It seems as if in the past months bilingual education is only discussed in connection to the Arizona immigration laws. However, there are many reasons why one should try to stay focused on the real issues of bilingualism, and not get discouraged by wrapping it up in a flag of panicky paranoia. I like to break into two groups the benefits of being raised bilingual: the cultural and the phisiological. Many people like to discuss and debate the pros and cons of being raised not only bilingually but bi-culturally by either throwing roses on what a beautiful multicultural experience being bilingual is, or by expressing their fears and doubts of losing a certain cultural identity by having to make room for another. Less complicated to debate are the phisiological and neurological effects that bilingualism has on children and their developing brains. This is almost the most exciting aspect of second language aqcuisition, as it is not weighted down with politics or social pressures, and the brain of a child is almost always outdoing itself and our own expectations. For those of you bogged down by the recent heated debates about bilingual education, here are some simple reminders to why being raised bilingual is worthy of our struggle.
1. Codifying phonemes. Many times in our effort to assess second language acquisition we only concentrate on the verbal output of our children or students. In this we are missing out on half the fun! Remember that a baby probably begins to codify the phonemes he hears in human speech from the moment of birth, some even think it begins inside the womb. From as early as four months old, and surely by eight months old, a baby has already codified all of the phonemes in his or her "native language" and can at least recognize it as such. I have done the test, feeding my nephews baby food as they sit and drool and gurgle at me. Knowing that they had not heard any other language than English, I began to coo and baby talk to them in Spanish. You would have thought that I had sprouted elephant ears with the way they stopped eating, letting the mush fall from their chin-dropped mouths, the way they stared at me, and more intensely, at my mouth. These babies obviously were noticing a strong change in their world, and their brains were already hard at work recognizing and classifying these new sounds. How amazing! Bilingual children who have always had two -- or three, or five or seven -- languages spoken to them have been codifying the different phonemes all along, each connected to their distinct language, and have no trouble recognizing the languages as their own.
2. Developing speech muscles. It may seem easy to speak a second language, no matter what age, but only children will develop the correct muscles for pronunciation. There are many exercizes that adults con do to be able to pronounce the Spanish "R" or the French "R", but children don't even have to think. As mentioned above, the brain of a child is so amply equipped for language learning, that it is a shame not to be putting it to use, and having them later struggle through pronunciation exercizes. And it's not just the hard sounding consanants that give people a problem. Distinguishing the slight difference between a short vowel and a long vowel can be excruciating for adult language learners. And many times it is impossible for them to even be able to utter the sound "uh" because of two tiny muscles at the top of their throat that have never been used. A child raised with multiple languages develops more of these muscles at the right age, and no longer has to worry about it.
3. Selective hearing. We complain a lot that children have selective hearing, and only hear us when we ask "Who wants more ice cream?" instead of "Who wants to make their bed?" However, I find that children in general, when they begin to interact with language, depend deeply on selective listening. Baby talk is discouraged because a child is just as capable of understanding, "Daddy's gone to work now" even if his way of expressing it is "Dada go bye-bye." If children had to stop everytime there was a word uttered in a sentence that they did not understand, their progress would be much slower. But children's ears skip over the "speech-bumps" in the road to get a whole global understanding of what is being said. This is another talent that children have that adults do not. That's why it is so hard for adults to learn a second language. When they try to understand a sentence, they stop at the first word that they do not control. Compared to a child, an adult is incredibly impaired int this way. I find that children who have been raised bilingually do not have this same ailment. Their brains have been raised to selectively listen to language and work out the kinks as they go along. Adjectives may appear before or after the nouns, there could be gender details imbedded in nouns and articles. Morphemes may be larger than they appear.
4. Overall brain stimulation. There are a number of studies relating bilingual education to further academic success. I am not promising that bilingual children will be better students. However, at a time when parents are taking their toddlers to special classes for early stimulation of the senses, a second language only proves to be a stimulation well worth the effort. The organizational skills involved in the codifying and classifying of structures and mechanics is applicable to math skills. The manipulation of both sets of codes and grammar helps in overall expression and maturity. Parents should be weary of signing their babies up for any activity with the sole purpose of turning them into a Superbaby. However, with the studies all showing that early stimulation has positive effects on the brain development and its achievements throughout life, bilingualism seems to be a gift we can give our children, seeing that they are already equipped to use it to their advantage. How many times have I had a kindergartener with a real flair for English as a second language, and almost on the verge of declaring the child a genius, there always comes out a detail of a bilingual past. "No, we lived in Ibiza until he was three and they spoke the dialect at his preschool. But he wasn't at a speaking age yet. Since we moved away before he could talk, we didn't think anything really stuck." So a child who was exposed to another language, even at short intervals, now is appearing to be a genius compared to his classmates.
