Observations.
Everybody hates them. Everybody feels
that “why me, why now” pang of resentment at having an interloper, sitting at
the back of the class, watching and listening and taking notes. If you have
ever been a teacher anywhere in the world it will almost certainly have
happened to you.
Back
in England there’s something called OFSTED – the OFfice for STandards in
EDucation. Its job is to inspect schools
and part of that process is observing teachers. I’m certain that America and
Australia and every other country that English teachers here come from will
have similar bodies… or maybe I mean busybodies. The trouble is, and here I can
only speak for England, that observations are not what they should be. They
should be a formative tool that helps teachers develop their skills and
encourages them to try new techniques and become the best teachers they can.
Instead, OFSTED observations, and the internal school observations that go
hand-in-hand with them, have become a blunt stick for beating the teachers and
usually leave everyone concerned feeling useless and worthless.
Before
I come on to observations in China, let me reminisce for a moment about the
worst observation I ever had. I like to
think that I’m a pretty good teacher – maybe not the best in the world but certainly
able to do my job well and even, from time to time, inspire a few of my
students. Of course even the best teachers have off days.
I
was, at the time teaching a group of what, in ESOL terms, are called Entry 1
students. This, in theory means they do have a little, very basic, English but
not much. The group had started out at sixteen students but – for reasons that
have more to do with UK immigration policies than with education – had dwindled
to ten regular attenders. On the day of the observation – practice for OFSTED –
only six showed up. That shouldn’t have mattered; I was prepared for a small
group. The trouble was that they liked me and the way they showed that they
liked me was to sit paying rapt attention to everything I said but barely speaking
at all. Nothing I did, and I tried every trick in my repertoire, could get more
than a few monosyllabic answers from them.
After
the lesson it was time for feedback and the observer started with the most
positive thing in the whole process.
“You worked,” she said “Very hard,
but to very little effect.”
After
that she proceeded to rip everything apart. My lesson plan wasn’t adequate (it
was); my activities weren’t suitable for the group (they were); the classroom
environment wasn’t suitable (out of my control); my delivery was, apparently,
both too fast and too slow (how?); the students were in the wrong level (there
was no lower level for them); the students didn’t participate (at least that we
agreed on).
And
on it went. Twenty minutes of pure negativity. Fortunately it wasn’t my first
go on the roundabout. I knew enough by then to know that no one ever said
anything positive. that the whole thing was an exercise in nit-picking the
tiniest flaws and in blaming the teacher for things entirely outside his
control. I listened, nodded and agreed like a good little sheep. Anything else
would have been pointless. The tick-boxes had already been ticked and the
conclusions already drawn. And that was that: a failing grade on the
observation.
Now
that story isn’t meant to scare or demoralise you. It’s meant to show you what
teachers in our own countries routinely go through. It’s meant to put into
perspective the observations you might get here. It’s meant to help you
understand that observations in your EFL class in China aren’t the nightmare
that they could be.
So,
who will observe you? There are a number of possibilities. In my time here I’ve
been observed – at different schools – by my FAO, the head of the English
department, Chinese English teachers, other foreign teachers, the school
principal and, on one memorable occasion, all of the above simultaneously,
seated in a row along the back wall of the classroom.
Before
you panic you should ask the question – why are they here? And now that you
have asked it I’ll answer it. It’s nothing sinister. If the school principal
observes you, it will probably be for a couple of minutes and it’s purely
political – acknowledging your presence, showing that he or she is aware of
your contribution. If it’s the FAO they just want to know that you are turning
up and doing your job and that you aren't doing anything that’s massively
wrong. If it’s your department head, other teachers (Chinese or foreign) then
they almost certainly want to learn from you – to get new ideas for their own
teaching. This is just basic good practice. One colleague in Baiyin watched
every single time I taught his class, sitting in the room writing down
everything I did or said. When I asked why, he told me he wanted to copy my
style for his own teaching. If it’s a whole damned coach party then it will be
part of the school’s policy and you can be sure they do the same to each other
too. You might even get invited to come along. I have on several occasions.
The
bottom line is that unless you do something ridiculously wrong, it’s unlikely
to have any consequences at all. You won’t get any feedback or criticism and
nothing will happen. As long as you have prepared your lesson and deliver it
reasonably well everything will be fine. It can even work to your advantage as
the most unruly classes behave a whole lot better when their Chinese teachers
are in the room. The key is not to worry about it. Just go ahead and teach as
you normally would. Keep everything appropriate (remember that list of things
not to do or talk about) and ignore the observers altogether. They won’t join
in and they won’t say anything.
Of
course now you are thinking “But what if I DO do something ridiculously wrong?”
Trust me, you won’t. They may not like your style but that’s not an issue.
Short of losing your temper, hitting a student or having a panic attack that
renders you speechless, there is little you could do that’s wrong enough to
cause a problem.
Feedback,
if it exists at all is likely to come to us here in the Yangshuo office rather
than directly to you. In Chinese culture negative feedback is almost never
given, or at least given by very circuitous routes, because of the loss of
face. If that does happen, then someone (probably me) will talk to you about
it, make a few suggestions as to how you can fix any problems.
In
any case, observations aren’t a big deal and aren’t a problem. Just treat them
like any other day in the classroom
Of
course you might get observed by me… and I learned all I know from watching
OFSTED. Then you’ll be in trouble.
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