Journalism Student Interviews Learner
Among obvious social concerns like disease, poverty, violence, and drugs -- there is one problem that often goes unaddressed -- low levels of literacy. Education is essential to the quality of life in human beings. So how does an adult get through twelve years of school without being able to read a street sign?
I had the pleasure of interviewing an adult learner who has become a regular at Turning Pages over the past 3 1/2 years. Assumptions and percentages can only explain so much, so I went straight to the source to find out where he thought his educational problems came from. "When I was young, school didn't interest me. I was making money with my hands, so my brain didn't matter as much," he tells me. The source of immediate income for this learner came from his physical abilities, so it made sense to blow off intellectual goals, which could only provide monetary gain later in life. He ended up dropping out of school to lay bricks, paint, and work in construction. It was only when he was diagnosed with diabetes that he realized how unreliable his skills really were. His disease was so severe that he almost lost his legs and had to retire from the work he had spent his entire life doing. Suddenly, he had nothing but free time on his hands, and nothing to do with it. The only thing that didn't require literacy skills was television, which quickly lost his interest.
So he started coming to Turning Pages to finally learn how to read -- one of the "best things he has ever done with his life." He now enjoys his newly gained independence. He is able to go to restaurants, take road trips, and go to the doctor's office without having to ask others for help. The most simple things that we take for granted every day require the ability to read and comprehend. "I am more confident in myself, and I am able to be somebody my kids can look up to." I couldn't help but smile as I shook hands with this man and told him how nice it was to hear his story. His positive attitude about life and education surprised and impressed me. He doesn't complain. He doesn't make excuses or feel ashamed. He is proud of his new literacy skills; skills that cannot be taken from him. As he puts it, "The more I learn, the better I feel." It makes me happy to know there is a center in my community for people who are excited about learning. Turning Pages is a place that strives to give opportunity to those who would love to improve their lives, but were never given the chance.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Guest Blog: Marie Snider, English as a New Language Tutor
Experiences in ESL/EFL teaching, by Marie Snider
Entry One: The Importance of teacher-student Rapport in an ESL classroom
Learning a new language, especially when it is important in your life, is sometimes a very daunting and often frustrating experience. Our ESL learners at Turning Pages live in a country where English is the language spoken by the majority of people, and because of this, they feel more of a sense of urgency and a direct need to learn English. Turning Pages helps to fulfill that need while also easing the stress on students who may sometimes feel like outsiders in a very large and intimidating country.
Teaching ESL is a multi-faceted undertaking in which, to the teacher, actual teaching is one of the smaller parts to the teacher/student relationship. That's not to say, that at any point the student is learning nothing, what I mean is proper English learning is often disguised by friendly conversation, sharing anecdotes, or discussing one's favorite TV show. I've had an entire one hour lesson stem from the question "Do you know the song lyric, 'take me on, take on me'? What does that mean?" Where did that take us? To an hour long lesson on phrasal verbs with a small emphasis on deciphering song lyrics! Without a strong rapport and understanding of each other's cultures and personalities, teacher-student relationships would suffer numerous blocks with which good questions like the one before would not exist!
Our ESL students at Turning Pages suffer from a specific fear that is at times quite difficult to break through. Not only do they have low confidence because of their language barrier, but they also live in angst over the possibility of losing a job or even their family because of the United States' tough immigration laws. It's up to the teacher to ease the student's fear, therein making them comfortable with themselves and their situation, if only for 90 minutes a week. Once a person lets down their barriers, they are much more likely to take more from the lessons, and of course enjoy language learning more. I've had students, who never really want to discuss their private lives, which is fine; having a rapport with someone doesn't necessarily mean knowing everything about their family and private life. It means that they feel free to ask any question and not embarrassed to make any mistake.
Our job at Turning Pages is to teach ESL as a way to spread literacy (although most of our ESL leaners are at least partly literate in their native language). But a student can learn English whilst talking about anything and/or listening to anything, the difference comes in whether or not the topic is important to their life or close to their heart, and a healthy rapport will always make that difference.
Entry One: The Importance of teacher-student Rapport in an ESL classroom
Learning a new language, especially when it is important in your life, is sometimes a very daunting and often frustrating experience. Our ESL learners at Turning Pages live in a country where English is the language spoken by the majority of people, and because of this, they feel more of a sense of urgency and a direct need to learn English. Turning Pages helps to fulfill that need while also easing the stress on students who may sometimes feel like outsiders in a very large and intimidating country.
