好久不見

So it has been a while since Simon's mutterings appeared on this blog. Partly because teaching has left me with little to no (creative) energy. Things, however, have fallen into place in the past week and a half following the securement of a new place for Leese and I. The serenity of our new home has gone a long way to revitalizing our spirits. It could not have been better timed. As of next week our schedules will accelerate to 45hrs p/w with no brakes (pun intended.) So whilst we will be spending precious few hours here in our apartment, they will be worth their weight in gold, vis-a-vis the hours spent in a convenient but dank youth hostel; the creature comforts that hard earned money can buy.

So the teaching machine still retains it's glean, although under the hood a bit of tinkering is needed. I know the car analogy is cliche but I'll keep the stream of consciousness going. One mechanical problem is being able to stop momentum; a proper brake system or better yet gearbox. Many of the classes I currently teach are of an advanced level. With particular private students (mano e mano) I can carry a conversation without the need of material (although I always have it handy.) For example, with one young student I talked about the problems associated with emancipation. We talked about her Bhuddist beliefs and how they provided her with a different centre of gravity to that of to her peers. The student talked about the reconciliation of her vocational goals with those of her spiritual life and the strength that she garnered from her strong sense of self. The conversation flowed freely from topic to topic with the constant injection of new vocabulary into her lexicon. The critical thinking she applied to her experiences and her general ontology was/is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise claustrophobic Taiwanese environment. Don't get me wrong, this kind of student is rare in Taiwan. The ability to speak English at an advanced level, although immensely difficult for the Taiwanese learner and by which I am humbled, is not entirely rare. The ability to converse about one's life without being overly concerned about 'face' (面子) is, however, as the Chinese ESL speaker would say, seldom found. Nor am I being overly caviling of the Taiwanese learner in regards to critical thinking (If anyone wants a greater insight into this issue, you will need to ask Lisa about her conversations with a Taiwanese professor and the difficulties they face, both professionally and conceptually, in teaching critical thinking to their Taiwanese students.) Critical thinking is not a large part of Taiwanese/Chinese culture; from my understanding, the rigid, Confucian teacher-student relationship makes it difficult for Taiwanese students to engage their teachers critically. And again, for some (particularly men), the idea of losing face will further discourage students from speaking publicly (this will be emphasised if their boss or superior is in the same class as them.) Hence even advanced learners of English will be muted by the concept of 面子.

Last week I took a risk with some of my upper-intermediate, corporate students by discussing the issue of 'ethics'. The textbook from which this lesson was taken is fantastic: it incorporates a nice balance of grammatical exercises, listening/reading comprehension, conversational questions, language utilization, and problem solving. The rhetoric or ethical framework used by the authors is, however, somewhat universalistic (or Western-centric.) This becomes particularly clear in regards to ethics, which is, like it or not, culturally bound - a system of moral principles in regards to a particular group. Hence while the material discerned that nepotism, labour exploitation, and intellectual theft was unethical, my students thought quite the opposite. In the hope that my understanding of Taiwanese/Chinese culture increases, perhaps these arbitrary opinions will form part of a larger system: a Taiwanese/Chinese ethical system that has rather profound implications for universalists and international governance. Now I know this previous sentence may sound rather artless or virginial, but experiencing the weight of this difference is very different to the conceptual understanding I received at university - abstract versus experiential.

So once upon a time when this waffle began I was talking about momentum. Now, irregardless of whether students are inhibited or unwilling or to discuss their lives with a degree of humility or openness, or whether the teaching material acts as a cultural anesthetic, at an advanced level, the conversation can continue with relatively few conceptual or methodical speed-bumps. Changing gears in order to compensate for obstacles and speed-bumps, however, can prove to be the most difficult part of a teaching week. It is difficult to slow the momentum, to pump the brakes, so to speak, when oscillating between advanced students and elementary students. Without sounding paternalistic, it's hard changing from fourth to first (not healthy for the teaching engine, God help me with these metaphors!) Part of this is difficulty is selfishness: my inability to conduct little cultural experiments with enough penetration. My mind has a lot of momentum, but in practice I need to slow down and meet the needs of my students. This has positive and negative consequences for both parties.

So the problem of momentum will only accentuate as Lisa and I's schedules accomodate the demands of holidaying students. At least we now have the privilege of learning, reading, cooking and conversing inside our own home, whilst somewhat unknowingly the streets of Taipei bustle around us.

- SS