Ben,
I know this topic has come up on your blog a few times in the past. Traditional language programs appear to “weed students out.” All but the best students end up dropping out of language programs. Only 4% of students acquire anything resembling fluency. Etc.
This year, our department chair reminded us to talk up the program. We need to keep our numbers up. We need to keep ourselves employed.
I did my duty. I spoke to the students, in English, about all the benefits of knowing another language. It can improve your IQ, your SAT scores, your GPA, your chances of getting a coveted scholarship, etc. We talked about different careers where knowing a language would be helpful.
And now, the truth comes out. I am feeling a little betrayed, honestly. Here I am, putting my heart on my sleeve, selling this program to these kids, telling stories, etc. And they come at us with these little sheets of paper asking us to sign recommendations that they continue for another year. And would you believe that these teachers are refusing to sign? This student doesn’t strike me as a third year student. This student doesn’t have what it takes.
Who do they think they are? How can we deny these kids a class in something they actually want, just because they don’t fit our paradigm of what a “good” language student is? I am livid. It’s like overhearing the conversation in the hallway where my colleague was “counseling” my former student into dropping the class (a requirement for graduation, by the way), because she “might not be cut out for learning languages.”
Here, we have kids who want to learn. Who like learning. And we are refusing to see them. We are refusing to see them as human beings. We are refusing to see what they bring. We see only what we want to see, their handicaps. And then we wonder why our enrollment is so low. It’s because we don’t sign the slips of the people who really wanted to be here.
I don’t know if I have any profound thoughts. But, I thought that, of all the people I know, you would understand this feeling of futile rage. And, perhaps would sing your soul, or rage with me, or remind me that this old system is crumbling down. Remind me that I too am a person. That it is ok to care about these kids. And maybe even urge my perverse streak that wants to sign everybody’s papers just because.
Maybe I will hang a poster up in the hall – “will sign your request for world language classes for free. No need to know me. No need to speak my language. Just hand me your papers and I will sign.”
On the other hand, maybe I will hide in my hole another year, get tenure, and then come out swinging.
Jennifer
My response:
Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham,
rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham,
oh rock my soul….
… and if Abraham isn’t around, lost behind the couch or taped to the back of a TV set, tell your kids to ask a teacher for guidance and solace. Kids can count on teachers to have their best interests at heart. That’s what teachers do, they have their – the teachers – best interests at heart. The kids are so easy to fool! Tell them that they can’t do something, and they believe it! All you have to do is say, “I’m sorry, Lakisha, you aren’t cut out for language study – I wish I could sign your form but I just can’t, based on what I saw you not do in my classroom this past year.” And Lakisha says, “Yes, ma’am.” or “I’m sorry, Fernando, you just won’t be comfortable at level three next year. I can’t sign this.” And Fernando thinks, “… but I’m fluent in Spanish” but says, “Yes, ma’am.” and “Ronnie, your average this year is a 65%, and we both know that you don’t know enough about verbs to go to French 2. So I’m going to have to say no.” Who needs Abraham?