Language Learning and Teaching

     If you were to try to unify or to integrate everything that every second language researcher concluded, or even everything listed in the previous sections, you could not do so through the doubting game. But by balancing your perspective with a believing attitude toward those elements that are not categorically ruled out, you can maintain a sense of perspective. If someone were to tell you, for example, that your class of adult learners will without question experience difficulty because of the critical period hypothesis ("the younger the better"), you might first play the believing game by embracing the statement in a genuine dialog with the claimant. After a discussion of context, learner variables, methodology, and other factors, it is quite likely that both of you will become clearer about the claim and will reach a more balanced perspective. The alternative of quickly dismissing the claim as so much balderdash leaves little room open for an intelligent exchange.

2. Appreciate both the art and science of SLA.

Not unrelated to balancing believing games and doubting games is the notion that SLA can be seen as both an art and a science. Several decades ago, Ochsner (1979) made a plea for a "poetics" of SLA research in which we use two research traditions to draw conclusions. One tradition is a nomothetic tradition of empiricism, scientific methodology, and prediction; this is the behavioristic school of thought referred to in Chapter 1. On the other hand, a hermeneutic (or, in Chapter 1, the cognitive/rationalistic) tradition provides us with a means for interpretation and understanding in which we do not look for absolute laws. "A poetics of second language acquisition lets us shift our perspectives," according to Ochsner (p. 71), who sounded very much like he had been reading Peter Elbow!

     Schumann (1982a) adopted a similar point of view in recommending that we see both the "art" and the "science" of SLA research. Noting that Krashen and McLaughlin have had two different experiences themselves in learning a second language, Schumann suggests that "Krashen's and McLaughlin's views can co-exist as two different paintings of the language learning experience—as reality symbolized in two different ways" (p. 113). His concluding remarks, however, lean toward viewing our research as art, advantageous because such a view reduces the need of closure and allows us to see our work in a larger perspective with less dogmatism and ego involvement. In short, it frees us to play the believing game more ardently and more fruitfully.

     The artful side of theory building will surely involve us in the creative use of metaphor as we seek to describe that which cannot always be empirically defined. Some scholars caution against using metaphor in describing SLA because it gives us "license to take one's claims as something less than serious hypotheses" (Gregg 1993: 291). But Lantolf (1996) made a plea for the legitimacy of metaphor in SLA theory building. Much of our ordinary language is metaphorical, whether we realize it or not, and a good many of our theoretical statements utilize metaphor. Think of some of the terms used in this book: transfer, distance, filter, monitor, equilibration, automatic, device. How would we describe SLA without such terms? (I have pushed the metaphorical envelope in the vignette at the end of this chapter.) It would appear that as long as one recognizes the limitations of metaphors, then they have the power to maintain the vibrancy of theory.

3.  Trust (to some extent) your intuition.

Teachers generally want to "know" that a method is "right," that it will work successfully. We want finely tuned programs that map the pathways to successful learning. In other words, we tend to be born doubters. But the believing  game  provides  us  with  a  contrasting  principle, intuition. Psychological research on cognitive styles has shown us that people tend to favor either an intuitive approach or an analytical approach to a problem. Ewing (1977: 69) noted that analytical or "systematic" thinkers "generally excel in problems that call for planning and organization, as when one set of numbers must be worked out before another can be analyzed." On the other hand, he went on, "intuitive thinkers are likely to excel if the problem is elusive and difficult to define. They keep coming up with different possibilities, follow their hunches, and don't commit themselves too soon." Sternberg and Davidson (1982) found that "insight"—making inductive leaps beyond the given data—is an indispensable factor of what we call "intelligence," much of which is traditionally defined in terms of analysis.

     All this suggests that intuition forms an essential component of our total intellectual endeavor. In looking at the contrasting role of intuition and analysis in educational systems in general, Bruner and Clinchy (1966: 71) said, "Intuition is less rigorous with respect to proof, more visual or iconic,' more oriented to the whole problem than to particular parts, less verbalized with respect to justification, and based on a confidence in one's ability to operate with insufficient data."

