Tuesday, March 22, 2011

ESL Reimagined: Teaching Bilingualism in Higher Education

People brought up within a western society often think that the monolingualism that forms a routine part of their existence is the normal way of life for all but a few ‘special’ people. They are wrong. Multilingualism is the natural way of life for hundreds of millions all over the world. (David Crystal, The Encyclopedia of Language, 1987)

Looking at the teaching and learning of languages in U.S. higher education, one is met with a paradox. On the one hand, native English speaking Americans who study foreign languages in the country’s higher education institutions, whether as a major, a minor, or merely to satisfy a foreign language requirement, are rewarded with credits and degrees. For these students, there is an institutional recognition that knowledge of a foreign language is valuable, in spite of the often modest practical results of their studies. On the other hand, many of these same universities graduate thousands of individuals each year who have attained a high level of bilingualism and biculturalism. These graduates have generally received no academic credit or other recognition for this achievement. On the contrary, their efforts in their additional language, if acknowledged at all, tend to be noted for their inadequacy. They are the hundreds of thousands of international students and American students who use English as an additional language (henceforth English L2 users) enrolled in U.S. universities and colleges. And while native English-speaking students’ often unexceptional results in foreign language learning bring academic recognition, English L2 users tend to be corralled into non-credit English language programs that are widely assumed to be remedial rather than developmental (Wiley & Lukes, 1996).

What accounts for this contradictory attitude toward the learning of additional languages among these two groups of students? Ruiz (cited in Escamilla, 2006) proposed that there are three orientations to language at the national, community, and institution levels in creating language policies: language as problem, language as right, and language as resource. In U.S. society, non-English languages are viewed as a problem, and opinion is divided on the question of bilingualism and whether or not it should be supported. The debate is manifested most obviously at the elementary and secondary school level, and is linked to the debate on immigration and immigrants’ rights. Those with an assimiliationist view argue for the exclusion of languages other than English, and support English-only and immersion programs in schools; while those with a cultural pluralist view favor the development of learners’ first languages as they make progress in English, and advocate for bilingual education (Lucas & Katz, 1994).

In higher education, on the other hand, there is no debate. The bilingualism and multilingualism of English L2 students is simply construed in terms of their deficient English, while the possibility that their first and other languages are a resource and a right is not considered. U.S. higher education is dominated by English monolingual thinking that not only does not recognize the valuable bilingualism of thousands of its students, but imposes on them a monolingual norm against which bilingualism is regarded as problematic. Further, the English language teaching profession in U.S. higher education, which has widely adopted monolingual practices, is strongly implicated in this imposition. As a profession, however, we are strongly placed to adopt and advocate for a more enlightened view of the situation of L2 users in our institutions, one that recognizes the value of bilingualism and encourages its development.

Language Learning as Bilingualization and Emergent Bilinguals

I begin with the premise that language learning is a process of bilingualization (Widdowson, 2003). That is, individuals learn an additional language not in order to become a monolingual speaker of that language, but to become bilingual (or multilingual if they already know more than one language). Terms such as English Language Learner, Limited English Proficient, and English as a Second Language are widely used in elementary and secondary education, and imply that students are suffering from a deficit which needs to be corrected. The notion of the emergent bilingual (Chen, 2007; Escamilla, 2006; García, 2009; García, Kleifgen, & Falchi, 2008), has been proposed in order to counteract this view. Emergent bilinguals are conceived not simply as moving along an interlanguage continuum toward native English speaker proficiency, but as developing a repertoire of language skills that incorporates two or more languages. Although the term emergent bilingual has thus far been applied to children in elementary and secondary education who are in the earlier stages of becoming bilingual, the concept can also be usefully applied to English L2 users in higher education, many of whom continue to grapple with English as they progress toward a deeper level of bilingualism. While students in higher education are obviously more advanced cognitively than the elementary and secondary learners, there is nonetheless a strong case to be made that they are progressing toward a state of bilingualism and biculturalism, as opposed to the more narrowly conceived notion that they are simply improving their English.

