SPEAK UP / Let's challenge Japanese English
Imagine that you come across the following sentence in a student's essay: "This summer I will challenge the bungee jump." How would you respond? As an English teacher raised in Ohio, I find this sentence unnatural, even a bit humorous. ("Bungee jump, I challenge you!") In the past, I would have simply drawn a line through the sentence, and written above it, "This summer I will try bungee jumping."
This simple correction, however, is charged with ethical implications. The fact that Japanese people regularly use "challenge" in this fashion, and that such usages often appear in advertisements here, suggests that this is an example of standard Japanese English, and is therefore valid.
It may sound funny to a native English speaker, but perhaps it would be understood, and would work in a variety of contexts. Besides, in a world where the overwhelming majority of English speakers are "nonnative," why should one variety of English--Midwestern American English--be the standard? When I reject students' words and replace them with my own, what message do I send to them?
Yet, by letting the sentence go I feel that I am neglecting my duty as a teacher, as well as disregarding my students' expectations. And the sentence does, to be honest, bother me.
Aya Matsuda, an assistant professor of applied linguistics at Arizona State University, touched upon this subject in a presentation at the Japan Association for Language Teaching's annual conference held in November last year in Shizuoka. Matsuda, originally from Japan, has written and presented extensively about the global spread of English and its implications for teaching. One of her goals is to make educators across the globe more aware of the English as an international language (EIL) approach. Such an approach would enable students to use English in international contexts, with nonnative English speakers as well as native English speakers. (As I have written in a previous article, which appeared in the June 2 issue, Japanese people are far more likely to use English with nonnative speakers than with native speakers, whether in Japan or abroad.)
At the core of the EIL approach, however, is an extremely difficult question: Which variety of English should we teach to students? According to Matsuda, three options are available to EIL-minded teachers in Japan, all of them imperfect.
First, instructors may choose to teach one variety of English that would be intelligible in all international or intercultural contexts. This is the ideal. The problem is that no such "almighty" variety of English exists. The preferred variety to use depends upon the context.
Second, instructors may choose to accept Japanese English as the target English for students to learn. This is Japan, after all. Perhaps it is best for Japanese learners to make use of a variety of English that best expresses Japanese values and culture. This is an attractive idea, but quite impractical. "Japanese English" has yet to be clearly defined, and even if it were possible to establish a model of Japanese English, its functional range is highly limited--basically, in Japan, and with other Japanese. (What then is the point of speaking English?) Moreover, it is unlikely that such an approach would satisfy students, to say nothing of their parents or educators, or those in the government.
The third option, which Matsuda reluctantly accepts, is to use an established variety of English, one that would be relatively well-accepted in a variety of international contexts. Standard American English or British English could thus be used. However, such an approach reinforces the dominance of the United States and Britain. It reinforces the "deficit model"--that nonnative learners are handicapped by language deficits, and will always be measured against the unattainable ideal of the "native speaker." It is an ethically iffy option, but for the moment it is the best there is.
Native-speaking English instructors may feel vindicated here. It may be all right to correct that "bungee jump" sentence.
I asked Matsuda how she would respond if she encountered this sentence in a student's essay. Her response was that this sentence is comprehensible to her and possibly other readers who are proficient in Japanese, but it may not be comprehensible to others. How she would respond to this usage would depend on the students and their particular goals, the purpose of the writing assignment, and the audience for the essay.
For instance, if students were at a lower English proficiency level, and the purpose of the assignment was to provide students with more writing experience to help build their confidence, she may let this one go, and focus her comments on the content of the student's essay.
For learners with more advanced English skills who intend to study abroad, say in the United States, she would probably say that this use of "challenge" is comprehensible to her but may not be understood by Americans, and then introduce more common expressions.
Moreover, Matsuda always indicates an audience when giving students a writing assignment. If the intended audience of the assignment is classmates, she may not correct this use of "challenge." However, if the intended audience is international tourists, she would probably say that for this particular audience, this usage would not work.
By responding in this manner, Matsuda shows how error correction involves much more than measuring student-generated language against a static, native speaker standard. It is focused on students' abilities, needs and goals.
Simply crossing out that sentence and rewriting it may thus not be the best option. Letting the student know that this is not how I, as an American, would say it may be more appropriate--but then there is the problem of time, or rather lack of it, when confronted with a stack of papers. Clearly, there are no simple answers to issues related to error correction.
Perhaps it is most important for English teachers, both native-speaking and nonnative-speaking, to recognize the complexity of this issue, and that the English one chooses to use in class is one of many Englishes. After all, there is a whole world out there, a world in which some people struggle to learn English, and others challenge learning it.