5. Cultural Awareness. There is much debate about culture and ethnicity and the topics are far too long and drawn out to be covered completely. However, I do believe that the best way to know yourself is by comparing yourself to others and noticing similarities and differences. Growing up with two languages gives a child an opportunity of developing a more in-depth study of himself or herself. Whether they be fully aware that different languages are connected to different cultures or not, they will begin to develop different sides to their personalities depending on what language they are speaking. Some people find themselves to be more dramatic and theatrical with a second language, depending greater on non-verbal communication to fill in the gaps when necessary. Others find they count better in one language, tell jokes better in another, speak one more often when they are angry, etc. Monolinguals do not have the chance to get into the same depth.
Bilingualism is not the answer to every child's future success. However, it is also not worthy of being in the eye of the hurricane, as it seems to be in light of our current economic crisis and anti-immigration laws. If for nothing more than the pure joy of seeing the human brain functioning on its highest level, in the minds of children as they acquire language, bilingualism should be promoted and supported.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Resisting the Temptation of Correcting
Parents and teachers alike seem to be under the same pressure of "doing it right" when it comes to raising or teaching bilingual children. Many times I only feel the temptation of correcting my students or my children because so many of my colleagues seem to make a point of correcting their students -- sometimes mid-sentence -- to assure proper grammar and usage. It really makes the rest of us, who don't correct on the spot, feel like we're not doing our job. But I have found that in my urgency to resist "the correction" I have narrowed it down to three very good reasons why correcting second language speakers is not effective.
1. It just gets in the way. If a speaker is actually bold enough to be speaking in another language, their brain is already so focused on what they are saying that they aren't always able to absorb the correction. We aren't aware of all of the thought processes going on inside the head of the speaker when he or she is selecting language, and a correction might just be blocking other important linguistic functions.
2. It's just not natural. Can you imagine following a two-year-old around and correcting them mid-sentence all day long? It would be exhausting for both parties involved, and normally one of two things happens. The child either completely ignores the corrections in their insistence on care-free happiness; or the child speaks less and less, and avoids being corrected. Both of these reactions are natural for a two-year-old, as well as for any language learner, of any age.
3. It hinders future language use. Even the best of students, who don't mind being corrected, will be hindered on their future language use with someone who is always correcting them. The affective filter involved with language acquisition is a very real thing. When we don't want a child to touch a hot stove we may wrap them on the wrist as they reach their hand towards the stove, so that they won't ever want to touch the stove again. Well, I find correcting a speaker to be like a wrap on the wrist. Now matter how much we think that it is for their own good, when applied to language use, it can only hinder them on their next experience. Remember, we WANT them to touch the stove!
It would be very bold to simply announce that one should never correct language speakers without offering solutions, but there are ways to remedy poor language use.
1. As a teacher or parent, try to "shelf" the mistakes that are made, and save the corrections for a later time, maybe even just five minutes after the conversation has ended. This usually happens if a certain type of mistake is being repeated (using "fun" for "funny", or "boring" for "bored" just to name a few obvious ones.) As a teacher you can even create worksheets full of real-life mistakes handed in to you in writing assignments or oral conversations. The students don't have to know that they are being corrected, as they now have the time to think properly, and correct themselves.
2. "Trick" them into being corrected. Sometimes a mistake can be so blatant and hindering to the understanding of a sentence, that I just can't leave it alone. Instead of saying, "What? Excuse me?" over and over again, I will try to repeat a correct sentence of what I think the student is asking. So if I hear something like, "I no no sit." I might say, "You don't know where to sit?" It may even take a while to hit it on the head, but this reinforcement of correct language is what they are going to remember, not the correction that I may painstakingly point out, or even require the repetition of the correct sentence.
