Constructing Teacher Identity: A Narrative Reflection
James W. Porcaro, Japan
James W. Porcaro is a retired professor from Toyama University of International Studies. He now teaches there part-time as well as at several other institutions. His many interests and publications include the areas of literary translation in EFL instruction, teaching English for science and technology, task-based language teaching, African Studies and CLIL, and high school English teaching. E-mail: porcaro@tuins.ac.jp
Menu
Introduction
Teaching ESL: First recognition
In Africa: Another commitment
Developing some basic English teaching skills
Lessons from the inner city
In Japan: Teaching English as an international language
Teacher growth and development
Publication
Conclusion
References
There is a “messiness that is inherent in the ways in which teachers think about and carry out their work” (Johnson & Golombek, 2002, p.1). Yet teachers can impose some order on their thoughts and teaching practice through narrative reflection on their life experiences as teachers. Through such inquiry they can “uncover who they are, where they have come from, what they know and believe, and why they teach as they do” (p.5). They can make sense of their teaching practice and construct a professional and personal identity through the stories they relate about their teaching lives. Indeed, “teachers’ stories of inquiry are not only about professional development; they are professional development” (p.6). Moreover, knowledge generated through this process bears significance not only for the individual teacher but also for the accumulated scholarship of teaching itself.
Now in my sixth decade of teaching, I have a clear definition of my work and a firm sense of my identity as a teacher. Narrative reflection has been an important instrument in that process of development. Indeed, it is a lifelong process, as new challenges and experiences continually serve both to confirm and to refine that definition and identity. In this article, then, I take this “narrative turn” into my teaching life story with the intent that it may resonate with readers and have some relevance to their own work and professional lives, as well as encourage them to take up a narrative inquiry into their own teaching lives.
Lula Hobbs came up to me that evening when I had arrived at school, and in a tone of faux indignation asked me what I had done to her students, as they had told her they wanted me to come back and teach the class. That was in 1973 at Compton (California) Adult School where I had just started my work as an ESL (English as a second language) teacher on a substitute basis. I had greatly enjoyed my one month with Ms. Hobbs’ class (while she was on maternity leave) and with the positive response from the students I knew for sure that evening, at the age of 28, I had found my career. At the same time I recognized the very hard work it would take to become a good ESL teacher, particularly as at that school there was no mentor for guidance and support, and no textbooks or even a syllabus for my classes. I had only just completed a university summer course in TESL methods and materials and with that very limited knowledge in those circumstances I had to rely on my own creativity, instincts, and effort. I spent many hours at home before each lesson deciding what to do and how to do it, and making the lesson papers and materials. In fact, that early experience trained me well for the many years that followed to develop my own instructional plans and materials and to have the confidence to rely on myself to determine what to do and how to do it in my classes.
The Compton ESL evening classes were attended entirely by Mexicans, almost all of whom were lowly educated and unskilled laborers, struggling to make a life in the United States and a better one for their children or future families. Following three years in Compton, for the next five years I taught ESL in Los Angeles Adult School, with a much broader representation of students from around the world. Teaching ESL, I found it natural to feel a very deep commitment to the students and full responsibility for my work. My own Italian, Polish, and German grandparents had come to the United States just some 70 years before with little or nothing, but with the same aspirations and determination as the (mostly) young men and women in my classrooms. With hard work, sacrifice, and love of family they established the foundation for prosperity for following generations and the achievement of the American dream. I considered it a privilege, as well as a joy, to assist my immigrant students in their same quest.
Indeed, our life experiences as teachers happen in particular places and times, and among particular students and colleagues. They are situated in sociocultural and sociohistorical contexts from which we derive their meaning for ourselves (Johnson & Golombek, 2002). Starting more than five years before my initial ESL work in Compton, for the full three-year period from 1968 to 1970, my first teaching experience of any kind was in a remote rural area of Uganda as a U.S. Peace Corps volunteer mathematics teacher at a secondary school. My sense of commitment and responsibility there went beyond the individual students in my classes to the needs and aspirations of a newly independent country that had emerged from a period of colonial history.
