Öğrencilerim

As a friend and teacher once put it in jest, “Let the sweetness of English drip from your lips like honey from a comb.”

Here are some of my students, who taught me about their lives while I was only able to teach them about my language.

Some students from my first class in Istanbul, left to right: Hacer, myself, Firat, Esra and Kezban.

The survivors of Level 2 with Matt and Jonathon, left to right: Ali, Burhan, Gamze, Hasibe, me, Gurcan, Gulcan and in the front, Yunus Emre.

Taylor and I with my former student Sencer and his girlfriend Elif at Bab-i-Ali cafe.

Taylor and I having breakfast with Halil, former student and contributor to this blog, having breakfast in Emirgan Grove.

Taylor and I with one of our favorite classes, which we were both fortunate to teach. From left to right: unknown, Gulcan, Saime, Nuray, Esra, Me, Taylor, Fatih, Ayfer, Fahad and Mustafa.

Now you’re speaking my language, part 2

Sometimes, you don’t want to be right. For me, this is one of those cases.

A while back, I wrote a post on this blog about teaching English and learning Turkish at the same time. You can read it here. In it, I praise Turkish people for being overwhelmingly patient with me as I struggle to learn their language. They inherently understand that Turkish is not an easy language for foreigners to learn and that it cannot happen over night, or in my case, over eight months. But, slow and steady progress is acceptable. Not once have I ever had someone become angry with me as I struggle to voice my thoughts. Instead, the more I struggle, the more helpful people seem to become.

Also in that post, I asked the question: Would it be the same if I sent my beginning English students to America? Would people treat them with the same patience, respect and understanding that I receive here? I asserted then, and still assert now, that no, they would not. Americans do not understand the daunting challenge that our language presents to foreigners. People don’t allow for a grace period of learning English and most seem to expect that the second you step on our soil, you should have our language. This misunderstanding leads to hostility in many places. This hostility, if anything, leads foreigners to be even more reluctant in learning and speaking English and can isolate them into their own community.

I argued this point with a family member recently who disagreed with me. But today, the evidence is in my favor. A republican gubernatorial candidate in Alabama, Tim James, recently released this advertisement. In it, he begins, “I’m Tim James. Why do our politicians make us give drivers’ license exams in 12 languages? This is Alabama, we speak English. If you want to live here, learn it.”

He continues to say that “We are only giving that test in English if I’m governor.”

Finally, he concludes “Maybe it’s the businessman in me, but we’ll save money. And it makes sense. Does it to you?”

Well, no Tim, it doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe it’s the non-racist ESL teacher in me, but I think you should have a little more consideration for the time and effort it takes to learn English. The more supportive and understanding a community is about language learning, the more it encourages people to learn. The more divisive and hostile the environment, the more reluctant people will be. People like you, Tim, are counterproductive, not conducive, to this process.

That being said, I can attest to the intelligence and commitment it takes to learn English. So, if you are a foreigner, do not move to Alabama. Pick a different state, maybe even a different country. And not because after November you may not be able to get a driver’s license.  Move elsewhere because if you are smart enough to learn English as a foreign language, you are too smart to have a guy like Tim James as your governor. Or, even as your neighbor.

Contemplating teachers and the scientific method

Get out of your comfort zone. Test your beliefs.

I have been thinking lately about teachers. About my teachers. About teachers I know or work with. About myself as a teacher. In my experience, a good teacher gives you knowledge but a great teacher gives you the ability and desire to acquire knowledge. Even after you’ve left their classroom.

I was lucky to have many great teachers. One that has been on my mind lately is my 7th grade science teacher, Mr. Rose. Mr. Rose was a balding, 30-year old hipster with an earring and a sense of humor. It was in his class that I first learned the scientific method. Observation, hypothesis, experiment, conclusion. Repeat. I struggled to grasp the process at first thinking it was a step-by-step procedure that must be memorized. It wasn’t until he told me the simple essence of the scientific method that I understood. You have an idea about the world around you. You make a conscious effort to find out if it’s true. After that, if it doesn’t make sense to you, you change your original idea. Then, test it against the world again. Not a process leading to a definite conclusion, but a never ending way to seek better, more accurate knowledge. Usually, of course, leading to a realization that you are wrong. Always finding more questions that answers.

Science was never my best subject, nor math. Any subject with a clear, distinct right and wrong answer never suited me. So, even up to my last science class in college I never thought much about the scientific method outside of the laboratory. Then, when I began to travel a few years ago, I realized that what Mr. Rose had taught me was not a method of science, but a method for all knowledge.

You begin with an idea, a hypothesis, whether from your own mind, from your parents’ mind, or from a book. You make a specific effort to use your eyes, your ears, your hands, your brain and your heart to examine the world around you – your experiment. You will discover, either your idea holds up or it doesn’t. Your conclusion. You choose to hold onto the hypothesis or reject it and form a new or revised one. But, like in science, you are never finished. You must continue to expand your data base. You must test your ideas and beliefs again and again and again by getting larger and more diverse samples. How do you do this? By traveling. The more you travel, the larger your sample size. Get out of your town. Get out of your country. Get out of your comfort zone. Gain a larger sample size by seeing, hearing and experiencing as much as you can. You may find yourself constantly revising what you thought you knew, but you always be moving towards more precise, accurate knowledge of the world around you. A hypothesis, a belief, left untested or under-scrutinized is not a fact, but only a guess. You must test everything. Accept nothing blindly. Question anything that disagrees with your senses, with this experiment we call life. What Mr. Rose taught me, was not a method for science, but a method for life. Thank you, Mr. Rose for giving me that revelation, even 10 years after I left your classroom.