What does this imply in terms of the learning needs and resources of English L2 users? Cummins (2007) offered three theoretical perspectives that lend support to the view that teaching in U.S. universities largely fails to address their learning needs and leverage their resources. The first is the notion that education builds on learners’ prior understanding. Since much of emergent bilinguals’ knowledge is encoded in their first language, it makes sense to draw on the first language in developing knowledge and skill in additional languages and in learning academic content. The second perspective proposes that in bilinguals and multilinguals there is interdependence across languages, and that development in one language may have positive effects on users’ overall language skills. This perspective denies a previously held assumption that transfer across languages is necessarily negative, and posits instead the benefits of learners’ transferring of conceptual elements, metacognitive and metalinguistic strategies, pragmatic elements of language use, and so on. Cummins summarized the benefits of taking advantage of language interdependence in language classrooms by proposing that, “ learning efficiencies can be achieved if teachers explicitly draw students’ attention to similarities and differences between their languages and reinforce effective learning strategies in a coordinated way across languages” (Cummins, 2007, p. 233). Allowing and encouraging students to make use of the full range of their linguistic resources gives them a greater chance of mastering the material, and to be able to handle it in more than one language.

Cummins’ third theoretical perspective follows from the first two: that the state of multilingualism is qualitatively different from monolingualism. Rather than language systems compartmentalized in users’ minds, there exists a Common Underlying Proficiency (CUP) in which “the entire psycholinguistic system of the bi- and multilingual is transformed in comparison to the relatively less complex psycholinguistic system of the monolingual” (Cummins, 2007, p. 234).

Cook (1999) reached a similar conclusion. His “multicompetence,” the totality of a multilingual’s language knowledge, “is intrinsically more complex than monolingualism” (p. 191). Multicompetence recognizes, and research supports the theory that users’ first and additional languages are linked, and that users frequently draw on their first language and competencies associated with it when processing their additional languages. Code-switching and code-mixing, the context-motivated or expedient use of more than one language when conversing with fellow bi- and multilinguals, provides evidence that languages are connected and not hermetically sealed from each other in users’ minds. In short, Cook concluded, “L2 users are different kinds of people, not just monolingual native speakers who happen to know another language” (Cook, 1999, p. 194).

If L2 users are indeed different kinds of people, who build on knowledge acquired in their first language, and in whose minds different languages are linked, then it is incumbent upon institutions to consider how these differences might be leveraged to make their education more effective. Moreover, if we believe that proficiency in additional languages is a valuable attribute in the 21st century, then higher education institutions ought to be encouraging the development of multicompetent individuals rather than fixating on perceived deficiencies that are informed by the monolingual native speaker model.

The TESOL Profession’s Role in the Maintenance of the Monolingual Hegemony

Despite the goal of bilingualism/multilingualism inherent in language learning, many in our own profession, far from encouraging contact and interaction between languages in learners’ minds, impose a monolingual pedagogy which seeks to keep the two languages separate, indeed attempts to suppress the learner’s first language altogether, as if it is a hindrance to the language learning process and to academic success. Some writers in our field have questioned English-only practices in the ESL classroom (e.g. Atkinson, 1987; Auerbach, 1993; Cummins, 2007; Schweers, 1999). Auerbach, for example, pointed out that in many ESL classrooms, “teachers devise elaborate games, signals, and penalty systems to ensure that students do not use their L1 and justify these practices with the claim that use of the L1 will impede progress in the acquisition of English” (Auerbach, 1993, p. 10). These practices are a manifestation of Ruiz’s ‘language as problem’ orientation, and prevent students from doing exactly what bilinguals do: engaging in code-switching or code-mixing, using their first and second languages expediently to achieve their goals, which is, according to Hudson (1996) “the inevitable consequence of bilingualism” (p. 51). Bilingual dictionaries, used by learners to make input comprehensible, are often frowned upon or banished by teachers who otherwise acknowledge the pedagogic principle that individuals learn new knowledge by relating it to existing knowledge. This type of practice is encouraged in our profession by the texts used to train and educate ESL teachers, many of which, as Cook (1999) has pointed out, encourage the comparison of learners’ English with the native speaker goal, and assume that native speaker English – as opposed to bilingualism - is the learners’ goal.

Much ESL teaching then, like most teaching in higher education as a whole, assumes that only one language is involved: English. Yet whenever there are English L2 users in the classroom, at least two languages are involved in learning, even if one of these languages is not permitted to be expressed openly. L2 users are then, in Widdowson’s words, “obliged to go along with the pedagogic pretence imposed upon them” (Widdowson, 2003, p. 155).