Willey is a lecturer at Kagawa University in Takamatsu.
(Jan. 12, 2010) source Daily Yomiuri and japan_now
This simple correction, however, is charged with ethical implications. The fact that Japanese people regularly use "challenge" in this fashion, and that such usages often appear in advertisements here, suggests that this is an example of standard Japanese English, and is therefore valid.
It may sound funny to a native English speaker, but perhaps it would be understood, and would work in a variety of contexts. Besides, in a world where the overwhelming majority of English speakers are "nonnative," why should one variety of English--Midwestern American English--be the standard? When I reject students' words and replace them with my own, what message do I send to them?
Yet, by letting the sentence go I feel that I am neglecting my duty as a teacher, as well as disregarding my students' expectations. And the sentence does, to be honest, bother me.
Aya Matsuda, an assistant professor of applied linguistics at Arizona State University, touched upon this subject in a presentation at the Japan Association for Language Teaching's annual conference held in November last year in Shizuoka. Matsuda, originally from Japan, has written and presented extensively about the global spread of English and its implications for teaching. One of her goals is to make educators across the globe more aware of the English as an international language (EIL) approach. Such an approach would enable students to use English in international contexts, with nonnative English speakers as well as native English speakers. (As I have written in a previous article, which appeared in the June 2 issue, Japanese people are far more likely to use English with nonnative speakers than with native speakers, whether in Japan or abroad.)
At the core of the EIL approach, however, is an extremely difficult question: Which variety of English should we teach to students? According to Matsuda, three options are available to EIL-minded teachers in Japan, all of them imperfect.
First, instructors may choose to teach one variety of English that would be intelligible in all international or intercultural contexts. This is the ideal. The problem is that no such "almighty" variety of English exists. The preferred variety to use depends upon the context.
Second, instructors may choose to accept Japanese English as the target English for students to learn. This is Japan, after all. Perhaps it is best for Japanese learners to make use of a variety of English that best expresses Japanese values and culture. This is an attractive idea, but quite impractical. "Japanese English" has yet to be clearly defined, and even if it were possible to establish a model of Japanese English, its functional range is highly limited--basically, in Japan, and with other Japanese. (What then is the point of speaking English?) Moreover, it is unlikely that such an approach would satisfy students, to say nothing of their parents or educators, or those in the government.
The third option, which Matsuda reluctantly accepts, is to use an established variety of English, one that would be relatively well-accepted in a variety of international contexts. Standard American English or British English could thus be used. However, such an approach reinforces the dominance of the United States and Britain. It reinforces the "deficit model"--that nonnative learners are handicapped by language deficits, and will always be measured against the unattainable ideal of the "native speaker." It is an ethically iffy option, but for the moment it is the best there is.
Native-speaking English instructors may feel vindicated here. It may be all right to correct that "bungee jump" sentence.
I asked Matsuda how she would respond if she encountered this sentence in a student's essay. Her response was that this sentence is comprehensible to her and possibly other readers who are proficient in Japanese, but it may not be comprehensible to others. How she would respond to this usage would depend on the students and their particular goals, the purpose of the writing assignment, and the audience for the essay.
For instance, if students were at a lower English proficiency level, and the purpose of the assignment was to provide students with more writing experience to help build their confidence, she may let this one go, and focus her comments on the content of the student's essay.
For learners with more advanced English skills who intend to study abroad, say in the United States, she would probably say that this use of "challenge" is comprehensible to her but may not be understood by Americans, and then introduce more common expressions.
Moreover, Matsuda always indicates an audience when giving students a writing assignment. If the intended audience of the assignment is classmates, she may not correct this use of "challenge." However, if the intended audience is international tourists, she would probably say that for this particular audience, this usage would not work.
By responding in this manner, Matsuda shows how error correction involves much more than measuring student-generated language against a static, native speaker standard. It is focused on students' abilities, needs and goals.
Simply crossing out that sentence and rewriting it may thus not be the best option. Letting the student know that this is not how I, as an American, would say it may be more appropriate--but then there is the problem of time, or rather lack of it, when confronted with a stack of papers. Clearly, there are no simple answers to issues related to error correction.
Perhaps it is most important for English teachers, both native-speaking and nonnative-speaking, to recognize the complexity of this issue, and that the English one chooses to use in class is one of many Englishes. After all, there is a whole world out there, a world in which some people struggle to learn English, and others challenge learning it.
Willey is a lecturer at Kagawa University in Takamatsu.
(Jan. 12, 2010) source Daily Yomiuri and japan_now