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the slippery stairs,
ready to catch the
shuttle bus, when my
husband's voice halted
me. "Hi! It is so cold
outside; where are you
going?" I responded in
surprise, "Why do you
ask? Today is Friday.
Remember the Chinese
class for our son?"
He
responded unhappily,
"Yeah, I remember, but I
just don't understand
why you take such pains
to get him to the class
every Friday evening.
What's the use of going
there anyway? He's been
going there for almost
two years, and what he
has learned? He's
forgotten almost all the
basic characters he
learned in kindergarten.
He is not learning
Chinese in that class. I
don't know what they're
doing there. And I don't
understand how the
teacher teaches. Why,
our son cannot write
even his own name
correctly in Chinese.
That's ridiculous. I
just don't think the
teacher's methodology is
effective. She should
use dictation and tests
as we used to do when we
taught English to our
students. Skipping one
class won't do him any
harm. I think he'll be
better off just staying
at home with me, and I
will read some Chinese
stories to him." I
stopped, halted by the
feeling of unhappiness
in my husband's voice,
but then my son pulled
my coat, telling me
urgently, "Mom, hurry
up, or we'll be late." I
looked at my boy and at
my husband. Then I said
to my husband gently,
"Honey, talk to you
later. We need to catch
the bus." With my boy
dragging me along the
icy road, we ran to the
bus stop just in time to
get on the bus, leaving
my husband behind still
complaining.
Mr. Doubts, Mr.
Doubts
Such scenes occurred
many times. I did not
know how to answer my
husband's doubts.
Indeed, I also at times
succumbed to doubts
about what was going on
in that classroom. The
following questions kept
going around my head:
"Why is my child not
learning much Chinese?
How about the other
children in the
classroom; are they
learning how to read and
write and speak? How
does the teacher really
teach? What do the other
parents think about the
Chinese class, and why
did they send their
children to the class in
the first place?"
These questions haunted
me, and I did not know
how to put them to rest.
Then fate lent a hand.
As part of my graduate
work in education I
enrolled in a course in
qualitative methodology,
and in that course I had
to do a small
qualitative study. This
struck me as just what I
needed to respond to the
doubts my husband and I
had. I thus began my
small study trying to
find some answers to my
doubts, and perhaps the
doubts of other parents
in similar situations as
well.
Go Away, Mr. Doubts
I was already familiar,
of course, with the
instructor and the
children in the class,
since every Friday
evening I brought my
child there, and
sometimes stayed in the
lounge talking with
another parent. But now
I went with a different
purpose. I observed the
children both before and
during class, taking
fieldnotes, and I also
interviewed several of
the children and
parents.
The Chinese class was
offered free at a church
building near campus
every Friday evening
from 7:00 to 8:00 p.m.
by a lady from China
with a masters degree in
Teaching English as a
Second Language (TESOL)
and who was a doctoral
student in curriculum
and instruction. The
classroom was located
inside a game room,
separated from the rest
of the room by a screen
beyond which was a
hockey table and a pool
table. Further beyond, a
piano was set against
the wall, and a soccer
n
anywhere in the game
room or the classroom.
The big table in the
middle of the classroom
served as a writing desk
for all the students.
Ten chairs were arranged
around the table.
During the period of my
study there were eight
students in the class,
ranging in age from five
to twelve. All of the
children had lived in
the United States for at
least one year. Others
had been in the "States"
more than three years;
in fact, four had been
born in the United
States.
Following is a portrayal
of a "typical" class
session. Not every time
was identical, of
course, but this
depiction should provide
a sense of the classroom
context and activities.
A Night in the
Chinese Class
About ten to fifteen
minutes before class
three parents dropped
their children at the
front door of the
building and left in a
hurry, waving Hi to me
and the other parents.
Two other parents
accompanied their
children to the game
room and then left. One
parent stayed in the
lounge waiting for her
children the whole time.
One child came with
another family; I never
met his/her parent.
As soon as the children
arrived at the church,
they immediately ran
upstairs toward the game
room, threw their bag
packs either on the
floor or on the table,
ready to start the play
or join the game others
had started. Although
sometimes it was only a
few minutes before the
class started, they took
advantage of the time
and facilities there and
enjoyed themselves.
Sometimes they competed
against each other in
playing the piano;
sometimes they played
games. They talked in
English and Chinese
interchangeably. In one
of my observation
sessions, before the
instructor arrived, I
asked the children who
were playing in the game
room, "Have you finished
the Chinese assignment
for today?" Nobody
directly answered me. I
could only hear the
murmur, "Oh, yeah." Then
I heard one of them say,
"What is the assignment
for today?" It seemed to
me that they were not
enthusiastic about their
assignment or about
learning Chinese. They
seemed to be much more
focused on the fun
activities in which they
were then engaged. When
the instructor came, she
had to push them into
the classroom area.
As the class started, I
noticed that the
children had no
textbook; they used
sheets which the
instructor had copied
from a used textbook.