     One of the important characteristics of intuition is its nonverbalizability; often, persons are not able to give much verbal explanation of why they have made a particular decision or solution. The implications for teaching are clear. We daily face problems in language teaching that have no ready analysis, no available language or metalanguage to capture the essence of why a particular decision was made. Many good teachers cannot verbalize why they do what they do, in a specific and analytical way, yet they remain good teachers.

     Intuition involves a certain kind of risk-taking. As we saw in Chapter 6, language learners need to take risks willingly. Language teachers must be willing to risk techniques or assessments that have their roots in a "gut feeling," a hunch, that they are right. In our universe of complex theory, we still perceive vast black holes of unanswerable questions about how people best learn second languages. Intuition, "the making of good guesses in situations where one has neither an answer nor an algorithm for obtaining it" (Baldwin 1966:84), fills the void.

   There is ample evidence that good language teachers have developed good intuition. In an informal study of cognitive styles among ESL learners a few years ago, I asked their teachers to predict the TOEFL score that each of their students would attain when they sat for the TOEFL the following week. The teachers had been with their students for only one semester, yet their predicted scores and the actual TOEFL results yielded the highest (+.90) correlations in the whole study.

   How do you "learn" intuition? There is no simple answer to this question, yet some ingredients of a rationale are apparent:

1. First, you need to internalize essential theoretical foundations like those we have been grappling with throughout this book. Intuition is not developed in a vacuum. It is the product, in part, of a firm grounding in what is known, in analytical terms, about 
   how people learn languages and why some people do not learn languages.
2. Second, there is no substitute for the experience of standing on your own two feet (or sitting down!) in the presence of real learners in the real world. Intuitions are formed at the crossroads of knowledge and experience. As you face those day-by-day, or even minute-by-minute, struggles of finding out who your learners are, deciding what to teach them, and designing ways to teach, you learn by trial, by error, and by success. You cannot be a master teacher the first time you teach a class. Your failures, near failures, partial successes, and successes all teach you intuition. They teach you to sense what will work and what will not work.
3. A third principle of intuition learning follows from the second. You must be a willing risk-taker yourself. Let the creative juices within you flow freely. The wildest and craziest ideas should be entertained openly and valued positively. In so doing, intuition will be allowed to germinate and to grow to full fruition.

* * * 

Our search for an adequate theory of SLA can become thwarted by overzealous attempts to find analytical solutions. We may be looking too hard to find the ultimate system. As Schumann (1982a) said, at times we need to feel, ironically, that our own ideas are unimportant. That way we avoid the panicky feeling that what we do today in class is somehow going to be permanently etched in the annals of foreign language history. The relevance of theory can be perceived by adopting an essential attitude of self - confidence in our ability to form hunches that will probably be "right." We teachers are human. We are not fail-safe, preprogrammed robots. We therefore need to become willing risk-takers.

Out on a Limb: The Ecology of Language Acquisition

This final end-of-chapter vignette is not directed, in the usual fashion, toward classroom methodology. Rather, it is simply the product of some of my right-brain musings as I have struggled over the years with the complexities of the kinds of models of SLA that have been described in this chapter. Such models, in their graphic or flow chart form (Bialystok's model in Figure 10.2 on page 285, for example), always appear to be so mechanical. Some of them more closely resemble the wiring diagrams pasted on the back of electric stoves than what I like to imagine the human brain must "look" like. Or certainly than the way our organic world operates!

     So, heeding my sometimes rebellious spirit, I was moved one day in a SLA class I was teaching to create a different "picture" of language acquisition: one that responded not so much to rules of logic, mathematics, and physics, as to botany and ecology. The germination (pun intended) of my picture was the metaphor once used by Derek Bickerton in a lecture at the University of Hawaii about his contention that human beings are "bioprogrammed" for language (see Bickerton's [1981] The Roots of Language), perhaps not unlike the bioprogram of a flower seed, whose genetic makeup predisposes it to deliver, in successive stages, roots, stem, branches, leaves, and flowers. In a burst of wild artistic energy, I went out on a limb to extend the flower-seed metaphor to language acquisition. My picture of the "ecology" of language acquisition is in Figure 10.3.

