Blogging in Class

When I was in high school, my fondest wish was to have a portable typewriter. My forever ‘fairy’ godmother, Dr. Milagros Wonchai-Lim, gifted me with my first and only typewriter.

I loved my typewriter, I loved typing on it, and I loved the sound of the keys chasing one another in the middle of the night. I loved it so much that I wrote my doctoral dissertation on it.

Sometime in 1998, I was forced to learn how to use a computer. It took a while before the mouse and I became friends.

I learned how to e-mail in 1999. It was through the Internet that I found my first overseas teaching stint in Taiwan. Unlike in the Philippines, each faculty member in my Taiwanese university had a private office and a computer.

Since 2000, I’ve been pretty happy using the computer for typing purposes and the Internet for e-mailing and research purposes. Let’s fast-forward to the present.

In May 2008, a small group of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) to whom I belong decided to build a cyber home. We are, in fact, cyber pals who have been e-mailing one another since January 2008.

Maintaining a website was out of the question because we are a volunteer group without funds. It was decided that the best and fastest way to build a cyber home was to launch a blog.

A blog? What’s that?

It turned out that one of our core members who works in Scotland has a brother who’s working in Singapore. He’s an IT consultant to a multi-national bank based in Singapore and he knows how to blog.

Patiently, he tutored me about the basics of blogging. But I’m techno-phobic so we agreed that I’ll be the editor while he’ll be the technical administrator of our OFW blog. And so Barangay OFW was launched on June 22, 2008 in a coffee shop on Orchard Road in Singapore.

In July 2008, I signed up for a week-long workshop on Web 2.0 Reading-Writing Tools. I signed up for the week-long workshop because it was free for the university staff, and I sincerely wished to stop being ignorant about new technologies used in education.

However, I felt lost, angry, and frustrated during the workshop. There were too many terms I didn’t understand. There was too much information to absorb in so short a time. There were too many skills to master as shown in nonstop demonstrations. Instead of being empowered, I felt overwhelmed and helpless. My ignorance became much too painful to bear.

But I pressed on.

The first week of August, I attended the first International Conference on Teaching and Learning with Technology in Singapore. Organized by the Ministry of Education, it drew 1,800 participants from 20 countries.

Instead of hands-on workshops, it featured paper presentations which focused on the why’s, the what’s, and the how’s. Inspiring success stories were shared. Costly mistakes to avoid were also shared from hindsight.

Entertaining anecdotes made me laugh and made me forget my gaping ignorance. According to one speaker, Paul McCartney and George Harrison were classmates in school. But they didn’t shine in class. Their music teacher didn’t think they were talented at all. In fact, McCartney was turned down by the choir.

The speaker pointed out that McCartney and Harrison’s music teacher had half of the Beatles in class, but didn’t realize it.

Why? Because the traditional way of teaching suppresses creativity and imagination. Many students never ever get a chance to tap into their talents.

Where do Web 2.0 tools come in? They empower each and every student in class. They make the thinking, creating, and innovating process visible to everyone. They allow everyone to share and collaborate.

Another speaker shared his experiences working in a Lifelong Kindergarten project at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). He and his collaborators have developed a free software called SCRATCH available at: http://scratch.mit.edu/

Designed for children, it allows them to create stories and games and to share them online. Because SCRATCH has attracted the attention of parents, educators, and researchers, MIT organized the first SCRATCH Conference in July 2008 to evaluate what it has achieved and to map its future directions.

Happy that I had attended the first International Conference on Teaching and Learning with Technology in Singapore, I felt more confident in handling a course on Children’s Literature with an E-learning component.

How exactly do Web 2.0 tools work in the classroom? I didn’t know. I’ve never done it before. Fortunately, two able and amiable instructional designers are working with me. They assure me that I can focus on the content and the teaching while they give me IT support.

Each face-to-face class of my Children's Lit course has an E-task. Our first E-task was a class blog on Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I have 29 students who belong to two tutorial groups or sections. One group meets on Wednesdays; the other, on Thursdays.

They are full-time professional teachers who are part-time students. Some of them are digital-immigrants like me and have never done an E-task. Happily, after completing their second class blog on Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling, they all seem to have become blogging pros in two weeks’ time. Their next E-task is a Wiki, and we hope it will turn out as well as the blog.

