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“Please Teach Me English!” (3)

(Last of Three Parts)

While trying to establish a good rapport with my students and make the classroom a relaxed environment during initial meetings with my Korean students, I also strive to destroy a fallacy.  The process kicks off as soon as I enter the classroom. I start by expressing my happiness in seeing my students in class and hoping they feel the same. Then, I ask a question followed by a related statement. The question is: “Are you expecting the teacher who will come here today to be tall, with yellow hair and fair skin?” This question always elicits mixed reactions from my students. Some look surprised, while others shake their heads to express they are not. Some even laugh, thinking it’s a joke. To follow up, I say: “Well, I am sorry, but I am not tall; my hair is black with some gray strands, and my skin is brown.”

Demystifying  A Myth

That statement would also draw mixed reactions. Judging from their facial expressions and reactions, some students took it seriously, and others found it funny. I was both “kiddingly serious” and “seriously kidding” with those pronouncements. Some students responded that they know some foreign professors are from the Philippines. So, they were no longer surprised to see a brown-skinned English teacher with a neutral accent.

Earning my students’ trust is very important as an English expat teacher. What makes accomplishing that necessary and challenging is that I may be an English teacher with the proper qualifications and training, but I am not from any of their preferred native English-speaking countries. Most Korean students expect their ESL/EFL teachers to be citizens of any of the following countries: the UK, the US, Canada, Australia, Ireland, New Zealand, and South Africa. However, I am from the Philippines and proudly a Filipino.

I have a specific reason for asking that question and making the follow-up statement. It serves as a prelude to what I plan to do later – to help my students understand that imitating native English speakers’ accents isn’t the only goal (or not the goal at all) of modern language learning. Korean students are so fixated on imitating American or British accents that if they don’t, they feel like they’ve failed as language learners. This obsession hinders their English learning progress.

I tried to persuade my Korean students that ESL/EFL learners do not necessarily need to mimic the accents of native English speakers. However, is this true? To address this question, I consulted someone who is neither a native English speaker nor a non-native English speaker – it’s Google’s Gemini. I asked the following question: “Is it essential for ESL and EFL learners to imitate the accents of native English speakers?” 

Gemini responded in the negative. In explaining why not, it gave the following reasons: the primary goal for most learners is clear and effective communication where understandable pronunciation and proper grammar are more important than a native-like accent; English is a global language with numerous regional variations and accents; and accents are a natural part of language diversity, and many people speak  English with accents influenced by their native languages.

The policy of most South Korean universities to exclusively hire ESL/EFL teachers from native English-speaking countries has created a misconception among Korean students (and perhaps among students in countries that implement the “only native speakers of English may apply” policy.). They believe that only teachers from those countries can teach English. This belief equates English proficiency with the ability to sound like native English speakers. However, it is essential to remember that speaking is just one of the four language macro skills language learners need to develop. Even accent training itself is just one of the many components of speaking.

I have been teaching at a university in South Korea for over ten years. Fortunately, some tertiary institutions in this country, including where I am currently working, believe that native English speakers don’t have a monopoly on teaching English. These universities subscribe to ChatGPT’s assertion that non-native English speakers who have learned English as a second language are more empathetic and effective teachers because they are familiar with the challenges faced by second language or foreign language learners.

It can be difficult to dispel the misconception that only native English speakers can effectively teach the language. Therefore, it is crucial for the few Filipinos, including myself, who have been allowed to teach here to demonstrate that we possess the necessary qualifications and pedagogical skills as English teachers. Sharing my educational background, training, and publications with my students on the first day of class is essential. This is not to boast but to assure them that I am well-qualified to teach. This is important because Korean students often verify their teachers’ qualifications. They must understand that I chose to pursue teaching as a profession, and I came to South Korea specifically to teach a subject for which I am trained.

Furthermore, I make it a point to inform my students that I have been teaching for over thirty years. I do this for two main reasons. First, I want to emphasize the extent of my experience in teaching. Second, I aim to convey to my students that my enduring commitment to the academe is driven by my passion for my job. As a teacher, I fully know my purpose and motivation.. I know my why.

What is your WHY?

In the next part of my class orientation script, I will delve into the boundaries of philosophy. I intend to discuss concepts in a manner reminiscent of the speeches delivered in “eve-of-battle” scenes in movies. My starting point would be the question: “Why am I a teacher?

The students were puzzled as they searched for an answer. This was expected, as the question required a long time of reflection. The students were unable to answer it until I provided follow-up questions: Can you call a woman a mother if she doesn’t have a son or a daughter, whether adopted or biological? Would you call a woman mother and a man father without at least a son or a daughter?

As most of them nod in agreement, I say, “I am a teacher because of the students. Each of you is the reason I am a teacher.” This statement reinforces my previous efforts to build a good relationship with my students because I genuinely believe it. This belief influences everything I do as a teacher. I often remind my students that without them, the role of a teacher would not exist.  My ultimate goal is to guide and help them become their best. As I fulfill the reason for my existence as a teacher, they benefit in return. We, therefore, maintain a symbiotic relationship.

After that, I would show them a video clip from the movie Collateral Beauty—specifically, the part where Howard Inlet, the character played by Will Smith, delivers a speech at a gathering of his employees at the beginning of the movie. That part of his speech primarily consists of questions: “What is your why? Why did you even get out of bed this morning? Why did you eat what you ate? Why did you wear what you wore? Why did you come here?”

I would pause the video clip after each question and ask the students to answer. Without them noticing it, I was not just attempting to inspire them but also checking their level of comprehension and ability to speak.

Then, I would follow up with questions like, “Why are you here in school?” “Why do you want to finish your studies?” “Why did you enroll in this class?” I always ask these questions because I want my students to understand that to succeed in their studies and future endeavors, they must have the correct answers to those questions.  This particular segment of my talk during the class orientation is also geared towards convincing them that getting an A+ is not the be-all and end-all of schooling.  Korean students are highly competitive. They are wired that way by their rigorous education system and a society that strongly emphasizes education. They are under pressure to excel academically. What exacerbates the situation is the grading system being relative (or curved), where a certain percentage of students receive A’s, B’s, C’s, and so on.

I believe it’s essential to help my students understand that the grade is not the “why” of learning. It is hard, but I tried to convince them to believe that the purpose of education goes beyond getting good grades. It is about assisting them to acquire the necessary knowledge, skills, and values that will help them achieve their full potential. The ultimate “why” (or the reason) they are enrolled for their university education is not to get an A+ but to prepare themselves to pursue the career they dream of seeking and to live a productive and happy life. I knew the few minutes I used to explain these things during the class orientation was insufficient for them to fully comprehend their significance. Thus, during classes, I found an opportunity to remind them about what I said regarding the real purpose of education.

