Introduction

Currently, many countries around the world are attempting to reform their public education system. The two key reasons for this seem to be economics and the need to retain cultural identities while operating in a globalised context.

In a time of rapid change, how do we teach students to have a sense of cultural identify, while still being part of the process of globalisation? How do we raise standards in an education system was designed in a different age? To face these challenges, many people suggest that a paradigm shift is needed in education to develop learners who will thrive in an era of accelerating change and uncertainty.

I would like to thank the contributors to this edition for their excellent articles on the need to challenge the educational paradigm.

Please feel free to contact us at any time on . Use this address to send us your comments on any of the articles in this issue and other ideas you would like to share.

If you want to receive alerts when the next edition is published, or to receive our new InEnglish Digital newsletter, then you can sign up at: remember that we also want to hear from you. The next edition, IED8, will be asking the question “How creative can we get?”If you want to add your voice to this - asking questions or giving suggestions - then let us know before 15 January 2014.

To all our readers worldwide – we hope you enjoy this edition – use it, share it, tell us what you think … and remember to send us your ideas and comments. We’ll publish them – if you allow us – on our new website:

Christina Phelps

English Programmes Manager,

British Council Portugal

Editorial

Most teachers in most countries know that there is something wrong with the way that education is organised. The need to challenge the educational paradigm has never been greater and teachers can often be heard expressing ways in which this might be done. But is anyone listening? Do politicians, administrators and academics actually understand the issues at all? Perhaps we need to raise our voices even more to be heard against the background babble of bubble economics and social control.

In this issue of IED we hear from a wide variety of voices who nevertheless maintain a common theme: the need to change the way we teach. This can be expressed through an examination of structure and theory or it might be through practical methodology in the classroom and stimulating student focussed activity. In this edition we look at designing lessons to take the form of a narrative, examine state of course book content, look at some radical ideas from a Portuguese school, examine a view of holistic teaching, indulge in some poetry in the classroom, think about a new approach to classroom management and lesson planning, consider heightening intercultural awareness in the classroom and ask if it is time for teachers to be revolting.

We hope that you come away from this edition replete with new ideas and brimming over with enthusiasm. We also hope that this enthusiasm will encourage you to contribute to the next or forthcoming editions of IED, or simply to respond to what you have read here. Contact us on

Fitch O'Connell

Editor

Multi Story: Happy Ever Afters with Narrative

Here’s a challenge: can you re-plan your Young Learner (YL) classes to take advantage of narrative structures that children know and love? Can you, in other words, consciously plan lessons with beginning, middle, and end, and with an engaging problem that needs active resolution, rather than serial exercise completion? Perhaps you’re not clear on the distinction? Then, read on! Maybe a story will help reveal all...

Once Upon a Time...

...in a land far, far away (if Madrid is far away), some novice YL-teaching professionals began a new training course – one designed to help them become skilled practitioners in the high arts of teaching 7-14 year olds. Developed by a cabal of mysterious gurus, knowledgeable in the learning ways of children, the course included such vital techniques as classroom management, the preparation of appropriate materials, and reward systems that would – apparently – induce magical degrees of control over classes. Moreover, these were no bizarre Pied Piper dreams, but were grounded in the writings of wise ones, ancients with wizardly-sounding names, like Vygotsky, Bruner, Piaget, and Dewey. Together, their tomes formed a background of consensual approaches towards enhancing the YL teaching-learning process. Our trainees toiled and tormented day and night to combine these elements into workable, personalised concoctions; formulated these into lesson plans; and tested them in teaching practice, as the mysterious gurus observed, nodding sagely at new-found skills, or shaking heads, disappointed by sometime inability to facilitate predicted learning outcomes.

However, as in all good narrative constructions, a particular problem arose time and again for our heroes – one that was a prime cause in such head-shaking. In submitting their lesson planning forms, trainees had to fill in a box labelled ‘Context’, and, for those inexperienced in the high arts, this was befuddling. Many wrote ‘animals’ or ‘sports’ or ‘hobbies’, confident that these topics would realise the approbation of observers. Oh, woe to the uninitiated! For a topic is not a context, and the gurus foresaw that while well-chosen topics might pique childish interest, they would not hypnotically sustain engagement through prolonged classroom activity. Several course participants suffered considerable consternation, lest their inability to distinguish their topic from their context caused them to fail in their quest to master all they surveyed (in Classroom 28). Two, whom we shall call Juan and Louise – for no other reason than that these are genuine names – decided to consult a guru over this problem, because while occasionally obscure in explanation, the tutors were at least paid to answer questions. In response, a wise sage with straggly, whitening beard posed these questions:

‘Have you ever considered you could keep your class’s attention for the whole lesson by taking what they like doing in their free time and adapting it? That they might then participate, practise, and learn without consciously doing so? Yes, we all use ‘games’ and ‘technology’ in lessons because ‘kids like it’, but could your whole lesson become a narrative? Could it have a beginning, middle, and end, and an engaging challenge that learners are intrinsically motivated to complete? Their favourite stories have these elements, so do their films and TV programmes, and so do their games. What does that tell you...?’