It is worth pointing out the discrepancy between the practice of teachers of ESL and that of foreign language teachers to U.S. college students. In one study of university foreign language teachers, (Polio & Duff, 1994), the teachers used the students’ first language, English, for a number of purposes, including classroom administration, grammar instruction, building empathy and solidarity, explaining unknown vocabulary, and providing clarification. Writing from a monolingual pedagogy perspective, the authors considered what they viewed as a prevalence of English language use to be “shortsighted” (ibid. p. 323), and suggested ways to remedy it. This is an interpretation one can make only if one believes that all use of the students’ first language is necessarily a lapse. An alternative interpretation of the same data might reveal bilingual teachers drawing on their own and their students’ language to provide a supportive environment for language learning and the process of bilingualization. The teachers in the study said it themselves: they used English “to create some kind of relaxed atmosphere,” and to ensure that “everybody immediately gets everything” (p. 323–4).

Other examples of teachers exploiting their students’ first language include checking comprehension, explaining an activity, for peer tutoring (Lucas & Katz, 1994), as a part of the writing process, and for a number of other purposes including presenting language rules, discussing cultural issues, and giving instructions (Auerbach, 1993). In one of my classes, students selected a short comic strip in their own language, translated it into English, and made a poster which included the original strip, the student’s translation, and some words of explanation in English as to why the strip was humorous. It was not necessary for me to understand the students’ first language for this activity to succeed and generate enthusiasm among the students as they sought to explain to me and the other students the cultural and linguistic elements of the strip in English.

That a bilingual approach to language teaching is used by many language teachers is a reality, and this approach should not be dismissed out of hand by those teaching English L2 speakers in university settings. Nor, as Cummins (2007) argued, should those teachers, having internalized as axiomatic the need to eliminate the first language from their classrooms, feel – or be made to feel - a sense a guilt for allowing its principled use.

Indeed, research appears to support a bilingually-oriented approach to language teaching. Although as Cummins (2007) pointed out, the dominance of the monolingual approach in language teaching theory has led to a dearth of research into the benefits of L1 to L2 translation for language learning, he nevertheless identified research which suggests that translation aids language acquisition, and prepares students to be language brokers outside the classroom. University students have reported favoring teachers using their first language in foreign language classes, “to help (them) feel more comfortable and confident, to check comprehension, and to define new vocabulary items,” as well as “because it helps them when they feel lost.” (Schweers, 1999, p. 7)

We in the ESL profession should therefore question our assumptions about imposing English-only in our classrooms in order to lay the groundwork for building a more positive attitude toward bilingualism and multilingualism on our campuses. To help our students on the path toward bilingualism, we ought to strive to be emergent bilinguals ourselves and to reflect on our own use of our first language in the learning process. Additionally, we ought to consider how we can help our students continue to learn English by building on prior knowledge of their first and additional languages, and by drawing on both intralingual and crosslingual strategies in our teaching (Stern, 1992). This will not necessarily be easy. As Auerbach has pointed out, monolingual pedagogy is a largely unquestioned practice which supports and is supported by a global power structure, an institutional manifestation of the dominance of English-speaking nations on the global level that assumes ESL teaching expertise is the province of native English speakers and promotes the idea that standards of English will fall if other languages are used (Phillipson, as cited in Auerbach, 1993).

I acknowledge the value of restricting the use of the students’ first language where an instructor feels this will be helpful; indeed, intralingual functioning in an additional language is a valuable skill as well as crosslingual proficiency. Rather, I propose that we be open to the notion that students are progressing toward bilingualism, and make principled pedagogic choices that are consistent with this goal. In both ESL classes and in the university as a whole, I echo Lucas and Katz’s approach to this question: “language choice in and of itself does not have to be the key educational issue. The question should be: What circumstances and strategies will provide the best opportunities for particular students to learn in a particular context?” (Lucas & Katz, 1994, p. 559)

Looking Ahead

In order to continue progressing toward bilingualism, our students need our help and the help of our non-English language teaching colleagues. They need to be given encouragement to continue developing their language ability, not simply marked down for ‘poor English;’ and there should be no attempt to force learners to suppress their first language unless there are sound pedagogical reasons for doing so. In a globalized world that increasingly needs individuals who can mediate between languages and cultures, those reasons would have to be compelling.

