Reading Tesol
Reading Tesol
Effective Presentation:
Teacher Talk: Use clear communication, repeat key points, relate new information to prior
knowledge, and clarify when needed.
Conversational Approach: Engage students in a dialogue rather than a monologue. This includes
asking questions and encouraging participation.
Preparation: Great teaching often comes from careful planning and thinking about how to present
material in an engaging way.
Emotional Connection: Sharing personal stories can help students relate to the material, making it
more memorable.
These strategies aim to enhance the effectiveness of teaching and ensure that students retain the
information presented.
And if you want to continue exploring this topic, try one of these follow-up questions:
Bonus Reading: Employing "Good Talk" and
"Warm Language"
By Jessica Cinco
Have you ever had one of those teachers? The ones whose monotone voice drones on and on…and
on, until you either doze off in the middle of the lecture or hopelessly slump down in your desk,
with your hands covering your face wondering if the Cosmos was trying to punish you? Or maybe
you had a professor whose lectures were so unclear, complex, or abstract that you spent every single
moment in class trying to quell a panic attack because you knew that you wouldn’t be comprehend
the course material enough to pass the test.
I had one such professor, whom I’ll call “Dr. O,” during my freshman year of college. At that time, I
was a business major with high hopes of becoming a successful business woman. I enrolled in Dr.
O’s Introduction to Microeconomics class, and as I settled myself into my desk on the first day, I
knew I was in trouble. Dr. O quickly introduced himself, the syllabus and the class. Then, he
immediately launched into his initial lecture on microeconomics. He was definitely not a dynamic
speaker. To begin with, he never once made eye contact with the students. He spent most of the
class lecturing in a dull, detached voice while simultaneously furiously scribbling information on
the board. As a result, his back was to the class for the majority of class, while he spoke—mumbled,
really—to the blackboard, instead of to the students.
While the words coming out of his mouth were in English, I struggled to understand what he was
actually saying. As I glanced around the lecture hall, I noticed expressions of sheer bewilderment on
the other students’ faces and felt slightly comforted that I wasn’t alone in my lack of
comprehension. A few brave students tried to ask Dr. O some questions to clarify the information,
but his answers were just as cryptic as the rest of the lesson. As the semester wore on, Dr. O
continued to confuse, befuddle and bore students with his lectures. My final grade in that class was
not one that I am proud of, which made me realize I was in the wrong major. I changed my major to
German and Communications and upon graduating, embarked on an ESL teaching journey that has
taken me around the world a few times and now, to Arizona. To this day, economics remains a
mystery, but I do have Dr. O’s teaching skills, or lack thereof, to thank for inspiring me to leave the
business field!
If someone were to write a book entitled, How Not to Teach, Dr. O would likely be pictured on the
front cover. Now, don’t get me wrong, Dr. O was an absolutely brilliant man, and an expert in the
field of economics; however, that doesn’t automatically make him a great teacher. Sadly, he was
unable to organize and simplify the vast amount of economics information stored in his brain and
present it in a manner easily understood by 18 year old freshmen, most of whom had never taken an
economics class. Dr. O is not alone. Teachers in every field—economics, math, physics, and yes,
even language—struggle to convey their wealth of knowledge in a logical, clear fashion so that
students can not only understand ideas, but also engage and take a deep interest in the material.
Ken Bain, the Director of the Center for Teaching Excellence at New York University, spent 15
years researching the qualities of the most effective university professors. He observed them in
class and compiled the results of his research, and offered some helpful tips to help all educators
strengthen their teaching skills. Here are two of his ideas:
Good Talk
Teachers can treat the lesson as a conversation instead of a performance. Here are a few of Bain’s
suggestions:
· Interact with students.
· Have eye contact with all students.
· Routinely check that students are understanding.
· Be aware of students’ facial expressions or body language. Bored or confused looks should be
signals to rephrase your information. Smiles and nods mean that students are interested and relate to
what you’re saying.
· Move around the room, don’t be anchored to your podium.
· Learn the students' names.
· Engage students in banter and allow them to ask questions, offer opinions and interact with the
lesson.
