Today was the first day of the Fall semester. I’ve been teaching at least one elementary French course at the University for about five years. Previously, I taught high school French 1-4, but that ended in 1996, creating a gap of 21 years since I endeavored to engage others in the love of the French language and francophone culture. (Take note that left the French classroom just as the Internet was being integrated into classrooms around North Carolina, so you can imagine the contrast and impact the Internet has made on my university teaching.) For a variety of reasons, I’ve chosen to write about teaching a world language, specifically French, now. Primary among these is the need to attend to my own professional growth as an educator, to be that “reflective practitioner” I promote to my graduate students in education. Secondarily, by reading this reflection as well as others to follow, I hope you find benefit in my insights and ideas.
The first day should not be taken lightly. I realized a long time ago that it is THE moment to engage the learner and give them a taste of what the class will be about. But not simply an overview of the class. This is the time to create an experience so that the learner can “feel” what it learning in this particular class will be like. It is not a time to review the entire syllabus (in English), to emphasize classroom and institutional procedures and policies, nor is it the time to talk ad nauseam about yourself. This, fellow educators, is the moment when students need to see your enthusiasm and disposition as their language learning leader. It’s about the tone you set for the course, for the semester or year. Do you want students to leave on the first day with a memory of policies and procedures, do’s and dont’s, or do you want them to leave with a higher serotonin level and a confirmation that this is the course they want to take?
I always make the first day one to remember. It is as immersive as possible, providing ample scaffolding to support comprehensible input while at the same time creating a bit of tension so as to engage, not frustrate. The lesson begins with a confirmation (in French) that this is indeed the French class, followed by my self-introduction accompanied by the actual text I speak and associated images. Later in the class, I break into English, but not before I ask students to discuss with a partner the following:
- What did you understand about the mini-lesson thus far?
- How did you understand it?
- How did you feel during the lesson?
Throughout this lesson, and in fact in every lesson I teach, I treat students questions and answers as an invitation to introduce new language forms, A.k.a. “grammar and vocabulary,” and language functions, A.k.a., “what one does with the language forms.” For example, in response to a student who volunteered during class, I offered for the first time the word “Merci” (Thank you). Not too long thereafter, when I paused for a “check for understanding,” this student harkened the introduction of the word “Merci” by asking,
So, if “Merci” means “Thank you,” then how do we say “You’re welcome?”
This was perfect. The motivation for learning something new came from the student. It was organic and it satisfied the need to make connections. In other words, the student-generated question drew attention to a basic premise that I hold dear in my teaching: language functions don’t exist in a vacuum. It makes perfect sense to teach “Thank you” and “You’re welcome” together because they are a part of the same pragmatic interaction. The social context of thanking someone is often, not always, accompanied by an acknowledgement by the other interlocutor. Furthermore, since this expression is always initially introduced during an elementary course, it makes sense to me to respond to student inquiries like this one. It fosters co-creation and shared responsibility for language learning. It allows students to understand that a healthy community of language learners, while perhaps organized by a designated leader (the teacher), is shaped and driven by the needs of the collective.
If you’ve read to this point, I offer a “Merci.” I hope this reflection resonates with you as a validation, a new insight, or an opportunity to consider your own practice – or all of these! I would love to know your thoughts. What does organic teaching like this mean to you? How do you set a tone for the course? What is the role of community in your classroom?
Thanks for reading.
Bobby