Let me conclude this article by back-tracking:

Where do Web 2.0 tools come in? They empower each and every student in class. They make the thinking, creating, and innovating process visible to everyone. They allow everyone to share and collaborate.

I didn’t believe in this claim at first. Today, two weeks after using the blogging technology in class, I believe it and endorse it whole-heartedly. Why? Out of my 29 students, only a few have a chance to actively participate in a face-to-face class.

But in the class blog, each student has equal ‘air time.’ In fact, one is free to write as little or as much as she/he wishes. The most seemingly reticent student actually opens up and writes the most insightful observation. Inspired and empowered, they read more than the requirement and they share their informal research findings with everyone.

Truly, we are sharing and collaborating. Truly, we have embraced a new technology and have become lifelong learners!

English Honors

(Published in 2004 in FilamMegaScene, a Filipino-American magazine, based in Chicago, Illinois, USA.)

Wan an! This means “good night” in Mandarin. Echo, Vivian, and Selena had just dropped me off at my apartment near the gate of Da-Yeh University in Changhua, Taiwan. The three ladies are my students in English Honors IV. Our class had dinner at a steak house and the ladies gave me a ride home.

Did we have dinner because we were celebrating the end of the school year? No, we didn’t. We had a class, a regular class, in a real-world setting.

The Honors Program puts together the “cream of the crop” from the Colleges of Business, Design, Engineering, and Foreign Languages in my university. On top of their regular load, honors students take courses in English, culture, international relations as well as leadership and personality development.

Honors classes are small. A class is opened if there are at least three registered students. Usually, there are 10 students in a class. The honors students don’t pay any extra tuition fee although the university invests millions of dollars in the Honors Program. Teachers are paid, of course.

My English Honors IV class is the last of the required English courses for honors students. Only three are registered, but six more are attending the class to stay sharp in English. The other six have already completed the required English courses, in addition to having taken a winter course at Cambridge University in England this year.

At first, I wasn’t too eager to teach English Honors classes because they are scheduled in the evening. But the students are highly-motivated and always surpass my expectations. Let me show you what I mean.

For the English Honors IV class this semester, I prepared an integrated skills syllabus built around tourist spots in Taiwan. The idea was that we would read, talk, and write about one tourist spot every week.

Each student was supposed to bring one picture about the assigned tourist spot for the week. Instead of bringing one picture each, they brought albums, coffee table books, brochures, maps, posters, and sample souvenirs!

Our class is from 6:10 to 8:00 p.m. without a break. But we usually extend till 8:30 because they cannot stop talking. Once, I designed an in-depth self-introduction lesson. Instead of questions which ask for autobiographical data, I asked questions such as, “If you could become an animal, which animal would you choose and why?”

I got really interesting answers. Here’s an example: “I’d like to become an elephant. It needs very little sleep, it has no enemy, …” More than giving interesting answers, they really put their heart into getting to know one another more intimately.

They reacted to one another’s answers, asked follow-up questions, and offered their own opinions and experiences. They didn’t need me.

After the mid-terms, my English Honors IV students negotiated the syllabus with me by suggesting and voting on the class activities which they liked. Going to the night market and eating out were some of the activities which they chose.

They voted in favor of a “night market class” because they learned that I’d never been to one. So they took me. It’s a classic case of students educating their teacher!

The night market is like a wet market in the Philippines, but business hours are from 6:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. There are many stalls which sell novelty items, souvenirs, handcrafted goods, etc. in unbelievably cheap prices.

To cap the evening, we ate stinking tofu. The first bite was a little unsettling, but I swallowed it with a smile because they were all looking at me. Then I took a second bite, a third, a fourth… and then I got used to it and ate with a hearty appetite. I was tired and hungry from walking around.

For our “eating out class,” my students chose a buffet steak house. By the way, we go Dutch during our off-campus classes. After ordering our steak, the main course, we trooped to the buffet tables and helped ourselves to salads, soups, fruits, snacks, bread, drinks, and different flavors of ice cream. I simply loved the mint ice cream!

The food was fabulous, the conversation was crisp, and the interaction was intense. While eating with forks and knives nonchalantly, my students kept asking questions about my experiences in Taiwan and about life in the Philippines.

After four years in Taiwan, I have finally learned how to say, Ni jiao shenme ming zi? It means, “What’s your name?”