Before finally presenting them with the syllabus for the course contents and the corresponding requirements, I would ask my last question – “Why do you want to learn English?”

In the movie “Please Teach Me English,”  that’s the first question Catherine asked her students during their initial meeting. Based on the responses given by my Korean students, I can categorically say that most of them are motivated to learn the language for extrinsic or practical reasons, similar to Young-ju’s intentions for enrolling in the English program in the film.

English is a core subject in South Korea’s curriculum. Having to study the language from an early age and knowing that it is a critical part of the Suneung (college entrance examination) exert immense pressure on the students to excel in the language. Many of them are even sent by their parents to hagwons to study English after school. The linguistically-inclined Korean students will most likely appreciate and benefit from the experience. Unfortunately, those who don’t find language learning pleasant will find it stressful and tiring. Some of them have mixed feelings towards learning the English language. They know the importance of gaining proficiency in the language but are also burdened by the demands of learning it. I don’t classify my students as novice, intermediate, advanced, superior, and distinguished. Our university doesn’t level-test our students because it is logistically impossible, given how our organization is structured. I categorized them according to what I perceive as their attitude towards the subject – those who love learning English, hate it, and those who both love and hate it. I need to calibrate my teaching methods and strategies to cater equally to those different kinds of language learners.

Students enthusiastic about learning the English language are likely to be the more advanced learners among my students. While I strive to adjust my teaching methods and strategies to accommodate all of them equally, I must pay special attention to students with lower proficiency levels and demonstrate my willingness to help them learn.

The goals I aim to achieve at the end of my class orientations are clear. It is not enough to inform them of the course contents and requirements. The first day of class presents an opportunity for me to establish a good rapport with my students and make them feel that the classroom during our classes is not a prison cell where they will be incarcerated the entire time I teach. Telling them that learning English is not geared towards mimicking the accent of native English speakers but to learn to communicate clearly in the language so they can become global citizens is a must. Asking them about their whys is helping them realize the importance of determining their purpose in life, that they are enrolled in the university not to collect A’s but to become the best versions of themselves, obtaining all the necessary knowledge, skills, and values they need to succeed in all their future personal and professional endeavors. 

I want to believe that those who felt the sincerity of my intentions are the ones who, at the end of the class orientation or regular classes, would not hesitate to approach me and say, “I don’t speak English well… please teach me.”

“Please Teach Me English!” (1)

(First of Three Parts)

“I don’t speak English well… please teach me.” One or two of my Korean students would tell me this (or a similar statement) in broken English at the end of our first meeting or any class as the semester progressed. Their voice and how they said it straddled between surrender and supplication. I cannot recall a semester where I did not hear something similar to that sentence. It reminds me of the first Korean movie I watched, “Please Teach Me English,” a romantic comedy film. It was recommended by the instructor who supervised the Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) short course that I took when I decided to include teaching English overseas as one of my career options. Each enrollee in that program was given a VCD copy of the movie. Well, I watched the film not because of  TESOL-related intentions but because of the increasing popularity of K-Drama and K-Pop, with which I got hooked. Little did I know that watching that movie would later influence my career path.

There is no shame in admitting that I am one of the millions who became obsessed with Korean cultural content. In short, I got drowned by the Korean Wave (Hallyu) that reached the shores of the Philippines at the turn of the 21st century. Like many of my compatriots (and people from other parts of the world), I became enamored with K-pop and K-drama. Therefore, even if our TESOL supervisor did not mention that the movie provides plenty of tips for foreign English teachers, I would watch the movie. I even revisited the film before completing the program. However, the movie only came back to my mind during my first semester of teaching here in South Korea when my students started approaching me and saying sentences similar to the movie’s title. It prompted me to vividly recall the scenes between the English teacher and her students and made me rewatch the film.

Since then, when students confide in me about their difficulties in learning English, I am reminded of the main characters, Young-ju and Jang-hyuk, in the movie. These characters embody the excitement and struggles many Koreans face while learning English. One scene that particularly stands out is when Young-ju is seen eating pages from a dictionary in hopes of improving her vocabulary. This desperation is a testament to the lengths that some Koreans will go to master the English language.

The English teacher in the story is named Catherine, a native speaker of English from Australia. After watching the movie again, her interactions with students came to mind when I held my classes. Catherine tried to speak Korean to communicate better with her students, which is something I struggle with.

The movie provides insight into the English education system in South Korea. It sheds light on how Koreans perceive English learning and interact with English-speaking foreigners. The film also reveals the differing opinions on the necessity of learning the language. Despite being released in 2003, it still accurately portrays the current realities of English education in South Korea and their belief that English is essential for upward social and economic mobility. It also gave me a deeper understanding of life in Korea and the Korean psyche. The movie succeeded in reconfiguring my “Korean Dream.”

My “Korean Dream”

The constant influx of Korean content in my country’s print and broadcast media sparked a deep interest in the history and culture of South Korea within me. In addition to watching K-dramas on TV, I actively sought out Korean-related materials on the internet and read encyclopedia entries about the country south of the 38th parallel line. Gradually, I found myself becoming more and more immersed in Korean culture. Instead of using traditional greetings like “hello” and “thank you,” I began using “annyeonghaseyo” and “gamsahamnida.” When expressing deep affection, I started saying “saranghaeyo” instead of “I love you.” I even began singing Korean songs and desired to try their food, particularly the legendary Kimchi. Over time, my interest in everything related to Korea grew.

The cultural influences of South Korea on my homeland have ignited a strong desire within me to visit the country and explore the locations featured in TV shows and movies. I have always wanted to come here to fulfill that desire. I had many plans for my trip, such as riding the subway system in Seoul, strolling through Myeongdong at night and trying street food, spending my summer vacation on the beautiful island of Jeju, tasting soju and maekju, and trying the unique combination of the two, known as somaek. I also looked forward to savoring Korean dishes prepared by local chefs, wearing traditional hanbok outfits, and immersing myself in the culture by interacting with native Korean people. This is how my dream of experiencing Korea began and has become deeply rooted in my mind.

After watching the movie “Please Teach Me English,” I dreamt of teaching English in South Korea. Initially, I wanted to teach English at a university in the Middle East, but then I started thinking, why not teach in the country I have been fascinated with for so long? My dream of visiting South Korea as a tourist turned into a desire to live and work here.

When I was training for TESOL, I was then experiencing severe burnout from years of work as a school administrator. It did not help that I was confronted by personal demons at the same time. That personal circumstance required that I make not only a change in my career but also in my environment. That’s when I decided to apply for a position as an English teacher here in South Korea. This country is a popular destination for English teachers due to the attractive salaries and excellent benefits. However, there is intense competition among native English speakers for teaching positions in schools and hagwons (private academies). Non-native English speakers encounter even more tremendous obstacles in securing these positions, and their prospects of landing a teaching role in the language department of a South Korean university are slim.  It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. If you’re not a citizen of a country that belongs to the inner circle of the concentric circles model of the English language, it’s nearly impossible to get hired.