It is a common assumption among university teachers that L2 users should be able to function in English at the same level as native English speakers. Yet all experienced ESL teachers know that even advanced English L2 users may make fundamental grammatical errors such as inappropriate tense use or the omission of third-person singular ‘s,’ and it takes years to master the non-rule-based idiomaticity and the collocational conventions that characterize native-speaker English use. That the majority of English L2 users will never be able to replicate the language of educated native speakers does not make them, in Cook’s words, “failed native speakers” - they should be treated as “speakers in their own right” (Cook, 1999, p. 185), and it is unreasonable to expect the same from them as one would from native speakers. This is not a call for a lowering of standards, but rather for a tolerance of inevitable difference.

I do not deny the need for a common language of communication and academics in higher education settings, nor that students should be expected to learn and follow American conventions in their writing. Yet caution is needed: isolating the academic setting as a locale in which only a single language is welcome fails to replicate the real world outside academia – certainly outside the United States - and to prepare students for that world; and it is a denial of the fact that students bring into the academic environment a multiplicity of languages, even if those languages are not given the right of expression or recognition in that environment. American universities are deliberately limiting themselves by denying the richness of the language and cultural backgrounds its students bring. This denial, moreover, contradicts the universities’ own expressed aspiration for diversity on campus: while universities claim to value diversity, this appreciation apparently does not include languages other than English. Universities need to respond to the fact that they place sole responsibility for perceived deficits in students’ English squarely on the student, rather than acknowledging the contradiction brought about by the their recruiting those students and then failing to acknowledge that they are emergent bilinguals – different kinds of people.

If universities are recruiting international students, most of whom will return to their own countries after completing their studies; and if universities seek to prepare their students for success in their chosen careers, then it follows that universities should address how international students and other English L2 users will apply their knowledge in their own languages and cross-lingually and cross-culturally after graduation. An English-only approach which fails to recognize the bilingualism and biculturalism of English L2 users not only sells the students short but also minimizes the university’s own recognition of its potential value in preparing students for a globalized world.

It is time, then, for higher education institutions to recognize the value of bilingualism and multilingualism, and to encourage and reward students as they progress along this path, rather than blatantly ignoring it. Dual-language degree programs, such as the one offered by Puerto Rico’s Sistema Universitario Ana G. Méndez in Florida (Epstein, 2010), and the Dual Language Program at Miami Dade College (Miami Dade College, 2010) are a reimagining of the ESL enterprise, and point the way to how universities might recognize, encourage, leverage, and reward students’ bilingualism.

We in the TESOL profession need to play our part. We first need to increase our own comfort level with students’ bilingualism, to view our students as emergent bilinguals, and to view the process of language learning as one of bilingualization. Then we should work to bring to the awareness of our colleagues on campus the fact that our international students have attained, and continue to attain, a high level of bilingualism or multilingualism. We need to learn to be proud of our students’ language achievement; we should support it in its entirety and reach the point where we can acknowledge it as a valuable resource that we have helped them develop.


References

Atkinson, D. (1987). The mother tongue in the classroom: a neglected resource? ELT Journal, 41(4), 241-247.

Auerbach, E. R. (1993). Reexamining English Only in the ESL Classroom. TESOL Quarterly, 27(1), 9-32.

Chen, Y. (2007). Equality and Inequality of Opportunity in Education: Chinese Emergent Bilingual Children in the English Mainstream Classroom. Language, Culture, and Curriculum, 20(1), 36 - 51.

Cook, V. (1999). Going beyond the Native Speaker in Language Teaching. TESOL Quarterly, 33(2), 185-209.

Crystal, D. (1987). The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Cummins, J. (2007). Rethinking monolingual instructional strategies in multilingual classrooms. Canadian Journal of Applied Linguistics, 10(2), 221-240.

Epstein, J. (2010). Bilingual (Higher) Ed. Retrieved June 17, 2010, from http://www.insidehighered.com/news/2010/04/08/agmus

Escamilla, K. (2006). Monolingual Assessment and Emerging Bilinguals: A Case Study in the US. In O. Garcia, T. Skutnabb-Kangas & M. Torres-Guzman (Eds.), Imagining Multilingual Schools. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.