In true narrative style, he then tasked them with Five Labours, so they would achieve self-realisation in the completion. Each one led Juan and Louise closer to the wisdom of context. Now, can you predict these Labours?

Labour One: Read a Report Card

Labour One was simple enough, requiring only that our heroes read an anonymous end-of-term report card, for a YL uniformly graded ‘Very Good’, excepting ‘Excellent’ in ‘Completion of Set Tasks’. It read:

‘X is now a lot more comfortable in her English class and is not as shy as last term. She shows interest in all areas... and now also enjoys participating in group activities. She works very carefully and at her own pace when doing exercises in her books. It’s almost as if she invents a little story with every activity she does, and it’s a pleasure to see her so very proud of her completed tasks...’

Identifying key words here (e.g. comfortable, interest, enjoys participating, and works very carefully), “We may conclude,” opined Louise, “that this ‘invention of stories’ has really helped X engage with English tasks.” Juan nodded in agreement, though still slightly baffled as to how gap-fills in coursebooks could become essential to narratives in lesson planning. White-beard therefore directed them to read essential child-related learning scripture, which the gurus had collectively distilled into a spell-binding document called ‘The Handout’. What do you think it said?

Labour Two: Consultation of the Spell-binding Handout

“Look,” said Juan to Louise, “this Piaget fellow prioritised the child’s active role in learning, stressing that mental activity allows them to construct their own understandings and so make sense of the world. That’s not dissimilar from this other dude, Vygotsky, who emphasised that when they jointly solve problems, children’s social interaction assists learning, which takes place in something called the ‘Zone of Proximal Development’ – whatever that is!”

“I’ve already searched the internet,” replied Louise, “and this ‘handout’ thing is really very basic: there’s tons more about Vygotsky’s ZPD and these other concepts even on Wikipedia...”

“I don’t have the time!” flustered Juan, “I’ve got a lesson plan to write for an assessed observation! Just tell me what you learned about contextualisation.”

“Well,” soothed Louise, “Bruner emphasised that the process of learning is as important for children as the product. He believed that, for kids, learning must have purpose to make it meaningful, must take place in contexts that have familiar formats, and that experiencing success is vital. Someone needs to lead them, but if learning is scaffolded, anything can be taught to any child: but only if presented in a way that is accessible.”

“Wow,” cooed Juan, “that sounds like this Dewey guy too! He reckoned learning is easier when related to prior experiences – and it’s a social, interactive process. Seems like loads of opinions match. Dewey also said teachers should be members of the community, while delivery of knowledge should be balanced with the interests of the learner. Problem is, I’m beginning to wonder what little kids’ real interests are...”

Trudging back to Mr. White-Beard, their reward was a more complete definition of context in language learning:

‘Language used in environments which contain plentiful clues to its meaning are described as context-embedded... Decontextualized or context-reduced language use, on the other hand, occurs when there is little in the immediate environment, other than the language itself, which helps learners derive meaning from the language being used.’

What did he suggest next?

Labour Three: Interviewing Children

Labour Three involved asking kids directly about their free time preferences: teaching vastly different age groups and levels, it wasn’t surprising to hear Juan and Louise get diverse answers. Yet, somehow, similarities kept popping up. Whether in listening to or reading stories; watching films or TV programmes; playing ‘dress-up’ or ‘make-believe’; narrative structure was intrinsic, as was problem resolution.

“Cool!” reflected Juan, a keen gamer. “It’s like computer games nowadays. This game designer Raph Koster says ‘Never start an interaction with no CONTEXT’ – scene-setting and characterisations. Games must have winnable challenges designed to suck you in: mastering one ‘level’ brings just you to another one. These challenges can be ‘hard fun’, but they’re kind of making players central in sequential narratives too.”

“Ooh, fancy words!” teased Louise. “But I reckon if we put activities like these in our lessons, offering the kids challenges or asking for their help in resolving problems we have, then our lessons will be far more engaging!”

“Too true!” enthused Juan, “But lesson planning always included this ‘creating interest in the topic’ thing. We have to really establish a need for help, so we can tap into their desire to gain adult approval. It’s motivating because that approval is rewarding, yes, but what’s even more intrinsically motivating is the desire to take part in the activities themselves. They won’t even realise when they’re participating that they’re learning too!”

