Faking it: Dealing with shyness in the classroom
Every time I meet a new group of students, I ask them to tell me about themselves. Where are they from? What have their experiences with English or literature been in the past? And what's something most people don't know about them?
These are questions I answer myself, and I always tell my students on the first day this "secret" about myself: most people don't know that I'm actually very shy.
It's important for me to share this with them for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it's not at all obvious. My classroom persona is actually a bit over the top. I'm very smiley, I crack bad jokes, and I address behaviors that don't meet my expectations mostly through humor. If students avoid the front rows, for example, I make a big show of surprise and then explain that I went to extra trouble to bathe and put on deodorant.
I also think it's important to bring shyness into the conversation because, in every class, there's usually a solid contingent of students who would rather not speak. Ever. Of course, in a language-learning classroom (right now I teach English as a foreign language in Paris) this won't work. Students have to open their mouths, engage, and interact to make any serious growth in their English. So before I ask students to interact with each other, I let them know that it's a challenge for me, too.
And I tell them it's okay to fake it.
Because that's really the only way I know of dealing with my shyness, and it's been my strategy ever since I began teaching in 2004. I just pretend I'm not shy. I say to myself, what would an outgoing person do right now? And then I do it. Most of the time, it works fine, and I'm sometimes even able to forget that deep down inside I'd infinitely prefer to be tucked safely away in the stacks of a library.
Also, faking it has its compensations. I always, always learn something from my students, which wouldn't happen if I let them stay silent. And pushing myself in the classroom stretches me and has made me more able to enter social situations that previously would have terrified me.
Taking Paris by Classroom
From American university to Paris university--it's not a seamless transition. But it is exciting, and my new students have me all revved up to find new ways to make English relevant.
I'm working on a thematic curriculum for our 12 weeks together that will let us explore "Other Americas" through articles and novel excerpts. Some students I've talked to here see the U.S. as one big Hollywood Blvd; I'll introduce them to issues and experiences related to Latino, LGBT, Black, Asian, and Native American communities. We'll also talk about what it means to be disabled or mentally ill in the U.S.--and how these experiences compare to what they know from France.
I've just posted a list of resources to jump-start English explorations outside the classroom. This list is geared toward adult English language learners, and it's purpose is to help them discover authentic reading material in English that will make vocabulary-building natural. Here's the English Artifact Weekly Assignment that goes with it, for those who are curious. Basically, each week, instead of assigning them a particular reading, I charge students with choosing their own English reading material and bringing back "proof" (their artifact) of the experience along with a reflection that will help them consolidate the learning.
Bonus: students at different levels can find materials appropriate to their ability, thus avoiding frustration and boredom. And everyone gets to follow his or her interests. Yea for differentiation!
The idea for self-directed reading for language-learning came from following the blog Mis Musicuentos by a dynamic, motivated, and tired-of-the-status-quo Spanish teacher. Here's the post that got me thinking, "yeah, this would work for ELL learners of English, too."