García, O. (2009). Emergent Bilinguals and TESOL: What's in a Name? TESOL Quarterly, 43(2).

García, O., Kleifgen, J. A., & Falchi, L. (2008). From English Language Learners to Emergent Bilinguals. New York: Teachers College, Columbia University.

Hudson, R. A. (1996). Sociolinguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Lucas, T., & Katz, A. (1994). Reframing the Debate: The Roles of Native Languages in English-Only Programs for Language Minority Students. TESOL Quarterly, 28(3), 537-561.

Miami Dade College. (2010). Dual Language Program. Retrieved June 18, 2010, from http://www.mdc.edu/honorscollege/Academics_DualLanguageHonors.asp

Polio, C. G., & Duff, P. A. (1994). Teachers' Language Use in University Foreign Language Classrooms: A Qualitative Analysis of English and Target Language Alternation. The Modern Language Journal 78(3), 313 - 326.

Schweers, C. W. (1999). Using the L1 in the L2 Classroom. English Teaching Forum, April - June 1999, 6 - 13.

Stern, H. H. (1992). Issues and Options in Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Widdowson, H. (2003). Defining Issues in English Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Wiley, T. G., & Lukes, M. (1996). English-Only and Standard English Ideologies in the U.S. . TESOL Quarterly, 30(3), 511-535.


Sunday, February 6, 2011

A Critique of Richard E. Nisbett’s The Geography of Thought: How Asians and Westerners Think Differently…and Why

What is one to make of a book that makes the following claims about billions of the world’s people?

  • They do not see distinct objects in the world; rather they see undifferentiated substances;
  • They have a tendency to become jacks and jills of all trades rather than experts in any;
  • They have an inferior ability to perform logical operations.

These claims are made – about Asians - by Richard E. Nisbett in “The Geography of Thought,” a book in which he advances an ‘economic-social’ theory of human cognition to explain differences in thinking, detected in the numerous studies he cites, between Asians and Westerners. Westerners, it is found, pay most attention to the objects in a field, while Asians attend more to the background. Westerners tend to blame the individual for a crime; Asians take environmental factors into account. And, astonishingly, while Westerners see a world of differentiated objects, Asians literally see the world as undifferentiated masses of matter. (p. 82)

In a nutshell, Nisbett’s explanation for differences in western and Asian ways of thinking is rooted in social differences in ancient China and ancient Greece. In China, for example, one lived in a village, at close quarters with others, where one saw oneself (so Nisbett speculates) as “linked in a network of relationships and social obligations (that) might have made it natural to view the world in general as continuous and composed of substances rather than discrete and consisting of discrete objects” (p. 35 – 36). The Greeks, unconstrained by relationships in this way, might have been more inclined to focus on individual objects. Fast forward two-and-half thousand years: ancient societies and their resultant thought patterns allow us to “make some rather dramatic predictions about cognitive differences between contemporary East Asians and Westerners.” (p. 44) While the preponderance of studies in the book do indeed suggest that there may be some cognitive differences on average between different groups of test subjects, Nisbett’s explanation is, to say the least, extremely problematic, on a number of fronts.

Before we even open the book, we are presented with a neat division of the world into “Asians” and “Westerners.” This requires viewing these two vast regions as monolithic, and downplays the plethora of national, regional, local cultures and subcultures, as well as the variety of religious and intellectual traditions contained within them. Nisbett looks at China and sees “ethnic homogeneity,” (2003, p. 31). Contrast this view with Reagan (2005), who draws attention to “the ethnic and linguistic diversity of its population” (p. 137). The idea of an identifiable “West” similarly needs to be questioned. For Nisbett, ancient Greek society and thought formed the first link in a direct and singular chain to a contemporary Western culture.

The “Plato-to-NATO” view of European culture is rejected by Reagan, who argues, “There is no single “Western” culture in any really meaningful sense; rather there are many different and distinct cultures that share certain elements of a common historical background that are manifested in different ways in the present” (Reagan, 2005, p. 37). The direct line that Nisbett draws between ancient societies and modern cognition is thus challenged by the cultural diversity within two world regions that Nisbett presents as monolithic. He fails to explain the mechanism by which ancient thought patterns are passed down more than two thousand years, remaining intact over time and amidst geographic, cultural, and linguistic diversity.

