Rubbish in EFL

My God, HOW remiss of me! I completely forgot to enlighten you all regarding my thrilling experience with Luke ‘the Spook’ Meddings last year. 

For those of you who have no idea (or wish to know) just who Luke is, he is one of those unfortunate social retards (i.e., a Tefler) who claims to have half-invented the Dogme movement, along with his Australian chum, erm, old whatsisname.

Anyway, I went along to one of those crushingly dull and uninspiring seminars offered by the British Council last September, the sort of thing that only saddo Teflers attend - especially those geeky zits who see it as a chance to pad out their CV and crawl up the Tefl promotion ladder. (The suggestion that I was seeking to do the same is vigorously denied, by the way.)

The event was excitingly labelled “Found objects: How Picasso's bull's head can be used in the ELT classroom”, and the idea was that we should take things designed for another purpose and turn them into prompts for learning experiences. Dr Spook was thus entrusted with the weighty task of illuminating us mere Tefl troops in “the need to develop lesson frameworks and teaching strategies which help us to shape this into a learning experience.” Hmm, heavy stuff indeed!

Of course, so enthused was I by Dr Spook’s presentation that the very next day I attempted to put the principles of ‘Found Objects’ into practice. The following example of the process is taken from The Sandy McManus Teaching Diary and Reflective Journal, a serious pedagogical publication that will soon be available for purchase at a very civilised price of £9.99

 12:36  Teacher enters class (late).

T:         "Hello class, let's see what I've got in my pockets, while I desperately take some bits out and try and wing it through a lesson, with trembling hands and a hangover."

St 1:     “Teacher, you smell like dead dog!”

12:37   Teacher fumbles in pockets of trousers and jacket. DoS passes door and coughs loudly.

T:         "Ah yes, here's my docket issued by the Metropolitan Police for a stop and search under Section 44 Terrorism Act. As you can see, they've filled in "Photographing public buildings, acting suspiciously" under "Reason for stop and search."

St 2:     Teacher, you like photo? You see my sister photo – very nice!”

12:38   Teacher passes docket around class. Students’ interest appears to increase.
T:         "Now what's this? (rustle, rustle) Ah, yes, it's a fixed penalty notice for not paying my Tube fare. Oh dear … how embarrassing."

St 1:     “Teacher, why you no pay ticket? You spend all money in pub?”

12:39   Teacher passes notice to students. One student volunteers copy of same.

 T:        "And what's this? Ahem, yes, it's a screwed up copy of a restraining order from my wife, pressed into my hand by a process-server as I left the house this morning."

12:40   Teacher digs into plastic bag and pulls out various papers and photocopied materials. 

T:         "And this … a receipt from Oddbins, the off-licence, for two bottles of vodka. From yesterday..."

St 2:     “Oh teacher, you say me you drink whisky…”

 T:        "Oh, and here's an empty fag packet ... 20 Royals. And an old packet of Rizlas."

St 3:     “Ah, teacher – you like make spliff?”

Anyway, you get the idea. It was, in fact, a cracking lesson, and I discovered that several of my students had equally interesting objects secreted about themselves (half-eaten sandwiches, pots of noodles) and I was happy to complement them on their obvious shoplifting skills.

In short, it was another successful day at the Tefl chalk face. Thanks, Luke!

PS: Actually, my wife has just informed me that the event was cancelled, so I guess the above must have all been a terrible nightmare. Or perhaps it was those hand-picked French mushrooms I bought in Waitrose…

PPS: I forgot to ask: have YOU ever used rubbish in the EFL classroom (to pursue educational aims, I mean)? Please enlighten us with your experiences below...

Sandy's Nutty Tefl Mayday Offering!

Oops - Forgot to post this one! I mean, can you actually believe this shite?! I'll give anybody ten free pints of Old Speckled Hen if they can tell me from which highly-esteemed teachers' journal it emanated.

A new group is about to start a programme where it is important that learners mix with others. Each new member of the group is issued with a lollipop stick.

On one side they write their name. On the other side they write down an interest or something that the others will probably not know about them. All the sticks are then placed in a bag.

To form sub-groups, one member of the whole group is asked to take a stick out of the bag. They read the name and that learner joins them and is given their stick. As they do this, they pick another stick and that person joins them, and so on, until the last person picks the stick for the member of the second sub-group.

Once in their sub-groups, the aim is to match the interests on the sticks to people. When matched correctly, each learner then contributes something about their interest. Each sub-group then builds a model – using all the sticks and other materials – that symbolises their group name.

The completed models form the ‘centrepiece’ for each group’s table for as long as they work together.

I mean, does anybody actually do this bollocks, really?  Would any right-minded being (that probably excludes most Teflers, admittedly) believe the author's claims that this somehow helps to form cohesion in the class body? Or is it just a crackin' way to waste the first few hours of 'teaching'?!

I reckon the poor students would simply think 'Oh, fuck - they've sent us the college retard...'. And that 'centrepiece' would soon get crushed by the class bully, thus symbolising 'knobhead teacher', I'd say.

Actually if I had such a large amount of lolly sticks at my disposal I'd use them to prod dozy students into life before one of my famous pointless 'mingle' activities, which are a frequent feature of teachers who want to dash outside for a quick toke.

Come to think of it, the guy that wrote that pile of lollystick crap above must have been a bit high too. It wasn't YOU, was it?

Taming the bastards with the active voice

There's an article in this month's issue of the EL Gazette that has had me seeing red. I mean, some Tefl twerp called Adam Wilson seems to think he has the right to lecture us Tefl Tradespeople on how to be nice if we want to keep on top of our obnoxious foreign teenagers when trying to teach them a bit of English. Cheek!

For example, look at the following piece of wanky liberal claptrap masquerading as 'classroom management' (or it might be the equally awful and misguided 'student-centred learning'):

"Explain to your students what you are doing - and why"

That's wrong, Adam babes - just plain wrong. No, what you need to tell them is that YOU are the teacher, and they are the fuggin' students, and all they need do is OBEY your orders. There's no point in attempting to explain to them how your carefully-planned activities are fully in accord with Vygotsky's theory of ZPD, as (a) the stupid little bastards will not understand a word, and (b) you've probably screwed it all up or forgotten about poor Lev anyway. And admit it, saying that you're just following what it says in the Teacher's book is probably not going to inspire your evil scrotes one bit, is it?

Poor Adam goes on with his misguided advice by stating that, when faced with intransigent teenagers, "another possible solution is to reward young learners appropriately". I mean, did you notice that pathetic 'young learners' phrase creeping in there? Why not just refer to them as 'snotty-nosed foreign brats', which is exactly what they are?!

And as for the actual prospect of offering the scrotebags rewards as a sort of bribe for behaving well, I say this: they should be bringing in tributes to the teacher, not the other way round. No, mate, you've got it all arse about face, as the balance of power stands tipped firmly in Mr T's favour, innit.

In my experience, a regular thrashing of the worst-behaved students will have the rest of the class fawning over you at the end of the lesson, offering to buy you cups of tea and thrusting chocolate bars in your general direction. This is the way God intended classrooms to be, and I know that for a fact, 'cos a Mormon told me once.

In fact, the only effective tool that the professional Tefler needs to carry everywhere is his voice - the louder, the better. Of course, weapons can be hastily assembled from the usual armoury of board markers, large heavy dictionaries, and sharp pencils, but these should only be employed when the initial blasts of brutal Anglo-Saxon 'Englisc' have failed to tame the mob of dark-skinned inbreds who are your students.

Try walking in to your next lesson screaming "Where is your bloody homework, you slimy little sons of whores?!" and you will notice the difference immediately. And "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" can be surprisingly effective when repeated at great volume, especially at the levels from Beginner to Intermediate.

A Guided Visualisation: the Magic Board Marker

For many of us unfortunate EFL teachers, the humble board-marker is a mere piece of teaching paraphernalia, a tool to be used in the daily struggle to educate those poor foreign morons in the language of freedom, democracy and untramelled binge-drinking.

However, imagine if it was as elusive as that precious TEFL certificate - Diploma even! Surely we would look upon it with different eyes? Surely ... ah, balls - this guy's gone and done it already...

