How to Be Successful in Teaching Each Year

Working in Japan as an EFL teacher is by no means an easy task. Besides the tedious aspects of planning, delivering, and grading, your educator experience will be a whirlwind of everything from winded gasps to unforeseen gaffes. Though each should give us pause, there are some who seem to float by, feeling their teaching is unflawed and with little room for improvement. Wherever one finds their self on the wide, subjective spectrum of teacher identity, we can always find comfort in the words of Professor John Keating (aka Robin Williams), "There’s a time for daring and there’s a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for."

Long gone are the days when a foreigner was hired to positions simply because, well, they spoke "native English". The last decade alone showed several signs of universities (and even K-12) insitutions leveling up their hiring and subsequent evaluation practices. There really is no golden ticket except for the one you work hard and build for. Therefore, no matter how formidable one might feel their teachinig craft, it would be a mistake to assume that others around them share the same exact sentiment. The field of education is indeed an all-encompassing one, leading both students and teachers down a remarkable path of adventure. It begins with an innocence which cannot be faked, progresses through struggles of mind and heart, and pulls us towards self-reflection on a very personal path. Or so it should ...

This blog post is written for 2 types of instructors. Those who may sense that their practice is in need of an approach, a more cohesive perspective to help them be on point and connect with students. And, for those who may feel they are one of the godly gifted who have mastered their craft and things seem to run 'smoothly' if not the exact same year in and year out.

Living in Japan for 15 plus years, I realized that one of the aspects of Japanese society that are most endearing to me is the sort of founded respect bestowed readily upon all individuals. Not only at the outset but also over a considerably long grace period. Even if a person does not regularly conform to the standards by which most adhere in daily life, that individual remains a part of the collective until further notice (aka indefinitely).

Such consideration goes a long way in making a good day turn into weeks, weeks into years, and otherwise a pretty long solid social life. I use this example of Japanese refinement when viewing my own teaching from time to time, or even lesson to lesson during the semesters. My intention is to ask and reflect on the social side of things, to gauge how comfortable students are with my explanations, the challenges, and discussing both within an amenable atmosphere. Questions include: "How did the students seem during my lecture?", "Was my explanation (in any language) effective and also easy to connect to the tasks?", "Was my teaching approach one that they can be comfortable with?", "Could they produce the intended skill and/or reflect actively on the new themes/language/skills?", and most importantly "Am I adhering to the same social standards students are acclimated to and expecting?"

Though these may seem like scattered shots in the dark, each tie to one very important notion in language education - social constructivism. If the answers are "yes" to all of them, the atmosphere will be lighter, students more discussive, and motivation and production more resilient. If the answers to most of these are "no", I guarantee that a dull silence, confusion, and/or a lot of Japanese talk just to try to grasp at some of what the lecturer intended.

Similar to how we must not, cannot, let our students fall into a stagnancy to the extent their progress is no longer visible, teachers should also keep themselves to an observable standard of evaluation. This does not mean a teach to the test for (superficially resounding) results, neither am I suggesting a make them laugh and grade as easy as possible style. Rather, I say it is one's sturdy indignation which ought to be the foundation upon which one's teaching position stands. And the first step begins with an objective look at self and all therein.

It takes years to develop into a professional to the point that your distinguished qualities are immediately recognized and respected. I am not referring to the word "pro" in a casual sense. Rather, I am stating that one cannot claim that title simply on knowing the ropes of the classroom (or university) or regurgitating content (lecture) with basic ease. Such a "pro" may typify a person who is fluid, rehearsed, and very organized in procedure - surely all of which are important traits/steps towards the professional path. Even to reach such an initial level can be an enormous challenge. Yet reaching that initial summit does not justify a top-down, authoritarian perspective. Nor should you subsequently look at yourself less discriminatingly or avert from introspective practices that may help you achieve deeper, more inclusive viewpoints.

There are 3 facets I believe are strongly related to effective teaching and which can help you form the basis of an authentic professional path you may ascribe to.

1. Know your audience while knowing your tendencies: the first half "know your audience" is well-documented and usually foreshadowed by "how you interact with them". However, focus on the latter because our verbal and mental tendencies are the precursor of student reactivity. Those very much engrained within a deeper construct of self, these build-up behaviors have likely become loosely hanging constructs that do not serve a purpose much anymore (let alone have a place in the classroom). To demonstrate what I mean, I pose a question that is most likely relevant to Western-born or Western-educated instructors. It is this ... "Do you feel (or know) that there is basically only one right way for students to progress in your class?" Before your ego suggests a snarky retort, really ask the question back to yourself in your head. If it feels like you automatically critique the generality/obscurity of the question, just let it churn for a minute or two. With the utmost objectivity, do you find that your lessons are unnecessarily: multiply faceted, layered with contingencies, or otherwise at risk of stringing students along? Should you have some or many "yes" feelings, continue connecting the dots as you move through the next two points of reflection.

2. Think, rethink, abandon in fear, transcend yourself: it is all too easy to form a perspective. Take any issue or news topic and you can spin it around a few times to find the right and wrong of it. Then, trusting your deeply seated beliefs you can not only form logic to support a foundation of fact, but also figure in justification for its rightness. Yet, for the sake of upstanding ethical responsiveness to our students, one must take a few steps back and see the lesson presented. Once again, I will allow myself to pose a few questions to you, the zen master of the temple. Do the steps taken in your initial planning lead to (or reflect) the desired end results? Or are students repeatedly striving for aims that always seem to be just out of reach? If there are any disparities within your aim-approach of supporting students in their learning experience, I recommend you to think, rethink, abandon, and transcend as quickly and as much as possible. After all, our first and foremost duty as educators is to create opportunities for meaningful learning, application, and growth. When I first questioned my thinking about education, specifically the top-down Western-centric education that rewards and punishes in rigid manners, it became easy to dislike my teaching self. Subsequently, after rethinking things like student expectations, teaching success, and the ways I purport to excel, I began to lose my scruples in scary but positive ways. As I forced myself to hold my fear (it was almost like there was no choice but to ...) I felt a small transcendence taking place. Put in my students' shoes, I was able to question even the smallest aspects of 'my' lessons - those which I wrongly assumed were unwavering facets of good teaching.

3. Attune to the unattainable: as objectively as possible, we must raise our standards by a measure which most of us were not taught ... critical self-reflection. Yes, we must question the teacher, "Hey, teacher! Leave those kids alone!!" and look to our own dark side of the moon. Surely, the challenges we face in a foreign language classroom are known and all too easily complain-able. These may also form a sharp shiny shovel easy to use and dig into what could be considered as barren landscapes. For many, they see these challenges as objects which should be conquered through elimination rather than as people (or identities) we should understand through contemplation. Though I may sound like a preacher from a pulpit, as a fellow human being and "professional" in the field, I hope you aspire to grow. To reach for the unattainable, attune to the frequencies you have not listened to before. And grow with constant reflection, humility, and consideration for those you teach and learn with.

At first encounter of your Japan-based teaching career path, if you had known that one or more crossroads would present indescribable life-changing experiences, would you have continued down that path? The answer, of course, is an unequivocal "YES!". Similar to how the challenge and change associated with life abroad is a major appeal, we must remember that our students feel the same way. They (not all, but many) are looking for a new path to survive and thrive on.

Whether you accept the above-mentioned advice or try following it as three steps to continual success, I hope you discover a more refined approach in your personal and professional self. May your students become the group to which you flock, rather than the other way around.