The Other Side

In the few years I've been a teacher, I've discovered one constant: It always takes me three tries to get it right. When I taught intensive writing at U of Akron, it wasn't until my third semester that I finally knew what I was doing - my endless apologies to my poor, poor first semester students. In Indonesia my first year, I didn't 'get my legs' until my third rotation of students. Now that I'm moving into my third year of teaching at the Police Language Center, I'm hopeful that it will mean some proportionately large growth in my teaching behaviors and effectiveness.

Why is it that the road to growth always begins by being cut down to size? For our first few weeks in country, we EFLs are being treated to Bahasa Indonesia language lessons. This is fantastic. By some miraculously good guessing on a placement exam, I was placed in the advanced class. This is a disaster. In two years, I (hang head here) haven't been a very proactive learner of the national language. The capital city is swarming with people who speak English and speak it very well. My joke is that my 'bahasa (language) taksi' is excellent because that's the only place where I'm forced to use the language. So, without having taken a formal course, the language I do have came from what I heard in the office or with friends.

I once heard someone say of bahasa Indonesian that it can be learned in a month, but it takes a lifetime to master. I've experienced the first part of that adage, and I can do a lot with very little vocabulary or grammar. But, while that level of language can help me order food and direct taxis, it doesn't allow me to have in depth conversations about teaching with my colleagues or even join in the banter and gossip with my Indonesian friends. In short, it limits the relationships and experiences I can have.

Despite being in a small class with a kind instructor and three very close friends, I reach a level of anxiety in the classroom that I haven't experienced since puberty hit. I'm definitely the lowest level in the class, and that is a strike to my tender ego. The class is also entirely in bahasa Indonesia, so I'm nearly constantly frustrated. Then, today, the instructor announced - or at least I'm pretty sure she did - that we would be giving a speech. Not just any speech, either. It would be - I'm nearly positive - a speech on how we could invite the Indonesian government to increase their collaboration with the American education system. My classmates talked on about the finer points of collaborative partnerships - or at least I think they did - while I flashed back to my high school Spanish class where I'm fairly convinced that I had an anxiety attack during a similar speech assignment. Right. Now I remember what's going on behind that blank-stare look that my students often have.

It is from here that I am once again acutely aware of what it is like to be a language learner. And it is from here that I also remember the impact that good instruction can have on language learning. So, despite wanting to slink under the table to choke back tears or avoid direct eye contact with my bahasa instructor, I'm sticking with my advanced class. I try to spend my time focusing on what the instructor does that supports my learning. I'm reminded of how important the extra practice is for some students. Also, constant checking for comprehension and allowing opportunities for questions. Most importantly, however, she reminded me of the importance of not just teaching the language, but also the deep-seated cultural aspects that affect the way we form our communications. As we're writing our speeches, we're learning about the most appropriate way to structure it so that it is both understood and heard. We learned the ever-important acknowledgements, the prayer-like introduction, and the humble conclusion. I realized how brash I must have sounded giving speeches in my very American, very straight-to-the-point, way. Now, I'm equipped to have similar conversations with my students.

Two weeks into my third year and I'm starting out on the other side of the classroom; rebuilding from the ground up. Hopefully, it will be a good foundation for a great year.

To all my fellow, fellows, colleagues and future students: Akhir kata bila ada kata-kata yang kurang berkeran, kami mohon maaf.