There is a wonderful post which I really recommend reading: “Can you have a normal life and work in ELT” on the TEFLGEEK Blog. I really identify with that post!

But I just had to comment on the following statement from the post:

“But I can think of absolutely no situation within my own teaching experience, that could possibly be classified as an emergency”.

So here are a few ELT emergencies, beginning with the ones least causing palpitations:

First of all, as someone still fairly new to the world of “for profit” schools (I’ve recently begun teaching my second course at a private language school) I’m amazed as to how everything is treated as an emergency. When a client squawks  all able bodied hands should report for duty at once:

* I peek at my phone during the break at the high school. Four (!!) unanswered calls from the private school. I call them back. A student contested his grade, they need me to come over right away. Fortunately, I have  a clever husband who said ” I bet they could scan and email the exam to you”. He was right, they could and did, when I knew to ask.

* A student mailed me a query through the private school’s website less than two hours before the lesson (begins at five p.m). I only saw the query after the lesson. Confident that I had discussed the issue with the student personally during the lesson I did not answer the letter. At eight a.m the very next morning (!!!) there was a letter from the private school intended to draw my attention to the fact that there was an unanswered letter to a student in my inbox!

However, lets return to those ELT emergencies that involve running, physically.

National Matriculation day (our leaving exams are called “Bagrut Exams”) is often a source of drama at high-schools round the country. Being a special ed. teacher adds more combustible pieces to the puzzle, but doesn’t make my situation seem like an exception to the rule:

* Mad dashes down long corridors and up/down steps to get to the photocopying machine when:
a) not enough exam papers were sent

b) the envelope containing the special section for the students with hearing problems got sent to the wrong room by mistake and no-one knows which room (more running, photocopying of master copy if necessary)

c) one of my students who has emotional issues (my students arrive early on exam days as they don’t have transportation for exactly when they need it in the afternnoons) tore his watch strap while horsing around with another boy and threw a temper tantrum, screaming and banging on walls of classrooms where exams where taking place. More running to get available staff over to remove him from the testing area and help him calm down. Quicker than trying to get people on the cell phone because they are probably on the phone!

True, none of these emergencies required a police escort, as described in the blog post. Though my husband would have appreciated one the day  he had to make a special trip to the high-school because I had left the candies we give out on exam day at home!

I use the word “Continuous” in the most literal sense.

As a proud member of a wonderful PLN I am exposed to fascinating blog posts on a regular, very frequent basis. Despite these posts being about an incredibly diverse range of topics, they all have one element in common.

Every single post is a call for me to reflect.

A call to reflect on what I’m doing, what I did and what I would like to be doing. To reflect on what the students did and what that tells me about where I stand with them. Even to reflect on how one adapts our teaching to our physical space (Thanks to Tyson Seburnt).

I come home from school every day and turn on the computer to see what my PLN is up to. Even with resolutions that I really do stick to regarding seriously limiting the number of recommended posts I read a week, all it takes is one post and I’m off to “reflect -o-land”. I mean, just listen to a sentence from this week’s trigger post, by Kevin Stein:

“Take a personal time-out: as teachers, we want to fix perceived problems as soon as possible.  But perceived problems might not be actual problems…”

Stein has certainly struck a chord with me regarding rushing in too quickly to resolve things in class. A “contol issue”, I would say.

Reflection takes time, time that isn’t built into my daily life. Many teachers I work with work many hours, juggle work and family. Just like I do. Some even study something. Once upon a time I used to have proffesional development, like they do, only over the holidays. Now the time I need to think about what I am exposed to causes me to go to the cupboard to get more detergent and not to remember why I went there. To let the laundry pile up while I’m corresponding with the author of the blog. To feel even more impatient with teachers talking about a stupid reality TV show when we could be discussing this interesting topic.

Although some say time is elastic, I have not found it to be so. It is always a trade off. On different days the trade off is different, that is all. Today the need to reflect about what I’m feeling has caused me to sit and write this blog post, instead of taking a power walk. Which is the worst sin of all.