With that, Juan went away and wrote his assessed lesson plan. How do you think he did?

Labour Four: Reviewing Lesson Plans

Well, despite an enthusiastic initial response from his 12-13 year olds, half-way through he was confronted with heavily sighing learners and a tutor’s shaking head. Dispirited, Juan went for feedback with white-beard.

During feedback, Juan realised he had begun his lesson very well, asking his class to imagine they were graphic artists for designing new superheroes for a famous comic. Unfortunately, the narrative hadn’t been sustained, and, at one point, he tried to incorporate some coursebook work into the lesson. Having created tremendous energy and enthusiasm among the group with an engaging task, he rarely referred to it again, and when he asked the class to ‘turn to page 42’... they felt the context was a trick: just another coursebook-based lesson, cloaked in a lie. Though far from disastrous, familiar signs of ennui and sloth had crept into learner responses, and disruptions began: the cycle of boredom, misbehaviour, and punishment returned.

Sagely, the tutor repeated a quote he had once heard wizardly Jeremy Harmer use, struck by its current relevance:

“...endings aren’t just important to narrative. They matter because our brains pay them disproportionate attention. Medical researchers report that a long painful experience that ends with some comfort is remembered as being much better than a short more comfortable one that ends with pain...”[i][iii]

How could Juan sustain his narrative thrust for a whole lesson?

Labour Five: Group Planning

Our guru’s solution was two-fold: first, he provided some sample lesson plans for review; second, he gave Juan a ‘pre-lesson consultation’ before his next observation, where ideas were brainstormed and honed.

However, Juan, being cast as super-smart narrative hero, went one step beyond. Calling Louise and the rest of their group together, they collectively generated some usable classroom narratives – lesson plans where target language fitted naturally into various contexts. Used poster-sized paper allowed the production of lesson procedures as large illustrated narratives, helping them to visualise and commit the plans to memory. Doing this collectively meant they shared their expertise and knowledge – the organisational strengths of some and the creativity of others – just as in folkloric tales where collective spirit finally prevails over evil.

And so...?

They All Lived Happy Ever After...

Or at least, they all passed the course. Juan’s last observation was excellent, graded ‘Strong Pass’: he contextualised a narrative of the class as trainee spies (a ‘Junior Bureau of Investigation’ for 11-12 year olds, using JBI letterheaded paper and calling them ‘Agent Ines’ or ‘Agent David’ throughout the lesson). This was a clever device to introduce Present Continuous via dictagloss: first, trainee agents heard and copied a spy’s recording of his trailing a suspect; but when he was suddenly injured, the trainees were rapidly advanced, writing and sharing their own reports; Director Juan, meanwhile, saying, “Oh, by the way, to do that you’ll need this language...” At lesson’s end, all trainees were promoted to full Agent, having successfully listened, written, and orally reported using a new structure.

Louise did equally well, getting her observed 7 year olds to write animal descriptions matching pictures: visiting Madrid Zoo the previous day and being gifted some information cards by a keeper, a fierce storm had soaked and ripped up the modelled cards; only the class’s help writing replacements would assuage the keeper’s wrath.

Gurus nodded approvingly as aims were achieved all round; newly-qualified trainees rejoiced; and their students were happiest of all.

The End.

What Really Happened?

There are two sides to every story, so it’s only fair to provide the truth. The idea of using narrative contextualisation in YL lesson planning developed while assisting teachers on a real British Council training programme. The British Council/Trinity College TYLEC (Teaching Young Learners Extension Certificate) was piloted in Madrid in 2009. It has since been exported to East Asia, South America, and Europe (including Portugal), but is exclusive to British Council Teaching Centres. While Juan and Louise are real people, and they had similar lesson experiences, their characterisations are for narrative drive only: I beg their forgiveness for misappropriating their names! The excellent lesson ideas were, however, theirs. You can see video interviews with them, the real handout, and much more, on my Prezi called ‘Multi-Story’. Thank you for reading!

Martin Goosey

Martin's article is based on a presentation he gave at the IATEFL Conference in Liverpool in 2013.

Is it time for teachers to be revolting?

Recently, the guru of the modern movement to change education globally to fit the new realities of the Internet and digital world,Sir Ken Robinson, spoke for the third time at a Ted conference. Again he was inspiring, in his delivery and content. He spoke what appears, to the vast majority of educators’ perfect sense. Yet we know his logical, sensible and realistic words will go ‘Smack’ against the political wall were policy will be decided.