· Use conversational tones.
· Speak clearly and carefully. Be sure to enunciate.
· Project your voice.
· Change the focus or activity every 10-12 minutes to stimulate and hold students’ interest.
Warm Language,
Teachers and professors, in an attempt to look austere or scholarly, can sometimes take themselves
and their classroom content too seriously. Traditionally, this was done to make the teacher appear as
the all-knowing expert up on a pedestal, whom the students revere and dutifully take notes from. As
teaching methods have evolved, so have views of teachers and classroom interactions. Teachers
who adhere to the communicative approach have made a conscious effort to avoid “putting
themselves up on a pedestal,” and instead have adopted a warm, engaging learning environment.
“Warm language” was discussed in Video 5 as a means to draw students into the lesson and further
engage them. Here are some techniques for using “warm language” in your classes.
· Talk about ideas, instead of around them.
· Bring the student “into” the lesson and work through ideas together.
· Create a clear image or idea that students can relate to.
· Personalize the class.
· Use asides (“You know,….”) and explanatories (“Well, wouldn’t you know….” and
“Goodness….”).
· Be explicit and transparent.
· Tell the “story” (or lesson) and give clear, simple explanations that students can easily understand.
· Ask critical thinking questions that provoke thought.
· Use humor in the class.
· Bring the language down to the students’ level of knowledge without talking down to them (Bain,
2004).
By employing “good talk” and “warm language” techniques in your classes, you can make yourself
seem more human and bring yourself down to the students’ level for a more comfortable classroom
atmosphere. As a result, students react more positively, are more engaged in the class, and are more
likely to retain what they learn from your class for years to come. You might’ve noticed that these
are some techniques that we, ourselves, have been utilizing throughout this course. Instead of being
one of those dull, incomprehensible teachers whose classes students dread like my econ professor,
Dr. O, our goal for this course is to engage, inspire and empower you to become effective teachers
in your own classrooms!
Give me a summary
Coach
In this lecture, the author shares a personal experience with a professor, referred to as "Dr. O,"
whose ineffective teaching style led to confusion and disengagement among students. Despite being
knowledgeable in economics, Dr. O struggled to present information clearly and interactively,
resulting in a lack of understanding and interest from his students.
The lecture emphasizes the importance of effective teaching techniques, drawing on research by
Ken Bain, who identified key qualities of successful educators. Two main strategies are highlighted:
• Good Talk: This involves treating lessons as conversations, engaging with students,
maintaining eye contact, checking for understanding, and using clear, conversational
language.
• Warm Language: This approach encourages teachers to create a welcoming environment
by personalizing lessons, using relatable examples, and fostering open communication.
By applying these techniques, educators can enhance student engagement and retention of material,
ultimately aiming to inspire and empower learners in their classrooms. The goal of the course is to
help participants become effective teachers, avoiding the pitfalls of ineffective teaching exemplified
by Dr. O.
J
Janette
What is the main issue with Dr. O's teaching style?
Coach
The main issue with Dr. O's teaching style is his lack of engagement and clarity. Key points
include:
• Monotone Delivery: He spoke in a dull, detached voice, which made it difficult for students
to stay focused.
• Poor Interaction: Dr. O did not make eye contact with students and often turned his back to
them while lecturing, limiting interaction.
• Complexity of Information: He failed to simplify complex concepts, leaving students
confused and unable to grasp the material.
• Inaccessible Responses: When students asked questions, his answers were just as unclear,
further hindering understanding.
These factors contributed to a negative learning experience, making it hard for students to engage
with and comprehend the subject matter.
J
Janette
How can teachers improve their interaction with students?
Coach
Teachers can improve their interaction with students by implementing the following strategies:
• Engage in Conversation: Treat lessons as discussions rather than lectures. Encourage
students to ask questions and share their thoughts.
• Maintain Eye Contact: Make eye contact with students to create a connection and show
that you are attentive to their needs.
• Check for Understanding: Regularly ask questions or use quick assessments to gauge
student comprehension and adjust your teaching accordingly.
• Observe Body Language: Pay attention to students' facial expressions and body language
to identify confusion or interest, and respond appropriately.
