Am I confused or what?

Well, I think I might have a proverbial chip on my shoulder.  Most of the readings that I've been doing for the TESOL MALL grad classes -- regardless of whether or not I've blogged about them :P -- make me angry.  I seem to be reading with a preconception that I'm not going to like it (the article) or it's going to have stupid conclusions or I'm going to disagree, in whole in in part, with whatever the author is stating. 

This week's selection -- Chapter 5 'Five Different Qualitative Studies' in addition to 'Appendix B' -- is no different.  For instance, I'm usually one of the most un-PC persons in whatever situation I might find myself, but the use of the term 'mental retardation' in Angrosino's paper was. . .kinda cruel.  And for those of you who think I don't know what it means--yes, I looked it up, just to make sure I wasn't going to post something that makes me look like more of a fool than usual.  The term 'mental retardation' can be used within a professional medical context (i.e., health insurance or formal scientific research) but that's now--in 2012.  In 1994?--the term was considered offensive and derogatory.  Plus, the context in which Angrosino used is--as a narrative study within a social science milieu--isn't formal scientific research.  At least, not to me.  Anyway, why didn't he just call a spade a spade and title his publication 'On the Bus with Vonnie Lee--Talkin' with a Retard'?

And the phenomenological study (say that 5 times fast. . .)--I understand the ways and hows of the research, but what I don't understand is: when the authors asked the AIDS patients to draw pictures of their disease and only 8 patients out of a total of 58 in the study did so,  why did the authors include/integrate this 'data' in their final analysis?  Unless it was to prove a negative, as in, "the clear majority (93%) of AIDS patients in our study did not use a visual representation of their disease to cope.".  Creswell doesn't tell us how they used it, so I'm left with the impression that they used it to verify their findings, which just makes no sense to me. . .

That said, I think I'll probably try to use a phenomenological approach to my study question.  Or maybe grounded theory.  I'm not completely sure, but I don't think I want to have my question as firmly in the scientific realm as grounded theory would have to be.  For those who have just been calling on me to 'PICK A TOPIC AND STICK WITH IT, JANE!'--just letting you know, I think I've done it.  So, my topic / question is concerning the formation of teacher identity within the context of American EFL teachers in South Korean universities (AKA "Teacher!" "Call me Jane."  "OK, teacher.")

TESOL topics

Well, I have to state, I'm not necessarily all that interested in the usual TESOL topics. Quite frankly, I find many of them boring and thus, unsustainable for an actual thesis. That's not to say they're boring to everyone. . . :-)

Reading through some of the Google Scholar abstracts and also through bibliographies from some books / papers, I find my interest tending towards the social sciences end of TESOL; topics having more to do with student and/or teacher behavior and experiences rather than classroom activities that work or don't work, using various technologies in the classroom, etc.

I've had an interest in toddler TESOL for a couple years now--wondering about the efficacy of actually teaching a second language at the pre-kindergarten level. This seems to be a trend in ROK--at least for the past couple years--with more and more hagwons opening that specialize in English for toddlers (to get a jump on those kindergarten kids. . .), when lots of the literature doesn't seem to support the idea of structured language learning at such an early age. I've had friends who have bi-lingual children, because of two parents who have different native languages, and their children have spoken in a combination or pidgeon language that uses grammar elements from both as well as vocabulary from both. It's all done interchangeably though when the kids are toddlers. Their language learning at that level (before about age 4-5) allows for no distinction between individual languages--it's all just mixed up.

The other main topic in which I'm interested is needs analyses (or the lack thereof) within the framework of EFL classrooms in South Korea. As far as I can tell from what is, admittedly, anecdotal evidence, needs analyses are more of a concept or a neat-o idea than an actual requirement for an EFL class. Not that South Korea is alot different than other countries, but the norm here--at all educational levels--seems to be 'less is more' when it comes to background information about students.

Here's my CIP:

1. What happened?

Three years ago (sometime from February 2009 to March 2009), I was living in Seoul and working at a YBM ECC (a high-end hagwon franchise). One of the primary school and classroom rules was written prominently in the lobby and along hallways--No Korean, Only English! All teachers were monitored and expected to enforce this rules in their classrooms.