     At the risk of overstating what may already be obvious, I will nevertheless indulge in a few comments. The rain clouds of input stimulate seeds of predisposition (innate, genetically transmitted processes). But the potency of that input is dependent on the appropriate styles and strategies that a person puts into action (here represented as soil). Upon the germination of language abilities (notice not all the seeds of predisposition are effectively activated), networks of competence (which, like underground roots, cannot be observed from above the ground) build and grow stronger as the organism actively engages in comprehension and production of language. The resulting root system (inferred competence) is what we commonly call intake. Notice that several factors distinguish input from intake. Through the use of further strategies and affective abilities, coupled with the feedback we receive from others (note the tree trunk), we ultimately develop full-flowering communicative abilities. The fruit of our performance (or output) is of course conditioned by the climate of innumerable contextual variables.

     At any point the horticulturist (teacher) can irrigate to create better input, apply fertilizers for richer soil, encourage the use of effective strategies and affective enhancers, and, in the greenhouses of our classrooms, control the contextual climate for optimal growth!

     No, this is not the kind of extended metaphor that one can "prove" or verify through empirical research. But, lest you scoff at such outlandish depictions, think about how many factors in SLA theory are conceptualized and described metaphorically: language acquisition device, pivot and open words, Piaget's equilibration, cognitive pruning, Ausubel's subsumption, transfer, social distance, global and local errors, monitoring, affective filter, automatic and controlled processing. If a metaphor enables us to describe a phenomenon clearly and to apply it wisely, then we can surely entertain it—as long as we understand that these word-pictures are usually subject to certain breakdowns when logically extended too far. (For comments about metaphor in SLA theory, see Lantolf 1996)

So, while you might exercise a little caution in drawing a tight analogy between Earth's botanical cycles and language learning, you might just allow yourself to think of second language learners as budding flowers—as plants needing your nurture and care. When the scientific flow charts and technical terminology of current second language research become excruciatingly painful to understand, try creating your own metaphors, perhaps! Play the believing game, and enjoy it.

TOPICS AND QUESTIONS FOR STUDY AND DISCUSSION

[Note: (I) Individual work; (G) group or pair work; (C) whole-class discussion.]

1. (G) In the first part of this chapter on pages 274 and 275, Lightbown's (1985) ten generalizations about SLA are listed. In pairs or small groups (if numbers permit) assign one generalization to each pair/group with the task of (a) explaining the generalization further, (b) offering any caveats or "it depends" statements about it, and (c) citing an example or two of the generalization in the language classroom.
2. (G) Likewise (see item 1 above), look at the six "myths" (page 275). In small groups, figure out  a(a) why it is a myth, (b) caveats or comments that qualify the statement, and (c) some examples or counter-examples in the language classroom.
3. (I)Review the major tenets of the three schools of thought outlined in 
   Chapter 1 and referred to throughout the book: structuralism-behaviorism, rationalism-cognitivism, constructivism. Do Krashen's Input Hypothesis and the cognitive models of people like Mclaughlin and Bialystok and Ellis fit the second school of thought? How so? Ask the same questions about Longs Interaction Hypothesis for the third school.
4. (C) Review the five tenets of Krashen's Input Hypothesis. Which ones are most plausible? least plausible? How would you take the "best" of his theories and apply them in the classroom and yet still be mindful of the various problems inherent in his ideas about SLA? How do Larsen- Freeman's caveats about chaos theory and Long's criteria (pages 276 and 277) enlighten your evaluation of Krashen's model?
5. (G) In pairs, each assigned to one topic below, think of examples in learning a foreign language (inside or outside a classroom) that illustrate: (a) HIGs and LIGs, (b) McLaughlin's focal and peripheral processes, (c) McLaughlin's controlled and automatic stages, (d) implicit and explicit linguistic knowledge, (e) interaction as the basis of acquisition.
6. (I/G/C) If you have quite a bit of time, try devising a "model" of SLA that doesn't use prose as much as a visual, graphic, or kinesthetic metaphor. For example, you might create an SLA board game in which players have to throw dice and pass through the "pits of puberty," the "mire of mistakes," the "falls of fossilization," and so on. Or, you could create a chart something like Bialystok's (Figure 10.2, page 285) model. Do this individually, or in pairs/groups, for "homework," then share your creation with the rest of the class.Try to defend your model on the basis of at least some of the criteria for a viable theory presented by Larsen-Freeman or Long (pages 276 and 277).
7. (G/C) Suppose you have been invited to an international symposium on SLA, the goal of which is to devise a theory of SLA. Each person can bring three and only three tenets or generalizations to be included in the theory. In groups or pairs, decide on three such tenets (or, at least, domains of consideration) that you consider the most important to include. Defend your three on the basis of Larsen-Freeman's or Long's lists, if appropriate, found on pages 276 and 277. Share findings with the class and see if the class can create a composite picture of the most important features of a theory of SLA.
8. (I) Consider some of the controversies that have been discussed in this book: innateness, defining intelligence, the Whorfian hypothesis, the strong version of the Contrastive Analysis Hypothesis, Krashen's Input Hypothesis, and others. Play the believing game with what might be labeled the "unpopular side" of the controversy. How does it feel? How does it help to put things into balance? In what way are both games necessary for ultimate understanding?
9. (I) Go back to the definitions of language, learning, and teaching that you formulated at the beginning of this book. How might you revise those definitions now?
10. (G) Pairs or groups should each make a list of characteristics of a "successful language teacher." What steps do you think you could take to train yourself to be more successful? That is, what are your weaknesses and strengths, and how might you work on those weaknesses from what you know so far about foreign language teaching?

