Before I came to Korea I had used chopsticks on and off and could at least get the food to my mouth without dropping it, well, most of the time anyway. Over the years I have lived here, my proficiency with chopsticks has improved off the scale, yet I noticed something a few years ago. I don't hold chopsticks the same way Koreans do, yet I can use chopsticks just as well as they can. In that little observation, a whole philosophy of learning appeared before my eyes. Proficiency lies not in technical imitation, but in the extent of usage. Tell someone to reach a goal, give him a pointer or two, and let him go. Given the opportunity to practice the skill, they will arrive at the goal, though maybe not the same way you had intended nor with the same style you expected.
Learning English (or any language) works the same way. However, here in Korea, many are obsessed with technical imitation which ultimately defeats most of them long before they gain suitable proficiency in the language. My observation isn't some novel approach to the whole English learning endeavor, because I have heard experienced English teachers say over and over that improvement comes with usage. Speak more, write more, listen more, read more, and your language skills will improve. However, instead of creating an abundance of opportunities for real and genuine use of English, many universities and communities in Korea discourage such things in favor of classroom rote and mimicry. For example, I have online conversation classes in the 3D virtual world of Second Life. Many of my learners appreciate that this environment compels them to use English extensively whether in my class setting or elsewhere in the online environment. The virtual reality allows a much more realistic use of the language than they find in a brick & mortar classroom. They can not only meet native English speakers as well as people from any number of other countries who use the English language within the virtual world, they can also exchange real and personal ideas and opinions in the common language and receive back the same from others. Usage improves skill. It's true with a hedge trimmer, it's true with pastry, it's true with language. However, our school is closing its presence in Second Life and enforcing the rule that language education must take place as though it were no different than a math, science, or history class. English is data to be learned, not a language to be used.
Another hindrance to learning, at our school anyway, is that the English speaking teaching staff are crowded into mass offices with many teachers per office. My students find it uncomfortable to come to my office, because there are eleven other teachers sitting there listening to them, and I am in the least populated office. It's intimidating, to the low level learner especially, to visit a teacher in this environment. The university thinks it's the teachers who just want private or semi-private offices for our own comfort, but the reality is, it's the students who suffer from this secretarial pool setting where they are too nervous to come see their teacher because it's like stepping on a stage in front of an audience. Nobody likes their problems or academic difficulties on display like that, especially if their language skills are minimal. It's like seeing your priest or rabbi for a personal problem while a dozen strangers are listening in. The university is discouraging student-English teacher interaction by denying the student-teacher privacy all other teachers at the university are favored with. If I were a student, I would not come see my teacher in a room full of strangers unless I absolutely had to, but that's what we see not just here but all across the realm of the Korean English education system. Our students don't come by our offices to talk; they come for incidental reasons. They come to take make-up tests. They come to turn in a late homework. They come to ask a quick question about when their midterm exam is. They come to bring a can of Pocari Sweat as a gift. They do not come to consult with the teacher to help them speak English better, because in a room of many other teachers, you cannot speak freely, you have to lower your voice, you are distracted. The Korean education system once again rallies to assert its time-tested recipe for failure.
There are thousands and thousands of native English speakers living in Korea, yet the schools and universities ignore us as a resource. We are just foreigners and workers who need to be controlled and constricted. Many of us have degrees in subjects that allow us to teach those subjects either in high schools or universities, yet the Koreans opt to use us only in "conversation" classes which meet once a week, if there isn't one of their innumerable holidays in the way of that. Unless we have fluency in Korean language, we are not allowed to teach our subjects which defeats the whole reason we are supposedly here in Korea in the first place, to provide opportunities for them to use English in real-life situations. The Koreans started this 'learn English' venture and invited the thousands and thousands of us here to help them fulfill it while at the same time tying our hands behind our backs, gagging us, and generally ensuring that we will not get too comfortable in their country. Some teachers stick it out because there are no jobs back home worth taking. Some stick it out because they believe there is no problem, that people like me are simply exaggerating Korean ineptitude. Some, though, just get sick of the hypocrisy and lip service to education and go where their contributions will be appreciated.
Koreans amaze me in many ways. They are obviously a long-established homogenous people. Their nation is so old that no language has survived that is related to Korean. That's pretty cool. Their general outlook on life and society can be thought-provoking and even admirable. It's their inflexibility that also amazes me, however. Their reticence to create or to innovate is holding them back too much. I love Korea, and I don't say that flippantly. Sure, I get irritated with the nuisances of daily life here, but so do native Koreans; when all is said and done, though, and I'm sitting at home with my cat on my lap and warm cup of tea in my hands, I can reflect and honestly say that I do love Korea. It's not from any malice that I bring up the serious inadequacies of the Korean approach to language education. It's because I know they can do better. It's because I know English is crucial to success in the modern world and I want every Korean to succeed. If Koreans don't come to grips with how language is learned and implement changes necessary to ensure the common language takes root in their country, they will not be nearly as successful as they could be. Korea, we are here for you, but if you don't change your attitude, we might not stay.
