foundering and teachers are at a loss, both of those skills are of crucial importance.  The ESL professional is the one to whom the rest of the school should be able to turn for both of these – yet in the MS Ed TESOL program they were touched on only peripherally and only by the students themselves, talking of their own experiences.  I do hope steps will be taken in the near future to reduce the program’s emphasis on theories and research and turn the focus to specific techniques that can be used to build, direct, conduct, and evaluate successful programs that lead our English Language Learners to mastery of English and to success in their adoptive country.

So, most immediately, Ms. B’s professional options are:
– short-term (and probably part-time) teaching in the US
– development of an English program in Bolivia
– full-time teaching with Maryknoll China Teachers Program
– another position in Tanzania, Hong Kong, or Korea…or perhaps somewhere else.

Whatever the future brings, I am confident that the background provided by the MS TESOL program will stand me in good stead as a basis for creating and sustaining beneficial and challenging instruction to my future students, whoever and wherever they may be.

Besides, it’s been great fun.

I am still disappointed that we were not able to implement my research project. While not greatly surprised at the university bigwigs’ reluctance to “rock the boat” in any way, I was annoyed.

The plan was to ask students at the start and end of the program about their self-image as English speakers, their use of English outside the classroom, and their beliefs as to how spoken English is best learned, with a view to seeing whether and to what degree these attitudes changed over the course of the summer program. From a practical point of view, I wanted to know whether the program has a real effect; from a business point of view, if the effect is significantly positive, the good publicity to be garnered would be beneficial for both Maryknoll and for Jilin Medical University.

That said, there is nothing to prevent my conducting the same kind of project in the future as part of any classes that I should teach in China or elsewhere. The original plan for research had, in fact, included before-and-after interviews to assess the speaking ability of a sample of individual students. This is something that my own professor at University of Texas had made part of her French Conversation classes. I see no reason why I might not be able to do the same for some, if not all, of my future students.

So, someday you may read something about students in China and see my name on the byline. I hope so.

 

 

Looking over my notes from teaching I am surprised, and a bit perplexed and dismayed, at what I find.

Before leaving home, and based on last year’s experience, I had plotted out a general outline of what I intended to do for each day of class: group presentation followed by discussion, skits, pronunciation drills, proverbs, etc., with the same three-day program to be repeated for each group. While naturally I expected that I would be constantly making adjustments to this schedule based on the abilities of each group, I didn’t realize how far I would deviate from it.

I think there are several reasons for this.

First, since it wasn’t possible to know exactly what to expect before meeting each class, it was easy to under- or over-estimate English proficiency; consequently, often the original plan had to be modified to suit a group’s abilities.

Second, not being a creature of routine I dislike doing the same thing repeatedly. Change keeps me focused and enthusiastic, which, especially for a “summer camp” type of program like this one, is, I think, an important element in student success.

Third, and perhaps most significant for me at this stage of my career (if such I may call it), I wanted to try out as many activities and exercises as possible to see how well they worked and how they needed to be adjusted to meet the needs of the students. Some classes I thought would be both beneficial and engaging were not. Sometimes one group (e.g. Class 5) simply had neither the skill nor the courage to fully participate in and benefit from a project that another group (Class 8) could attack with gusto.

And because this year Fr. B added the second afternoon class in lieu of the optional session that I had suggested (which would have involved fewer students and more teachers in advanced activities) I still wanted to “test drive” as many of those optional session activities as I could feasibly implement on my own.

I hope that the result of my perhaps “uncoordinated” program of teaching was engaging, challenging, and edifying for the students. For myself the result is an expanded range of experience in tailoring curriculum to the needs of the student body and a better idea of what materials and activities work best under what circumstances.

I do wish that the summer program better accommodated the possibility of co-teaching. Several teachers did occasionally combine groups, but I don’t know what they did together because it was not possible to sit in on their classes. I would like to have watched Ms. R in particular (since she had taught at a southern China university for two semesters) and young Ms. E (who, in spite of being an undergrad in a field other than education appears to have presented an impressive program, including a Texas hoedown!).

 

Now the Jilin Medical University English Summer Camp (aka Maryknoll China Teachers Program, summer session) is finished, and it’s time to congratulate students for their hard work.