The instructor later
told me she had to erase
the marks on the book
every time she did the
copying, so the teaching
material was not very
clear.
The instructor began
class by pairing the
students and asking them
to check their homework.
The students were paired
based on their language
ability: a more able
student with a less able
student. The students'
abilities seemed less
dependent on age than on
how long they had been
in America. Students
concentrated on what
they were doing; by this
point none of the
students were chatting.
When the students were
working in pairs, if one
student made a mistake,
the other would try to
help. While this was
going on the teacher did
not interfere, but only
supplied encouragement.
After the students
checked each other's
work, the instructor
wrote some characters on
the chalkboard, leaving
blanks next to each so
that students could
generate their own
additions to make words
or phrases. She wrote
the Chinese character
fang, meaning to place
or to put. When she
asked for a volunteer to
write on the chalkboard,
all the children
immediately left their
seats, eager to show
their work. She had to
ask them to be patient
and wait for her next
instruction. One student
went to the front and
wrote the character xue
next to fang. The
teacher praised him,
because when xue,
meaning learning or
school, is added to the
character fang, it means
school is over (fang xue),
which is a correct
usage. The students
found some humor in this
phrase.
Every time a child did
the board work
correctly, the
instructor asked
everybody to clap hands
for him or her, and the
child's face would glow
with pride and
excitement. Their eyes
were glittered with
happiness. I could not
help clapping hands with
them, sharing their joy.
Observing this, I
drifted off into my
private thoughts,
wishing I were as
patient and creative as
the instructor; perhaps
then my child's Chinese
might be much better.
Suddenly, a child's
voice interrupted my
thinking: "What is the
Chinese for
frustration?"
The instructor tried to
explain frustration in
Chinese, but nobody
seemed to understand.
The students were silent
for about a minute. This
is not that surprising,
actually, because the
word meaning frustration
in Chinese is composed
of two characters, xie
and qi which separately
mean unload and air.
When the teacher tried
to explain in Chinese,
she used very formal
words which the students
did not understand, and
could not have known
given their limited
background. But then the
teacher explained
frustration in English
and the students seemed
to understand. But this
excursion into English
actually led them back
into Chinese, because
the teacher then
followed up by prompting
the students to think of
other ways in which the
two characters could be
used. One child
suggested fang pi,
meaning pass the gas in
English. The class
roared its appreciation,
but the teacher said
"Yes!" because the
phrase is also an
accurate construction.
Students practiced in
pairs phrases associated
with fang (unload or
pass, as in fang xue
(school is over) or fang
pi (pass the gas)). Then
the teacher asked them
to discuss in pairs
words they or their
parents used at home
similar to pass the gas
(fang pi). Not all
phrases formed by
students were as funny
as this one, although
there were several other
humorous ones, and not
all phrases formed were
correctly constructed.
As this learning episode
played itself out, every
child seemed immersed in
thinking in Chinese.
In the course of the
session, the instructor
used many different
teaching strategies to
engage the children's
attention. Her teaching
style was mainly
conversational and
inquiry-oriented, and
the children seemed to
like it. Indeed, I heard
their soft laughter of
enjoyment from time to
time.
After class, all of the
children ran to the
other side of the room
to watch TV or play with
the balls or anything
else that interested
them. When their parents
came to pick them up the
students did not want to
go, although it was
already around 9:00
p.m., and begged their
parents to allow them to
stay a bit longer. Two
children even cried when
their parents asked them
to hurry up.
What Parents and
Participants Said
During one of my
parental interviews, I
asked a parent if his
child liked to attend
the class on Friday
evening. He said, "Yes,
he enjoys coming here
and playing with other
children. Every Friday,
he can hardly wait." An
interview with a child
confirmed what the
parent said. In the
child's own words, "It
is so much fun there,
watching TV, playing
games with others."
In another interview, I
asked another parent
what she had done to
help her child learn
Chinese, including
reading and writing. She
said: "I think I have
tried my best to tell
them to use Chinese.
We've ended up mainly
using English because we
don't know what else to
do. Even if I ask them
something in Chinese,
they still respond to me
in English. Sometimes
I'm too lazy or too
tired to fight it, so I
just leave them alone
and speak English. No
matter how hard I have
tried, such as sending
them to the Chinese
class and speaking as
much Chinese as
possible, Chinese is
still losing its power.
It seems hopeless in
this English speaking
country; even when the
Chinese children are
together, they still
don't speak Chinese!"
Listening to her, I
could sense her
frustration.
I asked other parents
about how much time they
spent helping their
children with Chinese
and how long their
children spent in
reading and writing in
Chinese every week. The
parents could not give
me a clear answer. They
said things like, "Oh,
we try, but not for very
long." But when I
persisted in asking them
how long, they said,
"Well, we just require
they do their assignment
[from the Friday night
Chinese class]."
I also talked with the
teacher about my doubts.