I couldn’t believe it when, for the first time, I read in an advertisement for ESL/EFL teachers the lines “Only native speakers of English may apply!”.  I thought it was a prank. But it wasn’t. Why native speakers of English are accorded that preference or almost an exclusive right to teach Korean students is unfathomable.  Fortunate and privileged are the “Catherines” of the world.

Blessed “Catherines”

When I began searching for teaching positions abroad, I noticed numerous job openings for English teachers in South Korea. However, I was disappointed to find very few opportunities for non-native English speakers like myself, while there were many for native speakers like the character named Catherine in the movie. I couldn’t help but grudgingly think that being a “Catherine” in this world is a privilege. I was surprised to learn that many universities in Asian countries such as South Korea, China, Japan, Vietnam, and the Middle East only preferred to hire native English speakers to teach the language. I realized this policy existed when I started looking for teaching positions abroad. I never thought that native-speakerism was a real thing. In a world as diverse as ours, it seems unfair that only native English speakers can teach the language.

Is the “only native speakers of English may apply” policy fair, just, and acceptable? If I get to respond to the question, the answer is already apparent. So, I decided to seek the opinion not of a non-native English speaker or a native speaker of the language but of a neutral entity – ChatGPT.

ChatGPT explains that “being a native speaker does not necessarily equate to being a skilled language teacher. Teaching requires specific training and expertise in pedagogy and language instruction, which native speakers may not possess. Additionally, non-native speakers who have learned English as a second language often have firsthand experience with the challenges that learners face, making them empathetic and effective teachers.” It added that “the effectiveness of language teaching depends on various factors, including the qualifications, experience, and teaching approach of the instructor, rather than solely on their native speaker status. Therefore, a more inclusive approach that values expertise and diversity in language education may be a wiser policy in promoting effective language learning for all students.”

I have worked with English teachers from specific countries over the years and observed their personalities and levels of professionalism. Additionally, as a member of the hiring team at the university where I currently teach, I have gained insight into job applicants’ educational qualifications and training. As shown in their CVs, some who tried to apply for a teaching position in our university are legitimate and qualified ESL/EFL teachers, but some were hired mainly because of their country of origin. They have been teaching in South Korea for a long time but are not English majors and have not graduated from courses aligned with education and language teaching. If only I could take the liberty to spill (all of) the beans.

It’s puzzling why most universities in South Korea and other Asian countries prefer to hire only native English speakers to teach the language. This practice is a form of discrimination, and, ironically, Asians themselves deny their fellow Asians equal job opportunities. However, I didn’t give up my dream of living and working as an English teacher in South Korea. Some universities here understand that accent and country of origin should not be the criteria for hiring ESL/EFL teachers. I hoped that some universities would prioritize qualifications, training, language proficiency, and pedagogical skills over accent and country of origin when hiring English teachers.

I was right! Although few and far between, some universities in South Korea do not discriminate against non-native English speakers. I sent an application to all of them.  After a challenging application process, a university offered me a teaching contract, even though I am not a “Catherine.”  My dream of living and working in this country became a reality. I have been plying my trade here as an English teacher for over ten years.

If there is something else significant that the movie “Please Teach Me English” taught me, it is understanding more about the  Young-jus and Jang-hyuks and how to deal with them.

Please Teach Me English (2)

K-DREAM

Korean motifs are slowly replacing American imprints in our culture as Filipinos. More and more of my compatriots say annyeonghaseyo instead of hello and gamsahamnida instead of thank youOppa has become a popular endearment for women calling their boyfriends or husbands and telling them saranghaeyo instead of “I love you.” We Filipinos are so enamored of K-pop and K-drama, which have greatly influenced our lives. The youngsters, in particular, embrace the music of their K-pop idols and dress the way they do.

In my country, especially in urban areas, restaurants offer samgyeopsalbibimbap, Korean ramen, and other famous Korean dishes. Products made in South Korea are flooding our supermarkets and grocery stores. It is no longer surprising to find soju sold in sari-sari stores and shared by Filipinos when they dine and wine.

Should we be concerned? Are we losing our Filipino identity? We’re not. Our culture is just entering a new phase of development. Remember that culture is dynamic, never static. It evolves continuously.

It is common knowledge that the ongoing assimilation of Korean influences into our culture was engendered by Hallyu. This phenomenon depicts the popularity of South Korean pop culture, not only in our country but globally. Yes, we’re not the only ones obsessed with Korean cultural content. It was reported that by 2022, there were more or less 177 million  Hallyu fans worldwide.

Hallyu is one of the 26 Korean words added to the Oxford English Dictionary. When translated to English, the word literally means Korean Wave. With the way that this cultural phenomenon struck the world, tsunami, instead of the word wave, would have been a better term. But tsunami is a Japanese word, and given the history of these countries, the word may not rhyme politically.

The gigantic waves of music, TV shows, and movies from the southern portion of the Korean peninsula reached our shores at the turn of the 21st century. Since then, our TV stations have regularly aired many Korean dramas dubbed in Filipino. Korean movies with English or Filipino subtitles are shown in Philippine movie theatres. Magazines and the entertainment sections of newspapers regularly featured K-pop artists and other Korean TV and movie personalities. Before we knew it, the Korean brand had already profoundly penetrated the Filipino consciousness.

Admittedly, I knew little about South Korea before the Korean Wave came. I remember checking the encyclopedia for information about the Korean War when I took World History in college. At that time,  I was researching wars America fought for an article I wrote for our school paper,  and the Korean War from 1950 to 1953 was one of them. Then, I discovered that our country sent troops to help South Koreans ward off the Communist invasion from north of its borders.

Without the help of the United Nations’ international forces, the Korean peninsula might have fallen under Communist rule. The thought that soldiers from my country helped in not allowing that to happen made me feel proud. Imagine this – had it been Kim Jong-un ruling the whole of Korea now (and his father and grandfather in the past), there would have been no Hallyu to talk about. Instead of K-pop and K-drama, the hot topics could have been  K-missile and K-nuke.

Just imagine how dreadful a picture of the war-torn Korean peninsula the things I read about it created in my mind. It was horrible, to say the least. The narrative of the death and destruction was a clear indictment of the futility of war. Those three years were perhaps one of the darkest chapters in the history of South Korea. It was comparable to the three years that my country was under Japanese occupation during the Second World War as well as the period between 1898 and 1901 when the Filipino revolutionaries helplessly fought a war against the much superior American forces who grabbed the Philippine archipelago from the Spaniards.