First thing in the morning (that is, an hour earlier than usual) all 180 students, we American teachers, some university VIPs (most notably, the Communist Party representative) and the faculty who formed the student body for Fr. B’s own English classes all gathered together in the big lecture hall.

Each teacher stood on the podium and presented certificates of completion to the students in his first group – in my case, Class 5. It was interesting to see how confident the young folks seemed as they came up, quite a change in body language from three weeks ago.

After all of them (including Fr. B’s students) had been honored, the Party rep gave each teacher a gift: a T-shirt with the name of the program on it, and a very large red traditional braided decoration that symbolizes good fortune. Afterwards we all went outside for a group photo, at which point I realized that I was wearing the same dress I wore for last year’s group photo, so I made sure to sit in a different location.

Immediately following, we all converged on a huge local restaurant, where we had the principal ball room, decorated with artificial flowers and including not only a stage but a runway (as for a fashion show). Each class had its own round table with lazy susan, so I got to sit with Class 5 and catch up with them.

Again, it was fun to see how they’d grown in confidence and facility in speaking, although I noticed that many still turned to the Class Leader to act as spokesman, since she was their best speaker.

A major part of Leo’s responsibilities as Student Leader was to organize a talent show, for which each class had to mount performance of some kind (Leo having to approve and time each act, decide on the order of presentation, and supervise rehearsals). Class Leader from Class 8 was one of the student emcees, assisted by Ms. E and Mr. P, our best-looking teachers.
Each of us was to be included in our first class’ performance. The acts ranged from a choral poetry reading (in English and Mandarin), to group songs, to group dances (traditional Chinese and hip-hop). Ms. K and I were, happily, completely overlooked in the development of the show, so were able to sit back and watch and enjoy. Leo surprised us by singing a beautiful duet with one of the girls. All this and he has a great voice, too!

But the highlights of the show were Ms. E’s Tai Chi Dance (performed with five students in white brocade “pajama” outfits and huge red fans) and Mr. P’s rendition – in Mandarin – of a currently popular song that apparently celebrates Chinese machismo. He stalked up and down the length of the runway barking out the lyrics with the audience delightedly filling in the chorus.

Then came the feast, ten or twelve dishes of meats and/or vegetables of all kinds, including braised chicken feet. The last item, a bowl of rice, was added almost as an afterthought. As things started to wind down, Class 8 came over as a body to my table to offer me a toast, American-style. I reciprocated in kind, but drained my glass Chinese-style, which seemed to please everyone.

Then came the goodbyes. I cannot say how many students asked me for autographs. Some handed over their certificates, others a scrap of note paper or post-it note. Ms. E and the young men looked and felt like celebrities, with people standing in line to approach them. And poor Leo! When we went over to congratulate him on all his hard work the poor fellow broke down in tears! I’m going to miss him very much.

Back at the hotel, we packed our bags, gathered for a last round of drinks in the lobby, and went to bed early, because the next morning we loaded onto a bus at 4:45 am to depart Jilin.

 

Somehow the summer program has just flown by — even though I’ve been teaching one hour more per day than last year while using a greater variety of lessons and materials.  Day 13 was the last day.

During the morning session we did the usual new vocabulary words and I asked each student to jot down a question he might ask an American. Then we had some discussion about the American system of tertiary education, because today’s presentation addressed the situation of the 80 percent of Chinese students who study abroad and don’t return home, and the remainder who often return with their tails between their legs because their parents paid our high prices to educate a child who wasn’t intellectually up to the task.

Discussion of the cost of American education is always a bit overwhelming for Jilin students.  They pay 5,800 yuan — less than $900 — per year to attend university. This includes tuition, room and board, and fees. They are flabbergasted when I explain that my daughter’s university estimates the “total cost of attendance” at upwards of $60,000 per annum…for a third-string school.  At least this presentation helped them understand the issues raised in the China Daily article.

Unfortunately, while I remembered to charge my camera battery the night before, I did not remember to put the battery back into the camera, and so have no pictures of the afternoon session, which I really consider the pièce de résistance* of Class 8’s experience, something they couldn’t possibly learn from a Chinese teacher:  how to conduct oneself in formal dining situations.