She complained to me
that every Friday night
she had to remind the
children to put the new
materials in front
inside their folders.
She was afraid that
otherwise they might not
do it later if they
could not find it.
Besides, according to
her, the parents were
not really cooperative
and they did not really
care about their
children's Chinese. Most
of them did not help
their children on the
assignment nor even
check it for
correctness. In most
cases, she asked the
parents to help the
children with the
assignment she gave
them, but the children
reported back that their
parents did not have
time for that.
Consequently, she could
not complete the
teaching objectives as
planned and often had to
have remedial lessons.
However, when I asked
the parents about their
children's assignment,
they said they had tried
their best to help them,
such as listening to
them recite the story.
The parents also
reported to me that many
times when they asked
their children if they
had any assignment,
their children told them
there was no assignment,
or that the assignment
was so easy that it
would only take them a
few minutes to complete.
Epilogue
My field study ended in
April,. While in the
field I collected data
to drive away Mr. Doubts
from my mind. As a
result, parts of Mr.
Doubts left, but parts
of him stayed, still
perplexing me.
Analyzing the data I
collected in the
observations and the
interviews, I concluded
that the instructor's
pedagogical approach was
basically appropriate
for the mixed age level
of the children in the
class. I also came to
the conclusion that
parents were interested
in maintaining their
children's heritage
language. However, I
could find little
evidence of clear
teaching and learning
goals and objectives on
the part of the
instructor, the parents,
or the children. There
seemed to be no
expectations on the
parents' part about the
Friday night sessions
except that their
children have a chance
to be together with
other children who have
the same mother tongue.
On the part of the
instructor, her
expectation was mainly
that children should
complete the
assignments.
But what really is, or
should be, the function
of the Chinese class
every Friday? Is it
helping our children
master all of the basic
language skills we think
necessary? How much time
do we really spend
helping our children
with their reading and
writing in Chinese in
comparison with their
English? How much time
do our children really
spend studying Chinese
except for the
assignment and the class
time every week? Those
of us involved in the
program as parents and
instructor felt we had
tried, but did we really
try hard enough? Nobody
else but me seemed
particularly interested
in such questions. I
could see moments where
the children were really
learning Chinese, but
overall their engagement
and competence was low.
The current shift to
looking at the outcomes
of education-focusing on
what was learned rather
than what was supposedly
taught-would suggest
that no matter what is
attempted, if the
students don't learn
then no meaningful
teaching took place. In
the case of the Chinese
children in my study,
the instructor and
parents, including me,
thought we had tried to
create and take
advantage of every
possible chance for our
children to improve
their Chinese no matter
how busy we were. But if
our children are not
reaching a reasonable
level of competence in
Chinese, our attempts
are meaningless in the
long run.
It seems to me that to
turn this situation
around we parents first
need to clarify why we
send our children to the
class. Second, if
parents and the
instructor can truly
agree that the goal of
the class is to help our
children maintain their
first language rather
than just spend some
time together, we need
to reflect on what we
have been doing and make
changes to produce the
results we want. To
ensure that enough
learning really takes
place we need to set the
environment and provide
learning materials in
ways that will be
interesting and
stimulating; attractive
to children of the
appropriate ages. For
example, student work in
Chinese could be
displayed on walls, more
readable and interesting
(and authentic!) text
materials could be used,
and so forth. And all of
us need to make a
greater commitment to
results and not just
making attempts. There
should be clear and
consistent goals and
objectives for all of
us, the instructor, the
parents, and the
children. We cannot give
up. We simply cannot
afford to give up.
Trying is not enough;
success is waving its
lovely hands to us. I
think that if this
program were carried out
I could banish Mr.
Doubts forever.
Recalling the happy
laughter of the children
in the classroom and
their bright eyes, I
want to tell everybody:
"Don't complain that our
children haven't learned
much Chinese. Don't say
that they don't speak
Chinese even when they
are together. Our
children are
star-gazers; they like
to seek out whatever is
interesting. They love
learning, and Chinese
can be an interesting
territory for them to
explore if we have the
dedication. The factor
holding them back is us,
and our failure to
employ what is already
known about good
teaching and learning.
Trust me, our children
love learning Chinese as
well as English. If you
still have doubts about
it, go to the classroom
and see with your own
eyes."
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Author Groshan Fabiola |
Author Note
Huiping Ding, graduate
student in the
Department of Curriculum
and Instruction; Robert
M. Boody, Department of
Educational Psychology
and Foundations.
Correspondence
concerning this article
should be addressed to
Robert M. Boody,
Department of
Educational Psychology
and Foundations,
University of Northern
Iowa, Cedar Falls, Iowa
50614-0607. Electronic
mail may be sent via
Internet to Robert.Boody@uni.edu.
HUIPING DING ,
ROBERT M. BOODY ,
University of Northern
Iowa ,
Cedar Falls, Iowa
50614-0607
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