STREETWISE GRAMMAR - A CASE FOR PRAGMATIC GRAMMAR TEACHING
Raf Erzeel, Lessius Hogeschool, Antwerp, Belgium
Grammar teachers do not know which way to turn these days: on the one hand, grammar is praised as the foundation of all language teaching, whereas on the other hand, any mention of the g-word may provoke extremely hostile reactions. Godsend or son of Satan - those seem to be the options. At the same time, however, there must be whole armies of teachers who are well aware of both drawbacks and advantages of using grammar in a complete TEFL teaching strategy. I belong to this group, and highly interesting though I may find theoretical discussions as an intellectual challenge, my first concern is with the practical problems of teaching grammar. There are pupils or students to be guided towards a certain level of proficiency in English, within a very strict time frame, with mostly limited resources. Anyone in this situation has to be pragmatic, and extend that pragmatic approach to the grammar factor in their teaching. Here I want to make out a case for such pragmatic use of grammar in teaching English.
Indulge me while I start off with a comparison. A language, in my opinion, is much like a bustling city - very much alive with its permanent inhabitants (its natives), but also with occasional visitors. The city changes its appearance slowly over the years, but will always be recognisably the same, and it is the natives who will be hard put to actually notice the way in which the city is changing. They might notice particular changes - and maybe oppose those vehemently - and mourn the loss of particular buildings or the drastic renovation of others, but only very few of them will have a complete overview of the overall change and its purpose (or lack of it). Occasional visitors, though, will cry out 'How much everything has changed since my last visit', and will be able to describe the change in more general terms.
Some aspects of the city are more resistant to change than others, however. The lay-out of the streets, for instance, changes very little, if at all; as such, city maps are eminently useful to the visitor, because he can keep his old map for years and years, and it will not fail him when he next visits the city. If the city is a language, then its map is its grammar. Grammar - just like a map - is quite resistant, though not immune, to change, especially if we only look at its general outline - or at a small-scale map. Not everyone is equally happy with a map; some people fall apart completely when asked to read a map - they are the ones who will hold it upside down, who simply cannot grasp the concept of scale, who just cannot see the link between the real-life city and lines on a piece of paper. But there are also many enthusiasts who would never dream of visiting a city abroad without the aid of a map; some will even derive pleasure from poring over the map for hours in preparation of the actual visit.
The grammar of a language can be taught on many different levels, quite simplified or more detailed - we suit the map to the purpose of the visitor. The more detailed the map/grammar though, the more we have to be aware of constant minute changes. A general rule (-s for a third person singular of the verb in the simple present, for instance) may seem to be absolutely fixed, just like Piccadilly Circus on a map of London, or Broadway in New York, but 'on the street' there are all kinds of (new) variations. Very detailed maps may show the slightest bend in a road, but it is only when you are actually walking through the actual city that you may notice that one of the buildings is subsiding, or that the pavement is in need of repair. A particular road, which features on the map as straight as ever before, in reality is being used less and less often by traffic, whereas the road parallel to it has to cope with more and more traffic. One syntactic construction is getting preference over another.
It seems clear to me that what we need to offer our learners is much more than just grammar, and certainly more than just grammatical theory. The map of a city as such will only interest very few, and the question is whether that kind of interest is healthy in the first place. Learners need much more information about the city/language, so that they can combine that information with the abstract information of the map/grammar. When they are shown how to put things on the map, they might actually see the sense of the map itself, and begin to consider the map a handy tool - which is exactly what it is, from a tourist's /language user's point of view. But more than this, we need to bring our learners into contact with the real language as it is spoken and written in its native city - we need to go on a field trip to the city.