They were delighted to tell me their Chinese names and to teach me a few more Mandarin phrases like “Huang yin guang lin” (Welcome!) Our class had become a bilingual class with the teacher learning from the students!

I was talking to Vivian who was seated to my right when I overheard Erica and Selena mention someone named Larry. Always nosy, I asked who Larry was. Erica said, “He’s an English major. Do you know him?” “Oh,” I said. “Yes, of course, I know him.”

Then David who was seated to my left turned around as if to greet someone and said, “Hi, Larry!” I turned around, too, but Larry was nowhere. I asked, “Is Larry here? Where’s Larry?”

Everybody laughed and said, while looking at Selena, “In her mind!”

My honors students are not yet wholly fluent in English but they’re getting there. Although their grammar, pronunciation, vocabulary, and syntax may not be flawless, they’re able to ask questions, comprehend what they hear, respond spontaneously, ask follow-up questions, and share jokes and laughter – all in English.

Their thirst for knowledge, quest for wisdom, and joy in learning are infectious. Their sense of humor, cheerfulness, energy, and high spirits amaze me no end. Truly, they belong to a class all their own, the English Honors!

Taiwanese Students Dream – In English!

(Published in 2004 in FilamMegaScene, a Filipino-American magazine, based in Chicago, Illinois, USA.)

English is a foreign language in Taiwan. With the grammar-translation method very much alive, English language is taught and analyzed like a laboratory specimen.

Many teachers, lecturers, and professors of English teach in either Mandarin or Taiwanese. Teaching is also test-driven because students must pass English in qualifying examinations for different purposes.

Given this background, most of my freshman English major students at Da-Yeh University could hardly speak in English back in September 2000.

Suddenly, they were thrust into an international English Department with lecturers and professors from Taiwan, the U.S.A., Great Britain, South Africa, Canada, Hong Kong, Australia, Ireland, France, Germany, and the Philippines!

Listening to different accents of English was a big comprehension problem for my freshman English major students. But listening to them was pure agony for me. I prayed constantly for divine wisdom to help me understand what in heaven they were struggling to say. Making them read and write essays, short stories, feature articles, movie reviews, etc. were fierce and furiously-fought battles of Napoleonic proportions.

That was back then… almost four years ago. Today, my former freshman students are seniors already. The second batch of English majors, they will graduate on June 12, 2004.

The first batch, Class 2003, was first in everything – first to organize an English Week celebration, first to publish an English campus paper, and first to present an English graduation drama. Adapted from the film, Prince of Egypt, Class 2003’s graduation drama was a fabulous and breathtaking spectacle with magnificent costumes and stage props.

The second batch, Class 2004, wanted to present an English graduation drama, too. But the university gave the students a much smaller budget, compared to Class 2003’s budget. Why? First, the English Department is not a Literature Department; and second, there is no budget (but lots of money lying around) for a department-level graduation activity.

Undaunted, Class 2004 went ahead and started preparing its graduation drama. The core group – the movers, high-flyers, thinkers, and dreamers -- believed that the graduation drama was a symbol and rallying point for all seniors. They also felt that they must uphold the “tradition” left behind by the first batch.

The script was chosen and the auditions were held in May-June 2003. Entitled “Dream Weaver,” the script was adapted from the film, Billy Elliot. The son of a poor miner, Billy wanted to be a ballet dancer. But his father would rather have him learn boxing. Besides, there was no money for ballet because the miners were on strike. Ballet was an impossible dream.

In September 2003, some seniors asked me to help polish the script and to help the cast say their lines. Let’s fast-forward to February 24, 2004. As faculty advisers, Dr. Christopher Chen and I watched a rehearsal of Class 2004’s graduation drama at the school gym. It was 21 days before the performance date.

Did we have huge creative problems! The blocking was horrible, the body language was clumsy, vocal and facial expressions were nonexistent, and the dialogues were unintelligible. Was Class 2004’s graduation drama an impossible dream?

We had other supply and resources problems, too. It was time to close ranks. The faculty members as well as the junior, sophomore, and freshman students of the English Department all helped in every imaginable way.

Dr. Chen took care of the business and organizational problems. I focused on helping the cast become the characters assigned to each of them. We rehearsed almost every day starting on March 2. Jerry Cheng, the student director, took care of the production details and kept everyone together.

