I've made it back to Melbourne, in more or less one piece. Got back on Tuesday and have spent the past few days catching up with friends and sorting out the apartment. To be honest, I'm already looking forward to going back to India. But there's a lot of stuff that needs to be done in the meantime.
Friends have been asking me what I've been doing over in Nepal and India. Though I'd love to condense it all into a 30 second speech that I can repeat over and over again, it's just not going to happen. I tell them I'm looking at minority language education (MLE), especially teaching kids to read and write in their home language, not a foreign language. I also look at language documentation projects for minority / endangered languages, including recording traditional songs and stories, as well as dictionary making.
The push for MLE is particularly strong now, given that more and more parents are sending their kids to schools where a dominant language like English (or Nepali in Nepal) is the main / only medium of instruction. Most people think it would be better to do this, so that the kids will have better English and thus be able to get a better job, and it does sound good in theory. The reality is that children who go to such schools with very little exposure to the dominant language like English at home find school frustrating and quite traumatic. Imagine being dumped in a foreign environment for a few hours a day (this is not an immersion programme) and forced to learn everything from how to read and write to how to count in a foreign language. Children either slog it out and memorise things without understanding them (so there's little cognitive development) or worse, just drop out of school altogether.
Research has shown in places like the Philippines that students who go to schools which implement MLE for the first few years of a child's education and slowly transition to English as the medium of instruction (after introducing it as a subject) actually end up doing better in both their home language and in English. Of course the success of such programmes depends on other factors, including the teachers and the actual curriculum, but it's not hard to imagine the opposite, where kids get frustrated at school when they can't understand much of what's happening.
This brings me back to a point that my friend Linda brought up while we were in Tezpur for the NEILS conference. It was about how sometimes linguists appear to be telling people to preserve their own language, even if the speakers don't see any economic advantage. And I agree, I don't see why linguists should have a say in it. I know people who regret the loss / decline of their language a generation or two later - I belong to one such group, but I'm actually not that sentimental about language loss. Sure, we're losing 'windows' into different worlds, but you can't tell someone to keep speaking a language they don't see value in just so they can keep the language alive for the sake of keeping it alive. I suspect, the fear is the loss of linguistic data which is the driving force behind many a linguist (including one I met up with in Singapore earlier this week who completely disgusted me with the way he treated his language consultant).
While I am not for telling speakers what to speak, I do believe that if there is evidence to show that teaching kids in their home language actually helps significantly with their schooling, I am all for presenting the evidence and advocating to schools and parents that this is what they should be doing.
Now this sounds a lot less impressive than it really is, considering that I'm not trained in producing educational materials for primary school children. But I do know people who work with communities to develop minority language materials for schools in NE India and will be looking at the opportunities to collaborate with them and run workshops in Nagaland to produce said materials.
There's a lot more that needs to be said about this, but I'll be revisiting this stuff later this year. For the time being I'd like to thank everyone who's been keeping up with my updates. The blog will return from hiatus sometime in late 2011.
As a final note, a linguistics professor once said that she had been asked whether she spoke to the language she worked on. She didn't, so the next question was how she could study something she didn't speak. Her response was that a physicist can study the motion of a ball - its speed and trajectory, but it doesn't mean the physicist can play basketball.
That was her metaphor. I'd like to extend that by saying that yes, physicists don't necessarily play basketball. But physicists would never tell basketball players how to play ball, so why do linguists tell speakers what to do with their language? In basketball we have coaches who understand the physics (they don't dedicate their whole lives to observe how particles move) and also have experience with the game. Similarly, we need people like that to bridge the gap between theoretical linguistics and actual language development programmes.
Friends have been asking me what I've been doing over in Nepal and India. Though I'd love to condense it all into a 30 second speech that I can repeat over and over again, it's just not going to happen. I tell them I'm looking at minority language education (MLE), especially teaching kids to read and write in their home language, not a foreign language. I also look at language documentation projects for minority / endangered languages, including recording traditional songs and stories, as well as dictionary making.
The push for MLE is particularly strong now, given that more and more parents are sending their kids to schools where a dominant language like English (or Nepali in Nepal) is the main / only medium of instruction. Most people think it would be better to do this, so that the kids will have better English and thus be able to get a better job, and it does sound good in theory. The reality is that children who go to such schools with very little exposure to the dominant language like English at home find school frustrating and quite traumatic. Imagine being dumped in a foreign environment for a few hours a day (this is not an immersion programme) and forced to learn everything from how to read and write to how to count in a foreign language. Children either slog it out and memorise things without understanding them (so there's little cognitive development) or worse, just drop out of school altogether.
Research has shown in places like the Philippines that students who go to schools which implement MLE for the first few years of a child's education and slowly transition to English as the medium of instruction (after introducing it as a subject) actually end up doing better in both their home language and in English. Of course the success of such programmes depends on other factors, including the teachers and the actual curriculum, but it's not hard to imagine the opposite, where kids get frustrated at school when they can't understand much of what's happening.
This brings me back to a point that my friend Linda brought up while we were in Tezpur for the NEILS conference. It was about how sometimes linguists appear to be telling people to preserve their own language, even if the speakers don't see any economic advantage. And I agree, I don't see why linguists should have a say in it. I know people who regret the loss / decline of their language a generation or two later - I belong to one such group, but I'm actually not that sentimental about language loss. Sure, we're losing 'windows' into different worlds, but you can't tell someone to keep speaking a language they don't see value in just so they can keep the language alive for the sake of keeping it alive. I suspect, the fear is the loss of linguistic data which is the driving force behind many a linguist (including one I met up with in Singapore earlier this week who completely disgusted me with the way he treated his language consultant).
While I am not for telling speakers what to speak, I do believe that if there is evidence to show that teaching kids in their home language actually helps significantly with their schooling, I am all for presenting the evidence and advocating to schools and parents that this is what they should be doing.
Now this sounds a lot less impressive than it really is, considering that I'm not trained in producing educational materials for primary school children. But I do know people who work with communities to develop minority language materials for schools in NE India and will be looking at the opportunities to collaborate with them and run workshops in Nagaland to produce said materials.
There's a lot more that needs to be said about this, but I'll be revisiting this stuff later this year. For the time being I'd like to thank everyone who's been keeping up with my updates. The blog will return from hiatus sometime in late 2011.
As a final note, a linguistics professor once said that she had been asked whether she spoke to the language she worked on. She didn't, so the next question was how she could study something she didn't speak. Her response was that a physicist can study the motion of a ball - its speed and trajectory, but it doesn't mean the physicist can play basketball.
That was her metaphor. I'd like to extend that by saying that yes, physicists don't necessarily play basketball. But physicists would never tell basketball players how to play ball, so why do linguists tell speakers what to do with their language? In basketball we have coaches who understand the physics (they don't dedicate their whole lives to observe how particles move) and also have experience with the game. Similarly, we need people like that to bridge the gap between theoretical linguistics and actual language development programmes.