3. Let them know that mistakes are OK. On some level, most speakers know that they are saying things wrong, and that you are just forgiving them their mistakes for the sake of a decent conversation. It helps to put everybody on the same level. I never correct my students and I never correct my children, and I find that the language just comes pouring out of their mouths, mistakes included. I find that I gain more than I lose. Somehow, even though they know that their language is not perfect, their confidence level sky rockets. It is important to prohibit students, and siblings, from correcting their peers or younger brothers and sisters for this very reason. Every September I get a new group of students, and it always surprises me to hear certain students blurt out on the first day of school, "You don't say it like that." or something equally as pleasing. I have such a strong reaction to students thinking they can correct their peers, that it normally doesn't last the first week through, and I don't have a problem for the rest of the year. Many students have come back for a visit and told me that they liked my class because they weren't allowed to correct each other, and that can be very freeing.
Overall, let's face it, the mistakes we make as language learners can be a very fun part of the whole experience. I highly encourage teachers and parents to share with their students or children their own stories of second language learning blunders. I always kick off every school year telling my students funny stories of the mistakes I have made learning Spanish. Like the time I said that my father, an attorney (abogado), was a meatball (albóndiga). Or instead of ordering coffee with milk (café con leche) I ordered coffee with lettuce (café con lechuga, the waiter actually brought out a coffee placed on a lettuce leaf. It was fun, or was it funny?!) Laughter is always the best medicine, and it's nice for them to know that their own blunders will just be a part of their learning experience that they will be able to look back on and laugh. It can even be a complex and creative exercise to anticipate possible blunders by finding words that sound similar but have very different meanings.
And above all, it is important for all of us to remember that NO LANGUAGE IS EVER COMPLETELY LEARNED. We can always learn new vocabulary, even in our native language. I like to tell my students that learning a language is like jumping into the ocean. You swim around and get wet, and can even get very far. But nobody ever thinks they are going to actually get to the other side. Language learning - ¡EMPÁPATE!
1. It just gets in the way. If a speaker is actually bold enough to be speaking in another language, their brain is already so focused on what they are saying that they aren't always able to absorb the correction. We aren't aware of all of the thought processes going on inside the head of the speaker when he or she is selecting language, and a correction might just be blocking other important linguistic functions.
2. It's just not natural. Can you imagine following a two-year-old around and correcting them mid-sentence all day long? It would be exhausting for both parties involved, and normally one of two things happens. The child either completely ignores the corrections in their insistence on care-free happiness; or the child speaks less and less, and avoids being corrected. Both of these reactions are natural for a two-year-old, as well as for any language learner, of any age.
3. It hinders future language use. Even the best of students, who don't mind being corrected, will be hindered on their future language use with someone who is always correcting them. The affective filter involved with language acquisition is a very real thing. When we don't want a child to touch a hot stove we may wrap them on the wrist as they reach their hand towards the stove, so that they won't ever want to touch the stove again. Well, I find correcting a speaker to be like a wrap on the wrist. Now matter how much we think that it is for their own good, when applied to language use, it can only hinder them on their next experience. Remember, we WANT them to touch the stove!
It would be very bold to simply announce that one should never correct language speakers without offering solutions, but there are ways to remedy poor language use.
1. As a teacher or parent, try to "shelf" the mistakes that are made, and save the corrections for a later time, maybe even just five minutes after the conversation has ended. This usually happens if a certain type of mistake is being repeated (using "fun" for "funny", or "boring" for "bored" just to name a few obvious ones.) As a teacher you can even create worksheets full of real-life mistakes handed in to you in writing assignments or oral conversations. The students don't have to know that they are being corrected, as they now have the time to think properly, and correct themselves.
2. "Trick" them into being corrected. Sometimes a mistake can be so blatant and hindering to the understanding of a sentence, that I just can't leave it alone. Instead of saying, "What? Excuse me?" over and over again, I will try to repeat a correct sentence of what I think the student is asking. So if I hear something like, "I no no sit." I might say, "You don't know where to sit?" It may even take a while to hit it on the head, but this reinforcement of correct language is what they are going to remember, not the correction that I may painstakingly point out, or even require the repetition of the correct sentence.