But before completing my university education, I had another chance to read more about South Korea. That was when the country hosted the 1988 Summer Olympics. The sporting event put the land south of the 38th parallel line all over the news. It triggered my curiosity, prompting me to check not anymore the pages in the encyclopedia about the Korean War but also books written about the country, magazine articles featuring it, and the newspapers covering the Olympics at that time.

I saw a country different from what those pages about the Korean War created in my mind. I discovered that the nation called the “Land of the Morning Calm” rebounded from the horrors of the Korean War and eventually became very progressive. Then I wondered at that time and asked  – “What did the South Koreans do that enabled them to, like the legendary Phoenix, rise from the ashes of a horrendous war and even become only the second country in Asia to host the world’s biggest summer sporting event?” Why could they afford to host such an event that would cost them millions and millions (if not billions) of dollars?

My perception of South Korea changed overnight from a country impoverished, war-stricken, and divided into modern and progressive. The pity I felt for the Koreans when they were ravaged by the war during the early 1950s was replaced by amazement and… envy.

As the years passed, I learned more and more about South Korea through traditional media and the Internet, which eventually became more accessible than when I was a university student. I got to hear more and more Korean music and see more and more Korean dramas.

I will never forget how in 2006, the Korean drama Jewel in The Palace would make me stop whatever I do at night to ensure I see all of it. I was so glued to it. Is it because of the story or the pretty face of Lee Young-ae, the actress who played the role of Jang Geum (the drama’s lead character)? I really don’t know. It may be the setting. I am a student of World History, and the story provides a glimpse of how life was in the Korean peninsula during the Chosun dynasty. The Koreanovelas “Stairway to Heaven,” “Lovers in Paris,” “Winter Sonata,” and “Baker King” were the ones that introduced me to contemporary life and society in South Korea. The first Korean movie I watched was “Please Teach Me English.” The supervisor of the Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) certificate program, which I attended in 2009, recommended it.

These cultural imports from South Korea made me want to visit the country like many Filipinos. I wanted to visit the places in the country that I could only see on TV programs and movies. I wanted to visit Seoul and go to Gangnam and Myeongdong. I wanted to have a summer vacation on the island of Jeju. I wanted to try soju and maekju, and the combination of the two – somaek. I wanted to taste kimchi and eat Korean dishes prepared and served by Korean chefs. I wanted to try tteokbokki, pyo haejangguk, and kalguksu, together with plenty of banchan (side dishes) in a restaurant in South Korea,  not in Korean restaurants or the mall’s food courts in my native land. I wanted to meet actual Korean people and mingle with them. Once, I even jokingly told a friend I wanted to have a Korean girlfriend. In short, I desired to have an authentic Korean experience. My K-dream – “Korean dream” – is taking shape and getting embedded in my consciousness.

That urge strengthened when I decided to take the TESOL certificate program. That was when I  watched my first Korean movie, the one I previously mentioned – “Please Teach Me English.” South Korea was mentioned by the program coordinator as one of the countries considered the premiere destination for ESL teachers. The said movie gave me a glimpse of the state of English education in that country. There’s a scene in that movie where Young-ju, the lead character played by the actress Lee Na-young, could be seen eating a page of an English dictionary, believing that it would improve her vocabulary. That part of the movie embodies how much of a big deal it is to learn English for South Koreans. 

Thus, since teaching abroad is an option in the career path I set for myself, should I have the opportunity to teach overseas, why not in South Korea? My K-dream suddenly evolved, and I no longer just wanted to have an authentic Korean cultural experience but to work there as an English teacher.

Then I did what I had to do for that dream to come true. I completed my training in TESOL, and I left no stone unturned. I searched the Internet for job openings for ESL teachers in South Korea. At that time,  I was also suffering from job burnout. I got physically and emotionally exhausted from my job as a school administrator, and I wanted to return to being a plain teacher.

K-DREAM (Part 2)

K-DREAM (Part 3)

K-DREAM (Part 2)

(Second of 3 Parts)

My initial searches ended in disappointment. All the available positions I saw were open only to citizens of native English-speaking countries. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that such a policy exists. I never thought that “native-speakerism” was real. Why, in a world where only native English speakers would be allowed to teach the English language? I consider that policy illogical and downright discriminatory. If they imposed that policy because of accent, those who created and enforced it have seemingly forgotten that speaking is only one of the four language macro skills. The other three are reading, writing, and listening. An accent is not the be-all and end-all of English language education. Accent itself is only one of the many components of speaking. 

Why most Asian universities hire native English speakers only to teach English is beyond my comprehension. But I did not lose hope. I kept the faith and clung to the belief that some universities in South Korea think Filipinos like me and other nationalities could teach English with the necessary qualifications and training. These universities understand that accent should not be the sole basis for hiring ESL teachers but should be language knowledge and pedagogical skills. It is also impossible that no university in South Korea knows that many South Koreans are studying (or have studied) English in my country. So, I kept searching for openings for ESL teachers.

It turned out that I was right. Some tertiary institutions in South Korea hire qualified ESL teachers from any country, particularly from the Philippines. My persistence eventually paid off. My wish was granted, and I was allowed to live my  K-dream when a university hired me as a teacher.

So, off to South Korea, I flew in 2013.

As soon as I exited Gimhae Airport, I started having that authentic Korean experience that I dreamt of going through. The early spring weather giving me an icy cold welcome got it going. In a few minutes, while walking toward the bus that would bring us to Gyeongju city, I realized how insufficient my clothes were against the cold. That moment I fully understood the meaning of the phrasal verb bundle up. But the chilly breeze could not dislodge my excitement at the thought that my dream was coming to fruition. Even when homesickness started to creep in, I would remind myself that I came to South Korea to pursue my  K-dream, a dream that was slowly becoming a reality.

As days and weeks passed, I gradually immersed myself in the country’s culture. I was no longer just watching the people of my host country on the TV, the silver screen, and the Internet. It’s no longer a Korean drama I was watching, but it’s real Korean life I was witnessing and actually experiencing… from reel to real. I got what I wanted.

I started mingling with real Korean people – men and women in flesh and blood, not fictional characters. I saw that, indeed, their skin is silky white, and they are taller, on average, than Filipinos. I became a friend to many of them. I talked and laughed with them. I dined with them, drank their wine and beer, ate their kimchi and delicious dishes, and started speaking (a little) of their language.

I witnessed their way of life and even adopted some parts of it. I saw what was inside their houses, churches, other religious temples, theatres, bars, restaurants, and coffee shops. I have entered their museums, watched cultural shows in their theatres, watched movies in their cinemas, strolled in their parks, worked out in their gyms, and hiked in their mountains. 

