Learning to talk...

My kids are talking. And wow… are they talking!  This isn’t entirely new, but it’s hit a level that I find remarkable. It’s like they have been accumulating opinions since birth and are now in the amazing process of putting words to their desires.  It’s pretty exciting, actually, from multiple perspectives.

As their mom, this stuff is exciting for me. I love watching them become more independent and powerful. Ok, most of the time… sometimes I just wish they would lie down, roll over and comply. Especially when I’m in a hurry. But most of the time I find it fascinating.

Secondarily, I observe them from a professional perspective. After all, I am a language teacher and a HUGE language geek. I’m not sure which one came first, the profession or the geekiness. Sort of like the chicken and egg conundrum. Never to be solved. Oh well.

The other day I was playing with my kids. My son loves trucks and he picked up his favored dump truck. “Big truck”. He exclaims. Yes, it is a big truck, I agree. “Yellow truck” he adds. Yes, it is a yellow truck, I agree. He pauses, thinks. Then he says. “Yellow, big truck”. Yup kiddo, it’s both yellow and big. “Big, yellow truck” I affirm/correct, smiling proudly. He grins back. “Yellow, big truck”.  Then he runs off, ecstatically, exclaiming “vroom vroom, beep beep”.

My daughter loves dresses. (It’s one of her few, and new, girly passions) Some days if I put her in shorts and t-shirt, she objects bitterly. She pulls frantically at her t-shirt screeching, “Wear dress on”. “You want to put your dress on? You want to wear your dress?” I ask, correcting delicately. “Yes, wear dress on!” She puts on her wonderful GINORMOUS grin of victory.

I think it’s fair to say my corrections went unnoticed.

My semester is starting up and we had our traditional start of semester meeting. As a side note, I love these meetings. I have worked at many different educational establishments but none have compared to the way this school runs meetings, both in reality and in concept. They are not meant to be wasted time, yet they are not meant to be rushed either. They are efficient, thorough and intellectual. I love it. I leave these meetings with an extended to do list and a million essential questions swirling in my head. Now that’s what I call intellectual stimulation.

This particular meeting was especially engaging for me. My level of interest may be somewhat augmented by the fact that I have been solely at home this summer and totally void of academic and professional thought. Simply reentering the world of academia may have been enough.

That said, I really liked this meeting.  Many topics were touched on, but I was intrigued by the discussion of language correction. It seems that experts are now studying error correction and have determined that one significant barrier to improvement is that the student frequently does not notice their mistake or the teacher’s correction. Interesting…  Maybe they don’t always hear what we were trying to say.  (This could apply on so many levels its frightening… anyone need a thesis topic?)

We, as a faculty of educators, are attempting to overcome what is commonly called the plateau effect in learning.  Beginners typically make decently quick progress to intermediate. Intermediate level learners frequently make decent progress to low advanced. Once they hit low advanced, however, the progress slows considerably. Sometimes it even stops entirely. It’s a hard place to progress from.

We’ve all seen it. The native speaker of another language who speaks English pretty darn well. We understand them well, rarely ask them to repeat themselves and can chat with them enjoyably. But as you listen to them, you hear noticeable grammar errors that probably wouldn’t be tolerated in a professional workplace. You see spelling errors that a professional boss would cringe upon seeing. You hear word choice that is just “off” enough to cause momentary confusion or possible cultural misunderstanding. And this person has likely been at this stage for a while.

I’m not judging, mind you. As a learner of languages I have sympathy for these learners. Actually, it’s more like empathy. I have been that student, both with French and Spanish. I could party like a rock star or even have a vaguely profound conversation.  But could I function at the doctor? No, not really. Not easily. Could I deal with creating a new cell phone account? Maybe… but it would be sweat inducing.

So, what’s my point?

My point today is somewhat vague. My goal is not to provide an answer, but more to open a question. Really open it up, take it apart and give it a good examination. Here are some of the questions I ponder.

1-      I wonder how much of my frustration comes from attempting to communicate a point to my kids and believing incorrectly that I have been understood. I also wonder if that frustration is limited to home, or does it extend to my classroom? Is it even limited to adult/child conversations?

2-      I wonder how much correction is too much. When is the correction time sensitive and beneficial? When is it “too much”, either developmentally or emotionally?

3-      And, finally… How does our fascination with accuracy impact how our children/students see their progress? My kids were overjoyed at the end of our conversations, despite having made errors. They had won something, accomplished something. Where does real confidence come from? The belief of success or being entirely correct? Maybe a little of both?

We live in a world where the term “Tiger Mom” is commonly understood (Check out http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html if you need more information), where many American students don’t have a basic foundation of education and overall world knowledge and some of the more regimented/traditional countries are finding themselves without creative thinkers. We live in a world where cheating is rampant due to increased pressure to perform and students are being asked to balance more than ever before. It’s no longer good enough to do well, enjoy yourself and work hard. You have to be football star (feel free to substitute sport of choice) and an A student if you are aiming for the Ivy League.

Maybe we all need to evaluate ourselves and our actions based on how we answer the above questions.  Even if we all answer them differently, we might act in a way that is more authentic to ourselves. Make us better parents and educators.