• Move Around the Classroom: Avoid being anchored to one spot. Moving around can help
create a more dynamic and engaging learning environment.
• Learn Students' Names: Personalizing interactions by using students' names fosters a sense
of belonging and respect.
• Encourage Participation: Create opportunities for students to share their opinions and
engage in discussions, making them feel valued in the learning process.
By incorporating these techniques, teachers can create a more interactive and supportive classroom
atmosphere, enhancing student engagement and learning outcomes.
Taxonomy of Language Learning
The Input Hypothesis
Excerpt from Principles and Practice in Second Language Acquisition, (pgs. 20-22) by Stephen D
Krashen; retrieved September 3, 2015 from
http://www.sdkrashen.com/content/books/principles_and_practice.pdf
THE INPUT HYPOTHESIS
(a) Statement of the hypothesis
Let us first restate the question of how we acquire: given the correctness of the natural order
hypothesis, how do we move from one stage to another? If an acquirer is at "stage 4", how can he
progress to "stage 5"? More generally, how do we move from stage i, where i represents current
competence, to i + 1, the next level? The input hypothesis makes the following claim: a necessary
(but not sufficient) condition to move from stage i to stage i + 1 is that the acquirer understand input
that contains i + 1, where "understand" means that the acquirer is focused on the meaning and not
the form of the message.
We acquire, in other words, only when we understand language that contains structure that is " a
little beyond" where we are now. How is this possible? How can we understand language that
contains structures that we have not yet acquired? The answer to this apparent paradox is that we
use more than our linguistic competence to help us understand. We also use context, or knowledge
of the world, our extra-linguistic information to help us understand language directed at us.
The input hypothesis runs counter to our usual pedagogical approach in second and foreign
language teaching. As Hatch (1978a) has pointed out, our assumption has been that we first learn
structures, then practice using them in communication, and this is how fluency develops. The input
hypothesis says the opposite. It says we acquire by "going for meaning" first, and as a result, we
acquire structure! (For discussion of first language acquisition, see MacNamara, 1972).
We may thus state parts (1) and (2) of the input hypothesis as follows:
(1) The input hypothesis relates to acquisition, not learning.
(2) We acquire by understanding language that contains structure beyond our current level of
competence (i + 1). This is done with the help of context or extra-linguistic information.
A third part of the input hypothesis says that input must contain i + 1 to be useful for language
acquisition, but it need not contain only i + 1. It says that if the acquirer understands the input, and
there is enough of it, i + 1 will automatically be provided. In other words, if communication is
successful, i + 1 is provided. As we will discuss later, this implies that the best input should not
even attempt to deliberately aim at i + 1. We are all familiar with syllabi that try to deliberately
cover i + 1. There is a "structure of the day", and usually both teacher and student feel that the aim
of the lesson is to teach or practice a specific grammatical item or structure. Once this structure is
"mastered", the syllabus proceeds to the next one. This part of the input hypothesis implies that such
a deliberate attempt to provide i + 1 is not necessary. As we shall see later, there are reasons to
suspect that it may even be harmful.
Thus, part (3) of the input hypothesis is:
(3) When communication is successful, when the input is understood and there is enough of it, i + 1
will be provided automatically.
The final part of the input hypothesis states that speaking fluency cannot be taught directly. Rather,
it "emerges" over time, on its own. The best way, and perhaps the only way, to teach speaking,
according to this view, is simply to provide comprehensible input. Early speech will come when the
acquirer feels "ready"; this state of readiness arrives at somewhat different times for different
people, however. Early speech, moreover, is typically not grammatically accurate. Accuracy
develops over time as the acquirer hears and understands more input. Part (4) of the input
hypothesis is thus:
(4) Production ability emerges. It is not taught directly.
Fifty-five Hours
by Bedar
Language doesn’t care about your social standing. I am a future law professor in my country, and
among the academic community, I can speak with the greatest of ease. My language is in perfect
harmony with my thoughts, and is my passport to high society. I can also speak of philosophy,
music, and art. But that first day almost a year ago, as soon as I set foot in the United States,
everything changed for me. In New York I became something besides a prospective lawyer. I
became a foreigner—a foreigner that didn’t even know he was holding his map upside down.