I seeked out this PLN and these posts becuase they answered a need I have. I do not have anywhere else to discuss these issues. In my PLN. being a nerd for wanting to do so is not considered a negative thing. I love that.

But everything comes with a price.

Last night we had a Parent – Teacher Night for the parents of the new 10th graders. Their children were not invited. The idea is for the parents to have an opportunity to meet and chat with all the teachers that teach their children before the official Parents Night , that fateful evening when grades, behavior and other weighty issues are discussed.

One of the parents came with her son in 7th grade, as her interpreter. She doesn’t speak any of the languages known by any of the staff members.

It’s a tricky situation. I made a point of speaking directly to the mother, making eye contact with her, then waiting for the son to translate. I’m well aware that one is supposed to engage with the person, not the imterpreter. However, in this case, the interpreter wasn’t a paid proffesional, but a child. I didn’t really engage with the son at all. I think that may have been respectful of the mother but I’m not sure about the son.. He was obviously well practiced playing this role. He was very patient too.

I tried hard to focus on the good things I was saying about her truly  brilliant child and not be judgemental. I admit that it is difficult to ignore the fact that the parent has been in the country for approximately 10 years and still doesn’t speak a word of the language. I guess that just highlights how talented her child is, to reach such academic achievements. I know her life is very difficult and there probably haven’t been many opportunities.

Nonetheless, it is an awkward situation.

This topic reminds me why I HAVE TO blog.

I think about feedback every time I check a test or a homework task. Turns out I’d better be thinking about it – according to the article I just read there are eight things that can happen when we give a student feedback and six of them are bad! (Feedback, Part of a System, by Dylan William). With that “encouraging” statement I embarked on a thorough journey through the Educational  Leadership Magazine (published  by ASCD) devoted to the topic of feedback.

Since there is no non-virtual framework available for me to discuss the issues that I find confusing, here I am!

Grant Wiggins warns against giving advice instead of feedback. In fact, he makes a strong case why giving advice instead of feedback is inneffective. Advice includes value judgements (Seven Keys to Effective Feedback). I don’t “get” it.  I’m having trouble differentiating between the two.

I’ve always been told to phrase comments so that they would be helpful and the students would understand what they need to do to improve the quality of their work. Now that seems to be labeled as advice.Wiggins says this is not worth much if not preceeded by descriptive feedback. First the student needs information regarding the effects of the action in relation to the goal. From what I understand, instead of saying ” next time remember to include a name of a place if the question word was where“,  I should say ” points were lost because the question word “where” was ignored. Is that what he means? I’m not sure. It doesn’t sound more helpful to me.

John Hattie (Know Thy Impact) says that students value feedback that helps them know where they are supposed to go.  All the articles in the magazine stress that feedback won’t be effective without clarifying goals. I understand that. However, the main goal of my students at the high-school and the hearing adults I teach comes through loud and clear from every possible angle: my job as a teacher is to help the students get the highest possible grades on their final exams (reading comprehension). Isn’t giving advice on how to avoid those errors the next time the kind of information the students expect to receive?

By the way, there is also an article dealing with the value of differentiating between errors and mistakes, by Fisher and Fry (Making TIME for Feedback)    . While I clearly understand the distinction, the way this distinction can be applied to comments on  reading comprehension tasks is beyond me. But that I’ll leave for another time.

Any advice on how not to give advice?

Brad Patterson posted the following question on his blog:

“Physicians have an oath, as do lawyers and politicians.  Many organizations have mottos. What about teachers?”

Now I really do agree with all the inspiring things people have been writing in the comment section of his post.

Honestly.

In fact that’s the reason I’m writing this comment on my own blog – there is such an upbeat, motivating feeling there that I don’t want to influence the mood…

However, I believe that whatever a teacher chooses for the first part of the oath, the second part should be as follows:

I hereby solemnly swear to remember that teaching / learning is a “two way street”. I will memorize the words of the poet Shel Silverstein who said “This bridge will only take you only halfway there”. I won’t forget that what I do in the classroom is not the sole factor influencing the students’ learning process. I promise to get up every morning and start the whole thing again so that I can say at the end of the day – I’m proud of me. I did my best.