Education Needs More Explosions and Schizo The Masked Armadillo
The process of learning Japanese has become more of an icicle drop rolling down the side of the house then the raging torrent of watery fury that I originally thought it would be. At the outset the want to learn a new language was a powerful one. I was quite excited to be feeding my mind some tasty new food and was secure in my ability to devour such morsels quickly, digest and plow another batch in there as if they were hot dogs and I was Takeru Kobayashi. I figured I’d breeze through the initial lessons, cram a bulk into the final week and the rest I’d pick up on the plane. Once I touched down in Nagoya I would dazzle and amaze with my fluency. The locals would toss coins in my hat as I danced and sang to them Summer of ’69 in their native tongue. Well, perhaps I didn’t believe that acquiring a firm grasp on a new dialect would so simple but I did believe I would be motoring at speeds a touch above a fat guy on a unicycle. Within the last three weeks I have managed to walk up to the 90 lessons stone and chip away three little pebbles and that third pebble is only a half. That’s right, I have only managed to make it to lesson 3 and I only issue myself half points for that one as the first 10 minutes is reviewing lessons 1 and 2. My original plan was simple enough. I would listen to the lesson twice before going to sleep and wake up to review one more time before moving on. I never thought that I would be able to build an entire bridge but figured I could manage enough stepping stones here and there to get me across the pond. The good part about only being three stones in as that, if it rains, I am not that far from shore should the water levels rise.
The primary problem is maintaining interest. For starters, the recording is not of the greatest sound quality. The narrator sounds like he is a cyborg and the two Japanese speakers sound as though they are underwater. I have to wonder if I should be gargling to be able to form the correct pronunciations. In addition to this, the delivery of the language is done in such a bland and monotonous way that it could put a bullfrog to sleep (because bullfrogs are the only animals that never sleep. Understand? Man, I have to paint pictures for you people!). I seriously cannot fathom speaking in this single toned fashion to the Japanese. I don’t want them to be insulted should I be butchering their language and, most of all, I don’t want them to think I am a space alien from the planet Zurgalia here to study their flora and fauna and maybe take in a little Kabuki before the mothership beams me back up so I can reveal my findings to King Zoosalblath. Honestly, these two digital instructors of mine are dryer then the Sahara, the Gobi and Estelle Getty combined.
I suggest that the good folks who create these language lessons try to up the tempo a touch. Now, please be careful to not alter the recording speed. This will only make matters worse and transform you native speakers into Alvin and the Chipmunks. You just have to ask your speakers to accentuate the words as though they were speaking to somebody in a more casual setting then a recording booth. Also, lightly pepper your lessons with explosions. For a listener and learner like myself the sudden burst of a live hand grenade or the booming impact of an AGM-84 Harpoon Missile would dissuade any attempts at dozing off in mid lesson. Heck, even toss in a few M-80s in there or the deafening rapid fire shots of a Gatling gun. Should you wish your recording sessions to be less violent then you can supplement the above with a cacophony of gridlock. The loud blasts of car horns pressed by angry drivers would do fine. While out in the field, should you come across any Japanese road rage, record that as well and incorporate it into the lesson. People new to the language need to know more then “hello” and “goodbye”. Picking up a few curse words for spice would be a great resource for the inevitable bar fight.
These robotic droning language instructors have taught me a valuable lesson in their own monosyllabic way. Yes, I have learned how not to teach. I cannot be boring and I vow to make an earnest attempt to be consistently exciting to the kids I teach. Now, I have been informed that I am not able to bring explosives into a classroom full of 4 year olds. Damn Explovies Control Law. Although this quashes my plans for Land Mine Day, I have other means of maintaining the interest of the children.
1) The Whirl-o-meter: A new spot in the room will be rigged up weekly to a hidden mechanism of kazoos, bagpipes and mechanical rotation devices. When the unsuspecting child steps onto the spot it ignites an audio/visual frenzy of excitement which sends the blackboard and selected desks into a whirlpool of fun!
2) Seeking Student, Hidden Tiger Day: Is it in the desk? Maybe it is in the closet. Who knows? The fun is in the finding!
