As composition teachers,
how should we understand and deal with the complex issue of “Standard
English”? How should we understand and deal with the complex issue of
bilingualism? How should we understand deal with the complex issue of
“Non-native speakers”?
In the composition classroom, there is a tension between teaching “standard
English” and honoring and respecting students’ home languages or dialects. On
the one hand, we want to set our students up for success. It is a tough world
out there, and they will be judged by how they speak and write, even if it is
unfair and based on linguistic prejudice. If we don’t do that, we will not be
preparing them for college level coursework, much less professional life after
college. Professors, perhaps more than employers or co-workers, have
expectations about students’ writing abilities and styles; if our students do
not fulfill those expectations, they will not get good grades or be successful.
On the other hand, we don’t want to perpetuate the myth of “standard
English” or of standard ideology. We don’t want to continue the years of
oppression that our students might have felt throughout their years of
education to this point; we don’t want them to resist us or perceive us as
oppressors. We want to help our students be successful, and to be successful,
self confidence and self actualization are important qualities.
I don’t think it’s feasible to avoid teaching “standard English.”
I think the best way to deal with this dilemma is to present the idea of
dialects, discourse communities, audience and context. What is appropriate in
one context (in the parking lot with their friends) is not appropriate in
another context (in the classroom or at a job interview) and vice versa. It’s
important to let them know that no dialect is better than any other, and in
fact in some cases “standard English” or academic English is inappropriate. If
we have to deal with an aggressive person in front of the supermarket, academic
English is not appropriate. If I am lost in an strange urban neighborhood, if I
use academic English to ask directions, I may be seen as a target or victim. It
is not only about vocabulary and sentence structure, but can be about body
language and tone. Similarly, if I use “street” language in a college class, I
might be seen as uneducated, underprepared, lazy or even stupid—by those who
hold such prejudices. By truly showing
students that everyone uses many different registers and discourse styles, we
can avoid the trap of standard ideology. We can avoid telling students, “OK,
your dialect is just as good as ‘standard’ English, but you have to learn ‘standard’
English anyway if you want to succeed.” Instead, we can tell them that by
mastering academic English, they will have another discourse style to add to
their repertoire.
Of course the difficulty of this position is still that students
who speak non-standard dialects might feel that they are selling out or giving
in to an oppressive system. This is a real problem. Let’s face it, education
changes us. We might not fit in with our old group or even our family after
being remade in the image of academia. I’m not sure how to deal with this
problem.
There is another dilemma in the ESL classroom. In the composition
classroom, it is fine to let students use their home or community dialect to
build community and comfort in the classroom. In an ESL classroom, this becomes
more problematic because students would be speaking other languages. For some
students, the only interaction with English might be in the classroom; if their
classmates speak to them in their native language, they might be missing out on
important contact or practice time.
Usually, what I do in this situation is to gently remind English
learners to speak English in the classroom (not during breaks, by the way). I
have noticed two responses to this reminder. Some students appreciate the reminder
and switch into English with no problem (other than the problems related to
speaking in a foreign language); other students shut down and stop talking, and
don’t make eye contact. Alternatively, they might sweetly say, “oh, sorry,” and
continue speaking their native language when the instructor moves away. That is
to say, for some students, speaking English in the classroom is nothing more
than changing languages, but for other students, a reminder to speak English can
be oppressive. I was noticing this happening more with younger students at
first, and thought it might be a generational thing, but then realized that the
students who reacted the most strongly to my requests to speak English were the
ones who went to high school in the US. The older or younger students showed no
sign that an English only rule impinged on their identity. It was the students
who had gone through the system, who had been told implicitly or explicitly
that their language was not good enough. This was a surprise to me at first,
but was able to come to an understanding of what was underlying their
resistance thanks to the theoretical reading we had done in this class and
others.Thi is actually a sad situation, where students resist against English
language oppression in an ESL class, much less my ESL class where I had always hoped students would feel safe to
try new things, to take linguistic, educational and personal risks with new
ways of expressing themselves.
I don’t have a set strategy for this problem yet, though I try to
make sure students know that I value their language. Sometimes some tension is
dissipated when they realize that I am a Spanish learner, and that I am not
putting myself above them or trying to define what is good or bad in terms of
language. Sometimes it is enough for them to know that I am on their side, that
I am there to help them with their language skills and not to judge them. Interestingly,
though, this is often best communicated through actions and attitudes rather
than words.