And there was so much more that I didn’t know! With a change of language also comes a change of
culture, and no dictionary can help you discover these changes. For example, I bought an airplane
ticket from my hometown in Kurdistan to New York, and I reasoned with myself that once I arrived
in New York it would be cheaper to buy tickets for a particular flight. I was right about that. What I
didn’t know, however, was that when I got to New York, there were no longer seats available on the
flight, and that the next available ticket would be more than a day away. So, horribly, I was stuck in
the New York Airport for more than 24 hours. I thought about getting a hotel, but it was winter, it
was dark, and after picking up my two large suitcases from baggage claim, I didn’t think I could
walk very far. I did step out quickly onto the street, but after snapping a photo in the incredibly cold
New York air, I realized I would not step outside the airport again. I settled into a stiff leather chair
and watched my suitcases carefully. I waited. And waited. My laptop was dying. I looked for a plug.
Even the outlets were different here. Why didn’t I know that? Another thing I should have known.
One long day and one stiff neck later, a lady at my gate told me to get on board. I was so happy to
finally board a plane headed to Phoenix.
When I first arrived at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport, I walked out onto the south curb. My laptop
was now dead. This meant that I couldn’t use Google Maps to find my way, so I motioned for an
airport taxi conductor to come speak to me.
I gave the address to this man, who read it and said, “I will take you for sixty dollars.” My English
listening skills were not good, especially when dealing with another foreigner. The conductor, a
small brown man with a mustache, said it again, “Sixty dollars!” I thought to myself, “What a
horrible price for just a small ride!”
It wasn’t until seven months later that I started remembering this event, and I came to the realization
that he did NOT say sixty dollars, but sixteen!
Yet that day my poor, uneducated ears heard sixty, and so my ears and I refused to listen to him
anymore. I told him, “Oh God, no!” and that it was too much to pay. I walked away from this poor
little man and wandered back toward the airport information center. I was informed by a tall woman
to take a bus that would take me to the light rail. I fumbled around with my English and she finally
gave me a list of buses. She told me which bus would take me to the light rail.
“What’s a light rail?” I said.
“It’s a train,” she said.
So I boarded a shuttle that took me to the light rail. I met a conductor.
“Could you please take me to that address?”
He was not a conductor. I asked another person, “Where’s this address?” I said.
“Just take the light rail,” he said.
And then, I don’t know, I simply got on and off, grabbing my suitcases as I went, asking people if
they knew the address I kept unfolding out of my pocket.
Soon I was at the end of the line at a place called Sycamore Station, and I asked for help again from
a complete stranger.
“Get on that bus,” he said.
“Alright,” I thought, “I can get on another bus.” I looked at my luggage. My hands were so tired.
They would not straighten.
This bus was not like the shuttle, and it was not like the buses back home. In my country, we don’t
pay as soon as we get on the bus. We pass the money to the driver after we are seated. So when I
went inside the bus, I asked the driver, “Could you please take me to this address?” He stared.
“Okay, it’s on my way.”
And then he stared at me. And I stared at him. And then I turned away to sit down. He raised his
voice.
“You have to pay.” I turned back around, set down my luggage, and felt in my pockets for American
money. I took out dollars, could I use dollars? I took out coins, was it enough? The bus driver stared
at me. Finally, I sat down.
Soon I was sitting down, frustrated that I didn’t know how to do something as simple as pay for a
bus. I refused to look at the bus driver, but then I realized he was my only hope of finding my hotel.
So I kept looking out the window at each stop, hoping he would remember my request for help.
Finally, at one stop, he spoke.
“It’s down this street to your right,” he said. I wondered if he was speaking to me. He said it again,
this time looking straight at me. I got off.
When I finally unlocked my hotel room, I sat on the bed, and I realized it was the first time I had
ever been in a place without my family.
It had been fifty-five hours since I had first stepped out of my home in my country. Now, more than
two days later, I finally had the chance to sleep. Ironically, I was wide awake. Arizona time was ten
hours behind the time zone in my city. So day and night were reversed.