Students’ peasant families paid their school fees with much hardship and students faced difficult national exams for university entrance in their pursuit of a better life. Yet, as the school was newly established and poor, it could not compete in academic achievement with many other secondary schools around the country. I knew that most of my students, in fact, would have neither a chance for further education nor a salaried job, and thus have to return to village life. The meaning of my teaching in those circumstances had to be found in more than just the instructional outcomes.
At that time, as later in Compton, there was no one at the school as a mentor for me and I had no training or background in teaching mathematics. Though my classes had textbooks, I had to conceive my own lesson ideas, develop the lesson plans, and design and make the lesson papers. I owned it all. I found meaning for my teaching in that preparation and presentation of the lessons themselves. Above all, I drew meaning from the existential reality of working with students in the classroom and those interpersonal relations in themselves. I found that I had to be in this work for myself as well as for my students; that is, to find meaning and satisfaction in the accomplishments and in the passion I put into my work itself.
Little did I know at that time in Uganda the relevance of teaching math for my later career as an English language teacher. My lessons had to be meticulously prepared and exceedingly carefully presented to students in English, which was their second (and often third or fourth) language. I had to speak very clearly, concisely and precisely, in a linear manner without divergences, with simple vocabulary and syntax, and at a pace, with measured phrasing and judicious repetition, so that students could follow and understand the principles and procedures of the operations given in the lesson. I was well prepared in that sense, then, for my later English lessons. Throughout my English teaching life I have continued to hone that skill and art of classroom speaking, and students have always told me how easy it is for them to understand me. This element of English language instruction is critical for building students’ confidence and motivation to learn the language, especially for students at early levels and for those with low language learning capability.
Another factor which has influenced the way in which I speak to students and plan my lessons is the fact that I am a poor language learner because of a particularly weak listening comprehension capacity. I have experienced frustration and very limited advancement in every language I have tried hard to learn, including African languages, Spanish, and Japanese. I know the way in which English language learners, especially those at low levels of proficiency, need to hear English spoken to them for understanding. Moreover, in my lessons I make sure that no student is ever humiliated or dispirited because of their weakness to use English in the classroom. I believe that often those who are able to learn foreign languages well may not be sensitive enough to this predicament of many students. I am reminded of how many of the best coaches of sports are those who themselves were not gifted athletes, but loved the sport, studied it, and mastered how to instruct it, especially to those who are not naturally gifted players.
After returning to the U.S. from Uganda, I completed a master’s degree in African Area Studies. Then, before starting to teach ESL, for one year I was a daily on-call substitute teacher at Los Angeles “inner-city” junior and senior high schools. Though usually my assignment at any school was for just a day, I gave the highest commitment to every lesson and to every student in my classes. Rare among substitutes, I always came to a school with a prepared lesson and I expected the students to attend to the lesson. I learned a lot from that experience about classroom management, especially the importance of establishing my moral authority and legitimacy as the teacher of the class and the one in charge of the class. I learned that students see through everything we are and do in the classroom. As Lemov (2010, p. 213) makes distinctly clear, it is utterly false to think that warmth and strictness in the classroom are opposites. The teacher must be both; indeed, often at exactly the same time. “When you are clear, consistent, firm, and unrelenting and at the same time positive, enthusiastic, caring, and thoughtful, you start to send the message to students that having high expectations is part of caring for and respecting someone. This is a very powerful message.” Once I covered a class for an absent teacher for one week. It was a difficult to manage junior high school class and I did the best I could. That was not unrecognized. At one point during the week a student spoke out in class, “You care about us more than Mr. Ivory [their homeroom teacher].”
I came to Japan in 1985 to continue my career as an English language teacher. However, in this new sociocultural context I had to find new meaning for my work and identity as a teacher. I came to find that here my commitment centers on establishing and nurturing Japanese students’ ownership of English as an international language and enabling students through their facility with English to participate in an international community if they choose to do so or must do so.
In his essay “Language and The Human Spirit”, Jim Cummins (2003) observes that “there is an inseparable linkage between the conceptions of language and human identity that we infuse in our classroom instruction.” In the context of the instructional choices we make, he notes that we must examine “the extent to which the classroom interactions we orchestrate build on and affirm the cultural, linguistic, intellectual and personal identities that students bring to our classrooms.” In the instructional settings in which I have taught in Japan, my aim has been to address this humanistic educational endeavor.