Lest you think this was much ado about nothing let me share a bit about Chinese dinner manners, based on my several experiences dining out with the Maryknoll Teachers, during which Ms. W, our Chinese guide, explains the correct way to behave.  First, guests are seated at large circular tables (with a motorized lazy susan in the center).  The most important attendee faces the door.  Toasts are offered by any and all and nearly always require complete draining of the glass.  If the table is too large to “clink” glasses, you tap your glass on the lazy susan several times to symbolize sharing the toast with all. When the food passes by, you take what you want with the same chopsticks you will using for eating — there are no serving utensils.  You can talk easily with your neighbors on either side but it’s nearly impossible to converse with those on the opposite side. This is of little import, however, because the focus is on eating.  Dinner is over when everyone has had as much to eat as he can hold and more drink than is good for him.

So you see, it’s a bit different from Thanksgiving dinner in New England with your Great Aunt Millie.

I did a quick recap of the manners-based skills we’d practiced:  handshakes, introductions, keeping a conversation going.  I reminded Class 8 that some day they may become leaders in their hospitals or universities and go to another country to attend a conference or convention.  Then I drew a circle on the chalkboard as the start of a diagram of a Western-style table setting.  I asked for a volunteer to draw the rest.  The first volunteer managed a fork. The second added a knife and spoon and napkin, and a drinking glass on the wrong side of the plate, which we corrected.

Then I explained that we were going to act out a formal dinner party at a private home.  Using the cards, I assigned students to be Mr. and Mrs. Smith (host and hostess), “Dr. Wong” (the guest of honor) and spouse, and other guests. We had one table of six and another of eight people, seated according to Emily Post**.  Each Mr. Smith and Dr. Wong had a cue card with which to offer a toast, and every participant had at least one topic of conversation to introduce.  They fell right to work, giving their toasts and trying to include everyone in the conversation, which of course was a bit more challenging for the larger group.  All the same they kept up the talk for about fifteen minutes.  I think they were particularly motivated when I pointed out that what we were doing is exactly how I would manage a dinner for a VIP in my home.

After a break we returned to our regular classroom set up, a U-shaped arrangement of desks which I had modified so that only two people sat opposite the open end.  Now I announced that Dr. Wong is going to be the guest of honor at a formal banquet, and we discussed how the table setting might look for that (multiple forks and spoons, water and wine glasses, butter plate, etc.).  I explained that a banquet is likely to be a “plated” meal (whereas a party at home may or may not). Then I announced, “Going to a banquet will be harder than what you’ve done before, because each of you must talk with other people, although they are only seated next to you, on either side. And you must do it while eating Western style, because no one in America will have chopsticks to give you.”

They gathered around while I opened my napkin and demonstrated using knife, fork, and spoon — Continental style and American style — with the deck of cards to represent meat and some bits of chalk for vegetables.  Then each student received a set of utensils of his own and a small Twinkie-like cake. (Chinese stores have tons of great choices like this in snacks — which, alas, Jilin students tend to call “snakes”. )  I demonstrated cutting and eating the cake while conversing, and then they all got to work — using the topics of conversation they had written down for me that morning.   I acted as waiter, listening in, correcting, mimicking serving coffee, etc.. Dr. Black, the hostess of the banquet, sat with Dr. Wong at the head of the table and had to introduce Dr. Wong and offer a toast, while Dr. Wong had to return a toast and pretend to make a 20-minute speech.

I was pleased and gratified that everyone took the entire exercise seriously, especially the small-talk aspect of it, which from a linguistic point of view was most important.  But I think they saw the practical end of it and appreciated the sharing of an important part of foreign culture that I don’t think any of them had ever seriously contemplated before this day.

 *   Had we had more time, I would have given this group a class or two on important non-English words and phrases everyone should know.

* *  Or, since we were using cards, according to Hoyle?  Ha ha ha.

Waiting for the bus this morning I glanced out the door of the hotel to see a large group of hotel employees playing a game we used to call Chinese Jump Rope!

A large yellow elastic band is placed around the legs of two or three players. Other people do a kind of dance in and out of the band, throwing their leg over it and bringing it back. When I walked over to get a picture they asked me to join in.  Throwing my mind back to when I was ten I executed a few moves that not only amused and charmed them but intrigued them enough to ask me to repeat them so they could pick it up.  I did my best.

Mr. J and Ace (who is Chinese) came over to investigate and Ace explained that it’s a team-building exercise for the employees. The ladies pestered Mr. J to join in. He was willing, but clearly did not actually figure it all out.

