At the Foot of Arjuno

At the Foot of Arjuno

Thursday, December 5, 2013

English Language Learning as Product or Service?

Have you ever thought of language learning as a "product"? I  never had until recently. I'm not that well-read in education terminology, but I'd think of language learning as more of a service rendered than a product delivered. Of course, I don't associate teaching English with making money, either, but I'm only just learning about how big such an industry is, especially in places where knowing English as a second (or third or fourth) language can be the difference between a not-so-good job and a better job.

But about products and services.

Products are a one-stop answer. Moisturizer. Car wax. Bug spray.

Services seem to imply relationship. House cleaning. (I'll come to your house, check it out, give you a price and if I do a good job, you'll hire me again). Computer updates and repairs...checking, assessing, making adjustments... In short, with a service there is an expectation of dialogue (How many times a week? What seems to be the problem? Has it happened before?) Possibly even some kind of analysis in order to provide a better, more complete remedy.

It's taken me too long to figure this out, but while I don't agree with everything Michelle Kelly-Irving says, this article helped a bit and at least made me realize that I may not be jumping to too many conclusions. Her argument is basically that requiring English to be the language of academic writing has "downsides...that affect knowledge, science, policy and ultimately human thinking. This imposition of English upon the rest of the world, as well as being imperialism on a global scale, is also a form of cultural, and maybe even cognitive hegemony...".

At first, I disagreed vehemently with her assertions, but as I thought about it more, she does make at least one valid point. Speaking English in many countries is not the romanticized notion of "being one" with a world community, sharing and contributing ideas, or embarking on an empowered adventure of life-long learning; but possibly a feather in the cap of status and exaggerated sense of "betterness", if you will. I often see it on Facebook - heavy or potentially contentious conversations in Indonesian will be interrupted by someone using English that is usually constructed in such a way as to demean, ridicule, or "put another" in their place". I've also noticed that for quite a few, passing the TOEFL or IELTS test in order to study abroad is often not to learn, empower those at home and contribute to the universe of ideas, but as a means to gain a promotion or more posh position...sometimes even just to get away from it all.

The status associated with English speaking ability would be easy to blow it off as yet another vestige of a colonial past, but as the famous Indonesian author, Pramoedia Ananta Toer, put in the mouth of one of his characters, the Dutch were successful here because all they had to do was to tap into an existing social order, or hierarchy. Not quite a caste system, but it exists and is pretty obvious to a Southern American who grew up with something quite similar. People have a place and there are countless mechanisms to make sure it stays that way.

It's tiresome and as an English teacher with a conscience, I can't justify teaching skills that are often used in ways that further class divisions, put down rather than raise up, make money for someone with no real concern that students achieve a holistic mastery of the language, and that even promote "snootiness".

Teaching English can be a big business here. Of course, in order for that to happen, one needs to teach English as if it were some kind of product rather than a service; a package with materials and number of lessons. Services can include product, for sure, but a product without service and a commitment to building a culture of learning is nothing of true value.

Services empower and build relationship. Products will always need another application as soon as the first wears off. Services engage, build relationship and can build a foundation for life-long learning for all involved. Marketing English language learning as a product to be sold and bought is an affront to true education, an ineffective tool for true comprehension and objectifies one of the most versatile, powerful and beautiful languages in the world.

I want to teach English, but more than that, I want to inspire minds to use English in ways that truly empower, allow soulful reflection and develop an ability to make a contribution, contextualized and powerful,  to the global library of ideas.

There are so many amazing teachers here - they love the students and want to see them succeed - as learners, as educated people, as assets to themselves and their communities.

Being a native English speaker has its perks, but I'm not interested in using that to make a buck, but to make a difference. I want to empower people to use English. I want to make connections, build a conducive environment for teachers to do what they do best and for anybody who wants to learn to be able to learn.

I don't want people to think like me, but I do want people to think...and if they choose, to use English to express their thoughts in ways that inspire, inform, and empower others.

That doesn't sound like a product to me, but I do believe that it can be a service. And a good one, at that.








A Privileged Position, Revisited

This post from "Brainpickings" is a bit more detailed than necessary for my immediate purposes, but I did borrow this image from there and it is quite appropriate for what I'd like to share today.


I want to talk about privilege again because it is damn tiresome. It's a blessing, a burden, and something that I've always wished I could ignore, but can't.

Privilege can have many forms. The most obvious to many of us is White privilege associated with institutionalized racism, but I think there are more kinds in addition to that one; being an American, having a job, owning a house, being a part of the majority group (whatever/wherever that may be), and of course, having lots of money. 