*******

SCRIPT FOR THE TEACHING GUIDE: (To be read in a gentle trance-inducing voice.) Make yourself comfortable and close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths to help you relax. Breathe in the light and breathe out all your tightness. Feel the tension disappear stage by stage from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Let your surroundings fade away as you gradually sink backwards through time and actuality and pass through the gateway of reality into the dreamtime. (When the participants are fully relaxed, begin the next stage.)

Suddenly you find yourself in a different place, somewhere in the countryside, somewhere you remember from a long ago distant time – a time of trust and innocence, far removed from your current everyday concerns. It’s your favourite season of the year and your favourite time of day. A brook leads off into the distance with all kinds of flowers on both banks. Take a minute of clock time, equal to all the time you need, to savour all the sights, sounds and smells of this peaceful place, this place that’s so special for you …..

And now you’re roused from your reveries because you sense you’re no longer alone. You look up from the place where you’ve been resting to see an old man standing in front of you. There’s kindness in his eyes, a smile on his face and he greets you as a friend. Take a minute of clock time, equal to all the time you need, to make the most of this opportunity you’ve been given to meet with this wise old soul …..

"I’ve been expecting you and I knew you’d come. You want your own board-marker, don’t you?" the old man asks.

"Yes, I do!" you reply, without hesitation. Because you know that you’re worthy of this gift and that you will make good use of it.

"Well then, I will give you a board-marker, but remember that you promised to use it only for worthy purposes and not for greed." With this, the old man disappears, and you’re left with the board-marker in your hands. Study it carefully, feel its texture, and note the writing printed on its handle. Treasure it, because its value is immeasurable.

You know it would be all too easy to let the power that you have been given access to go straight to your head. So take a minute of clock time now, equal to all the time you need, to reflect on the uses to which you can put it, for the benefit not only of yourself but also for those near and dear to you …..

Now the time has come for you to return with the magic board-marker - back, back, along the banks of the babbling brook and back to the place you started from. The magic of the board-marker is your own power, the power you have to shape your own destiny – this is the power that has been unveiled to you and that you now hold in your hands. For as long as you believe in this power, its strength will never desert you.

As you retrace your steps along the banks of the brook, once again savour the sights, sounds, and smells of this extra special place, a place you can return to again and again whenever you should feel the need. And as you continue to make your way back, back through the gateway between the two worlds give thanks for the treasure you’ve been blessed with.

Take a deep breath, release it, open your eyes and stretch your arms and legs. Stamp your feet on the ground to make sure you’re really back. Welcome home! Take a few minutes in silence to take some notes of the experiences you had on your journeys, which you can then share with the rest of the group, and make a note of it all in your dream journal.

*******

There's more to follow on this exciting theme soon - and I ain't kidding!!

Great TEFL Inventions

Sandy McManus is extremely proud to introduce a novel departure on The Tefl Tradesman - a critical look at new developments in the field of pedagogical hardware and technology. To those of my critics (apparently there are some) who feel I am an educational luddite, wholly unqualified to pass comment on any classroom contraption beyond a stick of chalk and the ever-present cat-o-nine-tails, I proudly say 'bollocks!'.

No. 1. The Communicative Chair
This comfortable item of classroom furniture has been designed exclusively with the communicative classroom in mind. Those rubber spikes bend and fold when the occupant first sits down, whilst inside them, the carefully concealed steel pins gradually release themselves on a timer mechanism. After ten short minutes, the occupant is forced to get up and do some pointless mingling activity, ask a spectacularly dumb information-gap type of question, or ask their class colleagues how many times they watch TV, eat ice-cream, and fall over drunk.

These essential items can also be used in the staffroom, to stop teachers from falling asleep, and as a means of preventing the homeless ones from adopting the teachers' room as their downtown residence. These seats are indeed extremely versatile, and no serious language school should be without one - or a couple of dozen.

No. 2. The Tefl Taser
This recent addition to the tools employed by the forces of law and order has now been adapted for use in the classroom, and is gradually replacing the electric cattle prod as a means of ensuring total classroom compliance. When students appear reluctant to participate in the teacher's favourite senseless activities and pointless games, a quick high-voltage blast from the Tefl Taser restores the party atmosphere and keeps them in the mood for more mingling! This most versatile of educational tools can also be used, when turned up to maximum, to incinerate students who cheat in tests or do anything that annoys the teacher. The DOS can also think of other interesting ways of using them too, no doubt!

These two modern tools of classroom management can, when used in tandem, provide the students with a rich learning environment. Can your school seriously do without them?

13 ways to impress your students

I've been very glad to see that there are certain teachers on the TES forums who possess the same caring-sharing attitudes towards their students that I do. The brief excerpt below, containing suitable teacherly responses to the usual student complaint that “This is boring… !!” has been ever so slightly adapted to fit the EFL context. But the sentiments are as true as they have ever been.

"This is boring!!"

1. “Yeah, but not as boring as detention…”
2. “Bored are you? Let me check my ‘bovvered drawer’ (search in drawer) ‘nope, that’s empty” 3. “Good!”
4. “Maybe it is, but it needs to be finished by the end of the lesson so that you can go out to break.”
5. “Then make sure you learn it thoroughly… it’ll be even more boring if you have to revise it for a resit”!
6. “I didn’t realise you like me so much. Four lessons a week isn’t enough for you but hey, if you want to make it five during your lunch break, then I guess there’s not a lot I can do about it, except be flattered”
7. “Nope…..YOU are bored. There’s a difference.”
8. “What is that hideous noise? … Oh, it’s you.”
9. “I’m sure you’re trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what.”
10. “What has two thumbs and doesn’t give a crap? (gestures at self with both thumbs and smiles!)
11. "... so is listening to you whine, but you're making me do that."
12. "... not as boring as the job you'll end up with if you don't pass."
13. "Get out of my sight you ignorant little pustule. You have the fascination of the texture of a genital wart yourself, so how dare you suggest that my pronouncements on the glorious English language are not engaging and delivered out of a genuine desire to advance the well of human understanding in the community of global communication!?"

Wanted - Chavs to Learn TEFL

So, I guess the inevitable has finally arrived. Any old dosser can become an EFL teacher now, as apparently the criteria for signing up for an EFL teacher-training course have become, in sympathy with the UK salaries, rock bottom. Well done to the UK's unregulated and unprincipled Tefl Trade for bringing us to this current dystopian state of affairs!

I mean, just have a butcher's at the criteria for entry from the latest advert from that paragon of ethical teacher-training, British Study Centres...

Applicants must:

• be at least 18 (It is generally recommended that candidates should be aged 20 or over, but candidates aged between 18 and 20 can be accepted at the centre’s discretion.)


• have an awareness of language and a competence in both written and spoken English, which will enable them to undertake the course and prepare for teaching a range of levels


• have the potential to develop the necessary skills to become effective teachers and to complete successfully the written assignments and the assessment of practice teaching.

So, not only do you not need a degree or higher education diploma of any kind, you don't even need an A-level or two. In fact, there's not a single mention of any academic or school-based qualification at all! Hats off to BSC for really scraping the bottom of the educational barrel here!

And just what do those rather guilty-looking phrases "an awareness of language" and "the potential to develop" really mean? More to the point, what are they trying to hide?

Presumably the first expression refers to the ability to differentiate between a noun and a verb, or is that a shade too demanding of the average 19-year-old scrotebag? Maybe if they can write "r u l8?" in standard English, they can make it on to the course, eh?!

Of course, the old cliche "potential to develop" can be skewed and screwed around to mean anyhing you really like, so it's quite meaningless here. How do they measure this 'potential'? Is it a visible entity, or does it come in the shape of the ability to pay the course fees?

Anyway, I've contacted the two charlatans responsible for press-ganging youngsters onto this course, but I'm still none the wiser yet. I wonder if they have any academic creds to speak of? Perhaps they'll be in touch after the weekend, the poor shameful souls.

Or maybe you'd be interested in having a chat with them? If so, you can contact the craven bastards as per below.

Good luck!!