Make no mistake about it, the English language classroom is as authentic an environment, as much a part of the real world, as any other venue in society. There is nothing artificial or contrived in the human relations that are the essence of the culture of the classroom. The communication that takes place in the context of the classroom, having its own legitimate norms and conventions (Cullen, 1998), is as real as any other outside its walls. Indeed, the relations between teacher and students and among students themselves are often more intimate and genuine than those many people experience outside the classroom. As Azar (2007) remarks about communicative language practice, it takes account of the reality that students are in a classroom trying to learn English and it “means that real people are communicating in real time about real things in a real place for a real purpose.” It matters not that students may have little or no chance to use English outside the classroom.
For the first 14 years in Japan, until 1999, I worked at a two-year foreign language college in Osaka. Thereafter, across the island of Honshu, by the Sea of Japan, I taught as a university professor and now continue to instruct at several institutions in that location. The focus of my classroom lessons throughout the years has been on the lives of my students. Their ownership of English means that they accept the language, as their second language, to use to explore and expand their understanding of themselves and their society and culture, and to be able to communicate that understanding to others from outside their land. The student-centered, interactive, task-based lessons that make up most of my courses bring students together more closely perhaps than many have previously experienced and provide for the first time perhaps, especially for students at low levels of language proficiency, a genuine sense of accomplishment with the use of the language in a meaningful way in a communicative, participatory classroom environment.
Indeed, an integral element of students’ advancement in English language proficiency is their expression of thoughts, opinions, and feelings, and statement of knowledge and information, on matters within their life experiences and in the society around them. Using content from students’ own society and culture in the English language classroom greatly facilitates, encourages, and motivates their self-expression. Furthermore, such an instructional focus also establishes a necessary and vital bridge for many students that connects to a wider and deeper understanding of other peoples, cultures, and issues.
One of the great advantages to teaching at my age, by the way, is the fact that I have lived a longer life in Japan than any of my students. I’ve been through a cycle of life in Japan with my family. I know the lives of my students. I bring that personal experience and understanding to the classroom and my relationships with students, and to the meaningful lessons I prepare. I believe students sense all that and readily trust me, as I respect them in turn.
I became a much more complete teacher in Japan. Teaching ESL in California, I had been limited to teaching oral communication. At the language college in Osaka, immediately I had to extend my range of instruction to reading and writing, and soon to other areas. Especially important was my taking on a course in Japanese-to-English translation, though my Japanese proficiency was limited and I had no background in that area. I educated myself in the principles of translation and in Japanese literature, and developed a unique course of literary translation which I taught for 14 years at the college and later at university.
Teaching translation of literature in the native language of students into English turns on its head the customary approach of students’ learning about the cultures of English-speaking countries in English as a foreign language (EFL) instructional settings. The task of translating literature in their first language into English as their second language deepens students understanding and appreciation of their own language and literature, enhances their social and cultural awareness of their own country, and extends that sensitivity as well to a global scale. Moreover, literary translation can be a remarkable instrument for language learning.
I advise especially younger teachers to continually seek and accept new challenges in the profession in order to grow and develop at their craft and to sustain their passion for their work. In my early years at the foreign language college in Osaka I became the academic supervisor of the English program, in charge of ten full-time teachers from several countries. I had never intended or expected to have such a role and had no previous experience of that sort, but circumstances compelled me to take the position. The challenges and accomplishments, both professional and personal, were many and rewarding. Particularly, the more than one hundred classroom observations and follow-up discussions with teachers that I conducted in that capacity allowed opportunities for all of us to share instructional knowledge and personal experiences in a supportive community of practice.
In 2000, 28 years after I had completed my master’s degree in African Studies, came an opportunity to teach it. I first had to re-educate myself in that field, and then developed and taught for ten years perhaps the only African studies course taught in English at a Japanese university. The work gave me enormous satisfaction. In addition to the profitable English language learning encounter, the integration of content and language instruction in a full-year course gave students a solid academic introduction to Africa, a strong personal experience with the subject, and a wider vision and understanding of the world and themselves as part of the human community. Moreover, I have been able to extend some sense of this experience to younger students as I have presented “Introducing Africa” lectures at many local high schools.