I could also probe their character through daily encounters with my Korean students, colleagues, and friends. I confirmed that just like what I saw in their dramas, South Koreans fall in love, get angry, feel sad and happy, and suffer from anxiety and stress. In short, just like me or any average human being from any part of the world, they also ride the roller coaster of emotions.

They have strengths and weaknesses too, and they are not faultless… like me. Anyway, nobody is.

Like me and my fellow Filipinos, they get mad at corrupt politicians. Like us, they march to the streets and let their government, and sometimes their employers, hear their dissatisfaction and grievances. I noticed that the South Koreans, compared to Filipinos, protest more orderly and civilly.

Yes, they also have fears and uncertainties. Additionally, just like me and anyone else, they have dreams and ambitions too. They have plans and a vision of a good life in the future for themselves and their families. Just like normal humans, they fear death, sickness, and failure. Those who embrace religion among them pray and seek God’s love, grace, and mercy.

I thought my K-dream was already complete with all those experiences and discoveries. I was wrong.

As I lived and worked in South Korea longer, I discovered that their prosperity is not a myth. Those things I saw in Korean dramas and movies that indicate that their country is progressive and modernized are not figments of the imagination, and they are not just props in their films. Their provinces, cities, and towns are effectively interconnected by impressive highway systems that I wish we could also have in my country of origin. More and more items get included in my “wish list.”  I want our telecom companies to provide Internet connectivity as fast as South Korea’s. We should be able also to download a movie in less than a minute or a little more.

With all these additional discoveries, I could not help but compare this country to mine. I could not help but envy the South Koreans for what they have accomplished as a nation. As I stayed here longer, my wish list grew longer. How I wish that in my country, packages could be left in front of our doors, even for days, not fearing that somebody would steal them. How I wish that we could also call the police to stop noisy neighbors who, even when it’s midnight already, would still sing their lungs out with the volume of their karaoke maxed. How I wish that politicians found by the law guilty of wrongdoings, particularly corruption and malversation of public funds, would no longer have the gall to run for reelection.

I realized that my K-dream still needed to be completed. It actually expanded. I dream that Filipinos will take research as seriously and meticulously as Koreans do one day. To them, research is a huge deal. Whatever advances in the different fields of science and technology they have achieved could be attributed to their obsession with research. Consequently, their electrical and electronic products, heavy equipment and machinery, passengers and cargo ships, and cars are sought after in the world market. The list of world-class products that they export is long. The reason for this is that they prioritize research. What about us in the Philippines? Where do we put research in the list of our priorities? Unfortunately, we don’t consider research as seriously as the South Koreans do. That’s the sad reality. I even remember one senator giving one particular department in our executive branch of the government a tongue-lashing during a senate hearing because that department allotted a lot of its budget for research purposes.

Whatever metrics I used for the comparison, it was a mismatch with South Korea always ending up on top after all the comparative analyses I performed except for this – my country has a younger population where the median age is less than 26 years, and for this country, it’s been more than 40 years. But overall,  South Korea is much ahead of my native land. The superiority of this country will become more glaring should I cite other categories like life expectancy, GDP, and international ranking of universities.

As an academician, I turn green-eyed, seeing South Korea has at least five universities constantly landing among the top 100 in the world annually. Why can’t the universities in my country break into even just the top 400? I know the answer – research. One of the criteria used in determining the annual ranking of world universities is how often their faculty members publish in indexed journals. The lower the rank of a university, the lesser it prioritizes research. In addition, South Korean students perform better in Math and Science than my country’s youth.

If there is any consolation, Filipinos are more proficient in English than South Koreans. But does it matter if we are better at English?  Does it make my country more prosperous? The answer is obvious – NO. No direct correlation exists between a country’s English proficiency and economic performance.

My country also has a lower suicide rate. But is that something that we Filipinos could crow about? We say that rarely do Filipinos commit suicide. But we do something worse than taking our own lives, and that is selling our votes during elections. By doing so, we don’t harm our bodies but our dreams and future as a nation. We put the destiny of our children and our country in the hands of wolves in sheep’s clothing or alligators wearing tuxedos. We unwittingly put the reins of our government in the hands of corrupt politicians, thereby killing, again, not ourselves but the possibility of having competent leaders who could lead our country to prosperity and greatness.

There were politicians in South Korea who, after being accused of engaging in corruption or any wrongdoing, committed suicide. Shame and disgrace were too much for them to bear, and this is never heard of in the Philippines. Instead of taking their own lives (or at least retiring from politics), you will find politicians accused (and found guilty) of stealing from the national coffers while running for reelection. And the wonder of wonders –  they still win.

PART THREE

K-DREAM (Part 1)

(First of 3 Parts)

Korean motifs are slowly replacing American imprints in our culture as Filipinos. More and more of my compatriots say annyeonghaseyo instead of hello and gamsahamnida instead of thank you. Oppa has become a popular endearment for women calling their boyfriends or husbands and telling them saranghaeyo instead of “I love you.” We Filipinos are so enamored of K-pop and K-drama, which have greatly influenced our lives. The youngsters, in particular, embrace the music of their K-pop idols and dress the way they do.

In my country, especially in urban areas, restaurants offer samgyeopsal, bibimbap, Korean ramen, and other famous Korean dishes. Products made in South Korea are flooding our supermarkets and grocery stores. It is no longer surprising to find soju sold in sari-sari stores and shared by Filipinos when they dine and wine.

Should we be concerned? Are we losing our Filipino identity? We’re not. Our culture is just entering a new phase of development. Remember that culture is dynamic, never static. It evolves continuously.

It is common knowledge that Hallyu engendered the ongoing assimilation of Korean influences into our culture. This phenomenon depicts the popularity of South Korean pop culture, not only in our country but globally. Yes, we’re not the only ones obsessed with Korean cultural content. It was reported that by 2022, there were more or less 177 million  Hallyu fans worldwide.

Hallyu is one of the 26 Korean words added to the Oxford English Dictionary. When translated to English, the word literally means Korean Wave. With the way that this cultural phenomenon struck the world, tsunami, instead of the word wave, would have been a better term. But tsunami is a Japanese word, and given the history of these countries, the word may not rhyme politically.

The gigantic waves of music, TV shows, and movies from the southern portion of the Korean peninsula reached our shores at the turn of the 21st century. Since then, our TV stations have regularly aired many Korean dramas dubbed in Filipino. Korean movies with English or Filipino subtitles are shown in Philippine movie theatres. Magazines and the entertainment sections of newspapers regularly featured K-pop artists and other Korean TV and movie personalities. Before we knew it, the Korean brand had already profoundly penetrated the Filipino consciousness.