I had been teaching there for about 6 months and the new school year was about to start when I was informed by the academic coordinator that I would be getting a class of first-year kindergarten students. . . 5 year olds. I not only didn't speak any Korean but also had never taught students that young before (and quite frankly, hadn't wanted to. . .) and thought that I would be too old, too set-in-my-ways, too strict, too rigid, too everything that a kindergarten teacher should NOT be. At first I politely requested that the new class be given to a younger teacher, and then more strongly made my request, but nothing worked. It was my class.

There were only 7 students in the class and many knew some, or even alot of English, so the difficulty wasn't as bad as I'd imagined. One tiny, gorgeous little girl had a large English vocabulary and was not shy about using it. She also had a large Korean vocabulary and again, was not shy about speaking. In a short time, she became the obvious class leader, a class helper and, I'll admit, was my favorite student from day 1.

About 3 weeks into the school year, I gave the students a task to complete. My favorite (I'll call her) Lola was, as usual, finished first and started singing a Korean song in a low voice. As I walked around, monitoring the students, I stopped at her seat and told her, in a quiet voice--No Korean, only English. She nodded and stopped singing. A couple minutes later, she started again, and again I leaned over and whispered--No Korean, only English. Again, she nodded and stopped. Of course, a couple minutes later, she started again. This time, I stood at the front of the class and said, in a stern voice, "No Korean, only English!", while looking at her. She immediately started, literally, sobbing as if her heart was broken and wouldn't be consoled.

2. Why did it happen?

My reaction of Lola--Part of it was the way I am as a teacher--I'm more strict than lenient. I'm more authoritarian than casual. Etc. Part of it was my lack of previous experience teaching children--none of which had included children as young as she was or female. In fact, my only kindergarten experience had been at this particular hagwon with a third-year class of all boys (7-years old). Part of it was the fact that I'm not a mother. Part of it was my frustration at having to tell her three times not to do the exact same thing, which goes back to lack of experience because her behavior was typical of a 5-year old.

As for Lola's reaction to me--I'm quite sure that no one had ever spoken to her in a voice like that in her entire, short life. Add that to her confidence being shaken by my reaction to her singing.

3. What might it mean?

Hmmmm. . .maybe it meant that I shouldn't have been teaching children as young as 5. Maybe it meant I was right in my original thinking that someone younger and more fun and less stringent, etc should have taken that class. Maybe it meant that I didn't like little girls, only little boys. Maybe it meant alot of negative things, but I already knew one thing and realized another.

The thing I knew (know) is that little kids, in general, adore me. They like being around me. They want to please me. They want to play with me and sit in my lap and cuddle and listen to me read stories and eat snacks and every other thing that a little kid ever wanted to do. I know this fact from long experience with OPC (other people's children) and have faith in it. The thing that I realized was that I was using a sort-of cookie-cutter attitude for all of the 7 children in that class. And that attitude was informed by my previous experience teaching the class of 3 7-year old boys. Lola was: 1. not a boy; 2. younger than my previous students; and, 3. while still a 5-year old, had more mature leadership qualities and abilities than most other kindergarteners. So my learning curve took a sharp turn north.

4. What are the implication for my practice?

To answer that, I should finish the story--after no amount of consolation would quiet Lola, I picked her up in my arms, sat her in my lap and continued the class. Her small head was burrowed into my neck and she was still crying but she trusted me enough to stay where she was, her arms wrapped around me. Every few minutes, I lowered my head and whispered something comforting, "Better now?" or "Feel OK?" or whatever, while I calmly rubbed her back, like I was stroking a cat. It took about 15 minutes but she stopped crying and asked to go to the bathroom.

I understood that her pride had been hurt as well as her feelings. She liked me and trusted me and, for her, having a reprimand from me, much less a public one, was something she couldn't process. After that incident, she was still overwhelmingly the class leader and still liked to please me and make me laugh, but she also knew where my classroom boundaries as well as the school's were. If she did something outside of those boundaries, it only took one gentle reminder.

In a larger context, that one occurance caused me to deal with most students and teaching situations in a more reflective and even critical manner. My sense of an individual student has become more empathetic in many cases in addition to trying to solve potential problems before they get to a difficult point.