And now, as I sat in my room, I noticed how lonely I felt. There was no one there. When I was
home, if I opened a door, I would be greeted by my wife, mother, father, sisters, and brothers. But
now, it was just me. The hotel room was small, and it began to feel smaller. It was the first time a
feeling came over me.
“Oh my God! I am so far from my family.” This thought kept spinning in my head. I am so far from
my family. I am away from my family for a whole year. One year. 55 hours. These numbers kept
going through my head. I cried.
I looked out the window. Where was I? What was I doing? It is time to go home. There were too
many new rules. I can’t even get on a bus, I told myself. I can’t even get off a bus. What else don’t I
know? Language and culture, my old friends, had turned their backs on me.
That night, for a brief moment, I decided to go back. I told myself to go back home and cancel my
scholarship. I thought, I should just forget this. It took me awhile before I remembered why I came
in the first place. That is when a phrase came to my mind.
It said, “To be something special, do something special”
I am an educated person, but I am also a faithful person. As a Muslim, I believe in God. And it was
in that hotel room that I remembered that I wanted to do something for Him. I wanted to be a
productive member of my society. Of course I was going to become a law professor in my country,
but I knew when I made this decision that I had wanted more. I wanted to be a lawyer with a law
degree from the United States. I wanted to help my country to escape from the government
corruption that was a part of everyday life. Strangely enough, I believed that learning American law
would help make my job easier in my own country. I needed to add my past experience as a lawyer
with new knowledge, just like I needed to learn a new language and culture.
Although it took me fifty-five hours to learn it, my first American lesson was a simple one. I learned
that life has many beginnings, and I was to begin again.
Things to Think About
1. Many people think that Bedar has courage. What does he do to demonstrate courage?
2. What is Bedar's motivation for learning English? Do you think it is important to have
motivation to learn a language? Why?
Pieces
by Nigar
When I came to the U.S., I was so, so sad at the beginning. You know, in my country, we have
ridiculous comedies, comedies that meant nothing to me when I was in Kurdistan. But now in the
U.S., I watch them and fall off my chair laughing. I have forgotten how funny my people are. I have
forgotten a lot of things.
Forgetting things. Now that I am in the United States, I am constantly forgetting things. Like the
glass table I had at my old home. I was told not to get it, but it was too beautiful for me to ignore. It
became part of my everyday life, and after a while, I forgot it was special to me. One day,
carelessly, I tossed my keys on it, and it broke into pieces. Only then did I realize how much I loved
it and how much it had become a part of me.
Now, I often think about how Kurdistan is that glass table. Now that I am in the U.S, I remember
some of these pieces, and each piece I find is like a discovery. I remember my cousins laughing
together. I remember a tree in my front yard. I remember the feel of my mother hugging me each
night as a returned from school. Each piece has such value to me now! I spend hours thinking and
remembering, gathering the broken pieces of my life.
For years, I have tried to do the best for my country because I knew, and even now I know the
Kurdish people need someone to do something for them. That’s why I decided to do whatever I can,
and why I decided to come to the United States. I knew that it was the key to getting my dream to
become real. It’s not fun. It’s not easy. It’s not simple. But I decided. At least, I thought so.
One night the bitterness of self-exile made me tell my husband, “I want to stop.” He stared at me
like I was joking. “I want to stop. Stop because I cannot tolerate and endure this situation.” I cried
that night, and wouldn’t stop crying until I looked in front of the mirror. I saw my eyes. I saw how
red they were, but more than that, I saw a child, a crying, stubborn child.
Like a crazy person, I talked with myself. And this was not the first time. Sometimes it was in front
of the mirror, as if I were speaking to someone from my imagination. Not a real one. But it was me.
I talked to myself. It was like a picture, but a real person.
“What do you want, Nigar?”
“I want to go home.”
“Why? Do you want to be lazy? They need you. They need you. I thought you wanted to sacrifice
big things. I thought you wanted to sacrifice it all. There are bigger things than you.” The girl on the
other side of the mirror stared at me with suspicious eyes.