Teaching ESL is a multi-faceted undertaking in which, to the teacher, actual teaching is one of the smaller parts to the teacher/student relationship. That's not to say, that at any point the student is learning nothing, what I mean is proper English learning is often disguised by friendly conversation, sharing anecdotes, or discussing one's favorite TV show. I've had an entire one hour lesson stem from the question "Do you know the song lyric, 'take me on, take on me'? What does that mean?" Where did that take us? To an hour long lesson on phrasal verbs with a small emphasis on deciphering song lyrics! Without a strong rapport and understanding of each other's cultures and personalities, teacher-student relationships would suffer numerous blocks with which good questions like the one before would not exist!
Our ESL students at Turning Pages suffer from a specific fear that is at times quite difficult to break through. Not only do they have low confidence because of their language barrier, but they also live in angst over the possibility of losing a job or even their family because of the United States' tough immigration laws. It's up to the teacher to ease the student's fear, therein making them comfortable with themselves and their situation, if only for 90 minutes a week. Once a person lets down their barriers, they are much more likely to take more from the lessons, and of course enjoy language learning more. I've had students, who never really want to discuss their private lives, which is fine; having a rapport with someone doesn't necessarily mean knowing everything about their family and private life. It means that they feel free to ask any question and not embarrassed to make any mistake.
Our job at Turning Pages is to teach ESL as a way to spread literacy (although most of our ESL leaners are at least partly literate in their native language). But a student can learn English whilst talking about anything and/or listening to anything, the difference comes in whether or not the topic is important to their life or close to their heart, and a healthy rapport will always make that difference.
Monday, August 2, 2010
The man made eye contact with me in the rear view mirror. His eyes were hazel, opened wide in surprise, and most alarmingly, not on the road, which overflowed with taxis and bus lanes, bums and bicycles. I knew that I should have confidence in this seasoned New York driver to safely pilot his yellow Toyota Sienna taxicab, I just wished he'd watch the road. He had just asked me where I worked, and I'd told him that I'm the volunteer coordinator at an adult literacy organization.
"Literacy?" he asked. "As in, able to read?" He verified my meaning or his hearing, or both.
"Yes, adult literacy."
"You are telling me," he said in accented but fluid English, "that here, in the greatest country in the - the - the UNIVERSE," he said with humor that was both teasing and affectionate, "there are people older than 8, 9 years old, who cannot read?"
"Yes, that's right."
His eyes opened wider. I wondered if his ocular muscles would rupture as they strained to convey his shock.
"Well, they must be immigrants," he said. His eyes settled back into their sockets once this reasonable explanation had occurred to him. We glided up Park Avenue.
"Well, some are," I told him. "But some are Americans." I explained that it is my job to recruit and train volunteers to be reading tutors.
"I came to this country 13, almost 14 years ago," he said. His taxicab operator's license, posted on the headrest of his seat, indicated his eastern European origin. "I attended the classes for English as a Second Language two, three times a week. I didn't learn much. And then I met with the girl, the English tutor, one-on-one, and that is when I learned English. She was very helpful. You find people like her, who help?"
"Yes, I recruit the volunteers. Some of our clients can read and write and just want to learn English," I told him. "But some can only read a little, and want to learn. Many adults in South Carolina cannot read well. Many adults in the whole country."
"In New York? Not in New York!!" He did the shocked, eye-popping, rearview mirror face again, while the cab zoomed around a corner. "Not even in Harlem, or the Bronx, are there adults who cannot read," he asserted. But there was a question in his tone. He clearly had a love and patriotism for the United States, and especially for New York.
"In New York it's about 15, maybe 20% of adults who can't read well," I said. "It's a lot worse in the South."
"And how is it that so many adults cannot read? Did they not go to school, or...?" We merged onto FDR Drive. The East River was greenish gray in the morning light.
"Many reasons," I said. "Some people have learning disabilities or dyslexia. Some people live in rural farming areas and school was very far away, or they had to help work on the farm to support the family. Some people, their father died or something and they had to drop out of school and go to work."
He was smart and open-minded; once again I could see the plausible explanations crystallizing in his mind.
"But what do they do? How can a person who can't read, have any kind of job? Maybe cleaning, or dishwashing..." The full impact of literacy was dawning on him. "They can't read the newspaper or contracts, or forms at the doctor's office... And what about their children?"
"It's better for the whole community when its residents are literate," I said. "Companies don't want to start up in a place where there are under-educated employees. Children are more likely to learn to read if their parents can read." I recited my elevator speech, watching in his face as his understanding rapidly eclipsed the shock.
"Wow. So there is less tax dollars, and - and - less money for schools, and - " he said as we crossed over the Long Island Expressway bridge. He was looking for the EZ Pass toll lane, and I was looking at New York, still unfolding before my eyes. Throughout the trip I was constantly amazed that yes, New York is really that crowded. And from the vantage point of the bridge, I could see where a percentage of them lived: rows and rows of brick buildings laid out like child's blocks as far as I could see...
