Why are so many EFL Textbooks so bland, boring, and culturally tone-deaf? Allow me to ask a more polite question.
How can English teachers working abroad and international English textbook publishers both respect local cultures and create more engaging English classroom lessons? The challenge may be more complicated than you might suspect.
A long, informative, and detailed exchange on a TESOL list serve recently focused on the peculiar sensitivities of Saudi Arabian students. An experienced American English teacher reported that his Saudi students expressed anger over a paragraph in their writing book. The imported American English language textbook, which has collected considerable critical praise, contained a paragraph celebrating friendships across many countries and religions – including an unpopular democratic rival nation of the Saudi kingdom. Working in a closed, theocratic society where women are banned from driving evidently raises many delicate problems for English teachers, and many EFL and ESL materials must be carefully edited. Obviously, discussing politics, religion, sexuality, and gender issues is clearly culturally inappropriate and often legally forbidden in this rigid Islamic kingdom.
Without passing judgment for the moment on the Saudi students’ perceptions and religious passions, let’s zoom out a bit. This awkward incident illuminates the need to explicitly tailoring English as Foreign Language (EFL) content to reflect different national cultures. It also identifies a core defect in the many EFL publishers and why so many EFL and ESL textbooks are bland, boring, and heavily censored. Who wants to offend many potential customers and clients by just mentioning a small country’s name?
As I heard explained at two fascinating TESOL workshops for EFL material writers at the 2011 conference in New Orleans, the current practice for EFL publishers is to simply collect all the possible objections, adopt the “red lines” of all countries, and uniformly impose these taboos around the world. The default advice for EFL material writers includes prohibiting not only politics, alcohol religion, sex, and nudity (predictable), but also mention of luck, negative emotions, Israel, gender roles, and pork.
Here are some memorable examples. One EFL materials writer detailed how he had to drop a chapter on bad luck because it implied that God wasn’t in control of events and might encourage superstitious thinking. Another writer told TESOL participants about having to drop a health chapter which included a “no smoking sign” because it implied that smoking was a choice. Another presenter felt proud that he was able to list “negative emotions” such as “bored”, “tired”, “unhappy” when outnumbered by positive adjectives by a 3-1 margin in a chapter on feelings.
Evidently, many educational bureaucrats evidently place creating a “harmonious society” and teaching conformity above actual language acquisition or student expression. Shock, shock. The ban on mentioning Israel comes from – as demonstrated in the Saudi Arabia classroom that sparked this informative discussion among TESOL professionals – the fashionable desire to see a democratic, successful nation abolished among many Arabs. Many British publishers have also found many Arab countries, including several former colonies and a few royal kingdoms the British Empire helped create after WWI, to be important, lucrative EFL markets. The predictable result: pandering to local prejudice and the systematic omission of positive references to Israel.
Naturally, printing world maps that ignore the existence of a small country is also an explicitly political decision so the “avoid politics” advice is a tad dishonest here. Further, as the son of a Holocaust survivor, I find the strange belief that every group deserves a nation except Jews pure bigotry and fashionable group hatred. Yet, for worse or for better, this quasi-official ban seems to be widely adopted by many British EFL publishers. (American textbook publishers, perhaps inspired by a federal law that prohibits honoring the Arab boycott of Israel, don’t appear to follow this particular practice.)
Yet rather than focusing on the passionate politics of the Mideast, let’s remember that the largest clients often dictate content in many fields. And governments and their education ministries remain, by far, the largest clients for international educational publishers. In fact, educational ministries– especially in closed, dictatorial societies where teaching critical thinking is more than discouraged, censorship taken for granted, and English often viewed with some lingering suspicion as an old imperial tongue – hold exceptional power to approve or veto EFL textbooks. Focusing on pleasing these clients, many American and British publishers have chosen to adopt all the “red lines” of various cultures. Unfortunately, this current practice ends up imposing the safest, narrowest paradigm on all their international clients – across the globe. The Saudi standard becomes the standard for French, Brazilian, Japanese, and Korean English language learners too.
After all, efficiency matters in publishing too. From a publisher’s perspective, creating one core EFL textbook and making very minor tweaks (usually illustrations) for each region works just fine. The downside, as many of us know from personal experience, is the resulting product often becomes bland, often fails to engage students, and effectively allows the most closed societies to dictate content across the globe. Both English teachers and their students lose access to more meaningful, reflective, and accurate information and wider, more modern and tolerant perspectives.
Yet satisfying student interest is far less important from a global sales perspective than meeting a ruling regime’s dictates to re-enforce local beliefs and uphold the political status quo. These larger concerns translate into many boring EFL textbooks that both pander and overlook local cultures by promoting a one-size fits all English language learners textbook. As of now, many of these well-known EFL titles still manage to sell huge numbers – and avoid dozens of engaging topics that directly relate to students’ actual lives, experiences, and hopes. For instance, English students in poor Asian, African, and Central American countries currently have to learn about housing vocabulary written from an abstract, universal perspective with examples from London, New York, and Tokyo. How relevant, appropriate, or accurate will the housing vocabulary be?