Only by walking along the streets, seeing the landmarks, looking around (with a little guidance, maybe) will the learners get a sense of direction. Some will actually get out their maps to solve the problem of whether to take a left or right turn, and some will prefer to take a gamble and run the risk of having to double back. But all of them will slowly but surely build up a mental map, their very own internal guide to the city. Who are we to insist that the mental map is built up carefully along the lines of the geographical (grammatical) map? Those who find their way around without referring too much to the map may actually be better acquainted with the city than others who have studied the map to excess and cannot make the step from paper to stone. Anyway, most natives manage perfectly without any maps at all.
I have taken this comparison much too far, I know, and I can hardly blame all those who have stopped reading by now. My apologies. Let us go back to un-metaphorical grammar teaching. Grammar for grammar's sake is surely a thing of the past, and most course books offer a much more practical and integrated form of grammar and grammar practice. Yet we still find those traditional, boring, mind-numbing drill exercises everywhere. No wonder that learners faced with them hate 'grammar', and that theoreticians and pedagogues condemn it. But condemnation of a particular kind of grammar teaching and practice does not need to lead to outright banishment of any grammar from TEFL; that is an overreaction. There is a solution, a pragmatic approach to grammar teaching, in which learners are made aware of certain guidelines that still do exist in English, but in which those guidelines (all right, I am not afraid of calling them 'rules', if you prefer that word) are put in context, and most of all in the context of meaning. Once you can convince learners that there is a big difference in meaning between 'Granny has baked many cakes in her life' and 'Granny baked many cakes in her life' - it is a matter of life or death, after all - they may actually see the sense in those very abstract notions of 'simple past' and 'present perfect'.
Much depends on the kind of learners you are dealing with, and the level of proficiency they and you want to reach. If the aim is a purely practical, limited knowledge of English for simple communication purposes, grammar in the form of rules may be almost superfluous, but as soon as the desired level is higher in quality or wider in application, grammar, in some form or other, will become necessary. And it is probably here that the confusion and controversy find their origins: when some pedagogues say they can do without grammar, they actually mean doing without theoretical grammar, and when others say grammar is an absolutely essential part of language teaching, they may mean applied grammar; the two 'conflicting' points of view come down to exactly the same thing.
In Belgium, grammar (both in theoretical and applied form) has traditionally formed an important part of the curriculum for English classes, certainly in secondary education that focuses on languages, or in higher education. Even though the tendency over the past decades has been towards a more communicative approach and less stress on grammar, most teachers will have to admit that abstract grammatical categorisations such as 'past perfect progressive', 'conditional', 'non-defining relative clause' etc. still play an important role in their English classes. I do not want to argue the case for or against the use of such terminology here, but rather consider the way in which those terms can be made 'real' for learners. Once the learners see the need for the practical application and use of those grammatical categories, it does not matter any more whether or not they are called by certain names (at least, if we are not talking about students of linguistics). Surely, for more than nine out of ten learners the actual adequate use of the language is more important than being able to name or quote the categories and rules?
It is not the required theoretical-grammatical insight of learners that should determine how much attention should be paid to practice. Even in situations where it is (deemed) important that the learners acquire some familiarity with grammatical notions, that should not automatically imply that they need to be inundated with hours and hours of pure theory without any practical application. I am trying to avoid the word 'exercises' here, as that traditionally implies drills or isolated sentences that require the 'right' form to be filled in, preferably in books with a key. A key to what, I ask myself: the only thing the key gives is the verb form, or quantifier, or pronoun, or whatever, that someone had in mind at the moment they wrote down the sentence. They had a particular context and meaning in mind, but those are not made explicit. The poor learner who happens to think of a different context, and fills in an acceptable form for that meaning, is confronted with a key that says he has made a mistake. And even when those exercises are made in class, the form suggested in the key may be held up to be the only solution possible.
I have found it wonderfully rewarding and liberating to concentrate, in grammar practice classes, on different contexts that make different forms possible rather than on the forms themselves. I even encourage my students to come up with surrealistic and nonsensical contexts and meanings that make seemingly impossible forms acceptable. They soon get a feeling for this kind of mental gymnastics, join in, and begin to get an insight in the actual meaning of certain grammatical forms. They begin to see the use of grammar, and realise that grammar is not something extra-linguistic they have to struggle to apply to real language, but a device they can use to change meaning, just like choosing a different word. When they are confronted with texts, they can see the way the author is using grammar to convey meaning.