On March 17, the play date, Dr. Liling Chuang, Chair of the English Department, came to watch the warm-up rehearsal before the curtain time at 7:00 p.m.. With a happy smile, she whispered to me that everyone seemed to have been transformed.

True enough, at 6:30 in the evening, the gym theater was transformed from an indoor basketball/volleyball court into a glittering hall with blazing lights, complete with gold balloons, ribbons, and flowers. The ushers started welcoming guests with champagne and leading them to their seats. Admission was free. We were elated that many members of Class 2003 came to cheer and support Class 2004.

The lights were turned off and the curtains were drawn. Scene 1. A spotlight revealed a lone ballerina dancing onstage. Then Billy and his grandmother talked about having a dream and following one’s heart.

Cara Wang (Billy’s grandmother) is a quiet, soft-spoken, young lady who hardly ever speaks in class. But there she was, acting like a professional thespian. Were her hands trembling because she was too nervous? Was it part of the acting? But it was so natural that it made you feel like crying and clapping at the same time. There was a magic spell in the air. There was a sense of transport into another time and place.

Scene 2. Billy was at the gym for his boxing lesson. He and the ballet tutor met; she let him join the ballet class. It was a non-dramatic, unemotional scene. But it seemed so real. Queena Chen (ballet tutor) was regal, authoritative, funny, and human. People I didn’t know told me later that they were really amazed by Queena’s performance and her clear delivery.

Scene 4. The striking miners were at the picket line. The police were protecting scabs who were going to the coal mines to work. Then Billy’s brother, the leader of the strike, delivered a fiery activist’s speech. Perched on top of an artificial boulder, Robert Chen (Billy’s brother) finally became the angry, furious, oppressed, and eloquent leader of the miners.

Scene 15. Billy and Debbie were at the gym. Debbie was Billy’s ballet classmate and friend. She said she hated ballet and she really wanted to be a singer. Billy persuaded her to sing for him. As she sang, he improvised dance steps. All of a sudden, Billy’s father was out of the woodwork and was staring down at Billy. Instead of cowering in fear, Billy started dancing a ballet solo with acrobatic moves. The audience broke into a spontaneous and enthusiastic applause.

Everybody I spoke with told me they just loved this scene. They were pleasantly surprised that Claire Jian (Debbie) could sing with such a clear, beautiful voice. And they were astonished that Robert Chang (Billy) could dance with power and precision as a ballet soloist.

Scene 19. A letter from the Royal Ballet School in London had been delivered. It said that Billy had been admitted. Billy’s brother jumped down from the stage. Whooping it up like crazy, he told someone in the audience that his brother got in! The audience lapped it up. Then Billy hugged his grandmother and they cried together. Afterwards, Grandma coaxed Billy to go to his estranged father who was downstage left. After a moment of hesitation, Billy did. They hugged tightly, wordlessly, sobbing with the joy of reconciliation.

Quickly, the spotlight was turned off but the sobs could still be heard. Kevin Lai (Billy’s father) is a consistent, adept, and intelligent actor. He performed superbly in all his scenes, but this was his finest moment. My honors class who did a post-performance critique said it was the most touching scene.

The impossible dream has been attained. Class 2004’s graduation drama, “Dream Weaver,” has lived up to the high expectations established by Class 2003.

Will the university give Class 2005 a budget for another graduation drama? It should; it must. That drama productions should be limited to a Literature Department is a myth. In fact, drama productions big and small are highly effective in developing the communicative competence of EFL (English as a Foreign Language) students. It develops not only the four language skills, but also cultural literacy.

Sandra Savignon, author of the book Communicative Competence: Theory and Classroom Practice (1997), maintains that communicative curriculum design for the 21st century should include theater arts.

More importantly, the students imbibe the values of team work, discipline, resourcefulness, creativity, and interdependence while putting together a drama project. The rehearsals and production work are bonding moments for students and teachers.

What’s my answer to the argument that there is no budget for a department-level graduation activity? Make the graduation drama a university-level graduation activity! Let the College of Engineering and the College of Design take care of the technical and artistic sides of production. Let the College of Business take care of business matters.

Advertise the graduation drama all over the world. Invite the alumni, the parents of the graduating classes, the people in the community where the university is located, and all prospective students. Let it become an annual event to look forward to.

Who knows? English might soon become a second language in Taiwan.