"So you help them learn reading so they can get better jobs? And then it is better for the whole community. Not just the individual person."
"Exactly," I replied. "It's better for everyone when adults are able to read." Now he had made the key logical leap that sometimes policy-makers get hung up on. We help people on an individual basis, one by one, but with an eye to the community as a whole. And it works - our number one source of new clients is word-of-mouth.
"So you are doing this work to improve the whole town of Columbia, South Carolina." he said. Yes!
After a weekend of flitting around New York in the colorful, rollicking, almost magical subway (cram in, hang on, and pop out at your destination!), I experienced it differently in the cab. (The above-ground version of cram in, hang on!) As I got out of the cab at LaGuardia airport and waved goodbye to our newest Friend of Literacy, I felt that we had both truly learned something about our world.
"Literacy?" he asked. "As in, able to read?" He verified my meaning or his hearing, or both.
"Yes, adult literacy."
"You are telling me," he said in accented but fluid English, "that here, in the greatest country in the - the - the UNIVERSE," he said with humor that was both teasing and affectionate, "there are people older than 8, 9 years old, who cannot read?"
"Yes, that's right."
His eyes opened wider. I wondered if his ocular muscles would rupture as they strained to convey his shock.
"Well, they must be immigrants," he said. His eyes settled back into their sockets once this reasonable explanation had occurred to him. We glided up Park Avenue.
"Well, some are," I told him. "But some are Americans." I explained that it is my job to recruit and train volunteers to be reading tutors.
"I came to this country 13, almost 14 years ago," he said. His taxicab operator's license, posted on the headrest of his seat, indicated his eastern European origin. "I attended the classes for English as a Second Language two, three times a week. I didn't learn much. And then I met with the girl, the English tutor, one-on-one, and that is when I learned English. She was very helpful. You find people like her, who help?"
"Yes, I recruit the volunteers. Some of our clients can read and write and just want to learn English," I told him. "But some can only read a little, and want to learn. Many adults in South Carolina cannot read well. Many adults in the whole country."
"In New York? Not in New York!!" He did the shocked, eye-popping, rearview mirror face again, while the cab zoomed around a corner. "Not even in Harlem, or the Bronx, are there adults who cannot read," he asserted. But there was a question in his tone. He clearly had a love and patriotism for the United States, and especially for New York.
"In New York it's about 15, maybe 20% of adults who can't read well," I said. "It's a lot worse in the South."
"And how is it that so many adults cannot read? Did they not go to school, or...?" We merged onto FDR Drive. The East River was greenish gray in the morning light.
"Many reasons," I said. "Some people have learning disabilities or dyslexia. Some people live in rural farming areas and school was very far away, or they had to help work on the farm to support the family. Some people, their father died or something and they had to drop out of school and go to work."
He was smart and open-minded; once again I could see the plausible explanations crystallizing in his mind.
"But what do they do? How can a person who can't read, have any kind of job? Maybe cleaning, or dishwashing..." The full impact of literacy was dawning on him. "They can't read the newspaper or contracts, or forms at the doctor's office... And what about their children?"
"It's better for the whole community when its residents are literate," I said. "Companies don't want to start up in a place where there are under-educated employees. Children are more likely to learn to read if their parents can read." I recited my elevator speech, watching in his face as his understanding rapidly eclipsed the shock.
"Wow. So there is less tax dollars, and - and - less money for schools, and - " he said as we crossed over the Long Island Expressway bridge. He was looking for the EZ Pass toll lane, and I was looking at New York, still unfolding before my eyes. Throughout the trip I was constantly amazed that yes, New York is really that crowded. And from the vantage point of the bridge, I could see where a percentage of them lived: rows and rows of brick buildings laid out like child's blocks as far as I could see...
"So you help them learn reading so they can get better jobs? And then it is better for the whole community. Not just the individual person."
"Exactly," I replied. "It's better for everyone when adults are able to read." Now he had made the key logical leap that sometimes policy-makers get hung up on. We help people on an individual basis, one by one, but with an eye to the community as a whole. And it works - our number one source of new clients is word-of-mouth.
"So you are doing this work to improve the whole town of Columbia, South Carolina." he said. Yes!
After a weekend of flitting around New York in the colorful, rollicking, almost magical subway (cram in, hang on, and pop out at your destination!), I experienced it differently in the cab. (The above-ground version of cram in, hang on!) As I got out of the cab at LaGuardia airport and waved goodbye to our newest Friend of Literacy, I felt that we had both truly learned something about our world.
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