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Humanising Language Teaching by Angi Malderez
Spring 1989. Sunday evening. I was driving as fast as I dared down an impossibly pot-holed road in N Cyprus. I was on my way to a meeting of our teacher's group, and I was to be the leader for that session. I felt uneasy at having spent the weekend camping on the deserted and beautiful golden beach. The evening before I'd collected driftwood with one son while the other fished, driven along impossible roads to replenish our fresh water supply, built the fire to cook our dinner, and watched the sun set over the sea as we ate and talked , then chased crabs, and lazed. That afternoon, activities had included swimming and walking and collecting carob pods and stones. What I hadn't done was prepare very well (at all) for the meeting. GUILT! But another voice began arguing, 'why should I feel guilty, it was, and still is, the weekend. I enjoyed it, my children enjoyed it, dying words are rarely about wishing you'd spent more time at work and less with your family', and so on. And then it struck me. And this was how my thinking went. ' As there is always, and will always be, more I can do to become a better teacher, I am prone to feeling permanently guilty when I am not consciously and actively doing whatever it is I think I should be doing. Perhaps others feel this way. Maybe we could start by listing all the things we do that are 'for pleasure', and see if or how these contribute to making us better teachers.' That was the conscious beginning of my battle with guilt, which I am still fighting. How?
Why has it taken me so long to see the value in my professional life of all of that activity which I undertake outside the world of work? And why have my lessons about 'play' happened when I have been living and working abroad? Maybe it's the U.K. work ethic. I certainly haven't felt so guilty about 'play' abroad as I do when living and working in this country. Perhaps it's just what life is like here: I heard a conversation recently about annual leave, which seemed like a parody of a stand-up comic's routine. It went something like this: If 'we teach ourselves', in the sense that 'ourselves' is what we teach, as well as the object of our teaching, then we have a responsibility to make of ourselves the most well-rounded and balanced individual we can. Hurrah! A 'professional' reason for feeling guilty about NOT 'playing'! Though I still seem to be losing my battle with guilt, I notice... Angi Malderez |