Sign in the park:

During the lunch break Ms. L-B, the teacher of Mandarin, escorted Ms. K and me to the local “mall”. This is a three-storey building full of cubbyholes that the Chinese term “shops”. Most are about ten feet wide and eight feet deep. If they’re selling household goods the walls and center of the shop are piled to the ceiling with cookware, rice steamers, and towels. Shoe stalls are similarly packed with goods. The quilt-makers have bolts of cloth, some of it hung like drapes, and a big quilting frame on the counter, on which they hand-stitch your order. And if they sell clothing, the walls of the booth display a couple of dozen shirts or dresses; there may or may not be a clothes rack or two in the center.

I wanted to buy something for my afternoon class tomorrow, and by the time we were done I was awfully glad that Ms. L-B had accompanied me. Not only because it would have been very difficult to express to the shopkeeper what I wanted, but because she was able to get the price down by about twenty percent as well! Meantime, Ms. K wanted to buy some clothes for her sister; since the latter is about my size I got to model several nice dresses while Ms. L-B negotiated the price. A flying visit, but both a profitable and entertaining one!

Today’s reading dealt with the issue of Chinese customers being cheated by shopkeepers and restauranteurs, particularly in towns that are vacation destinations, and how the bad publicity resulting from acts such as charging the equivalent of US $5 per shrimp after assuring the customer that the price is per plate can have an adverse effect on tourism, especially if it drives Chinese travelers to vacation at non-Chinese destinations such as Cambodia or Thailand.

First lesson learned: six students wanted to know what “shrimp” is.

Luckily, I can draw. Strangely, it never occurs to us to look for the most basic words when defining the new vocabulary. Yet those are often the key to the students’ understanding, not all the hifalutin’ words we spend time defining.

Class 8 all being pre-med students and not business majors, I decided to ignore the economic aspects of the article and instead build on the colorful stories that illustrated the author’s points. We divided into three teams to perform skits showing how a customer may be cheated. These went quite well – imaginative situations, quick-flowing dialogue, good vocabulary use. I think that out of 14 students, only one could be faulted for not speaking enough.

The Blue Team’s dress shop charged a lady for trying on a dress, even though she didn’t buy it, and a crooked policeman got money from her and from the shopkeeper. The Red Team’s restaurant charged diners per grain of rice eaten…and got away with it because the policeman was in on the scam. The Green Team’s restaurant tried something similar but were foiled when it turned out that their own crooked cop had been replaced by an honest one who took them to jail.

With ten minutes to kill I did a quick review of how to tell time in English. No one in the group realized that Americans generally don’t use the 24-hour clock. However, every one of them knew expressions like “quarter after two” or “half past three” or “ten to twelve”…which, I remember, puzzled last year’s students completely. I will need to ask Ivan what he’s been teaching them: it seems he’s covered a lot!

For the afternoon session I tried something I have not done with a Jilin class before: a little bit of prosody. First I demonstrated “wordless words” like “Ah ha!” or “Uh-oh” or “Mm-hmm” or “Yep” or “Nuh-uh!” This is a lot of fun to present, though it would have been easier with a Native English Speaker partner. Class 8 had never encountered most of these sounds before but were very quick to distinguish one from another and guess what they mean.

Then I wrote on the board this sentence: Are you using my book? and demonstrated how, by changing which word is stressed, I changed the meaning of the sentence. (E.g., Are YOU using my book? Are you using MY book? etc..) Everyone really caught on quickly and could explain the differences. Then we divided into four groups and each group got a sentence on which to change the stress and explain the change in meaning. I went around the room listening as they played with their sentence, and when it was clear they understood it I assigned them to one of the other sentences until each group had done all four*. Again, this was something they latched onto much more quickly than I expected and really seemed to enjoy.

For the last session we played Teach Me How. Each student had to explain in detail how to do something, using a (non-speaking) if desired. This generated a lot of laughs, as a girl had to teach us how to shave a beard (using the prettiest girl in the class as her demonstrator) and another girl’s two assistants insisted on using her as the demonstrator as she tried to explain the proper way to put on socks. There were, of course and alas, too many instances of “Like this” and “with your fingers” but for the most part Class 8 was up to the challenge, in attitude if not exactly in speaking ability. I could not have done this exercise with Class 5 two weeks ago; I wonder if Class 5 could handle it today.

