TEFL ANTHEMS VOL. I
An interesting debate over at ELT World in answer to the question, Are your students learning anything? has got me all reflective.
Many rock songs are claimed by religious maniacs to include subliminal messages when played backwards or by missing every sixth word or summat, but others are more easily deciphered. As TEFL anthems go, perhaps one of the most memorably haunting has to be Dave Gilmour/Roger Waters' bitterly ironic collaboration reflecting on TEFL one-to-one classes being taught abroad, Wish You Were Here:
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
As TEFL mongers we often feel like we're in a fish bowl, year after year, not least because the majority of our students exhibit the retention capacities of the goldfish. After painstakingly explaining that we use the preposition to after various verbs, the next class is always a Dead Sea of blank faces as we ask the breezy question, What do you want to do tonight, João?, secretly hoping for the answer "emigrate" or "get that lobotomy I've been saving up for", but all we receive is the deeply inevitable "what means want?" (pronounced as in w*nk).
I have often felt like I'm in suspended animation in TEFL, like on that Nirvana album cover where the baby's bobbing about underwater in a silent yet transparent netherworld. I see life going on around me, people having careers - they may be getting promoted, being fired, whatever, but always there's some kind of movement involved, whether it be onwards and upwards or as part of a downward spiral - in TEFL, it's like we're endlessly treading water in the same place at the same time when we've just seen a Royal Navy frigate steam obliviously by - Year after year, Running over the same old ground.
The satisfaction derived from most jobs stems, I suspect, from the feeling of having achieved something. An architect designs and builds buildings, a pilot flies and lands his plane safely at its destination, even an accountant balances his books and passes audits, however soul-grindingly tedious this process might be. But in TEFL we're just passing time, talking at people, getting them to use all their mental powers to complete a gap-fill exercise, only for their total amnesia in subsequent classes to make us wonder if we haven't just dreamed the whole thing as part of some Kafka-esque nightmare. I have, to this day, never felt uniquely responsible for anybody managing to speak English fluently, my status only ever having reached that of poorly-motivated childrens' entertainer on their glacial trajectory towards blingualism.
I've had countless students stumble along through English classes for a couple of months, only to realise that they're wasting their time and money and bow out graciously, whilst never admitting that they're giving up, only that they're suddenly inexpicably busy, despite their state of unemployment. Then, when they realise they can't find a decent job because every Brazilian company ludicrously demands inglês fluente they troop back for another awkward stint of mental torment, only to eagerly duck out again when they find a job in a bar serving cachaça via funnels to monolingual, monosyllabic road workers.
I hereby cry: HELP!
Many rock songs are claimed by religious maniacs to include subliminal messages when played backwards or by missing every sixth word or summat, but others are more easily deciphered. As TEFL anthems go, perhaps one of the most memorably haunting has to be Dave Gilmour/Roger Waters' bitterly ironic collaboration reflecting on TEFL one-to-one classes being taught abroad, Wish You Were Here:
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
As TEFL mongers we often feel like we're in a fish bowl, year after year, not least because the majority of our students exhibit the retention capacities of the goldfish. After painstakingly explaining that we use the preposition to after various verbs, the next class is always a Dead Sea of blank faces as we ask the breezy question, What do you want to do tonight, João?, secretly hoping for the answer "emigrate" or "get that lobotomy I've been saving up for", but all we receive is the deeply inevitable "what means want?" (pronounced as in w*nk).
I have often felt like I'm in suspended animation in TEFL, like on that Nirvana album cover where the baby's bobbing about underwater in a silent yet transparent netherworld. I see life going on around me, people having careers - they may be getting promoted, being fired, whatever, but always there's some kind of movement involved, whether it be onwards and upwards or as part of a downward spiral - in TEFL, it's like we're endlessly treading water in the same place at the same time when we've just seen a Royal Navy frigate steam obliviously by - Year after year, Running over the same old ground.