It is exactly when texts, or at least larger chunks of language than simple sentences, are used in grammar practice, that we can see the biggest advantage of this pragmatic approach: it actually allows the teacher to point out differences in style that cause differences in grammatical (and syntactic) forms and constructions. In traditional exercises, it is often virtually impossible to distinguish levels of formality - unless you simply go on the presence or absence of abbreviated forms, which is an unforgivable simplification of an intricate system. In texts or text fragments, however, learners can relatively easily be made aware of obvious and also more subtle differences and the way those show in the grammar used by the author. They will gradually come to realise that grammar is not one straightforward system following a fixed set of rules, but a delicately balanced organisation of slightly different systems. Depending on the level of formality, certain grammatical rules will be relaxed, tightened or even changed completely, just like, in our city - yes, I am afraid I will return to my comparison just once more - traffic rules differ for pedestrians, cyclists, cars and public transport. A particular street may be one-way, but pedestrians are allowed to use it in both directions, and cyclists will mostly do so in spite of the regulations; cars, on the other hand, will almost always obey the no-entry traffic sign, while special exceptions will sometimes be made for public transport. Thus, the situation in that particular street, which was not all that straightforward in the first place (remember the dilapidated buildings and cracked pavements) becomes even more complex.
It is exactly this complexity that makes me turn to a more pragmatic approach in grammar teaching. We should not attempt to delude learners into thinking that English and its grammar are clear-cut and simple, but present them with real language and its very real complexity. Of course this cannot be fully realised at all levels, but even with the lowest learning levels, I would rather forget all about grammar than present the learners with ridiculously oversimplified rules.
In the metaphor, it would also be quite valid to state that there are different routes to get to the same destination, and different traffic rules for different users. Some people will quite literally 'cut corners' when it comes to sticking to traffic rules, and violate rules to get to their destination a bit more quickly. And then there are also the back alleys and dangerous neighbourhoods that 'decent' people stay away from. When you are using real English, no doubt you will come across examples of English that could at least be called 'doubtful' in its adherence to grammar rules. Make sure you do not leave out these examples; they may, at first sight, only confuse the learners, but it makes more sense to introduce them yourself, and be able to provide immediate explanation as to why such usage occurs, and in which circumstances, than to pretend English is all clean and grammatical, and then have your students discover the exceptions themselves, decide that their teacher is rubbish and wrong, and start imitating the wrong examples. Language is a complex matter, and in the circumstances we live in, with everyone having permanent access to all kinds of English, there is no way we can 'shield' the learners. We can only try to give them as much guidance as possible, and part of that guidance will consist of providing information on the shadier neighbourhoods and shabbier back streets and alleys ourselves, before the learners stray into them on their own and get mugged.
Most important of all, regardless of whether you include theoretical grammar in your course or not, whether you use drill sentences or not, whether you view grammar practice in a traditional or alternative way, you shouldn't ever lose sight of the real aim of your (grammar) classes, which should be - in my humble opinion - to create the opportunity for your learners to discover whatever they want from the language you are trying to teach them. For some, it'll be purely practical: to be able to communicate on a basic level, to write an e-mail to an English-language pen pal, or to understand the lyrics of their favourite pop group. For others, it might even be to enjoy the beauty of the language in the form of literature. But whatever their aim may be, you can help them reach it by enabling them to experience the language for real - and that means experiencing real language, rather than isolated sentences from a grammar practice book. In short, rather than showing the learners your own snapshots, TAKE THEM FOR A WALK THROUGH THE CITY.
This article was originally published - in slightly different form - in 'English Teaching', the now discontinued magazine of VVLE, the Flemish association of teachers of English.
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