output

Bob Patrick’s awesome student-generated story idea

Ok ppl this frikkin’ ROCKS! Bob Patrick, who majorly rocks the T.P.R.S. party–in Latin, no less– came up with a cool idea as story warm-up which he calls “one word at a time stories” and Ben Slavic, that relentless acronymist, called O.W.AaT.S. Here it is:

1) make cards with 10-15 words in TL and English that will be in next story.

2) put kids in groups of 3

3) give kids 2-3 new words. They have to start writing a story using the 3 new words. The teacher circulates. When a group gets 1 sentence done– on scrap paper– teacher checks it (opportunities for pop-ups!)

4) when the sentence is good, it gets put on larger, poster-sized paper. The kids then write a second sentence. Same procedure followed.

5) when they have used their 3 words, they trade words with another group and keep going. They have to include 1 dialogue and they can’t use any notes/dictionary/new words except the ones on flashcards.

6) teacher has a sentence limit– e.g. 15 sentences total– then at end of class teacher can type them up for reading the next day.

So I told my colleague Leanda Monro (level 3 French via pure T.P.R.S.) and she gave Bob’s idea its own spin. Check it:

A) she wants to kids to acquire “Jingle Bells”– “Vive le Vent“– in French (well, a bunch of the vocab in it, anyway).

B) she’d asked a Christmas-themed story about a boy lost in the pine woods in winter, searching for his belovéd (she falls into the lake, and is rescued by a crew of Good Smaritan dogs, who feed her hot chocolate). While le petit garçon is wandering around looking for his girlfriend, he runs into a collection of random people while babbling poetry.

C) Leanda cut up 13 new words. They looked like this:

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D) the kids were put into groups of 3 and their assignment: write a poem– what le garçon is babbling to himself in the woods as he wanders– using the new words. Each group got 2-3 words to start.

E) When a group got a sentence done, Leanda would correct, they would copy onto bigger paper, and they would move on.

F) the finished poems became the basis for PictureTalk (a.k.a. Ben Slavic’s Look and Discuss) and the kids were hooked– their own work. Here are two examples:

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G) Here’s the kicker: when Leanda played them “Vive le Vent,” and asked them comp questions, she estimated the class was around 90/90 (9 of 10 kids got 9 or 10 of 10 questions). The activity was a really good vocab front-loading tool.

I like this: kids can own it (their stories), it’s not crappy output, it shelters vocab, it will become good input…nice work.

Leanda Monro btw is nothing short of a pedagogical genius. She teaches– wait for it– Humanities (English and Socials mixed), PowerFit (brutal, hardcore physical training mixing aerobic work with freeweights plus lessons on anatomy, diet, etc), Level 3 French (via T.P.R.S.) and Social Justice 12. Oh and she’s won bodybuilding championships a few times, is a personal trainer, and at 5’2″ and I am guessing 110 lb soaking wet could probably pick up a 300-lb dude and throw him 20 feet while smiling and reciting French poetry in a really nice accent. Ya, Leanda rocks.

Input – output = acquisition!

I did a workshop yesterday at Simon Fraser University and one of the standard questions came up:

    Can people learn to speak a language without “practising” speaking it?

The answer, as forty years of research and 100,000 years of evolution show, is “yes,” but sometimes stories speak louder than data. So, today, two cool stories about acquisition without output.

First, here’s a great blog entry by Trisha Moller about language acquisition. She writes:

“Recently one of my administrators shared a story with me that illustrates what using comprehensible input and repetition can do.

My administrator was teaching English in Africa to small children before he became a Social Studies teacher here in the States. He taught very young children and used fairy tales to help them to acquire the language. For months he was reading and illustrating these stories. He read The Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks, etc. He saw no indication that they were really understanding and they produced little language.

One day, one of the little boys was misbehaving and he was asked to stand outside the door for a moment as a consequence. It was hot outside and this lad did not want to be there. After the door closed he began to bang at the door and the teacher heard the following: “If you don’t open this door I’ll huff and puff and blow the house down!” My administrator was floored as that was the first English he had heard. It was spot-on for usage and the child showed that he knew just how to use it. It gets better though. Just after this, another young girl came up to the teacher and tapped him on the arm shaking her head no and said “this house is made of bricks.”

So, if you still think that TPRS/CI is not working, do not lose heart. It will take hold. Your students [if they are getting compelling comprehensible input] will acquire whatever language you are trying to teach them.”

The second story concerns my climbing partner Teresa. She’s Brazilian, raised in Brazil. Her Mom is Brazilian and her Dad is Mexican. When they were kids, Teresa and her brother heard Portuguese from Mom (and the rest of Brazil) and Spanish from Dad. Dad spoke Spanish to Mom, and Mom spoke Portuguese to Dad. They understood each other but never formally learned each others’ languages.