BRITISH STUDY CENTRES SCHOOL OF ENGLISH

CELTA in Oxford: Steve Haysham, Head of Teacher Training, British Study Centres School of English, Oxenford House, 13-15 Magdalen Street, Oxford OX1 3AE. Tel: +44 (0) 1865 246620 oxford.tt@british-study.com

Trinity in Brighton: Anna Bate, Teacher Trainer, British Study Centres School of English, Fairfax House, 47 Cromwell Road, Brighton & Hove, BN3 3ER. Tel: +44 (0) 1273 731352 brighton.tt@british-study.com

UPDATE: BSC have some of the crappiest summer jobs I've seen in a very long time! Look here for some REAL STINKERS - from as little as 190 quid a week!!

Eddie Yates' Second Career

Things are extremely busy here at the Sandy McManus ranch, and for a whole range of rip-roaring reasons - 50th birthday preparations, getting the cat neutered, preparing the first draft of my Tefl novel - so I make no apologies for recycling one of my favourite postings from about five years ago. For those unfortunate youngsters out there who have no idea who the inimitable Eddie Yates ever was, I refer you to google - and the picture alongside.

*******

I had a bit of an 'incident' with one of the other teachers a few days back. Well, more like a couple of weeks ago, actually, but I've been brooding on it, I suppose. Anyway, it goes a bit like this.

I was asked to cover an afternoon class for a fellow Tefler who had to visit the dentist, and seeing as it would mean a few extra quid in the kitty, I was happy to oblige. A few minutes before the class is due to start, my 'colleague' thrusts a tatty old copy of Hardway Intermediate into my hands, telling me to start unit so-and-so on page whatever. When I ask him for the register, he claims he's lost it.

So, I trundle up to the classroom, start getting to know the students, and we get going. It's a very nice class, quite small and rather chatty, mostly Latin types, including a handful of rather attractive South American girls. We spend a fair deal of time just talking at first, then move on to the prescribed unit, kicking off with a bit of vocabulary to pre-teach, before a reading exercise.

Then I do my usual trick of asking the students to write half a dozen questions about the text. This usually shows that the students still have problems forming the correct structures for making questions in English - either no auxiliary verb, it's in the wrong place, or they put one in when it's not needed.

Cutting a rather long and none-too-exciting story short here, we spend a good deal of time on this, as the students clearly need further instruction and practice on it, and we obviously fail to cover all the work requested by my partner-in-crime. So, having assured myself that they understand at least the concept of the present perfect simple tense (not too difficult for speakers of Latin languages, I feel) I ask them to look at the relevant grammar section at the back of the book, and see if they can get their heads round that grammatical colossus, the present perfect continuous tense. Nothing too heavy, just sort of 'take a look and see what you think'. Then it's the end of class, and we all part on good terms. Money for old rope, really.

Next day, my partner is not a happy chappie. He storms into the staff room after lunch, waving his half-finished rollie cigarette around and accusing me of having deliberately scuppered his finely-tuned lesson plan. "How can they cope alone with the present perfect continuous" he bellows "when they're only Intermediate level?"

Sitting behind a table (actually, it's the only table in our putrid squat-like staffroom), I gaze up at him, and take him in. Dressed like a dustman, with a grubby green t-shirt, baggy black trousers and a tatty flak-jacket on, he looked just like a middle-aged glue-sniffer. It was at this moment that I automatically dubbed him 'Eddie Yates'.

For those of you who don't know, Eddie Yates was a character in Coronation Street back in the 1970s, maybe 1980s too, back when the programme contained a good deal of subtle and sympathetic humour, rather than the current obsession with spite. Eddie worked as a binman, and was a lodger with Stan Ogden, the local window cleaner, and his long-suffering wife Hilda. Together, the three of them made up some of the most humorous working class zeros you could imagine.

Eddie, of course, was as idle as shit and dressed like a tramp; Stan was little better, and boasted a beer-gut the size of a small town. His wife Hilda became a well-loved legend, with her curlers, headscarf, and fag clinging to the corner of her mouth, not to mention that irritating, nagging, Lancashire accent.

So, Eddie it had to be. Not for the humour, mind, but for the attire and the idleness. Of course, I realised that the source of his ire was that he'd hoped I would teach his charges all about the present perfect continuous, thus relieving him of the onerous task. But I hadn't (you see, I focused on the students' needs - teach the students, not the materials, kidder!), and he'd wandered into the class, probably still half under the influence of the dentist's anaesthetic, and found himself in deepest do-do territory.

"It's called discovery learning" I shouted at him as he scuttled out of the staff room, in preparation for another rollie outside at the staff cancer table. Ten minutes later he wandered back in. "It's OK now" he gasped, "I've calmed down". As if that made everything all right.

There then followed a brief discussion, in which I tried to outline some of the principles, as best I could recall, of the idea of 'discovery learning'. Lovingly referred to in some quarters as 'fuck-off-and-find-out', it does actually have some pedagogical pedigree about it.

But Eddie was having none of it. His ignorance was obviously greater then my illumination. "But they're only Intermediates" he kept chuffing, like a steam train stuck on a loop line.

You see, that's what I really love about this job - working with such enlightened and professional people. Dress like a slob, speak like a slob, and think like one too.

Eddie Yates, welcome to your second career!

TEFL Mythodology #3 - The Sexical Approach

The Sexical Approach is popularly believed to be a cunning method for both teaching foreign languages and seducing students, and was developed by an unemployed EFL teacher called Michael Lewdis in the 1990s. This technique has enjoyed great popularity in EFL schools all over the world, and was thought to have been responsible for the large increase in sexually-transmitted diseases that swamped Europe in the later years of the decade.

The basic concept on which this approach rests is the idea that EFL teachers enjoy shagging more than teaching, so if the latter can be exploited as a route to the former, all will be well in the classroom. Therefore, in the Sexical Approach, instruction focuses on carefully chosen fixed expressions that occur frequently in dialogues, and which Lewdis claims often result in a legover. The teaching of chunks and set phrases are therefore cunningly skewed to be able to reflect a sexual agenda, and then become common in the student's English, resulting in frequent sexual encounters for EFL teachers, both male and female.

In his review of the approach, Dieter Kranz wrote "The Sexical Approach can be summarized in a few words: bunk-ups and blow-jobs. The language consists not merely of traditional grammar and vocabulary, but often of multi-word prefabricated chunks that can be employed in a wide range of sexual situations." For example, the simple question 'Where is your toilet?' can be given a sexual purpose, especially if the speaker wishes to 'clean up' after a steamy session on the couch. Equally, the word 'toilet' can be replaced with 'bedroom' or 'condom', and a whole range of legover opportunities arise for the fortunate EFL teacher.

Sandy's Alternative Guide to EFL Conference Protocol

Go on - admit it. You went, didn't you. And it was twice as dreadful as they told you it would be - wasn't it! Well, you've only got yourself to blame, intcha, eh? Next time, pay attention to Sandy, right...?

So what in Judge Dread's name am I waffling about this time? Well, that Tefl conference that took place recently in Harrogate - yes, fuggin' Harrogate, of all places! I mean, if I could think of a place that conjures up visions of premature death through chronic boredom, it just has to be Harrogate. I bet even the old biddies snort crack up there, the place is so dull.

Anyway, just so that you don't get caught out again next year, here's Sandy's Alternative Guide to Tefl Conferences. Even if you do get the short straw next time, following this advice will entail your being remembered as a true Tefl hero and odd-ball for a good while - or at least until the next conference, anyway. More importantly, I can guarantee that you'll NEVER be sent to attend an EFL conference again, unless your employer wants his humble language school to suffer the same sort of very public shaming and professional humiliation twice.

First and foremost is the dress code. Never EVER attend in a suit or even dressed in smart-casual mode, as this will announce to all the Tefl world that you are but another saddo who couldn't get a job in management at Tesco's and chose the tacky Tefl path instead. And anoraks don't really belong to the 21st century, do they, so that option's out too. Fancy dress, as in the piccy above, could be an option, but you might be thought of as a mere eccentric, rather then the weirdo that you truly are.

No, you need to think 'MAXIMUM IMPACT', which typically involves having large amounts of nose-rings on show, cheesy henna tattooes on your arms, and plenty of spotty flesh on display. Nipple piercings are an option, but best left for the post conference bash at the pub, when you do your Lisa Minelli impressions on the pool table. Of course, the sort of attire that accompanies these shenanigans is the loose-fitting beach variety, so stock up on flip-flops and speedo shorts, with one of those luminous singlets with the number 69 on it in broad type. There, you look like a true Tefl conference hero now!