Admittedly, I knew little about South Korea before the Korean Wave came. I remember checking the encyclopedia for information about the Korean War when I took World History in college. At that time,  I was researching wars America fought for an article I wrote for our school paper,  and the Korean War from 1950 to 1953 was one of them. Then, I discovered that our country sent troops to help South Koreans ward off the Communist invasion from north of its borders.

Without the help of the United Nations’ international forces, the Korean peninsula might have fallen under Communist rule. The thought that soldiers from my country helped in not allowing that to happen made me feel proud. Imagine this – had it been Kim Jong-un ruling the whole of Korea now (and his father and grandfather in the past), there would have been no Hallyu to talk about. Instead of K-pop and K-drama, the hot topics could have been  K-missile and K-nuke.

Just imagine how dreadful a picture of the war-torn Korean peninsula the things I read about it created in my mind. It was horrible, to say the least. The narrative of the death and destruction was a clear indictment of the futility of war. Those three years were perhaps one of the darkest chapters in the history of South Korea. It was comparable to the three years that my country was under Japanese occupation during the Second World War, as well as the period between 1898 and 1901 when the Filipino revolutionaries helplessly fought a war against the much superior American forces who grabbed the Philippine archipelago from the Spaniards.

However, before completing my university education, I had another chance to read more about South Korea. That was when the country hosted the 1988 Summer Olympics. The sporting event put the land south of the 38th parallel line all over the news. It triggered my curiosity, prompting me to check not only the pages in the encyclopedia about the Korean War but also books written about the country, magazine articles featuring it, and the newspapers covering the Olympics at that time.

I saw a country different from what those pages about the Korean War created in my mind. I discovered that the nation called the “Land of the Morning Calm” rebounded from the horrors of the Korean War and eventually became very progressive. Then I wondered at that time and asked  – “What did the South Koreans do that enabled them to, like the legendary Phoenix, rise from the ashes of a horrendous war and even become only the second country in Asia to host the world’s biggest summer sporting event?” Why could they afford to host such an event that would cost them millions and millions (if not billions) of dollars?

My perception of South Korea changed overnight from a country impoverished, war-stricken, and divided into modern and progressive. The pity I felt for the Koreans when they were ravaged by the war during the early 1950s was replaced by amazement and… envy.

As the years passed, I learned more and more about South Korea through traditional media and the Internet, which eventually became more accessible than when I was a university student. I got to hear more and more Korean music and see more and more Korean dramas.

I will never forget how in 2006, the Korean drama Jewel in The Palace would make me stop whatever I do at night to ensure I see all of it. I was so glued to it. Is it because of the story or the pretty face of Lee Young-ae, the actress who played the role of Jang Geum (the drama’s lead character)? I really don’t know. It may be the setting. I am a student of World History, and the story provides a glimpse of how life was in the Korean peninsula during the Chosun dynasty. The Koreanovelas “Stairway to Heaven,” “Lovers in Paris,” “Winter Sonata,” and “Baker King” were the ones that introduced me to contemporary life and society in South Korea. The first Korean movie I watched was “Please Teach Me English.” The supervisor of the Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) certificate program, which I attended in 2009, recommended it.

These cultural imports from South Korea made me want to visit the country like many Filipinos. I wanted to visit the places in the country that I could only see on TV programs and movies. I wanted to visit Seoul and go to Gangnam and Myeongdong. I wanted to have a summer vacation on the island of Jeju. I wanted to try soju and maekju, and the combination of the two – somaek. I wanted to taste kimchi and eat Korean dishes prepared and served by Korean chefs. I wanted to try tteokbokki, pyo haejangguk, and kalguksu, together with plenty of banchan (side dishes) in a restaurant in South Korea,  not in Korean restaurants or the mall’s food courts in my native land. I wanted to meet actual Korean people and mingle with them. Once, I even jokingly told a friend I wanted to have a Korean girlfriend. In short, I desired to have an authentic Korean experience. My K-dream – “Korean dream” – is taking shape and getting embedded in my consciousness.

That urge strengthened when I decided to take the TESOL certificate program. That was when I  watched my first Korean movie, the one I previously mentioned – “Please Teach Me English.” South Korea was mentioned by the program coordinator as one of the countries considered the premiere destination for ESL teachers. The said movie gave me a glimpse of the state of English education in that country. There’s a scene in that movie where Young-ju, the lead character played by the actress Lee Na-young, could be seen eating a page of an English dictionary, believing that it would improve her vocabulary. That part of the movie embodies how much of a big deal it is to learn English for South Koreans. 

Thus, since teaching abroad is an option in the career path I set for myself, should I have the opportunity to teach overseas, why not in South Korea? My K-dream suddenly evolved, and I no longer just wanted to have an authentic Korean cultural experience but to work there as an English teacher.

Then I did what I had to do for that dream to come true. I completed my training in TESOL, and I left no stone unturned. I searched the Internet for job openings for ESL teachers in South Korea. At that time,  I was also suffering from job burnout. I got physically and emotionally exhausted from my job as a school administrator, and I wanted to return to being a plain teacher.

K-Dream (Part 2)

The Jokers In The Academe

(A Personal Essay)

I have been a teacher since Seoul hosted the Summer Olympics. It has been a long journey filled with ups and downs, joys and sorrows. I don’t regret anything I have undergone as a teacher, and I could say that I triumphed over all the difficulties and pains because I wouldn’t have lasted this long in the academe if not.

I worked in 8 schools in the Philippines, 6 as a full-timer and 2 as a part-timer. Here in South Korea, where I teach now, is my second university. I stayed a year in the first one, and now I’m on my way to completing my tenth year, where I transferred.

Return to the previous paragraph and count the academic institutions I worked in.

How many?

That’s two short of a dozen.

In those schools, I met different kinds of students, administrators, and – teachers… the best and the worst.

This essay deals with teachers I call “jokers in the academe.” But just to be clear – the majority of those I worked with are professionals who love and respect the profession of teaching. It was a pleasure working with them. The jokers I am referring to are the few rotten ones in a crate of apples.

My experience with the “jokers” taught me to have a great deal of patience. There were times when I lost that patience and locked horns with them. During my first few years here in South Korea, I tried to keep quiet for a couple of years, just watching these recipients of the fallacy that “if you’re good at English, you can be a teacher of English.” Yes, you need to be patient when encountering jokers among your colleagues. They aren’t funny at all. They are annoying. But in one meeting, my thread of patience snapped. I said enough is enough. I started telling colleagues who were unnecessarily noisy to shut up.

I am not saying I am a perfect teacher; far from it. I still have lots to improve. At least I have been trying my best to conform to the evolving professional standards for teachers.

Most importantly, I am not a joker. I would never be. As an expat teacher, I feel like being appraised not only as a teacher but as a citizen of my country. I don’t like to be the reason people ask – “Is this the kind of teacher Teacher Education Institutions in the Philippines produce?”