Nisbett’s evidence about cognition in ancient peoples is in any case open to question because it is based on tenuous inferences. The validity of the assertion from from pages 35 – 36, quoted above, hinges crucially on that inconspicuous word might in the middle of the sentence. Nisbett also assumes that by examining the writings of the ancient philosophers, we can gain an insight into the cognitive processes of everyday people:

The ancient Chinese philosophers saw the world as consisting of continuous substances and the ancient Greek philosophers tended to see the world as being composed of discrete objects or separate atoms. A piece of wood to the Chinese would have been a seamless, uniform material; to the Greeks it would have been seen as composed of particles. (p. 80)

Leaving aside the question of whether the thinking of philosophers was disseminated and accepted by the population in general to the point that it influenced the way their visual apparatus and brains perceived the world (itself an extraordinary claim, especially given that most of their texts are lost), it is simply not accurate to characterize the ancient Greek philosophers’ characterization of objects in the world as comprising particles. Certainly Democritus and Leuccipus advanced this notion; others, though, proposed the basis of the world to be an undifferentiated substance (Anaximander), fire (Heraclitus), earth, water, air, and fire (Empedocles), God (Xenophanes), and so on (Russell, 1946). Philosophers, in any case, generally do not write books that reflect popular thought; rather they attempt to bring new understanding of the world by cutting against the grain of popular conceptions. Nisbett’s quoting the Tao Te Ching to illustrate the apparent Chinese “antipathy toward categorization” (p. 138) fails to consider that the Tao Te Ching was likely written as a reaction to the prevailing world view, rather than as a description of it. It cannot be assumed that the way ancient philosophers and common people viewed the world was one and the same. Nisbett’s inferring of general thought patterns based on the musings of philosophers is deeply flawed.

The preponderance of studies that Nisbett cites is impressive in bolstering his case for difference between Asian and Western cognition. Yet his presentation of the research leaves various questions frustratingly unanswered. For one thing, Nisbett cites only studies that support his hypothesis, as if all the evidence points convincingly to his conclusion, which may not be the case. There are studies, for example, that have found no significant differences in the learning approach of Asians and westerners, and suggest that differences within cultural groups may be at least as significant as those between groups (Egege & Kutieleh, 2008).

A further weakness in the presentation of the research is that while most social science studies will call attention to their own deficiencies – a sample that makes the results difficult to generalize from, for example, or difficulties with the methodology – Nisbett makes no mention of these weaknesses, giving the impression that the results are unproblematic. Added to this, there is vagueness in the reporting of the results: Nisbett avoids numbers, preferring instead to report (on two pages of the book alone) that subjects “were likely to…,” (two instances) “tended to…,” (three instances) “less likely to…,” “not necessarily true for...,” and “quite likely to…” (p. 186 – 187). Even in their vagueness, results like these beg the question: what of the subjects who did not fit Nisbett’s expectation? What was it that caused the non-conformists to dodge the ancient social influences Nisbett proposes? The answer to this question would surely provide a richer insight into the actual process by which individuals in these cultures come to think the way they do. Apparently, though, neither Nisbett nor any of the other researchers mentioned in the book thought to investigate it.

In an age in which many in the West continue to be fascinated by – or afraid of – Asia, The Geography of Thought holds out a tantalizing promise of an understanding of the thought processes of their respective populations. The monolithic conceptualization of those regions, as well as opaque presentation of research findings and a theoretical explanation that stretches the reader’s credulity, conspire to leave this promise unfulfilled.

References

Egege, S., & Kutieleh, S. (2008). Dimming Down Difference... In L. Dunn & M. Wallace (Eds.), Teaching in Transnational Higher Education. New York: Routledge.

Nisbett, R. E. (2003). The Geography of Thought: How Asians and Westerners Think Differently...and Why. New York: Free Press.

Reagan, T. (2005). Non-Western Educational Traditions. New York: Routledge.