SUGGESTED READINGS

     TESOL Quarterly, Winter 1990 issue.

This issue was entirely given over to the scope and form of theories of SLA. Articles by leading theorists (Mclaughlin, Bialystok, Long, Schumann, Spolsky, and others) provided a good sense of issues in theory-making.

     Krashen, Stephen. 1997. Foreign Language Education: The Easy Way. Culver City, CA: Language Education Associates.

For a quick, popularized version of Krashen's ideas about SLA, pick up this little 62-page tract written for classroom teachers.

     Ellis, Rod. 1997. SLA Research and Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford

University Press.

     Ellis, Rod. 1994.  "A theory of instructed second language acquisition." In Ellis, Nick (Ed.). 1994b. Implicit and Explicit Learning of Language. London: Academic Press, (pp. 79-114).

Rod Ellis's proposal for a theory of instructed second language acquisition gives a good picture of his view of the role of input and interaction and implicit and explicit knowledge in SLA. An earlier version of his theory is presented in the 1994 article.

     Modern Language Journal, Fall 1998 issue.

This issue consists of six articles on the topic of input and interaction in second language acquisition. Most of these are not difficult, technical reading. The lead article by Gass, Mackey, and Pica offers an informative overview.

     Lantolf, James P. 1996."SLA theory building: Letting all the flowers bloom!" Language Learning 46:713-749.

Lantolf presents some tough but rewarding reading on the place of metaphor in SLA theories, with a balanced perspective on theories in SLA and other disciplines.

LANGUAGE LEARNING EXPERIENCE: FINAL JOURNAL ENTRY

[Note: See pages 18 and 19 of Chapter 1 for general guidelines for writing a journal on a previous or concurrent language learning experience.]

• At the beginning of the chapter, nine statements were made that correspond to the previous nine chapters in this book. Choose two or three of those nine (more if you have time), and write about your own language learning experience in relation to the topic.
• What do you think, in your own experience as a language learner, is the most useful aspect of Krashen's Input Hypothesis, and what is the least useful?
• Think of an example in your own learning of each of Mclaughlin's four cells: (1) Focal-controlled; (2) Peripheral-controlled; (3) Focal-automatic; (4) Peripheral-automatic. Write them in your journal in a chart format and comment.
• If you didn't do item 5 on page 297 for class, take on that assignment of creating a largely nonverbal model of SLA.
• Given everything you now know about learning a second language, what are the characteristics of a successful teacher? How did your own foreign language teacher measure up?
• What did you like the most about writing this journal? the least? What benefit did you gain from the journal-writing process?