3. Let them know that mistakes are OK. On some level, most speakers know that they are saying things wrong, and that you are just forgiving them their mistakes for the sake of a decent conversation. It helps to put everybody on the same level. I never correct my students and I never correct my children, and I find that the language just comes pouring out of their mouths, mistakes included. I find that I gain more than I lose. Somehow, even though they know that their language is not perfect, their confidence level sky rockets. It is important to prohibit students, and siblings, from correcting their peers or younger brothers and sisters for this very reason. Every September I get a new group of students, and it always surprises me to hear certain students blurt out on the first day of school, "You don't say it like that." or something equally as pleasing. I have such a strong reaction to students thinking they can correct their peers, that it normally doesn't last the first week through, and I don't have a problem for the rest of the year. Many students have come back for a visit and told me that they liked my class because they weren't allowed to correct each other, and that can be very freeing.
Overall, let's face it, the mistakes we make as language learners can be a very fun part of the whole experience. I highly encourage teachers and parents to share with their students or children their own stories of second language learning blunders. I always kick off every school year telling my students funny stories of the mistakes I have made learning Spanish. Like the time I said that my father, an attorney (abogado), was a meatball (albóndiga). Or instead of ordering coffee with milk (café con leche) I ordered coffee with lettuce (café con lechuga, the waiter actually brought out a coffee placed on a lettuce leaf. It was fun, or was it funny?!) Laughter is always the best medicine, and it's nice for them to know that their own blunders will just be a part of their learning experience that they will be able to look back on and laugh. It can even be a complex and creative exercise to anticipate possible blunders by finding words that sound similar but have very different meanings.
And above all, it is important for all of us to remember that NO LANGUAGE IS EVER COMPLETELY LEARNED. We can always learn new vocabulary, even in our native language. I like to tell my students that learning a language is like jumping into the ocean. You swim around and get wet, and can even get very far. But nobody ever thinks they are going to actually get to the other side. Language learning - ¡EMPÁPATE!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Teaching Comparative Literature in Kindergarten
Yes, it can be done. Having studied a Masters in Comparative Literature, I didn't feel like I was applying anything I had learned on campus to my current job teaching kindergarten, in English, to Spanish children. However, in my quest to get the children interested in learning, and using their English, I found that the comparative perspective to any subject, at any age, was just a way of thinking, a natural thought process that can be encouraged at any age.
For example, every kindergarten classroom in the world probably starts out with carpet time. At the tender age of five it's difficult to have activities that require a long attention span, and that time is cut short if you are teaching in a foreign language. So every morning I started reading them a storybook, and then continued on to other activities. It was either my love of children's literature, or their love of storybooks, but it was the best time of the day. I found that even though I was always fishing for a new book, a new story, constantly checking off books from the list and wanting to introduce them to new themes, new vocabulary, new story lines -- they were always asking for the same ones, their favorites. I found that "story time" was getting longer and longer each morning, as I would repeat many favorites before introducing the one that was actually in my daily program. I began to notice that what children liked most about a storybook is the anticipation of what they know is coming. When I'm about to turn the page and put on a funny voice, I can already see their smiles waiting in anticipation, and that is their juciest moment. I sometimes even tease them and take a long while to turn the page, as they whine and whimper their impatience.
With this idea in my head I began to develop a longer story time. What was a in such a hurry for? Every week I began to introduce a new story, a known folktale that most had already read, or had in their house. After reading the storybook I told the children that if anyone had this storybook in their house that they could bring it to school during the week and everyday we would read a new version. Well, if you can believe it, we sometimes spent up to two weeks reading different versions of popular folktales, and everyday we would have heated discussions about the similarities and differences between the versions of the story. In the beginning it was mostly physical details: "In this story the Gingerbread man has red buttons, and in that story he has blue buttons." I began to notice that as I read each new story everyday, the children were already blurting out minute differences between the stories as I turned the pages. Before long my kindergarteners were saying things like, "The fox in this story is much more "malvado." And we would have to spend five minutes debating whether this fox was more evil, and why, the vices used to trick the Gingerbread man, etc.
This experience led me to develop the stories that I have written. As each story contains three versions, it is the same story each time, but with similarities and differences depending on who is the main character. The first version is told by Danny, who is seven, shy, responsible . . . my students immediately admire him as the oldest of the children, practically an adult in their eyes. Jack is the middle child, fun-loving, playful, dreamy. They have the most fun hearing from Jack, as he is the same age. Marta is perhaps the most intriguing for them, as she gives a perspective which brings them back to their own memories of being three, and not always understanding the world around them. They often express how grown-up they feel compared to Marta. We developed a lot of classroom activities around the three characters, making puppet shows, acting out skits, creating new endings to different stories depending on who is telling it. It was almost as if Danny, Jack and Marta had become members of our class, and were given their own niche amongst the group.