In this personal essay, I would play BATMAN and let me unmask the “JOKER.”

Who might these jokers be?

One of those that I classify as jokers is the “super dependents.”The “super dependents” are teachers who will not solve their problems. They expect their colleagues to do that for them. They are the ones who hate exerting extra effort to find a solution to whatever bugs them. Their sense of entitlement is so strong that they think it is the duty of people around them to help them escape a difficult situation.

What these jokers consider as problems are not problems to begin with.

For example – the school requires teachers to apply new technology in the classroom. That, for them, is a contentious issue. They would try to dip their hands deep into their bag of reasons to justify their non-compliance.

You would hear the lamest excuses like “My training as an educator did not include applying those technologies.”

Really!?

Another excuse, lame also, is “It’s labor-intensive.”

They want things to be given to them on a silver platter. They would never go the extra mile.

They are like square pegs in round holes. No explanation would make them buy the idea that being a 21st-century teacher teaching 21st-century learners would require learning 21st-century skills.

These jokers don’t understand that part of their responsibility as educators – if they really consider themselves educators – is to retool and retrain, if necessary, to cope with the demands of what has become a technology-driven pedagogy used by 21st-century teachers.

They should not subscribe to the idea that “old dogs can’t learn new tricks” because they are not dogs. They’re human beings who are supposed to be rational.

Are they?

Anyway, let’s talk about dogs.

They bark, right?

Some of the jokers in the academe are like dogs. They bark a lot.

I call them the “barkers.”

These jokers bark about their disagreement with school policies and what they perceive as incompetence among the “people upstairs.” They are the eternal fault-finders who see nothing but negative in the organization. They live to seek the “tiny black in an ocean of white.” For them, nothing is right. Everything is wrong.

They complain day and night, but not when they go to the ATM during payday.

Do they deserve their pay? Are they doing their job? Only they and their students could tell.

Yes, there are times when they have valid reasons to disagree. But what is frustrating is that they bark up the wrong tree. They don’t address their concerns to the right people at the right place and time. They grandstand during meetings wasting their colleagues’ precious time. They force them to listen to their misguided eloquence. Sometimes they also write long unsolicited e-mails where they express their grievances. They don’t understand that not everybody in the organization shares their opinion about the policies and their school administrators.

The funny thing is these jokers bark, but they don’t bite.

They do nothing about their complaints except bark about them. But when the administrators responsible for implementing the policies they disagree with are present in meetings, they are very quiet, silent in one corner of the room, wagging their tails.

These jokers curse the school and their administrators at every opportunity they have. They tell everybody that the school where they are is the worst place to be. Yet at the end of the school year, they (let me use these words again) wag their tails as they sign their names on the dotted lines for a contract extension.

See… they whine and whing at every opportunity about policies, imperfections of the organization, and what have you. Still, the following school year, I saw them again, and as usual, whining and whinging.

They say in broad daylight, “This organization sucks.” But they remain. Why? Is it because they have no other place to go? That’s just a guess. Another guess… they won’t be able to find another university that pays as much as where we are working now.

I may be wrong.

I call the next category of jokers “Don Quixotes.”

Don Quixote, in case you’ve forgotten (or have not heard or read about him), is a fictional character introduced to the world by the Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes through his epic novel, “The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha.”

The “Don Quixotes” are the ones who do not understand that when changes are implemented and policies get tweaked by employers, the employees should not take it personally. Changes in the workplace happen when they are due. It is something inevitable. It is frustrating when the jokers cannot or refuse to understand if the management wants to exercise their prerogatives; whether the people downstairs want it or not, they could and would.

When in one meeting, a colleague stood and gave a long speech against a policy our university was about to implement, I felt obliged to cordially beg him to stop his litany because whatever he was saying then would all be in vain. Additionally, I told him that he was just unnecessarily prolonging the meeting and wasting my time and that of those uninterested in what he was saying. I also advised him that if he wanted, he should set an appointment with the university officials and tell them about his protestations… or sue the university. That Don Quixote did not realize they could not force anybody to join their cause, especially those who consider changes necessary and inevitable. What they were trying to do at that time was force everybody in the room (and sometimes in group chats) to listen to (and read) their whinges and whines.

Expat teachers who think they could dissuade their employers who hired them from making the changes the former wants to implement are as delusional as Don Quixote. We could possibly do it in our own countries. But in a country where we are foreigners and work on a contractual basis, it’s a QUIXOTIC endeavor. It’s like “fighting the windmills.”

These “Don Quixotes” thought that their braggadocio was admirable. It is not. It’s irritating. What makes it more irritating is, just like the jokers called “barkers,” they kept accepting the extension of contracts the university offered them. They keep serving the institution whose policies they don’t find acceptable. Why? Can you guess? Why can’t they just keep quiet, do their work, and enjoy the “dough.”

The last category of jokers in my list are those who applied (and luckily got hired) as teachers, even if they are not “really” qualified and trained for the profession.

They are the ones I call the “pretenders.”

Yeah, they pretend to be teachers.

These jokers applied as teachers because there were no other jobs available, especially in the countries where they come from. Given their qualifications and capabilities, I doubt it very much if they will get hired as teachers in their own countries. They are very fortunate (and the students are unfortunate) that they hurdled interviews in Asian countries and were recommended for hiring. That’s why I do not like the “no teaching demo” approach to hiring teacher applicants.

Among these jokers are English teachers who thought they could be English teachers because they can speak the language. In one of my essays, I emphasized that it doesn’t mean that when you know something, you can already teach it. “If you know it, you can teach it” is a fallacy.

Knowing a subject matter is different from knowing how to teach it. The former is only one of the many requirements for the latter.

“Real teachers,” those not pretending to be one, know what it takes to be a teacher. Teaching is not parroting the contents of the book. It’s not delivering a monologue in front of the students.

Teachers must choose the best strategy to use in the class from various available strategies. They have to set objectives and test if those objectives are met. They need to differentiate the levels of their students and identify the corresponding techniques and activities suitable for those levels.

“Real teachers” know what philosophy would inform whatever they do and say in the class. They know which sociological, psychological, historical, and legal foundations they would base all their decisions on as teachers.

It means that a teacher’s job is so complicated that “not just anybody” should be allowed to teach. And when a school commits the mistake of hiring applicants who are not trained to be teachers, expect them to become the jokers in the academe.

In the academe, most of those who complain a lot – those who create a lot of trouble – are the ones who are not really trained to become teachers. These jokers are the ones who seemed to be lost in the wilderness, not knowing what to do and how to do things in the academe. They are the ones who would blame others when they encounter difficulties and can’t figure out how to deal with them.