Russell, B. (1946). A History of Western Philosophy. London: Unwin.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

A Personal Reflection on Freire's "Daring to Dream: A Pedagogy of the Unfinished"

It’s rare that I pick up a book, read it, and then act on what I read. The last time I did this – around three years ago - was when I read Microsoft Access for Dummies, and created a database. Other than that, I cannot think of many books that have inspired me to action. And so it is with Daring to Dream, a posthumous collection of some of the writings, speeches, and dialogues of “perhaps the most influential education writer of our times” (Freire, 2007, back cover). Faced with Freire’s vision of education that is a reaction to social injustice and poverty, I have absolutely no plan to do anything about it.

There are essentially two big ideas (and this is a big ideas book – don’t come looking for detailed commentary) in Daring to Dream. The first is, to put it tritely, “you can make a difference.” Freire coats this truth with much verbiage about history being mutable, transformable; and he rejects a deterministic and fatalistic view of history and life. He wants the reader to understand the possibility of being the subject (i.e. the do-er) rather than the object (or the done-to) of history. This means that it is possible to do something to change the world. The second idea follows from the first: in order to sustain the belief that one can have this kind of effect on the scheme of things, in the words of Rodgers and Hammerstein: “You got to have a dream, if you don’t have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?” (Rodgers & Hammerstein, n.d.). Or, as Freire would say it, “Dreaming is…a requirement or a condition which has become permanent in the history we make and which makes and re-makes us” (Freire, 2007, p. ix).

Freire was motivated by a desire to eradicate social inequality and poverty from his native Brazil and the world. He wanted the poor to realize that power relations that pertain in the world are not mandated by laws of nature or of God. Guided by the dream of a re-invention of democracy and of liberation, they might act to change their circumstances. It was educators’ role to help them understand this, and in Chapter 5 of Daring to Dream, we witness Freire modeling the kind of participatory education that might begin to have this effect, one in which, rather than attempting to indoctrinate students with fixed truth, he invites them to create their own meanings on the subject of reading.

I desperately want to say this is inspiring. But to be inspiring, it needs to inspire something. I cannot state that the book is inspiring and do nothing, for that is a contradiction. Yet although Freire and I are both involved in and concerned about education, my circumstances are very different from his. I am no longer a teacher, but a manager in an education setting. My students are not children, they are young adults. They are not poor, but well-heeled international students seeking to be a part of the ‘global elite’ by improving their English and perhaps going on to gain a degree at an American university. I don’t have much contact with these students; I mainly deal with their teachers. And it is not my job to influence the moral content of these teachers’ lessons. So what do I do with Freire’s ‘inspirational’ message about alleviating the burden of the poor by inspiring in them a dream of the future and convincing them that they can change the world?

The effect has to be a modest and subtle one. I have read many, many books in the field of applied linguistics, and happily accept that I cannot use what I read the next day at work. What these books do is to create a deep well of knowledge and opinion within me. As I go about my daily tasks, I usually don’t need to draw from this well, but when difficulties arise, that is when I can reach in and ask, “What can inform my decision-making here?” As an example: in sociolinguistics, we learn about bilinguals and their tendency to code-switch (i.e. switch naturally from one language to another). So when questions arise about students’ use of their first language in the classroom, or why students won’t use ‘English only’ outside the classroom in the school hallways, I don’t simply try to enforce rules around this; I consider why it is that these bilingual people don’t use their second language only, and attempt to craft a solution that respects the fact that bilinguals, far from being limited to one language, can and do make use of a richness of language resources that monolinguals will never be able to access. After the problem is resolved (at least for the time being), I can put that knowledge ‘back in the well.’

I can conceive of Freire’s book as a similar addition to my store of background knowledge – it deepens my well. Maybe I cannot use his work immediately, and I cannot predict when a situation will arise in which I can use it. But one day, maybe soon, maybe a long time from now, a problem, large or small, may arise in my work in which Freire’s message that the situation is not set in stone; that I can dream of a better way; that it is right to work toward fairness in our society and in the world – can guide my decision making. At that time, I expect I will draw from Freire and let his ideas inspire me. And actually, I think this is good enough.

References

Freire, P. (2007). Daring to Dream: Toward a Pedagogy of the Unfinished. Paradigm Publishers.

Rodgers, R., & Hammerstein, O. (n.d.). Rodgers and Hammerstein: Happy Talk. Wikia. Retrieved October 15, 2010, from http://lyrics.wikia.com/Rodgers_And_Hammerstein:Happy_Talk