When Teresa was 8, her parents split up, and her mother married an American. Her stepfather spoke functional Spanish (to Teresa’s Mom). Her Mom, however, decided that the kids should learn some English, and so it was decided that stepdad would only speak English to the kids. So Teresa and her brother heard English, Spanish from their Dad on weekends, and Portuguese, but spoke only Portuguese. She and her brother also had a steady diet of American movies (variously subtitled into Spanish and Portuguese) and Spanish movies (also subtitled, mostly into English). She and her brother often also turned on the captions for English films as they found it easier to read English dialogue than to understand it in spoken form. They watched classic Disney films and Pixar movies over and over.

During childhood and adolescence, she had loads of input in two foreign languages, but no output: “both my Dads understood Portuguese even though they didn’t speak it much, so I heard a lot of English and Spanish but I never spoke it.”

When she got to high school, Teresa was put into advanced English and Spanish classes. She decided to go to Canada at aged 19 to University. She told me “when I arrived I could understand everything no problem. Speaking was really hard though. But one day about a month after I arrived, I was asked a question in class, and without thinking I answered in English. And after that speaking was no problem.”

Teresa got a job as a Youtube channel manager for Latin America and now uses lots of Spanish in her work. She speaks English (and Spanish) with an accent…but also with basically perfect grammar.

So…

— comprehensible input– and interesting repetition thereof– works
— talking is the result of acquisition, and not the cause. These kids learned without having to produce.
— later-acquirers will have accents…but having an accent does not matter
— no formal grammar instruction is necessary to acquire a language
— there were no expectations placed on Teresa and her brother to speak, write, etc– they just listened and watched
— they were never made self-conscious by way of correction of grammar or accent, or by being forced to speak

Cool, huh?

Is Output Useful in the 2nd Language Classroom?

I’ve been arguing with Sarah Cottrell, Kari R. and others about the role of output in a FL classroom.  TPRS is primarily an input-based methodology:  students learn via hearing (and reading) comprehensible input.  So…should students in a TPRS class talk?  And, if so, when?

You can read Krashen’s views here.

My first answer is, talking is not useful– at all– when we start with beginners.  Most people don’t like talking at first, because they quite logically feel self-conscious because they know their accent is “wrong” or “off,” and because they know that they sound like a two-year-old.  There’s lots of research that suggests that talking in TL tops the list of “things I don’t like” in FL classrooms.

If Krashen is right about the affective filter– that people need to be happy and comfy (he says “open to input”) to learn a FL– then talking (for beginners) is totally the wrong strategy.

Output (from most learners) is often flawed, which means, bad input.  Ask any Spanish teacher what happens when you first teach “gustar” (“to be pleasing” or “to like”).  When you ask “te gusta ver la tele?”  the kids answer with “Si, te gusta ver la tele.” (Do you like watching TV? Yes, you like watching TV).  This is a classic beginner mistake.  Now, we understand (and so does the kid doing the listening)…but what they need to hear– “Si, me gusta…”– they don’t.  Why would we encourage poor modeling?

Bill VanPatten (2003) argues that language acquisition happens only when a learner is processing input. “Output,” he writes, “is not a substitute for input, which must come from other speakers.”

We might say, “poor modeling, fine, the kids will pick it up eventually.”  Sure…but that’s a waste of time; why dither?  If we can provide quality input via stories and reading, acquisition is much faster.

Another problem with output exercises– the “communication gap” activities that communicative teachers use, where kids are supposed to use (and thereby acquire) the TL to acquire information they want– is that they’re boring, and they can be bypassed via L1 use.

If you are teaching “to like,” and you tell the kids “OK, look at the list of things in your book on P. ___, and ask your partner what they like,” a lot of them will just point and say “do you like ___?” in English rather than saying “Aimes-tu les chats?”  Even if they do use TL, they’ll only do it once or twice, cos, let’s face it, this is a boring activity.  Which slows the acquisition even more.  Why would you use the target language if you don’t have to?  And everyone knows it feels fake using a non-native language with other learners.Plus, this turns the teacher into a police officer dutifully patrolling the class for TL, hounding the bad English away.  Fair enough…but don’t we have better things to do?

So if early output = bad modeling and slow acquisition, is there ever a place for output?  And we are talking output other than yes/no and one-word answers, or scripted story dialogue.  I think there is…but under some conditions.

a) Output must be perfect.  If a kid says it in class, and there’s any errors at all, it has to be immediately re-cast by teacher into perfection, and then circled.

b) Output must only come when students want to do it.  It must emerge organically.  Forced output is not language– it is drama, recitation, what VanPatten calls “language-like behaviour,” but it’s not language.  Language is what you say and understand without having to think.

With beginners, this is fairly easy: we allow only super-simple perfect output from the willing initially.  With my last batch of beginners, the first sentence they learned was Rochelle juega futbol con David Beckham en Los Angeles.  I circled that (and a parallel sentence: Breleigh baila en Cork con Seamus Ennis.).