Teaching Comparative Literature in the kindergarten class is not something that can be done instantly. I find that by initiating in the fall, it is a natural way of teaching the children how to enjoy literature, as well as simply a way to notice the world around them with a larger emphasis given to detail. It has helped them to develop a longer attention span by encouraging them to anticipate, and it has even given them the curiosity to speak in a second language. Most will probably not go on to study Comparative Literature, but for now it has made them more intelligent human beings.
For example, every kindergarten classroom in the world probably starts out with carpet time. At the tender age of five it's difficult to have activities that require a long attention span, and that time is cut short if you are teaching in a foreign language. So every morning I started reading them a storybook, and then continued on to other activities. It was either my love of children's literature, or their love of storybooks, but it was the best time of the day. I found that even though I was always fishing for a new book, a new story, constantly checking off books from the list and wanting to introduce them to new themes, new vocabulary, new story lines -- they were always asking for the same ones, their favorites. I found that "story time" was getting longer and longer each morning, as I would repeat many favorites before introducing the one that was actually in my daily program. I began to notice that what children liked most about a storybook is the anticipation of what they know is coming. When I'm about to turn the page and put on a funny voice, I can already see their smiles waiting in anticipation, and that is their juciest moment. I sometimes even tease them and take a long while to turn the page, as they whine and whimper their impatience.
With this idea in my head I began to develop a longer story time. What was a in such a hurry for? Every week I began to introduce a new story, a known folktale that most had already read, or had in their house. After reading the storybook I told the children that if anyone had this storybook in their house that they could bring it to school during the week and everyday we would read a new version. Well, if you can believe it, we sometimes spent up to two weeks reading different versions of popular folktales, and everyday we would have heated discussions about the similarities and differences between the versions of the story. In the beginning it was mostly physical details: "In this story the Gingerbread man has red buttons, and in that story he has blue buttons." I began to notice that as I read each new story everyday, the children were already blurting out minute differences between the stories as I turned the pages. Before long my kindergarteners were saying things like, "The fox in this story is much more "malvado." And we would have to spend five minutes debating whether this fox was more evil, and why, the vices used to trick the Gingerbread man, etc.
This experience led me to develop the stories that I have written. As each story contains three versions, it is the same story each time, but with similarities and differences depending on who is the main character. The first version is told by Danny, who is seven, shy, responsible . . . my students immediately admire him as the oldest of the children, practically an adult in their eyes. Jack is the middle child, fun-loving, playful, dreamy. They have the most fun hearing from Jack, as he is the same age. Marta is perhaps the most intriguing for them, as she gives a perspective which brings them back to their own memories of being three, and not always understanding the world around them. They often express how grown-up they feel compared to Marta. We developed a lot of classroom activities around the three characters, making puppet shows, acting out skits, creating new endings to different stories depending on who is telling it. It was almost as if Danny, Jack and Marta had become members of our class, and were given their own niche amongst the group.
Teaching Comparative Literature in the kindergarten class is not something that can be done instantly. I find that by initiating in the fall, it is a natural way of teaching the children how to enjoy literature, as well as simply a way to notice the world around them with a larger emphasis given to detail. It has helped them to develop a longer attention span by encouraging them to anticipate, and it has even given them the curiosity to speak in a second language. Most will probably not go on to study Comparative Literature, but for now it has made them more intelligent human beings.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Non-Verbal Communication:
The Key to Unlocking Second Language Acquisition
As a language teacher, and a mother raising my children in a foreign country, and in a foreign language, my number one goal for both my students and my children is for them to succeed at communicating in a second language. However, it has been frustrating to see time and time again that many first attempts fail miserably. Was it me? Was I not teaching effectively? Did my students just not have the “knack” for speaking in English? When reviewing why the attempts failed I couldn’t detect the problem because, in most cases, they got all of the words right. Verbs had been conjugated adequately, tenses respected, vocabulary correctly applied. But the listener always answered with a look of complete misunderstanding, that horrible “Excuse me?” we get when we attempt to communicate that perfect sentence, one that we had already formulated in our heads before the moment, revised and corrected three times to make sure it was perfect, only to find that we may as well have been speaking in Martian. After years of analyzing these frustrated attempts, the only flaw I could find was that the language just didn’t seem natural. There were no “ums” or “ahs”, no gesticulating hands dancing around thoughtlessly in the air, no wrinkled foreheads or laughing eyes. The big problem was that on first attempts at speaking a foreign language, we are so wrought with attention given to subject-verb agreement and grammatical perfection that the rest of the body seems to shut down to power all of the energy into words. When I read an article that insisted that as much as 40%, and in some instances up to 90%, of communication is non-verbal, I decided it was something I should give my attention to.
