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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.”
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.
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 