I read that most human perception is visual (like 93%). I also kind of have a feeling that sound – that is, the melodic quality of sound – is more important, more perceived, than the words that the sound carries. I may be wrong on that, however.
For example, when I think of a song, the first thing that comes to mind is the artist’s face, (if I have seen it before), then the melody and the sound of the artist’s voice are the next things I notice and put my attention on. If I haven’t seen the artist’s face, I think I pay less attention.
Like with Gnarles Barkley’s Crazy*, I think first of the melody and the feeling of the song, it’s driving nature, and I don’t really think much about the words that are riding the crest of this melody thoughout the song. I do hear the words, but I don’t remember much after “I remember when…”.
If, however, I replay the song over and over and over, like I do often with that particular song, then the words seem to come into focus more each time. Lots of repetitions bring that result.
I wonder if that is how the kids perceive what we are doing as their teachers when they sit down in our classes. If any of the above is true, then I would think that the following list might describe a taxonomy of their perception of their experience in our classrooms:
1. Safety first through the visual element. What is our face telling them? Are we pissed off and trying to hide it? If so, then the one kid that we allowed to piss us off with some dumb ass high school move just ruined the class for everyone else, and for us, of course, as well. because the students will do all that invisible world check-for-safety stuff first. Of course, I doubt if anyone in this group has been in that situation of having to hide anger, but just sayin’. (joke)
2. The sound carrying the words would be next, in my opinion. What is the auditory feel of the melody, if you will, of what we say? Is what we are saying worthy of their interest? Is it about them? Are we acknowledging that they are in the room? What is the sound that they are hearing in our song of language to them? How does the feeling/tone of our voice affect them?
3. If those first two needs are met, then the kids might get into trying to understand the comprehensible input that we feel is the most important thing we are doing with them. If they feel safe (their eyes tell them that), and if they are at least somewhat attracted to the sound of the language that we are trying to sell them, then we might be able to get some CI conveyed into their deeper minds, where the language acquisition takes place. If they are able to hear something kind of melodic to them, something that invites further inspection (the meaning of what we are saying), then we might be able to succeed in teaching them real language.
So, we probably might do well to give a thought to how we present ourselves visually and in terms of our moods to our classes, especially the expression in our faces and the expresssion in our voices.** After that, we can go for the gusto – the CI. But, why spend a ton of time working on learning the method, when that is only the third thing that they perceive?
Sorry it’s not scientific. I’m sure there is a nice study out there with much more information on this. I just am one of those hippies who don’t see a huge conection between teaching a language and doing science about it. Teaching is a feeling toned thing for me. I figure if we aren’t having fun, it’s not something I want to do anyway.
*http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzV9QExGFQs
**I used to have a quality in my voice that conveyed that what we were learning was just very very important. Like, if we didn’t learn it, then all hell would break loose and we would fail the spring exams. This is not easy for me to write because I did it for so long. I know that my students caught that and that it affected my teaching in a very negative way. I felt like all the pressure for our achievement together, all of it, lay entirely on me. Like, lying inside my use of L1, and especially in my AP classes, I was saying, “Oh please, please learn this! It is so important!” And only the four percenters would grant me that favor and I would get depressed if my AP pass rate was under 65%. The ones who couldn’t get all the rules and stuff that I was sending them (most of them) seemed to get further and further away from me over the course of the year. Which really hurt, because I really cared what a few administrators thought of my performance. Luckily, I only lived in that kind of teaching hell and fear state for a quarter of a century. It could have been longer. Now, looking back, knowing what I know that administrators know (next to nothing), I realize what a shambles I made out of my nervous system for no reason. I hope that that kind of career doesn’t happen to any new teachers reading this. Gradually, over the years with comprehension based teaching, these past twelve years, I have found a new voice, one that is not sick with frenetic pleading that they learn it. This alone is proof that God does work miracles.