But how to teach non-verbal communication in a second language classroom? Wasn’t our time supposed to be filled with vocabulary lists, irregular verbs, spelling tests. It was all about words. I found that when I stopped giving class in English and let my Spanish students have a heated classroom debate in their own language, my classroom was suddenly noisier, rowdier, children leaning back in their chairs, others lifting to their knees with an urgency to be heard, arms flailing in disgust when disagreeing, spontaneous applause given when supportive. How could I “teach” them to do this in English, if they weren’t even aware of what they were doing?
My first task was to do just that, show them what they were “doing.” Having Spanish children as subjects made my job easier, as they were non-verbal communication experts by right of birth. I started playing around, asking them to tell me the meaning of many different gestures that I had “learned” over the years as a foreigner in Spain, that all Spanish people understood: how to comment on the fact that a room is really crowded, how to express that one is “broke”, and doesn’t have any money, how to describe that somebody is really thin, even how to let my students know that I am getting angry and that they are walking on thin ice. All of these concepts could be understood unanimously amongst my students with a simple movement of the hand. But they were baffled when I told them that if they made these signs in California, nobody would know what they were talking about. It was a first realization of their own cultural code.
The next step was to notice different cultural codes in the world around them. I had always been avid on using DVDs in the classroom, studying dialogues, memorizing dialogues, acting out scenes. But now we started watching DVDs, but with no sound. What do you think is happening? How are the actors using their bodies to communicate? My students started becoming obsessed with corporal language, inventing new signs for new terms, analyzing one another during classroom discussions. Our show-and-tell activities and classroom presentations were much more professional now that the children really understood the importance of incorporating a correct body language to support their message.
From here we opened up the topic to include the importance of symbols within a culture. I quickly organized a PowerPoint presentation of 100 symbols that I knew all of my students would recognize on the spot. And not only could they recognize the symbols, but they were all aware of the deeper meaning rooted to the symbol. The symbol of Mercedes Benz, someone who is rich and powerful, the symbol of Nike, a top athlete. Even symbols like the Red Cross, a Stop sign or a No Smoking sign were instantly recognized as informative. We even took it a step further and began to analyse how symbolism has changed in history, from medieval shields to modern day marketing, changes in fashion as a form of communication, the symbolism behind tribal tattoos or dances, the use of symbols in ceremonies like weddings, funerals, religious celebrations. The possibilities seemed to be endless, and spanned around the globe.
What I liked most about this project on non-verbal communication was what the students ended up bringing to the class themselves. As they began to focus on these aspects of their own culture, they went out into the world around them with a different perspective, one that gave them great insights into a new culture before they even had to utter a word. One student learned the Hakka dance from a neighbour from New Zealand, and told us its meaning. A boy born in Spain to Chinese parents suddenly became interested in the folk tales his grandfather had always told him, and the symbolism involved. It seemed as if every weekend were another opportunity to go out into the world and find the deeper meaning behind the symbols in their paths. Yes, they still complained about the spelling tests and grammar exercises, and I still insisted that they at least try to conjugate their verbs correctly, but I found that with the knowledge of a deeper non-verbal communication that my students were not only developing another language, but were beginning to develop another identity, another sub-culture to add to their own native culture. Not only were they more enthused to learn English, but they were becoming passionate about the different English-speaking cultures themselves, unlocking the secrets to the aspects hidden between the words. In this way I realized that not only should I be responsible for teaching them how to be good speakers, but how to be good communicators.