But clothes alone do not the Tefler make, so it's important to adopt the required behavioural patterns of the determined conference clone - right?! I mean, you want to be absolutely sure of making the desired impression, so make sure that you always sit right at the very front of every session that you attend. Smile inanely like some old duffer on medication, wink knowingly at the presenter, just to make her/him feel extra nervous, and scratch your nether regions frequently.

Then, in order to cause maximum discomfort and annoyance to each speaker, laugh at the wrong moments, especially the most inappropriate ones. If you feel your attention slipping, start playing with the ring-tones on your phone, at full volume of course, and then stand up and apologise profusely and loudly to everybody present. Sit down with a loud fart, and then stand up and apologise again. Then sit down again slowly and start fishing in your bag for a sandwich or a sausage roll - which you naturally offer to your neighbour first. Pick out your toe-jam with a tooth-pick, and flick the stick at the presenter, just to show your appreciation.

Interrupting and asking stupid questions will make it very clear that you haven't understood a single word of the presenter's codswallop, and will annoy your fellow Teflers immensely. Feel the ripples of discomfort pulsate with agonising predictability as you butt in with "But didn't Krashen write Headway?" or "Yeah, that Vygotsky guy - didn't he give a presentation here last year?".

Another important thing to bear in mind is that food is often supplied free at some stage of the conference, so make sure you bring enough doggy-bags with you. Even if the grub is not free of charge, just lurch up to unsuspecting diners and shout "Are you gonna eat that last little sausage?" while waving your grubby little doggy bag at them. You'll be surprised at the responses you get, I can assure you.

When you get back to your school and go through the tiresome rigmarole of a 'cascade session' with your colleagues - the lucky ones who didn't get forced to go - create a presentation to remember. Show them your colourful and carefully correlated pie-charts full of simplified regression analysis relating to the number of 'erm' and 'um' utterances you heard. They'll be truly impressed - especially your boss.

I kid you not - you'll NEVER get asked (or told) to attend another Tefl conference in your life. And that just HAS to be good news, eh!?

The Rods of Destiny

Look, I know I've been keeping very quiet about this for several years now, but I feel the time is ripe for an outing - and I don't mean a day-trip to Margate. You see, it happened quite by chance, after I dropped a few of them on the floor when I was working at the London School of English many years back, and since then I've been hooked on it. I mean, I made a prediction at the time, and it came true!

So what am I on ... about? Why, the rods, of course, the rods! I've been predicting the future with the aid of my trusty cuisenaire rods for a good ten years now, and I have to 'fess up that I'm a convinced (but perhaps not convincing) Cuisenairomancer. And that's nothing to do with shagging in the kitchen, by the way.

In fact, although the noble art of Cuisenairomancy is not recognised by the NHS (or anybody else), I firmly believe that every teacher who has a few of these magic rods in his/her box of tricks possesses the ability to divine the future. Let me give you an example or two, and see if you're with me or not, eh?

Firstly, it's important to use just seven long rods, and take them out of the bag one by one, as you softly intone a Nepalese mantra. The pale colours should emerge first - yellow, light green - leading up to the darker ones, such as dark red, blue, and black. Place them gently and randomly on the desk in front of you, then stand up and turn round twice.

Are all the rods in the same place? They should be! Have you fallen over? If so, you're probably pissed or still hung over, and the whole exercise will be futile. Go back to bed and try again tomorrow.

Now, take all of the rods in your left hand and throw them gently into the air. Remember to stop singing the mantra and keep your mouth closed as you do this, otherwise the consequences could be fatal. As the rods lie resting on the floor, recite the names of Liverpool's greatest goalscorers. Close your eyes and inhale deeply for one minute exactly.

Now, the position the rods have assumed upon landing on the floor is the most important thing in the art of Cuisenairomancy, so pay careful attention to the following details. Get this wrong and you might be assigning yourself a place in hell, or end up committing yourself to a British Council contract in North Korea for two years.

Closely study the patterns that the rods have made on the floor. Two dark rods pointing away from you mean that you will have to work hard for anything useful in your life - but as an EFL teacher you probably know that already. If you can decipher the shape of the number four made by any of the rods, that means trouble at the workplace - so you might want to go and pick a fight with the DoS, just to gain the advantage of surprise.

However, the most important sign is an unbroken circle or square (OK, perhaps even a triangle). If the rods make such a shape or pattern on the floor, you can make a prediction - which will definitely come true! This is what happened to me that fateful day at the LSE back in 1999, and I correctly predicted that I would get the sack by the end of the week. Amazing!

To date I have also predicted England beating Germany 5-1 away, the winners of the past three Grand Nationals, and Alex Case getting married. Of course, there have been a few 'near-misses', too, notably my prediction that I would be chosen to represent the Science Fiction Loony Party in the last UK elections. Unfortunately, I was arrested for thieving a couple of Robert Rankin books instead, and was doing a small spot of porridge at the time the rest of the nation were choosing their political masters. But the odd bum prediction should be seen as casting no shadow over the entire science of Cuisenairomancy, I believe.

Of course, it takes a good while to understand every secret message behind the manifold permutations of the seven magic rods, but have no fear; my book "Cuisenairomancy for Teflers" will be appearing soon, and the discerning EFL teacher can add these rare and exotic skills to his/her ever-expanding range of off-the-wall teaching techniques and quirky classroom tricks.

As for my forthcoming predictions, let me see ... Yes, Scott Thornbury will marry Pete Sharma, and Brighton and Hove Albion will avoid relegation. There will also be a severe earthquake in Harrogate during next month's IATEFL conference, and every Tefl guru you can name will be swept out to sea in the ensuing tsunami.

Don't believe me? Just come back here in a year's time, and we'll see who's got it right or not, mate!

PS: If you don't have any rods at hand, frozen chipolatas might just do the trick instead.

Flatulence in the Classroom

Have your classroom performances ever been 'wind-assisted'? Do you often make appropriate usage of the flatulence factor, weaving an inspired and informative performance around the acrid aromas of your toxic anal emissions?

If so, I just might have found a new approach to teaching EFL that is right up your, erm ... 'street', I suppose. It's an article called 'Off the Beaten Path', and it's one of those loony attempts to justify doing bonkers things in the classroom, all in the name of 'radical methodology' ... I suppose.

The article has been published, of course, by that veritable refuge of charlatan theatricals in EFL teaching, Humanistic Language Teaching. And let's be honest here folks - where would all we Teflers be without our regular dose of the whacky HLT mag? Where indeed would we ALL be without that veritable army of Mario Rinvoloonies, who are ready, at the drop of several screwed up pieces of paper masquerading as a ball, to indulge in some of the most absurd pedagogical posturing imaginable, all in the name of turning a fast buck - oops, I mean, turning our heads, of course!

The article's a real cracker in modern methodology and its application in ... erm, teaching something or other. For starters, it recommends the application of PO as a way of "challenging ideas or stirring up new ones". PO means, by the way, Provocative Operation - a bit like this blog, I suppose; and the founder of PO, Edward de Bonkers, might well have been inspired to create his dear PO after a session gazing at these very pages of Sandy McManus. Maybe.

In fact, surely this is no coincidence here? I mean, I often shout PO - as in 'Piss Off' - when I hear ideas like this: "ask the entire class to remember new words by tattooing them all over their bodies".

Yes, that was PO1, which de Bonkers describes as "using a bad idea as a springboard for good ones." I'm sure I don't need remind you that De Bonkers is standing squarely on Tefl terra firma here, as the whole game is notorious for its bad ideas in the first place!

I mean, not only is the entire PO approach pure madness, it's the sort of madness that attracts a certain type of Tefl twerp by the busload. For example, there's also 'PO2', which involves juxtaposing two unrelated ideas, such as this: "the phrase 'TV cabbage' should conjure up some inventive combinations, such as a TV made of edible cabbage leaves, or a cabbage channel".