“But I’m so tired.”
“Nigar, what are you doing? You look like a crazy person, staring at me crying like that. Have you
no strength? Why did you choose this?”
“But I didn’t know…”
“You DID know. You did know it would be hard. You chose the United States just for fun? For
travel? Think about that. Just think.”
And I stare at myself in the mirror. The girl’s hands are in fists. I want to tell her that I just want to
go home. I want her to understand. But her eyes show me she is in no mood to give sympathy. What
did she ask me to do? Oh, that is right. She wants me to think. So I begin to think. I look at the girl
in the mirror again and she seems so different from me. Confident. Angry. Able to do anything.
Accepting only my best. In my mind I realize that I have given her a name, and that the name is
American. I can’t quite explain how I know, but I know her name is Tina. I decide to avoid her and
speak to myself.
“Okay, Nigar,” I whisper to myself, “what do you want right now?” I know immediately that my
answer is to return to my country. I do not look at Tina, and I only whisper to myself, but Tina has
overheard me.
“So that’s it, then? You want to return back to your country and have fun and relax? No more
studies, huh? So you want to go back and start having some fun? No more studying? No more
working hard? You want this?”
I respond to her, “Yes. Life is, well, it is so short. I don’t want…have any…any responsibilities.
This life is too hard. I can’t do it. I can’t do it, Tina.”
“Oh,” she taunts me with a false sympathetic smile, “I thought you were a strong person and that
you wanted to sacrifice yourself for your country.”
“You said you would do it. You were so confident then. But, now, unfortunately, we find out the
truth: you are a selfish person. You are really a selfish person.”
And I scream at her, “No, no, I am not! But I…” I can’t finish my thought. Tina already has an
answer.
“It’s okay. I understand. You want to relax and let other people suffer from corruption. It isn’t your
fault you were born into a rich country with a lot of disadvantaged people because of the bad
government. Why should you be needy? Why should you suffer? I understand.” I want to scream at
Tina. I look into the mirror and want to break the glass. I am tired of her self-righteous strength.
But then she does something different. She changes her approach and begins speaking of the job I
left behind as a law teacher. She reminds me of the very reason I left the country. “How about your
future students? How about them?”
And I try to answer, “If I die after 5 years, I did nothing in my life, just difficulties and depression.
And that’s the end of me. I’m so sad. I can’t tolerate this situation. Why do you say I am selfish? I
am not selfish.”
But now I am thinking. Tina has a way of doing this to me. I remember those students. The future of
our country. Those students had hope, even in a system that was filled with decades of corruption.
They believed that we could change the country. And I had left the country with my husband
knowing that if we learned how the legal system should work, then we could return and fight.
Tina keeps speaking and I am listening now, “How about your future students? How about them?
They need a teacher, a friend. They need you. How about them? Can you imagine the looks on their
faces and in their eyes.”
And I do remember the looks on the faces of students in Kurdistan. And I do remember their eyes.
And I cannot imagine forgetting them, but I suddenly realize I have. I concentrate and try to
remember some of their names. I think of their faces—like the lovely girl who wore a head scarf
and was always reading. She always came after class and asked my advice. What was her name?
And once again I realize that I have become careless. I stand for a long time trying to remember. I
begin to see more faces, more names, until finally I am satisfied. I don’t know how long it takes, but
I feel whole again and I open my eyes. I hadn’t even realized they were closed, but when I open
them, I see Tina looking at me.
“You are right, Tina. I remember now.” She stares at me with a small grin. After a while, it turns
into a big smile. I feel my heart spill out like water. I’m thankful for my imaginary friend.
“I won’t break any more glass today,” I tell her.
And then, without words, I promise myself and Tina that I won’t be careless anymore when I see
something so beautiful as a glass table. As I look in the mirror again I see that Tina and I are now
somehow the same person. Confident. Able to do anything. Accepting only my best.
I don’t know when it happened, but she has become a part of me.
Things to Think About
1. What does the glass table represent?
2. Have you ever felt divided in more than one piece? Why does Nigar initially feel divided?
3. Do you find it strange that she talks to herself? Why do you think she does this?