Yet there is a better, smarter, and more culturally sophisticated way to both acknowledge the political realities of working in closed societies and create more engaging EFL textbooks that express and reflect national cultures. We could develop more appropriate EFL materials that authentically reflect the actual life experiences and aspirations of English language learners in their current context. More on that topic in the next Compelling Conversations blog post.
English reigns supreme as the international language for business, media culture, and academic research in 2009. Some experts even estimate that more individuals speak English as a second, third, or fourth language than as a native tongue. What are the practical classroom applications of this situation for English teachers?
Let me be more specific. Should British English or American English be the standard for English language learners? What about an International English with a focused vocabulary of perhaps only 3,000 practical words? Or are we drifting toward a wide diversity of different English dialectics, perhaps even separate languages that some scholars call World Englishes? Would the location of the classroom matter? Do the goals, ages, and perceived needs of the English language learners determine the answer? As TESOL members know, this topic has become a very hot debate in the field of applied linguistics, EFL, and ESL.
My recent visit to Vietnam – and intensive interviews with over 20 English language learner at an international high school – have certainly clarified some of the faultlines. For instance, if a Vietnamese high school senior wants to study in Australia, Britain, Canada, or the United States, they clearly must meet a much higher standard of English competency. High academic standards remain essential, especially for ambitious students seeking admission to competitive universities.
Yet, as Kirkpatrick notes, the vast, vast majority of Vietnamese studying English will never study or work abroad. Nor is the typical Vietnamese English student likely to immigrant to an English speaking country. What standard of English should the typical Vietnamese worker aspire to speak? Why? Context, as ever, seems essential. Perhaps, as Kirkpatrick argues, Vietnamese will develop a distinct version of English to meet their needs – and word endings are dropped.
My TEFL.net book review outlines the Kirkpatrick’s controversial thesis, his principal examples, and central arguments. It also includes my perceptions of the limits and difficulties with his increasingly influential perspective. Naturally, I hope you read it – and share your reaction with me.
How would you choose an English language school? What if you lived in Korea, Spain, China, Brazil, Turkey, or Vietnam? What factors would influence your decision? How would you find out the school’s reputation? Who ranks ESL programs? What is their criteria?
Hundreds of thousands of students travel thousands of miles each semester to attend ESL schools. These intensive English language programs, often affiliated at universities, provide an opportunity to study English, live abroad, and prepare for the all-important TOEFL test. Given the importance of English to the business, scientific, and political events, the ability to read, write, and speak English often seems mandatory to ambitious 21st century students.
Yet, like any consumer product, the quality of the schools widely varies. How would a student make a rational choice?
This question emerged as I spoke with several dozen international students this week about their resumes, educational backgrounds, and training in English. While this elite group of mostly graduate students had succeeded in the academic game, several shared stories of unpleasant experiences at language schools. Sometimes students found a huge gap between their expectations and their actual American classroom experiences.
The apparent randomness of significant decisions often surprises me. Normally, I consult friends and established rankings as part of a decision making process. Yet a single thin piece of information, or casual conversation, can easily alter plans. Still I remember systematically searching through numerous guidebooks while selecting my college.
Where can students looking for a quality English language programs abroad find this sort of information? Does TESOL have some list of approved or sanctioned schools? Does somebody else – perhaps even local governments – track the effectiveness of schools? Further, what is their criteria? Where can individuals – students, teachers, parents – get that simple, yet vital bit of information? Is any of this information available in English, instead of the first language?
I would suspect, especially for international students of considerable income, that there would have to be somebody who attempts to grade, evaluate, and rank ESL schools. If I was going to travel to the United States, Australia, or the United Kingdom, I would certainly want to know the quality of the program and teachers. Even I was just going to a local English school or attending a public adult education center, I would still check on the school’s reputation. Of course, recruiters provide some information too – often with a twist. Given the potential investment in money and time, I assume that guides must exist – and probably not in English.
The best English language source that I have found, so far, is a site called http://www.eslreview.org . It rates schools on a scale of 1-5 on teaching, location, housing services, price-quality relationship, and overall satisfaction. You can find basic information and read student reviews. You can also browse through the course catalog and contact the schools. This website review is a starting point, but not much more. The listings look like they could easily be gamed. They also don’t list school accreditations, average TOEFL scores, or hire staff to inspect the schools. Further, the list doesn’t include some prominent IEP schools in California. So it’s a valuable starting point to compare ESL schools, but it is hardly a Petersen’s Guide to IEP programs.
