In The Real World

"In the real world . . ." is a sentence starter you often hear in schools. In fact, I've said it many times myself. We need to stop.

Our students spend the better part of 13 years of their lives in K-12 education. This is their real world. The time our students spend with us is real. The experiences - the joy, the sadness, the learning, the relationships - those are all real. No matter how well-meaning we might be when using that phrase, we trivialize our students' lives when we use it. Their life in school is no less real than adults' lives outside of school. (And, as someone who has devoted their entire adult life to teaching, I've spent the better part of 40 years in K-12 school - it certainly seems pretty real to me.)

The phrase is typically used in one of two ways. It's either used to lecture students on how good they have it in school because, "in the real world," life would be tougher. Or it's used to justify some practice of ours, "you better get used to this because in the real world . . ." Both of these uses may indeed be well-intentioned but, in the end, they're manipulative. We use them because we don't have a good reason (or, at least, aren't willing to think long and deeply enough to articulate a good reason) for what we are doing. It's a crutch we rely on when we don't really want to answer a student's question.

I think we also abrogate our personal responsibility when we use this phrase. If our practices in school are different than practices "in the real world" (outside of school), why is that? Is there a good reason for it, or not? When we choose to be more "lenient" in school (typical use #1), there's hopefully a good reason for that practice. When we choose to operate in school in the same fashion as outside of school (typical use #2), there's hopefully a good reason for that as well. And we conveniently seem to forget who has created the "non-real" world of school: we have. So if the world "in school" is different, either in a positive or negative way, we need to own that.

As I've been writing this I've been thinking about the argument on the other side (which I pretty much do every time I write a blog post). As I've thought about it, I realize that maybe I've got it wrong, because here's a list of things that are true "in the real world."

• In the real world, people don't spend 59 minutes discussing literature, have a bell ring, then spend 59 minutes discussing Algebra, have a bell ring, and then spend 59 minutes thinking about U.S. History.
• In the real world, people don't have to ask permission to go to the bathroom.
• In the real world, people are generally allowed to eat and drink as they work.
• In the real world, if you forget something, you can generally go back and get it.
• In the real world, people generally call each other by their first names.
• In the real world, there are deadlines, but they often are not hard and fast, are often set by the person themselves, and they are not arbitrary.
• In the real world, people are generally encouraged to work with each other; to collaborate, to discuss, to divide up tasks, to rely on each other's strengths.
• In the real world, people are allowed (in fact, encouraged) to make use of whatever resources are available to them, whether that be a calculator, the Internet, books, or other people.
• In the real world, there are often other people evaluating us but, day-to-day, it's our own self-evaluation of how we are doing that's most important.
• In the real world, we often have to do things we don't particularly want to do, but we generally chose to engage in the activity requiring us to do those things.
• In the real world, we usually choose what we read.
• In the real world, there's rarely one right answer . . . and three wrong ones. 
• In the real world, you're rarely assessed using a percentage, and more often using pass/fail. And even when it's pass/fail, you can usually attempt it as many times as you want.

So, maybe those folks on the other side are correct, school really isn't like the real world. And whose fault is that?

Is it an English as a Second Language World?

Thanks to an email from a global real estate broker (Hi Judy!), I read this very interesting article in the Financial Times (free registration may be required). It talks about how the number of folks speaking English is growing (a la Did You Know?), but also how the language itself may be changing because of that. You really should read the entire article, but here are a few excerpts that particularly caught my eye.

About 50 years ago, English had more native speakers than any language except Mandarin. Today both Spanish and Hindi-Urdu have as many native speakers as English does. By the middle of this century, English could fall into fifth place behind Arabic in the numbers who speak it as a first language.

Hmm, what two languages that we typically teach in U.S. high schools are missing from that list? (Note: I think learning another language is as much about learning the history and the culture as it is about learning to communicate in that language, but I think it's still a question worth asking.)

The issue is: whose English will it be? Non-native speakers now outnumber native English-speakers by three to one. As hundreds of millions more learn the language, that imbalance will grow. Mr Graddol says the majority of encounters in English today take place between non-native speakers. Indeed, he adds, many business meetings held in English appear to run more smoothly when there are no native English-speakers present.

Barbara Seidlhofer, professor of English and applied linguistics at the University of Vienna, says relief at the absence of native speakers is common. “When we talk to people (often professionals) about international communication, this observation is made very often indeed. We haven’t conducted a systematic study of this yet, so what I say is anecdotal for the moment, but there seems to be very widespread agreement about it,” she says. She quotes an Austrian banker as saying: “I always find it easier to do business [in English] with partners from Greece or Russia or Denmark. But when the Irish call, it gets complicated and taxing.”

I’m not sure if it strikes anyone else this way, but the phrase “the majority of encounters in English today take place between non-native speakers” really seems significant to me. Especially when you follow it up with “relief at the absence of native speakers is common.” I wonder what implications that has (if any) on how we teach English to native speakers? I also wonder what that will look like over time, as more and more non-native speakers use English to communicate, will native speakers be the ones who have to adapt? Apparently that’s not so far-fetched.