Only one more day of teaching. This year’s program has been at once more challenging and more satisfying than last year’s. I don’t know if it’s because of the students, or because of all the things I’ve learned in the last twelve months, but I do know that I will be very sorry to leave.

* The four prosody sentences:

Did you eat lunch?                             Don’t give me your jacket.

She’s my favorite teacher.                 I don’t like hamburgers.

Monday’s news article discussed lost opportunities to strike it rich in real estate. Unfortunately, this is another topic in which Jilin Medical students have no experience and hardly any interest. Once we had disposed of the new vocabulary and done a quick read-aloud, I congratulated Class 8 on their English ability and suggested that someday, being doctors and perhaps being leaders of hospitals or even faculty of a medical university, they may decide to attend a convention or conference in the United States. What kinds of things might they need to know in order to do this without embarrassment?

I divided the class into three groups, who had to write on the board as many things as they could think of that constitute:

a) good manners in China
b) good manners in America
c) bad manners in America

Did you know that elders are invited to eat first at a Chinese feast? That, when drinking a toast, the bottles of the young people must not be raised as high as those of the older people? After expressing my gratification at learning these and other new things about China, I moved the discussion to the U. S..

Many of the students knew that handshakes are important in our country, and that questions relating to age and salary are rude. Most of their impressions as to what is good or bad manners were based on what the good guys or bad guys did in American movies (which is actually not a bad way to begin).

After expanding their ideas into a little list of do’s and don’ts, we did some quick demonstrations of how and when to shake hands, how to make introductions, how to offer a seat or open a door, how to leave the room.

After lunch I distributed cards to assign partners, and each pair of students had to draw a slip of paper on which was written a situation for them to act out. Examples: Introduce yourself to your new work partner. Meet a colleague on the street and remind him of a meeting set for tomorrow at 3 pm. This turned out to be quite amusing, especially when two of the young men had to play a mother and daughter pair.

Finally, we held a cocktail party. (Oddly enough, when I asked what a cocktail is, the Class Leader very clearly described a Pousse Café, a very tricky drink of several liqueurs served in one glass. How did she ever hear about that?) Again pretending to be attending a medical conference in the U.S., students were paired up, one person to be an American, the other the Chinese visitor. The American drew a slip of paper on which was a question to pose to the visitor.

You had to talk with your partner for three to four minutes: if the conversation lagged, one of you had to get it going again. When I called “Time!” each couple passed their question two pairs down the line, then changed partners so that they had a new topic and a new interlocutor.

We probably repeated this for the better part of forty minutes! In some cases I re-arranged the speakers into trios or foursomes. In some cases they found that neither person could address the suggested topic and so discussed something else. In a few cases I had planted “dangerous” questions, such as, “What do you think of our president?” or “Do you like the U.S. better than China?” and “Aren’t all Chinese children spoiled?” which they had to recognize and deflect.

Honestly, I was tickled pink at how well it went. Only in the first round did I have to prompt people to speak only in English, only in the first two rounds did I have to remind them to keep talking no matter what. I did have to pull one young man aside and tell him that because he spoke so well I wanted him to concentrate on making his partners speak more (absolutely true!). But on the whole I was amazed at the enthusiasm with which they went at it, without exception.

Have you ever had one of those days when you feel you’re on the right track?

On the way home, I just wanted to crash into bed, but my roommate, Ms. K, was nervous about presenting the lesson tomorrow so at her insistence we stopped at a little noodle house she had visited before and had a quick supper before returning to the hotel to double-check her presentation.

Hooray for picture menus!

Remember my earlier story about the student who told me that China is shaped like a chicken and that Jilin is located about where its eye would be?  All right, then.

Jilin has a population of more than 2.5 million, but in our part of town (especially between the hotel and the university) there’s quite a bit of small-town flavor, so I set out today to see just how big Jilin really is.  I didn’t see it all by any means, but I did see as much as you can on 12 yuan:  that is, I bought a 1 yuan bus ticket, rode until I found something interesting, hopped off, and then found another bus when I’d explored that neighborhood to my satisfaction.  The scenery ran the gamut from suburban streets to fancy downtown shopping centers to the central train station to “shanty town”-like shopping districts for used furniture and plumbing supplies.  And food for sale everywhere.

Please visit the page What’s it Like? (People of China) to see some new photos.