Yes, dear - very good idea! But I have to ask here - what the fuck's it got to do with teaching English? What possible benefit could it ever bring to my class of fat businessmen or rowdy teenagers, eh? Well, ask Hall Houston, the unfortunate author of this article extolling the hidden virtues of the PO approach in the Tefl classroom. Bacause I have NO idea at all.

And we should not forget PO3, either - challenging an idea, or just fart of it. Oops, did I mention the dreaded F-word there? Of course, the 'sense' (dare I use that descriptor?) behind this one lies in being able to do make it do anything you want - anything at all, I guess. So, instead of suggesting something like"Let's start every class with a dictation", we can challenge an element of it, and say "Let's start the classes with a farting competition" instead! Brilliant!!

Which sort of brings me rather neatly back to the beginning. So when your DoS raises an eyebrow at your inventive use of the proverbial buttock ballon in the classroom, you can just tell her - PO!!

EFL Teachers 'lack violence training'

"Nearly half of new EFL teachers do not feel properly equipped to deal out violence in the classroom". I was not at all surprised to read that sad admission in the online Guardian today. For much too long the benefits of 'The Violent Way' have remained hidden, crushed under the weight of the dead hand of political correctness.

Indeed, according to figures released by the British Council, as many as two-thirds of newly qualified EFL teachers have received no clear guidance on attacking students, and many felt that they had not had enough training to dish out appropriately challenging behaviour to students who perform badly in class.

Sandy McManus is therefore happy to reveal that techniques involving 'passive physical contact', such as blocking a pupil's path by offering a fist, and 'active contact' such as leading a pupil by squeezing the hand or arm, are soon to be incorporated into the EFL Teacher Training Council's new methodology curriculum. Other more advanced techniques, such as 'appropriate restrictive holds and neck-presses', will also be incorporated into the new 'Violent Way' syllabus.
IATEFL has also backed the proportionate use of force. A spokesperson said "We know that we live in the real world, we know that sometimes teachers will be faced with difficult situations, and will need to utilise violent teaching methods - especially when bringing old copies of Headache Intermediate into the classroom. But it's all for the students' good, after all."

Another source has stated that the official guidance is unclear, and EFL teachers are sometimes puzzled, or just too stoned in class, to understand things properly. Sharon Slapper, from the EFL teachers' union CUNT (Confederation of Underqualified Nobhead Teflers) said "These violent confrontations can erupt very quickly, especially when a Tefler finds out he's got to teach Beginner level for the third time in a year. So the teachers need to be clear about what sort of steps they can take to successfully manage an escalating situation, if they have to physically attack a student or other member of staff, and how in fact they can do that in the most economical and successful way possible - without getting another black mark on their existing police record."

Shadow education secretary Michael Gove said that if the Conservatives were elected, they would change the law to give EFL teachers more arms. "The government backs the use of violence that is proportionate, and will legislate to enable teachers to undertake weight-training and small-arms practise - by force, if necessary" he added.

He went on to state that the nation's Teflers should "feel empowered to use whatever force they consider to be appropriate in order to pull apart pupils who are complaining" and fully supported teachers learning to acquit themselves well by attending martial arts programmes and shooting ranges.

Sir Tony Millns, a fat blob of a spokesman from English UK, also underlined the need to increase professional standards in dealing with difficult customer behaviour by 'justified force', such as throttling students, thrashing them for bad pronunciation, and immersing them in water. "Standards of teacher violence have improved, and are good in the majority of EFL schools" he said, in between gulps of Theakston's Old Peculier, "and we are determined to tackle poor teacher behaviour and raise their overall standards of violence - that is why we are giving EFL schools clearer and stronger powers than ever before to ensure good discipline, and in order to avoid prosecution. Now, whose round is it...?"

Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/education/8501202.stm

A Lathophobe Writes...

... very well, in fact. What I really mean is that there's a blogger out there with a virtually unpronouncable name, and he writes a blog with an equally obscure and opaque monicker. It's something to do with sodomy, I reckon, judging by the number of pictures of scantily-clad young men on the site, but I could be wrong. Anyway, check the blog out here, if you would be so kind.

Well, he's written an extremely interesting and humourous post about the perils of Tefling in Greece and the rigours of teacher training there, both of which had me nodding my head in quiet agreement and almost peeing my pants with mirth (instead of the usual substance you normally pee your pants with). However, the story of Sotiris - "a lugubrious individual with a droning voice" - and his painful attempts to pass himself off as a competent teacher made me want to stand up and shout at the screen, something like "you can not be fuggin' serious, you mad fuggin' Greek!"

Even better, I was reminded of my own attempts to inflict an unwelcome teacher-(re)training programme on some unfortunate ladies in Central Asia many years ago. After a short while it became quite clear that (a) some of these elderly 'teachers' had a lot of trouble expressing their most basic thoughts in English, and (b) they had signed up more out of curiosity (a real Englishman!), and the belief that they might be able to match me up with one of their daughters. In the end, we just sat around drinking tea and chatting.

Actually, none of the above is really true - I just couldn't be bothered to write anything of my own today, so I though I'd nick his stuff instead. Ha! However, here are a couple of the same geezer's efforts to throw a little light into the dark pantheon that is teacher-training in the home of dodgy democracy and crunchy kebabs.

http://giaklamata.blogspot.com/2009/10/memoirs-of-teacher-trainer-ii.html

Where's the second one gone? I can't find it! What a fuggin' shambles I am today...

Sandy's TEFL Tips...

There are literally dozens of good blogs out there offering a wide range of useful tips for the devoted Tefler. Unfortunately, this blog isn't one of them. All the advice I can offer has been sieved through the bitter experience of utter classroom failure, and then discharged through a veritable gusher of untamable caustic sarcasm. As a result, I would like to present, for your greater edification ... Sandy's TEFL Tips!

You should always remember that you, dear EFL teacher, are a dedicated and deranged professional, and as such you will be expected to remember a large amount of pointless crap while you are in the classroom. So, here are a few of Sandy's really useful and unique ideas to help you make the most of your teaching...

Dos

● Act like a teacher. Acting is important, otherwise the students will realise you're a total prat, an alcoholic, or just plain mad. So, learn to act like a professional - you might just pull it off!

● Make your classes interesting - even if you aren't. By preparing a wide variety of activities and games, your students won't cotton on to the fact that you are as dull as ditchwater, and, more importantly, know absolutely nothing about English grammar and syntax at all!

● Be consistent with the rules. It's very bad form to play favourites, so just make sure you treat all of your students equally badly. Give them the contempt they deserve!

● Plan your lessons ahead of time - and recycle them endlessly. Winging it doesn’t always work, especially with an enormous hangover, so you should have exactly what you need at hand, before you enter the classroom.

● Make sure the topic is appropriate. Both men and women are keen on sex, so talk about it endlessly. But remember - some issues that are acceptable at home could be taboo abroad, so start telling them their culture is primitive and backwards, and enjoy rubbing their noses in it.

● Speak clearly and loudly. Even better, shout, stamp your feet, and throw things at them if they don't give you their constant attention.

● Tell the students why you want them to do something - even if you have no idea why. They probably won't understand you anyway, but they'll think you really know your stuff.

● Expect the unexpected. Maybe you planned an activity for ten students and only five showed up? Always have a back-up plan - like adjourning to the pub, or having a joint-rolling contest. See who can balance a tumbler full of vodka on their nose for the longest!

● Keep an open mind. Some countries have laid-back ideas about timing, so you can roll in 15 minutes late and nobody makes a fuss. Students may show up even later, so use their appearance to crack jokes about where they might've been. Nobody will understand your attempts at humour, and the whole class will think you're a real card.

● Ask your students for feedback - then forget it. Most times they will be honest and tell you if they liked or didn’t like the activities you planned. Take their feedback forms with you when you visit the toilet, and make sure they see you doing so - and returning empty-handed.

● Respect their suggestions for things that you can do as a class. Then just tell them that YOU are the boss, with that expensive Tefl certificate on the wall, and they really shouldn't poke their nose into matters of pedagogical procedure. But nicely...

● Adapt your teaching style. Some students like to think things over and have everything perfect before speaking - so quietly ignore them. Others want to shout out the answer as soon as they know it - so tell them to shut up. After all, you ARE the boss!