The Key to Unlocking Second Language Acquisition
As a language teacher, and a mother raising my children in a foreign country, and in a foreign language, my number one goal for both my students and my children is for them to succeed at communicating in a second language. However, it has been frustrating to see time and time again that many first attempts fail miserably. Was it me? Was I not teaching effectively? Did my students just not have the “knack” for speaking in English? When reviewing why the attempts failed I couldn’t detect the problem because, in most cases, they got all of the words right. Verbs had been conjugated adequately, tenses respected, vocabulary correctly applied. But the listener always answered with a look of complete misunderstanding, that horrible “Excuse me?” we get when we attempt to communicate that perfect sentence, one that we had already formulated in our heads before the moment, revised and corrected three times to make sure it was perfect, only to find that we may as well have been speaking in Martian. After years of analyzing these frustrated attempts, the only flaw I could find was that the language just didn’t seem natural. There were no “ums” or “ahs”, no gesticulating hands dancing around thoughtlessly in the air, no wrinkled foreheads or laughing eyes. The big problem was that on first attempts at speaking a foreign language, we are so wrought with attention given to subject-verb agreement and grammatical perfection that the rest of the body seems to shut down to power all of the energy into words. When I read an article that insisted that as much as 40%, and in some instances up to 90%, of communication is non-verbal, I decided it was something I should give my attention to.
But how to teach non-verbal communication in a second language classroom? Wasn’t our time supposed to be filled with vocabulary lists, irregular verbs, spelling tests. It was all about words. I found that when I stopped giving class in English and let my Spanish students have a heated classroom debate in their own language, my classroom was suddenly noisier, rowdier, children leaning back in their chairs, others lifting to their knees with an urgency to be heard, arms flailing in disgust when disagreeing, spontaneous applause given when supportive. How could I “teach” them to do this in English, if they weren’t even aware of what they were doing?
My first task was to do just that, show them what they were “doing.” Having Spanish children as subjects made my job easier, as they were non-verbal communication experts by right of birth. I started playing around, asking them to tell me the meaning of many different gestures that I had “learned” over the years as a foreigner in Spain, that all Spanish people understood: how to comment on the fact that a room is really crowded, how to express that one is “broke”, and doesn’t have any money, how to describe that somebody is really thin, even how to let my students know that I am getting angry and that they are walking on thin ice. All of these concepts could be understood unanimously amongst my students with a simple movement of the hand. But they were baffled when I told them that if they made these signs in California, nobody would know what they were talking about. It was a first realization of their own cultural code.
The next step was to notice different cultural codes in the world around them. I had always been avid on using DVDs in the classroom, studying dialogues, memorizing dialogues, acting out scenes. But now we started watching DVDs, but with no sound. What do you think is happening? How are the actors using their bodies to communicate? My students started becoming obsessed with corporal language, inventing new signs for new terms, analyzing one another during classroom discussions. Our show-and-tell activities and classroom presentations were much more professional now that the children really understood the importance of incorporating a correct body language to support their message.
From here we opened up the topic to include the importance of symbols within a culture. I quickly organized a PowerPoint presentation of 100 symbols that I knew all of my students would recognize on the spot. And not only could they recognize the symbols, but they were all aware of the deeper meaning rooted to the symbol. The symbol of Mercedes Benz, someone who is rich and powerful, the symbol of Nike, a top athlete. Even symbols like the Red Cross, a Stop sign or a No Smoking sign were instantly recognized as informative. We even took it a step further and began to analyse how symbolism has changed in history, from medieval shields to modern day marketing, changes in fashion as a form of communication, the symbolism behind tribal tattoos or dances, the use of symbols in ceremonies like weddings, funerals, religious celebrations. The possibilities seemed to be endless, and spanned around the globe.
What I liked most about this project on non-verbal communication was what the students ended up bringing to the class themselves. As they began to focus on these aspects of their own culture, they went out into the world around them with a different perspective, one that gave them great insights into a new culture before they even had to utter a word. One student learned the Hakka dance from a neighbour from New Zealand, and told us its meaning. A boy born in Spain to Chinese parents suddenly became interested in the folk tales his grandfather had always told him, and the symbolism involved. It seemed as if every weekend were another opportunity to go out into the world and find the deeper meaning behind the symbols in their paths. Yes, they still complained about the spelling tests and grammar exercises, and I still insisted that they at least try to conjugate their verbs correctly, but I found that with the knowledge of a deeper non-verbal communication that my students were not only developing another language, but were beginning to develop another identity, another sub-culture to add to their own native culture. Not only were they more enthused to learn English, but they were becoming passionate about the different English-speaking cultures themselves, unlocking the secrets to the aspects hidden between the words. In this way I realized that not only should I be responsible for teaching them how to be good speakers, but how to be good communicators.
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