Those who insist on standard English grammar remain in a powerful position. Scientists and academics who want their work published in international journals have to adhere to the grammatical rules followed by the native English-speaking elites.

But spoken English is another matter. Why should non-native speakers bother with what native speakers regard as correct? Their main aim, after all, is to be understood by one another. As Mr Graddol says, in most cases there is no native speaker present.

Prof Seidlhofer says that the English spoken by non-native speakers “is a natural language, and natural languages are difficult to control by ‘legislation’.

. . . When native speakers work in an international organisation, some report their language changing. Mr Crystal has written: “On several occasions, I have encountered English-as-a-first-language politicians, diplomats and civil servants working in Brussels commenting on how they have felt their own English being pulled in the direction of these foreign-language patterns . . . These people are not ‘talking down’ to their colleagues or consciously adopting simpler expressions, for the English of their interlocutors may be as fluent as their own. It is a natural process of accommodation, which in due course could lead to new standardised forms.”

Perhaps written English will eventually make these accommodations too. Today, having an article published in the Harvard Business Review or the British Medical Journal represents a substantial professional accomplishment for a business academic from China or a medical researcher from Thailand. But it is possible to imagine a time when a pan-Asian journal, for example, becomes equally, or more, prestigious and imposes its own “Globish” grammatical standards on writers – its editors changing “the patient feels” to “the patient feel”.

Native English speakers may wince but are an ever-shrinking minority.

I don’t want to get into the immigration debate currently raging in the U.S. (and elsewhere), but this idea of a majority becoming a minority is something I need to think more about, especially in relation to 21st century literacy. Certainly we are already seeing that happen in many areas in the U.S. and, if current trends continue, that will only accelerate, with profound implications for life in the United States.

But I find the idea of native English speakers being a minority in the global community of English speakers fascinating. At what point does the English as a second (or third or . . .) language majority change the very definition of what is acceptable English – and therefore become the de facto “native speaker”? And what does all this mean for education and how we help our student learn to communicate effectively in a flatter, globally interconnected, English as a second language world?

Shift happens.

You Say Potato, I Say Vegetable

Julie Lindsay has an interesting post discussing using common language – including terminology and spelling – in a global collaboration project:

Using language to communicate meaning on a global playing field is a challenge. This has become evident this week while working with the Horizon Project. This project involves 58 students from 5 diverse classrooms as well as many educators from many different parts of the world. It is being conducted with English as the first and only language however we are witnessing national and cultural differences in the way we express ourselves and even how we spell.

She documents several cases of differences in both terminology and spelling between classes in different parts of the world, and wonders about the value of agreeing on a standard. You should read the many thoughtful comments, but I’ll repeat most of my comment here:

I think the students can handle it. I think it's something to talk about with them - definitely a teachable moment - but once they are aware of the issue, I think they'll do just fine. If we encourage them to make sure they communicate with each other any time there is confusion, isn't that a valuable skill in and of itself?

And, of course, unless you are planning on convincing the entire web (at least the English portion of it) to standardize, aren't our 21st century students going to have to learn to deal with it?

To me, both of these points are critical in the 21st century. Our students (and adults) will need to be really good at communicating with folks that not only don’t share the same time zone, but often have other differences – both in terms of language usage and in terms of cultural differences. By helping them learn to communicate better – and to be open and transparent when there is a communication problem – we are preparing them to be successful not only with international collaboration projects, but in their own schools, classrooms and families. Good communication skills will serve them well anywhere and everywhere.

This in turn made me wonder about spelling. I’m a pretty decent speller, most likely because I read a ton when I was a kid. While I haven’t taken any tests or anything, my guess would be that my spelling might be slightly worse now than when I graduated from college. Why? Several reasons, including age and that I don’t get the chance to read as much as I used to. But I think the main reason might be spell-check. Since I write almost exclusively on a computer, I know that it will auto-correct both typos and close misspellings, and that it will flag any words that it can’t autocorrect. That most likely allows me to be a little more “sloppy” when I’m composing my writing, which probably contributes – over the long run – to “losing” some of my spelling skills.

Some folks might say that’s the problem with spell-check, but I guess I would argue the opposite. If I have the ability to communicate effectively by using a tool like spell-check, then is the “skill” of unaided spelling one that I need anymore? If I can “get my ideas down” quickly and easily and use the tools available to me to clean it up and effectively communicate, is that a bad thing? As long as our students have the opportunity to interact with vast amounts of textual information (which gives them a large vocabulary and allows them to spell well enough to both read and compose), and that experience allows them to process, understand, and remix that information, is it as important as it used to be for them to master spelling?

I’m not saying that spelling (and grammar) aren’t important - they definitely are as a means to communication. But maybe we should be broadening our horizons a little bit and thinking about educating our students in the spelling and grammar of a “flatter”, ubiquitously and globally connected, technology-enabled world, not a geographically and technologically isolated one. Maybe it would behove us to analyse our programmes just a little bit and realise that changes are happening in our world - and perhaps we should honour and adapt to those changes.