● Bring realia into the classroom. Porno pictures from magazines, explicit photos of former boy/girlfriends, empty bottles of vodka - these are real objects that can make lessons come alive.

Don’ts

● Wear your weekend clothes to class. The students don't want to know that you're a transvestite or into lycra-bondage. Piercings and tattoos should be covered up, especially the ones on your buttocks, stomach, breasts and nipples, etc.

● Dumb students down - they're probably dumb enough already. Just because one can’t answer a question, it doesn’t mean he doesn't know - he might just be too thick to understand. So ask a different question, or see if someone else can help the student - then laugh at him.

● Embarrass your students ... too often. Ritual humiliation soon becomes demotivating, so just keep it for that special occasion.

For an alternative version of the above advice, you could try the following link...

http://www.eltworld.net/times/2009/06/general-tips-for-teaching-english/#

The Stan Cruddy Story (part 2) - The Beat Goes On!

Train throws wind through tunnel
Platform of people sighs
Oh shit! Where's my fuggin' ticket?

(from 'Northern Lines', 1966)

Thus we begin the second part of the thrilling story of Stan Cruddy, Tefl's most uncelebrated and unacknowledged teacher and methodologist, with one of his very first 'haiku poems', written during his students days at the Stockwell Higher Institute of Technology and Education (SHITE) in the mid-to-late 1960s.

Indeed, Stan's first contribution to the teaching profession was his haiku poetry, which he taught to some of his very first students. In this artform, although it is almost impossible to single out any particular style or format or subject matter as being definitively Stan's, he attempted to replace the traditional 'contrast and compare' approach of haiku, in which two natural events, images, or situations are juxtaposed, with a more urban and contemporary range of subject matter, including certain more 'modernist' topics such as fare-bunking, illicit sex, and overt affiliation to narcotic substances.

The sharp rain of the morning's cold shower
grates like a sizzling kebab on my parched skin
Oh, I should never have shagged that little Paki tart last night!

To return to Stan's EFL career, after leaving the services of the local unemployment exchange, he chose to work as a volunteer ESL teacher in the burgeoning Indian communities of the Tooting Broadway of the era, rather than waste his time and money in the pubs of his native Tooting Bec. Although the attractions of an almost permanent supply of free curry and cheap beer must have been strong, Stan soon became aware that the booze was keeping him from the long term effort needed to become a respected EFL teacher and, more importantly, to produce a successful EFL course book.

Contemporary reports state that Stan was usually in bed by early evening, having been drinking since his first morning class had finished at 9:30 a.m. Given these rather extreme personal circumstances, it is amazing he managed to turn up for classes at all – sometimes as early as 8:00 a.m. – and legend has it he often taught in a drunken stupor for days on end, later retiring to The Trinity Road Tandoori to give poetry recitals to the restaurant’s regulars on Friday and Saturday nights. Newspaper interviews then followed, as well as a column in The Bedford Hill Informer, plus the occasional spot of television work, appearing in adverts for hangover pills and a wide range of stomach-settling concoctions.

It was on just one such occasion that Stan Cruddy give his first and only interview to a professional journal, proclaiming himself to be a little-known methodologist, inventor of ‘The Silent Way’, post-modern haiku poet, and irrepressible joint-roller and drunkard. My colleagues at the EL Gazette have revealed the following:

"The interview had to be carefully planned, as in order to get Stan to talk coherently for more than ten minutes, he had to be kept away from the bottle. It was therefore scheduled to take place at the ELG offices early on a Saturday morning, so that he could get back home to Tooting Broadway before the pubs opened. However, the wily Cruddy managed to escape the journalist’s vigilance by disappearing to the toilet. When he was finally hauled out, some twenty minutes later, he was as drunk as a lord. He had concealed a small bottle of whisky in his jacket, and had managed to down the lot while the journalist was making a few phone calls.

Yet somehow the interview went ahead, with the ever-more voluble Stan demanding more drink as he rambled on – with the result that on the only surviving recording of his voice, we hear a man slurring his well-chosen words, obviously very drunk. Although the interview was praised by the ELG editor as 'an early classic of an EFL misfit staking out the future of teaching methodology', it was unprintable in the Britain of the early 1970s, and hardly represents a fitting tribute to its subject."

However, by the late 1960s, Cruddy had somehow managed to put together two ground-breaking course books, "English Up My Arse" (1968) and "The Balham Bus-depot Archives" (1969). A draft for a third course book, "Mind the Gap: English for the Northern Line", was unfortunately lost on a bus to Brixton in 1970, and from this tragic moment on Stan moved to Spain and devoted his life to perambulating private language schools and perfecting the techniques of The Silent Way. Although both his course books have their bright moments, neither are as well regarded as his earlier attempts at perfecting the urban haiku for E2L students.

These, then, were the conditions in which the humble Stan Cruddy began to develop his famous (some say infamous) Silent Way method of teaching English. The rest, as they say, is history: first, the unfortunate story of Stan trading his unique Silent Way techniques with Caleb Gattegno a year later, in exchange for a fortnight-long orgy with a band of Bangkok lady-boys; and second, his untimely demise in a fire in a Chinese brothel (pictured alongside) in 1990.

However, the path marked out by Cruddy is still being followed today, with works such as "English Upside Down" and "Blowjob English: A textbook for the sex trade" owing much to Stan’s spirited complexities and his unique approach to teaching the language. Of course, whether they’ve captured Cruddy’s lightness, his hidden humour, or his equally well-concealed charm, is another matter entirely.

In retrospect, it is hardly surprising that a habitual drunkard with bad breath and no teaching qualifications slid into obscurity after disappearing into the ill-considered language schools of Europe and the Far East; his ill-timed death attracted no attention at all at the time. And yet … perhaps if just one of his many publishers had accepted his later masterwork of the mid-1970s, "One part pissed, two parts stoned", or if Cruddy had had the self-confidence (and remained sober enough for long enough) to try and eventually succeed in placing it elsewhere, the course of EFL methodology might well have been very different.

Stan Cruddy - A Postmodernist When It Was Neither Profitable Nor Popular

Well, today I am more than happy to be able to reveal to all my readers(s) that the story of Stan Cruddy, the true inventor of the Silent Way approach to language teaching, is not finished at all - no way. If you're a little in the dark as to the enormity of this proto Tefl guru, you can preview the story of Stan (pictured alongside when he was at the peak of his powers) and his unacknowledged contribution to EFL right here.

After an unexpectedly informative 'session' with a journalist from the EL Gazette, in which he generously revealed dark secrets from the journal's archives, I can now disclose the following details of Stan Cruddy's unexpected rise to fame, and his unfortunate demise at the hands of a Chinese 'party girl' in 1990.

Part 1: the early years

Stan Cruddy was born, raised, and half-educated in the rough Toxteth area of Liverpool in the years immediately after the end of World War Two. His mother was a young Irish emigrant, Maureen O'Flagherty, and his father was rumoured to be a Pakistani pastry cook from The Star of India, Huskisson Street. However, his father fled to London almost as soon as Stan was born, and he was raised by one of his maternal aunts, as at the time is was considered a mortal sin to bear a child out of wedlock. His early years are shrouded in mystery, as few written records exist of his later adoption and schooling, although a study of Merseyside police records reveals a high incidence of the name 'Stan Cruddy' in relation to crimes of petty theft, hooliganism, and teenage drunkenness.

What is known for sure is that Stan left school at the tender age of 16, and immediately went to London, intent on finding his father and discovering his exotic Oriental roots. After several months of trawling the streets of south-west London, Stan eventually located the paternal connection he had been craving for so many years. His father had opened a kebab shop in Tooting Broadway, and it was there that Stan learned the basic skills of the fast food business, while living with his father above the shop, at the same time learning Urdu and almost marrying one or two of his father's cousins.

After two years of dedicating his life to unravelling the secrets of his father's life, short-changing the customers, and preparing a shish kofte stuffed with bread crumbs, Stan enrolled as a student at the Tooting Institute of Technology and Science (TITS). After somehow passing a foundation course in pharmaceutical studies, he jumped ship - some say he was pushed - and obtained a scholarship (although only God knows how) to study at the Stockwell Higher Institute of Technology and Education (SHITE).