I don't remember exactly when I first became aware of privilege. I'm sure it was when I was very young, though. Maybe it was that my mother could pick me up from school every day in a car or that my family always had enough to eat. Maybe it was our house, our activities, or our opportunities. As long as you're with others who have the same, it's not very obvious. It's normal. But when you're out of context; in a diverse school, on your own, or in another country, it becomes very obvious to anyone who is paying attention.

When I was in 6th grade, there was an assembly to welcome the new members to the Beta Club, a group of students who had achieved a certain (high) GPA. I hunkered down in my seat, embarrassed. I knew my name wouldn't be called. My grades were horrible. I knew that I had dropped the ball and that I could do better.

Imagine my shock when I was called to the stage. 

That was one of the first instances of privilege I recall. Apparently it was not only embarrassing for me, but for the school who would let the upper middle class white girl with a stay at home mom and banker father fall through the cracks so horribly. 

I'm sure I asked about it - was likely shut down - continued to make bad grades...and continued to be a member of the Beta Club. Even becoming Vice President, Secretary or Treasurer, I can't remember now.

Instead of being grateful for such things, I continued to make bad grades, rebel and speak out, often arguing in class and passionately asking questions that made everybody uncomfortable. 

I guess the reason I want to talk about this is because it's a system. It's maintaining the status quo. It's the way. And it's truly not fair. 

By the time I got to high school, unearned privileges like Beta Club membership ceased to exist, but there were other things happening then. There were the girls who were pregnant and enjoyed cover from the administration to deal with their conditions and decisions whilst maintaining a bit of dignity, and there were the girls who didn't. I hope that I don't need to tell you who benefited and who did not. If you're unsure, please review the 3rd paragraph and note the most obvious kind of privilege.

I just shared those recollections to note that if we pay attention, privilege isn't something dark and sneaky. It's right there in the open.

As an American living abroad, I now understand a different kind of privilege. Anytime anything happens that doesn't suit us, we get homesick or something goes wrong, we can just pack our bags and go home. No commitment, no suffering or prolonged heartache, no repercussions for our actions...we just go home. That's nice, I think, but it also causes problems. Remember when we were kids and there was always the one who would get mad, pick up their toys and go home? Maybe they didn't want to share, be told what to do, or even eat what your Mom had made for dinner, but they could just go home. As you get older, you know the kids who play that way and you treat them accordingly. Either the kid changes or eventually you'll stop playing with them. People don't want to get too involved with anybody that will just pick up and leave whenever they don't get their way. That's what it's like as an American abroad. We can just go home when things aren't going to suit us. There's no need to really try to build relationship, no need to try to make a "real" life - we can always go back to a "real" life when we're finished playing.

Don't get me wrong, the ability to go "home" is a blessing and I'm grateful for that, but I don't think that it should be used as a crutch to escape situations that may be uncomfortable or ones in which we're not getting our way. Going home whenever we get our nose out of joint or to escape is unfair and unfortunate for a couple of reasons. First of all, it treats other places and people as objects for fun and convenience. As soon as things get serious or we hit a bump in the road, we bolt. It's rather exploitative and disrespectful. It means the people with whom you've been building a life are only conveniences to be left as necessary. This leads into number two. By running "home" at every possible opportunity, we often have to leave the people in our lives who should come with us, even for a short visit. See, for US citizens, we can go pretty much wherever we want. Few countries require visas prior to arrival, we can get the proper stamps at the airport and be on our happy way. People in other countries don't have that freedom. There are restrictions galore preventing people from other countries (especially developing countries or countries with non-Christian majorities) from entering the US, even for a short visit. It just doesn't seem fair.

I haven't been home in 3 years. Of course I miss my daughter, my family and my friends. I also miss BBQ, Southern food and good pizza. I can't go home yet. I'm not playing. I didn't come here to have fun and go snorkeling, jet setting here and there, or to take advantage of the kind of lifestyle an American salary affords here. I didn't leave all that was, and remains to be, precious to me to play. Besides that, I haven't had an American salary, or any salary, for over a year. I don't have money to run around as I might like, but I have enough for now.

I know that shocks people. It shocks people at home and here, as well. An American who doesn't run home as soon as things aren't going her way? 

Things aren't going the way they were, but that doesn't mean that they're not good. In some ways, yes, harder, but also more worthwhile. I sleep better. More meaningful, intentional and honest? Yes. 

I'm aware of my privilege, but I'm also aware that I am not my privilege. I am Charlotte. And as usual, I'm just doing the best I can.