Another new and different endeavor that I undertook was teaching English for science and technology (EST). I accepted the opportunity to teach a university course in English for Earth Science and, later, English for Electrical Engineering and for Mechanical Engineering. As I had no previous background in this field of instruction, once again I educated myself, not only in approaches to teaching EST but also in the content areas themselves. My commitment to this work was magnified by the evident responsibility. These courses had immediate and direct relevance for the students in these fields for their university studies and research, and later employment.
Teaching weekly classes at the high school affiliated with the university at which I was professor, starting in 2004, brought me full circle back to my first teaching work 36 years before. These lessons have expanded the range of my instruction and the school’s designation by the Ministry of Education as a Super English Language High School (SELHi) from 2004 to 2010 provided me the opportunity to be a member of the advisory committee for that program. This involved over the years many classroom observations of the Japanese teachers of English and follow-up advisement both within the committee and individually. The high school teachers also have observed my lessons there from time to time. I have appreciated very much the chance to give back something as a mentor to these teachers as I had lacked any such person in my own early years of teaching.
As described by Richards (2011, p.6), a community of practice “involves a group of people who have common interests and who relate and interact to achieve shared goals [and] focuses on exploring and resolving issues related to the workplace practices that members of the community take part in.” Being a member of the ongoing community of practice at the high school, learning and sharing among very dedicated teachers, has been one of the most gratifying experiences of my career in Japan.
In the 1990s I was often urged by one colleague in particular to write and publish on my instructional work. I usually answered, “If anyone is really interested in what I do, they can come to see me in class any time.” I realized later how that excuse entirely missed the point. In fact, I started to publish at age 52, in 1998, when I understood the necessity to do so in order to obtain a university teaching position. Shortly after I had secured such a position, I completed a master’s degree in Education for teaching English to speakers of other languages (TESOL) by distance study from a university in Australia. With the rather heavy writing assignments, I re-learned how to do academic research and writing. That work gave me the opportunity to engage in a reflective review of my teaching practice and to structure my teaching knowledge and experiences within a critical pedagogical framework.
I used that momentum as a springboard for further publication and by now I have had nearly 70 articles published in English language teaching journals and other publications. I have written multiple articles about each of the instructional areas mentioned in the previous sections of this article and many others. The critical reflection required for writing for publication has clarified the meaning of my teaching. This has been vital for reaching a clear identity of myself as a teacher and for “the development of a personal system of knowledge, beliefs, and understandings drawn from the practical experience of teaching…. [and] the development of a personal teaching philosophy” (Richards, 2011, p.5). Equally important, writing for publication is a privilege to share my experiences, ideas, and feelings with a much wider international community of practice, as here in the “humanistic forum” of HLT.
I am 69 years old, retired from my university professorship (as required by age limits in Japan), and currently teaching as a part-timer at two universities, a junior college, a high school, and a company. I teach as many classes per week as I ever have and, on the authority of the consistent responses of my students on course questionnaires, I can say that I teach with as much or more passion and quality as I ever have.
Meaning for me as a teacher has always been drawn from and defined by the daily classroom experience itself and its context. Each teacher must construct the meaning of his work and his identity for himself. It is an existential process as we make choices based on our experiences, beliefs, and outlook, and take full responsibility for the teachers we are. I am proud of being the teacher I am. I feel fortunate to have had the encounters and successes I have recounted in this narrative reflection, and I look forward to many more years in the classroom. I hope that teachers have benefited in some way from reading my story and will take up a narrative inquiry into their own teaching lives. Their stories will be part of their own professional development as well as contributions to the acquired knowledge of teaching itself. I hope that fellow teachers, especially those a generation or more younger than I, may also keep their fire alive for many years into the future.
Azar, B. (2007). Grammar-Based Teaching: A Practitioner's Perspective. TESL-EJ, 11 (2). http://www.cc.kyoto-su.ac.jp/information/tesl-ej/ej42/a1.html
Cullen, R. (1998). Teacher-talk and the classroom context. ELT Journal, 52 (3), pp. 179-187.
Cummins, J. (2003). Language and the human spirit. TESOL Matters, 13 (1).
Johnson, K., & Golombek, P. (2002). Teachers’ narrative inquiry as professional development. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Lemov, D. (2010). Teach like a champion: 49 techniques that put students on the path to college. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Richards, J. (2011). Exploring teacher competence in language teaching. The Language Teacher, 35 (4), pp. 3-7.
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