Here he worked and drank hard for three long years, graduating with a 3rd Class BA in Modern Welsh Poetry, despite knowing not a single word of the language and only realizing halfway through his second year that he was actually on the wrong course. In fact, he had initially intended to enrol as a Chemical Engineering student, but found the queue too long and ended up in the Faculty of Arts & Humanities, which was closer to the college bar. This clearly illustrates how the factor of chance, be it ill or promising, was to be a key recurring factor in Stan’s career as a teacher, poet, and EFL methodologist.

It was during his student years that he discovered his gift for rhetoric and public debate, and he was well-known for never backing down in an argument, despite occasionally falling over and forgetting which argument he was involved in. Moreover, his clear talent for writing prose and poetry emerged quickly, as he frequently contributed to the student publication 'Northern Lines', and later edited the short-lived 'Bedford Hillbilly', most of which he wrote himself, as he was rumoured to have 'adapted' most of the submissions that found their way to his desk. Upon graduating he joined the local employment exchange - the only place that would offer him a job - working steadily and apparently putting his teaching and literary career on hold for two years.

The Stockwell Higher Institute of Stan Cruddy’s day, the mid-to-late 1960s, was a maelstrom of progressive thinking and avant garde art. Some of its most daring students, such as the celebrity gardener Phil Buckett and the fashion designer Quentin Queen, had stepped outside the narrow soporific confines of south west London, and even travelled on the Northern Line across the Thames River. Their effect on Stan, however, was not to be fully realised until his later years, when Stan blossomed as a Tefl poet, course-book writer, and methodologist of international fame.

Stan Cruddy, indeed, had never even ventured into the neighbouring borough of Wandsworth at the time, and the nascent Tooting Popular Front, which Stan had apparently joined after a lock-in at the Tooting Tavern, was beginning to exercise a tight grip on its members. Travel beyond the frontiers of the borough was seen as betrayal to the cause of urban proletarian solidarity. Moreover, the TPF had begun to attempt to impose censorship on some of Stan’s first attempts at writing, leading to accusations of 'revisionism' and indulging in 'bourgeoise affiliations' through the writing of poetry.

This inevitably led to the absurd spectacle of Stan first writing a poem, and then voting to ban it himself at a later party meeting. Stan, however, justified this by arguing that no poet worth his salt would write a book that wasn’t banned, and Cruddy seems to have actively tried to provoke the banning of his first anthology of poems 'The Hard-On' by naming one of the poems 'Comrade Cunt'.

Soon afterwards, Stan managed to wangle a way out of his civil service position at the unemployment centre on the grounds of ill health, which enabled him to claim a small pension and avoid work altogether. He also severed his links with the TPF by claiming that he, as a citizen of Liverpool and the son of a mixed racial 'conjunction', could no longer abide by the TPF's parochial, revisionist and 'anti-international' stance. So, after another lengthy lock-in at the Tooting Tavern, Stan emerged a free man, of sorts, and was to go on to produce his remarkable 'Tefl Haiku' poetry, and the 'Silent Way' approach to teaching, as well as his series of visionary EFL course books.

Coming next...

Part 2: the later years - fame, fortune, and fellatio

Negative Outcome Oriented Schemas and How to Avoid Them.

Fuck me - again?! I can't now remember just how many times I have been given the bum's rush from Dave's ESL Cafe. I think the last time was early last year, when I was dished out a dose of 'summary justice' for the alleged crime of posting the content of a PM - that's 'private message' to the uninitiated. The fact that the content I posted was written by myself was apparently irrelevant to the case. No appeals are allowed on Dave's.

So when I got a PM a few weeks back telling me off for daring to raise the question of just why one of my apparently innocent postings had been deleted by ''the mods' (the moderators), I responded in the most appropriate fashion. I told 'the mod' to "Piss off". And I called him a "dickhead". Well, that upset him, I guess, as I got the message you can see in the graphic - "You have been banned from this forum".

Not that it upsets me at all. In fact, this whole issue of getting the metaphorical bullet from one of Dave Sperling's little mods is just a cunning ruse to lead you to the real meat of this blog posting, namely that there is an excellent piece of ripping satire available there on the UAE forum, which you should find here. And it wasn't me wot wrote it - no mate, not at all, I'm afraid!

Just scroll down to the entry by scrog_420, and you'll see a priceless parody of vacuous educational newspeak, concerning the buzzwords of the day to parrot at a job interview. I almost peed myself with laughter when I read it, and I sincerely hope that you'll do the same. And just as a teaser, here's a couple of examples...

6. To succeed at HCT, you must embrace, you must love, you must worship technology. Remember, there is no such thing as too much educational technology. Remember that nothing counts if you cannot put an “e-” in front of it. Speak frequently, therefore, of “e-action plans” and “e-metacognitive paradigms”. Even better, speak of your “e-action plan to create e-student-centered e-metacognitive paradigms”.

7. Try to use as much educational jargon as possible. If you work a bit into an interview or discussion, those listening will be impressed because they will assume you know what it means and won’t dare reveal that they don’t by asking what it means. You should speak frequently of the need to...

• generate collaborative objectives
• aggregate outcome-based paradigms
• enable inquiry-centered schemas
• cultivate technology-enhanced interfaces
• exploit integrated technologies

The saddest thing is - it's absolutely true!

Sandy's Guide to TEFL Mythodology - #2: The Silent Way

It's often been stated that 'The Silent Way' originated in the early 1970s and was the brainchild of the late Caleb Gattegno (see pic alongside). However, the little-known truth is that the method was actually invented some years before by a severely hungover EFL teacher in Spain called Stan Cruddy. This blog-entry is therefore a rather belated attempt to put the record straight, and to restore Stan to the position he so richly deserves in the esteemed annals of the proud history of Tefl methodology.

'Needs must', as they say, and never was this more true on that fateful day in December 1971 when Stan, finding himself incapacitated in class one morning due to an unexpectedly high intake of alcohol and illicit combustible substances the night before, was unable to communicate with his normally chatty class of belligerent young school-children. Being an articulate and resourceful EFL teacher, Stan's solution to this problem was simple and immediate - to teach the class using a system of mime and gestures that he had been prototyping on similar occasions of momentary lapses of faculty co-ordination.

Thus was born 'The Silent Way', a crafty teaching technique that he later passed on to Gattegno in exchange for a fortnight's holiday in Thailand with a wide assortment of lady-boys. Although Gattegno revised and refined Stan's original ground-breaking contribution to pedagogical practice, the main tenets of the approach remain broadly similar, and can be summarised as follows.

Firstly, the main premise is that learning is facilitated if the learner discovers rather than remembers or repeats. This 'discovery-learning' approach actually favours the time-pressed EFL teacher, as in many cases he does not even have to know that he's supposed to be teaching. Moreover, if the teacher attempts to model certain vocabulary items and phrases too often, the class might well realise that he is incapable of normal speech, which would have catastrophic consequences for both the teacher and his bank balance.

Of course, the use of the word "silent" is very significant here, as The Silent Way is based on the premise that the teacher should be as silent as possible in the classroom in order to encourage the learner to produce as much language as possible. This of course saves the teacher from having to breathe a mouth full of whisky fumes over his students, and also means that he can economise on toothpaste - a very tangible benefit these days, given the dogshit wages on offer at many private EFL schools. He can also laugh at their pathetic attempts to produce the English language.

Referring back to the presentation of language, in the Silent Way the structural patterns of the target language are presented by the teacher and the grammar "rules" of the language are learnt inductively by the learners. Stan was extremely perceptive here in realising that future EFL teachers would have virtually no knowledge of the grammar system of their own language, and would therefore have to relinquish the reins of power and oblige the learners to sort things out for themselves.

Stan was also one of the first teachers to stumble on the idea of using Cuisenaire rods - small coloured blocks of varying sizes originally intended for the teaching of mathematics - in the EFL classroom. This discovery came about almost by accident, as Stan found the rods in a colleague's drawer one day and figured they could come in very useful for throwing at rowdy students.