3) It’s Raining Canada Word Game: That’s right, kids, the game you have all been waiting for since the decline of Hungry, Hungry Hippos! Each day a new word will be drawn from the Blender of Wonders. When this word is spoken a downpour of all things Canadian will plummet from the ceiling above like wonderful gifts from the Canuck Gods! Maple Syrup, zippers, hockey pucks, Habitant Pea Soup, snowshoes, Ed the Sock, SCTV cast members and even Celin Dion herself may topple out of our papier-mâché piñata made in the likeness of Wayne Gretzky’s head. The only way to know for sure is to keep on trying. Here’s a clue for Day 1. The word rhymes with pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.
4) The No Vowel Power Hour: n mst rfrn frm sng vwls fr n hr. whvr wns gts t rd n th mystry mchn!
5) Write An American Sitcom Week: Leave your smiles and brains at the door because it’s time to act like the rich and famous Hollywood writers act! The class will choose from popular themes like: Troubled Family With One Dumb Kid And Nosey Neighbors, Washed Up Professional Runs Some Establishment For Deadbeats and Losers, Opposite Roommates, My Two ______________s and Two People Who Like Each Other But Spend Four Seasons Trying To Hide That Love To Reveal It During Sweeps Week When They Should Have Just Shut Up And Fucked Three Years Ago! Coffee and cigarettes will be provided.
6) The Thunderdome: Two lucky kids will get to enter the Thunderdome every Friday to battle for fabulous prizes!
7) Contacting The Dead Snacktime: Have you ever wanted to contact Carl Sagan while slurping up blueberry sludge from a juicebox? Have your own tea with Mussolini? How about sharing a Twinkie with Liberace or a Fruit Roll-up with Lady Di? Want to trade snack food recipes with Lee Harvey Oswald? Who hasn’t?!? Now the impossible is possible. Don’t forget to get your Ouija Board from your knapsack and you too can have your own snacktime pal from the netherworld. I’ll be summoning Lou Costello. Who will you call forth?
And let us not forget our mascot. Every good team deserves a mascot. The Company has their own, yes, but I cannot quite figure out what they are? Are they dogs? Crossbreeds of kangaroos and kittens? I think these animals may cause confusion in my students and could induce riots and mass hysteria. Our mascot will be the always unpredictable Schizo The Masked Armadillo! Sometimes he thinks he’s an otter and sometimes he thinks he’s Castro. You never know! Totting jellybeans and the Book of Mormon, Schizo is always a tuba blow away.
Comedic ramblings aside, I am not a trained teacher. This is no a secret. My background is in journalism and film production. Right now I’m just a guy nearing 30 at a crossroads. Somebody putting a career just can’t find a spark to ignite it on the backburner and set out to experience something totally different. Something life changing. Maybe I can ease some financial debt. Maybe I can get into the daily motions and turn out a screenplay. Maybe I can strap myself down and learn that new language. And maybe, along the way, I can discover new layers underneath my skin will simultaneously helping others unearth their own.
From talking with other ESL teachers and visiting various web forums I have discovered that I am far from the only fish in the ESL sea without proper training. I have been told that the bulk of people teaching English as a second language are there for the travel experience. Fully trained teachers are a minority. It certainly is a plus to be paid to discover new countries and cultures. I agree wholeheartedly. Although I do not hide my desire to want to travel and this opportunity is providing me with a launching pad, I honestly do want to be a good teacher for the kids I work with. My slight fear of being in a classroom of kids, all of them gazing up at me, waiting, stems not from the kids themselves but mainly from the fact that I am the person in charge and, somehow, I have to impart knowledge into those budding little minds. I eat potato chip crumbs off my stomach while watching Laverne & Shirley reruns. How am I qualified to teach anybody anything?
Despite my natural habitat, I have worked with kids in the past and feel that I am not such a terrible teacher. True, I am no Dr. Spock but I am also not the person who snaps on their kid and is flung into seemingly epileptic fits of rage in the candy section of the Bulk Barn. I have realize from my few experiences in child education that the key to getting through to them is to do so in a fun manor while still being the oldest person in the room. If there is anyone out there who taught me how to properly instruct kids it was Mr. Bill Cosby. Coz never spoke down to kids and, in many ways, treated them like adults. If I can pull off some Cosby in a room full of hyper active kids, mix in a bit of my own wacky sense of humor and add a dose of seriousness to the proceedings I think that I could honestly teach these kids something useful but, also, have them walking away thinking: “Man, that dude’s just as nuts as we are”.