I then wrote “juego = I play” on board and asked Rochelle “Juegas futbol con David Beckham?” and she was able to answer by reading off board– I pointed to “juego” and then “futbol con David Beckham.”  I then did a pop-up: “what do the “a” and “o” on “jueg-” mean?”  Note that I could do this because it was obvious from the first minute that Rochelle was an outgoing kid who was eager to talk (as were her friends Jasmin and Rasna, and a boy named Fahim…but they were the only ones).  Breleigh however wanted nothing to do with talking– she was OK answering questions chorally and in English– but she did not want to say anything in Spanish.  Fair enough.  After a few weeks, she started to want to answer in Spanish.

So I set it up so that the only thing they could say was meaningful to them, and perfect– they simply had to read off the board.  If they wanted vocab specific to them, I wrote it on board w/ translation.

Sarah Cotrell said to me on Twitter “My students don’t want to have language; they want to use language.”  Great…but how does quality input come from learners?  Your 4th year kids probably won’t make errors with “te gusta?” which they learned in first year…but they’ll inevitably make interlanguage etc errors with the subjunctive or whatever they have recently started seeing.

I would do some or all of the following with upper-level kids

a) limited discussion (with teacher recasts) about texts or images

b) assignments where students have to interact with native speakers and document the results (e.g. go find a Spanish speaker, and interview them, and record questions and answers with your phone or camera).

c) encourage kids to go and do stuff with the language outside of class.

Some teachers say “don’t kids in TPRS classes get bored just listening?” and I respond with “not if what they are listening to [and reading] is interesting.”  We personalise stories, we do simple Q&A about kid interests, we weave kids into stories, and we do readings about teen characters with real problems that kids care about, and we use our sense of humour above all.  We use stories because they are the most universal and oldest and most compelling form of packaging communication, period.  We always want to find out what happens in a story!

Merrill Swain often comes up here.  Swain essentially says two things: that output is important in acquisition because it “provokes” comprehensible input, and that output can make speakers aware of errors and problems, and in their desire to “fix” these problems they will acquire some language.  There are a few problems with Swain’s ideas.

Say I am in France and I am hungry, and I walk into a boulangerie.  If I stammer and point to a loaf of breadand say “Je veux acheter un…un…un…”, the boulangeur is probably going to say “baguette.”  A classic communication-gap scenario.  And I used metaliguistic strategies:  I pointed, I said “uhh” (or “eu”) over and over, etc.

Great.  I provoked output from him that became comprehensible input for me.  But there’s two problems.

a)  how am I going to remember “une baguette”?  Evidence suggests that I am going to need to hear (or read) it 20-50 times to get it hammered into my long-term memory, and more to be able to spit it out without thinking.  How are communication gaps going to do that?  This might work in an immersion environment– if the situation comes up every day, I’ll eventually pick up baguette— but we don’t have that kind of time in class.

b)  when I get input from the baker, I am getting perfect native-speaker French.   This is not what happens in a classroom, even one full of motivated, experienced and attentive students.   No matter how good the activities etc, students are still getting impoverished, error-filled input from other learners.

Swain isn’t wrong…but her theory, properly speaking, addresses learning conditions, not actual acquisition.  If I want to acquire “baguette,” I need to hear it and read it over and over– and be focused on it– otherwise my encounter with Monsieur Boulangeur will be a one-off that will find me scratching my head next time I want bread.

The second part of Swain’s theory– that output will increase the speaker’s self-awareness of problems in their grammar, vocab and pronunciation, etc, and that this will lead to acquisition– is also problematic.

Let’s say I am in India and I want some water in a restaurant.  I ask my server kanna he? and get a puzzled response.  He nods and brings me the menu.   But I don’t want a menu– I want water.  I must have screwed up.  But how did I screw up?  Did I get the word for “water” wrong?  Is my pronunciation off?  Did the guy not hear me?  Does he not speak Hindi?  (Perhaps he is a Malayalam or Bengali speaker).  As it turns out, I have the word for “water” wrong– it’s not kanna but rather panni.

First, it’s not clear what the problem is.  I know there’s a problem…but what is it?  As an adult language learner, with developed metacognitive skills, I can figure it out: wrong word.  Could a 15 year old?  A tourist with little interest in Hindi?  What if the problem is more complex, like I get a verb tense wrong, or I forget to add a crucial postposition.  Concrete nouns are easy to figure out– point and ask with raised eyebrows– how about complex grammar?

Second, even if I figure out that I got the word wrong– and I managed to ‘rescue’ the conversation by pointing to a water fountain or bottle– I will probably, as in the  boulangeur example above, probably get one mention of the word panni and that’s it.  This might work in an immersion environment, but in a classroom this is not a viable strategy.

This, to me, is the essence of the problem of language teaching: how do we provide  comprehensible input that is compelling enough that it can be repetitive enough that students can acquire it?  Of everything I’ve seen and tried– natural approach, T.P.R.S., Grammar Grind, communicative-experiential, audiolingual, “eclectic”– T.P.R.S. is the best solution to the problem, outside of an immersion environment, because it allows us to provide masses of comprehensible input that is personalised and interesting (via the personal and/or weird details, and because we use stories).