Some time later, when he had sobered up, he realised their potential for being used in the classroom to illustrate meaning. This is perhaps best shown by an example. Let us say that the teacher has introduced the idea of pronouns as in "Give me a green rod". The class will then use this structure until it is clearly assimilated, using, in addition, all the other colours. One member of the class would now like to ask another to pass a rod to a third student but she does not know the word "her", only that it cannot be "me". At this point the teacher would intervene and supply the new item: "Give her the green rod" and the learners will continue until the next new item is needed (probably "him").

Quite why a learner would want to say 'give me the green rod' has never been fully explained, and unfortunately both Gattegno and Stan are now dead, the latter having perished in a fire at a Chinese brothel in 1990, so we shall never understand the apparent wisdom behind the technique. However, Stan was well known for making frequent cryptic references to his 'rod', and the picture alongside - the last surviving one of Stan taken at a teachers' conference in 1989, as he demonstrated his revolutionary "butt-naked" method of teaching EFL - appears to bear out his insistence on using his 'rod' as a teaching tool.

Although the minimalist role of the 'Silent Way' teacher has led some critics to describe its teachers as 'aloof', Stan wrote of a real need for the EFL teacher to just "give them some some vocab, then get out of the way". In fact, Stan was very keen on getting out of the way, often for weeks at a time, as his DoS sought him out amongst the bars and 'cantinas' of downtown Barcelona.

As with other methods and approaches, however, aspects of Silent Way can now be observed in many lessons in the modern classroom. In the 1980s and early 90s, for example, it became fashionable in some quarters to argue that excessive "teacher talking time" was something to be discouraged. As Stan often had severe problems in being understood by his students, and not merely because of his strong regional accent, he alone felt the urgency to put minimal TTT at the forefront of his unique teaching methodology.

Lastly, the problem-solving feature of Silent Way may well prove to be its most enduring legacy as it has led indirectly to the idea of Task-based Learning, to the widespread use of problem-solving activities in language classrooms, and to teachers just leaving their students to get on with the process of learning while they nip outside for a quick ciggy or two. In short, we carefree teachers in the Tefl Trade owe one hell of a lot to Stan Cruddy and his Licor 43-inspired technique.

Only today has that debt of gratitude been made fully apparent. Stan Cruddy - we salute you!

TEFL.net - a True Repository of Useless Advice?

I came across this wonderful little item on the pages of TEFL.net the other day, and I immediately felt that it was suitable for a spot of close attention from Sandy McManus. Who could resist a gentle bit of leg-pulling when a novice Tefler asks a bright question such as “Can you give me some tips for teaching unruly teenagers?”? I certainly can’t...

Q: Dear Lucy: I've been brought in to teach 17 teenagers from the eastern bloc. [Oh, you lucky bastard!] The last teacher quit because of stress and in some ways I can see why [Ooh, aren’t you the sharp one, eh?!]. I am a newly qualified CELTA teacher, and today was my first day teaching a real class. [Congratulations! Welcome to The Club of Queer Trades!] I didn't have any lesson plan prepared as the appointment was very short notice [Now that IS a surprise!]. So I kind of just led a conversation class with them [Join the club, indeed – it’s called ‘winging it’!]. By the end of our three-hour slot, I still had 17 students in the classroom, i.e no-one had left, and I didn't feel distraught. [Stop trying to kid us, babes.] So that's a result I suppose. [An extremely good one, I reckon – nobody got shot, stabbed or crucified, and you’re still breathing too.]

The group all know each other and have a pretty good grasp of English. [Oh, that’s good too - you won’t have to teach them much, then.] Upper Intermediate - I'd say. How do I get them to not talk over each other and actually pay attention? [Try humiliation, degradation, and psychological torture – the CIA manual’s a great help for this.] They shout, speak in their own language, mobile phones go off, etc. [You don’t say? I find all that quite unexpected...] This is despite me setting rules at the beginning forbidding all this. [Fascist teacher!] I guess this is about classroom management. [Well done – you ARE a bright spark, aren’t you!] Is it just wishful thinking to believe that if I go in with a structured lesson plan tomorrow, I'll have less trouble? [Ah, wishful thinking, cosy pipe-dreams ... how would we Teflers exist without them?]

Yours, Simpler

A: Dear Simpler: I can totally sympathise with you. [While I’m laughing satanically.] Teaching teenagers is not easy, even for experienced teachers, and it is all the more difficult when they are unruly. [I bet you hadn’t thought of that, had you?] It's unfortunate that you didn't have time to plan the first lesson and I think it's a good idea to plan your next lesson with the students. [Oh yes, a lesson plan is ALWAYS a good idea – especially if you’re a TEFL greenhorn.] They might see structure in the lesson and you will feel more in control of what is happening in the classroom. [Or somebody might just be taking the piss here.] If you feel in control, you will be better able to handle the situation. [Amazing! I’d really never thought of that before...!] You were right to set rules at the beginning... [But unfortunately, the rules were all ignored, and not strict enough anyway...] ...

And so it continues. Well done Lucy Bollard (pictured alongside) for that truly fine repository of useless advice, don’t you think? To think it’s called a ‘Help Desk’ is dangerously misleading, I reckon, and a case should be brought against the author for wilfully leading poor young Teflers up the proverbial garden path. In fact, it’s much more of a ‘Helpless Desk’, and poor old Lucy, whoever she might be, should be stripped of her Tefl certificate and sent back to stacking shelves at Sainsbury’s.

Anyway, here’s your chance to get some real advice – so take a tip or two from Sandy. I reckon that if you adopt and adapt the following shimmering slithers of wisdom, you’ll be sure to emerge victorious from every lesson, every time.

Right now, the first piece of meaningful advice should be, of course, DON’T teach teenagers at all! Unless, you really, really have to; in which case, it’s essential that you show them who’s boss from the moment they walk in the door. This usually involves a good number of pre- and post-lesson activities, as well as constant attention during the in-class encounter.

So, for starters it’s essential to make sure that you’re actually in the classroom before the teenagers arrive, so that you can frisk them for phones, knives, guns, etc., as they enter. Any offensive weapons found should be dumped with great ceremony in the bucket full of water that you have cleverly prepared in advance and placed conspicuously in a visible corner of the room. This really sets the tone for the lesson – you will submit to my will! – and shows them who the real boss is.

What’s important here is that you don’t believe any of this lefty crap about the classroom being a democratic place, or a place for the fertile exchange of ideas between two equals. No, it’s a battle ground, and a chance for the efficient EFL teacher to display his or her skills at inflicting immense suffering on a fellow human being in a foreign language – a skill which is highly under-rated, in my opinion.

As for maneouvres during the lesson, the main point is to remember that your students are your skivvies, so get them to do all the grubby little jobs that make your teaching life so miserable. For example, order Pavel to clean the whiteboard - and if he refuses, pull him out of his seat by his hair and lead him (gently, though) to the board. Invite your little darlings to clean your shoes during the break, on a rota-basis; and remind them to bring you sweetmeats from home, if they want a good grade at the end of the year. It's such small and simple stuff, really, but it works.

Likewise, don’t forget to reward those who speak out of turn with a one-minute session licking the windows clean – from the outside. And if a mobile phone goes off, pick it up and shoot a good round of Anglo-Saxon abuse into it. Remember, all this intelligible input will be doing wonders for their language abilities, if you believe Krashen – or even if you don’t!

For those dimwits who venture to give an answer to one of your exceedingly difficult questions, you have two options. For an incorrect answer, scowl visibly for a moment and then burst into hysterical laughter. For a correct reply, mumble something like “smart-arsed little creep” under your breath. Your darling students will soon come to appreciate this predictable behaviour of yours, and it will help them to come to terms with the top-down nature of your classroom management style.

Finally, just because the class is over, don’t let them think they are free of your caring attention. For those students who fail to complete the reams of homework that you’ll set them, threaten to tie them to their chair and suspend them from a third floor window. You’ll be quite surprised at the response you get, believe me!

First Published: Tuesday, 22 January 2008

Comments
'A visitor' left this comment on 27 Jan 08

Yeah. Get to the classroom early and scent mark the room. Much easier for male Teflers, but you have a CELTA, you're smart, figure something out iof if you are a squatter, not a stander-upper. Remember, you are the Alpha beast. Kick the weaker ones out of the pride--if you can't dismiss them from class, maul then eat their offsprings, thin the herd. Works for me.