The common trait among these jokers is that they want everything given to them on a silver platter. You need to explain to them in detail (and repetitively) how to perform tasks that teachers are supposedly trained to do. Sometimes they would even require their colleagues to do things for them. They would not bother learning how to do it.

Beware of the jokers in the academe. They’re not funny.

These jokers could be many or but a few in schools everywhere.

A voice within kept telling me not to mind the jokers in the academe. I did so, but not for long. It became too difficult for me to hold my horses when I heard the “non-performing” barkers whine and whing so persistently. It’s so difficult to just turn a blind eye (and a deaf ear) to what they are doing (and saying) all the time. I had to say my piece – through this personal essay.

What’s dangerous is that they are contagious. They contaminate the working environment. They have the ability to flip the organizational climate from positive to negative.

So, beware of the jokers. Avoid them like a plague.

These crying babies are not cute. Don’t babysit them.

On Why Most Asian Universities Hire Native English Speakers Only To Teach English

The career path I set for myself includes teaching English overseas. It was one of the divergent roads I was ready to take if I ever found myself standing at a fork, needing to decide on my academic career. That came when, after many years as a school administrator, I suffered from severe job burnout. I revisited my career path and finally applied to be an ESL teacher abroad.

I searched for job openings in China, Japan, and South Korea. According to my TESOL trainer, the said countries are considered premiere destinations for ESL teachers. They offer the best package of remuneration and benefits. My preferred destination was South Korea, although I also sent applications to universities in the Middle East.

My initial search for ESL positions in South Korea ended in disappointment. Universities offered job openings only to citizens of native English-speaking countries. It means that if you’re not an American, British, Canadian, Australian, Irish, South African, or New Zealander, you may not apply. Even universities in China and Japan prefer hiring (or hiring only) citizens from the said countries.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that such a policy exists. Why, in a world where only native English speakers would be allowed to teach the English language? Isn’t that policy (of hiring native English speakers only) discriminatory? That was when I realized that “native-speakerism” is real. Adrian Holliday coined the term, and it refers to a form of discrimination or bias where preference or privilege is given to native speakers of a language over non-native speakers.

Exclusively hiring applicants from native English-speaking countries discriminates against individuals not coming from those parts of the world, even if they are highly proficient in the language. It deprives them of “equal job opportunities.”

Isn’t the said policy racist? It is! Why? Any practice that directly or indirectly excludes a particular group of people because of a specific cultural nuance is racist. Accent is the cultural nuance that is the main reason for implementing this policy. For this reason, Adrian Holliday created the construct of native-speakerism and classified it as a neo-racist ideology.

However, despite my initial disappointments, I did not lose hope and continued searching for job openings for ESL teachers in South Korea. I kept the faith and clung to the belief that there are universities in the said country that believe that any individual who has the necessary qualification and training, regardless of nationality, race, and color of skin,  should be given the opportunity to prove they are capable of teaching the English language.

It turned out I was right. Some universities in South Korea uphold the right of any individual to work and employment without discrimination, a right enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (Articles 2 and 23). 

I did not beg to be employed as an ESL teacher. I only wanted a chance to have my credentials evaluated and my capabilities as an English teacher adequately appraised. Thankfully, some universities believe that teaching the English language is not a right exclusive to those citizens from the countries mentioned earlier. They accepted my application, and eventually, I landed a teaching job at one of them. I am now on my way to completing my 11th year here in South Korea.

Most universities in this country (and elsewhere in Asia) are standing firm on their policy to hire only native English speakers to teach the English language. Check advertisements for ESL jobs, and you’ll see how unabashedly these universities would include the note “Only Native English speakers may apply.” The primary reason for this is accent. Native English speakers, of course, have a natural and native-like pronunciation. But let’s not forget that speaking is only one of the four language macro skills. Language learning also involves reading, writing, and listening. An accent is only one of the many components of speaking.

The policy to hire English teachers exclusively from native English-speaking countries has created the impression among Asian students that only teachers from those countries can teach English. So, whenever I entered my ESL classes at the beginning of the semester, some of my students, seeing that I am a short Asian with dark skin and not the tall blond native English speaker they expected their teacher to be, would look surprised. I feel like they wanted to ask me, “Why are you here?” There were times that I cracked this joke, “My name is James Bond (mimicking the way Sean Connery speaks), I am the driver of your ESL teacher. He got injured, so I have to take his place temporarily for the entire semester.” That elicited laughs (from those who understood the joke.)

The policy also made them equate English proficiency to being able to sound like native English speakers. It made them think that the primary goal in English language learning is the acquisition of accents.

In learning any language, including English, the primary goal is not accent acquisition but to become proficient in speaking, listening, reading, and writing in the target language. Accent alone does not indicate proficiency in the language. Language proficiency encompasses various aspects, including vocabulary, grammar, comprehension, fluency, and the ability to effectively communicate ideas.

What I consider an obstacle in language learning is the students’ thinking that its primary goal is accent acquisition. It is a fallacy that I have always tried to rectify in my classes. Acquiring an accent is a desirable learning outcome but is not required for successful language acquisition. As previously mentioned, the primary goal of language acquisition is practical communication and comprehension rather than achieving a native-like accent. I told them that English is spoken with various accents worldwide, and no “correct” accent exists. The clarity in communication matters most – being understood by others and understanding them in return.

My advice to my student is to put accent acquisition last on their list of priorities. They must focus first on general language proficiency rather than developing a specific accent. Focusing on general language proficiency means emphasizing correct grammar, vocabulary, pronunciation (using the International Phonetic Alphabet as a guide), and overall language fluency. I always remind them that general language proficiency covers speaking, writing, listening, and reading. 

It is illogical to assume that being a native English speaker automatically makes someone a competent English teacher. Language teaching requires more than native-like pronunciation. It involves overall language proficiency, pedagogical skills, and knowledge of the language taught.

It’s about time that universities eliminate native-speakerism from their system. They must adopt a policy of hiring teachers with strong English language skills, relevant qualifications, and teaching experiences regardless of their nationality. Ironically, the ones practicing native-speakerism are universities in Asia. They don’t believe their fellow Asians are qualified and capable English teachers. It is sad to say that they discriminate against their fellow Asians.

Asian universities must hire English teachers based on non-discriminative standards. They must open their doors to both native and non-native English-speaking teachers. By doing so, they will be promoting diversity, inclusivity, and a more comprehensive approach to language teaching. Hiring teachers from a wide range of cultural and linguistic backgrounds can bring diverse teaching perspectives and experiences into the classroom, resulting in a more enriched learning environment that benefits the students. The policy of not exclusively hiring native English-speaking teachers ensures that all qualified applicants are given equal opportunities. Job descriptions should not be crafted to inadvertently exclude a particular group of people and effectively prevent them from seeking the position.