The satisfaction derived from most jobs stems, I suspect, from the feeling of having achieved something. An architect designs and builds buildings, a pilot flies and lands his plane safely at its destination, even an accountant balances his books and passes audits, however soul-grindingly tedious this process might be. But in TEFL we're just passing time, talking at people, getting them to use all their mental powers to complete a gap-fill exercise, only for their total amnesia in subsequent classes to make us wonder if we haven't just dreamed the whole thing as part of some Kafka-esque nightmare. I have, to this day, never felt uniquely responsible for anybody managing to speak English fluently, my status only ever having reached that of poorly-motivated childrens' entertainer on their glacial trajectory towards blingualism.
I've had countless students stumble along through English classes for a couple of months, only to realise that they're wasting their time and money and bow out graciously, whilst never admitting that they're giving up, only that they're suddenly inexpicably busy, despite their state of unemployment. Then, when they realise they can't find a decent job because every Brazilian company ludicrously demands inglês fluente they troop back for another awkward stint of mental torment, only to eagerly duck out again when they find a job in a bar serving cachaça via funnels to monolingual, monosyllabic road workers.
I hereby cry: HELP!
14 Comments:
Shit, this is a cry from the heart, MC. And I feel it may only be a reefer away from experimental poetry; in fact, my own humble suggestion would be that you now retire to a unobserved location with a bottle and write the TEFLers version of Allen Ginsburg's http://members.tripod.com/~Sprayberry/poems/howl.txt>Howl: it doesn't have to make too much sense, it might be cathartic, and a bloody good read too.
"What means want?" is analysable on so many levels. As you surely know.
Nil desperandum, MC. For every 400 lisping voids, you may steer one monoglot blimp into the burning fuel column of bilingualism.
"What means want?" A question worthy of Socrates. "Was Not Was" seems a fair answer.
Wow, Ginsberg certainly nailed the catharsis business. If I don't watch out I'll be reciting that in my sleep.
"What means want?" is readable on many levels, but one is enough, please God.
Ooh, such overeducated, pessimistic and cynical gits, wallowing in your own talentless and ambitionless existences.
How I envy you!
So 'what means want', does it? I thought it always meant something along the lines of, erm, ... 'what'.
What?
Ha, he's right! We're all wallowing in a pool of our own uselessly voided semen, with only our yapping tongues for paddles. How I wish I'd stayed on the family farm rogering the goats instead of bothering to take my GCSE general studies.
Btw, TEFL man, your comment on my "blog" was very much appeciated, I do hope to start start soon. Can you really sell me a suit of lights??
Can't somebody here help poor old MC and post a comment that's relavent to his original blog entry, which was about TEFL song lyrics, if I recall.
Thanks GD - at last some sanity trickles into the graveyard.
"...wallowing in a pool of our own uselessly voided semen, with only our yapping tongues for paddles" is a classic, by the way...
I agree with MC. That Gadjo couplet must be the opening salvo of any TEFL anthem.
In my first few days at Swansea Uni (formerly Cwmdonkin Bowls Club) I longed to return to the simple life of a Meirionethshire shepherd - a collie, a 'kerchief of cheese and my own programme on S4C.
After a day trying to explain why we move 'offices' not 'office', to two German law students, this post has tipped me over - I'm going to get plastered tmw.
Special, I hope it works for you. As Kerouac said, "My manners, abominable at times, can be sweet. As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind. I'm a wretch. But I love, love."
Mind you, as far as I know, he didn't dabble in TEFL...
A guy ı work with is related to the late Syd Barrett.
Thanks a lot for the commendation, chaps, it gives me a warm feeling inside.
I'm been wracking my brain to find Pink Floyd TEFL lyrics, but can only come up with the crashingly obvious ...Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone.
Syd Barret, Piper at the Gates of Dawn, just seemed like a few teenagers in a garage to me.
Looking back on my comment of yesterday, i've made good on my promise, off to watch this - Jack Kerouac and William F. Buckley Junior:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCrXpKEiEbY
That burning man caption is the funniest thing I have seen in a long while.
I teach EFL in Eastbourne and am approaching 50.
There may be some connection between the two.
Thanks for the comment, Mark.
I can let you have the lesson plan for free, though you'll have to buy your own paraffin... ;-)
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