This post is in response to Lee Leonard’s “A Typical Day Teaching English in Saudi Arabia.”
Like the darling buds of May, Saudi Arabia is a perennial favourite of discussion for English teachers. Every year a new crop of teachers brave the unknown to come and experience the Magic Kingdom. But rough winds do shake, and many teachers don’t last long.
So when I saw a new article about teaching in Saudi Arabia I didn’t think much of it. I bookmarked it to read later. I come across these articles all the time: new teacher to Saudi Arabia (or his wife) trying to make sense of the mess he’s thrown himself in to. Even for the most experienced traveller, the culture shock one experiences here is very much like no other. But for me, it’s “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, and then came back again.” So it wasn’t until a colleague of mine in the UK sent me the same link and asked me what I thought about it, did I actually stop to read it. What I read was not surprising in the least, but no less disappointing. Read the article for yourself here.
When I first started reading I felt an immediate sense of empathy. His experiences echoed my own and that of other colleagues and bloggers– everything was true. The students were chronically late, had a penchant for fatty foods, and a general disdain for exertion both academic and physical. What I took issue with was the tone of the article and more importantly, his classroom management style.
The writer sounds a lot like myself when I first arrived in the Magic Kingdom back in 2013. I was naïve but ambitious. I felt that I had a mandate to bring my fresh and innovative Cantabrigian approaches to whip the next generation of Saudi learners into shape. I mean, that’s why they hired me, right? Lol. Without going into much detail, it was a challenge to say the least and I felt like everything, from the students to the administration to my own colleagues, was against me at times. CELTA and Delta don’t prepare you for a place like this. They assume your students (and higher ups) have already gone through a ‘western’ education and are disciplined and motivated enough to appreciate your efforts. It comes as a shock, then, when there is so much resistance to your approach. I felt I understood the author’s frustration.
It starts when he asks a student that has come in late, “Would you like some tea?” I thought they were doing a functions lesson on eating out at a restaurant. “Would you like some cake?” he continued. But as this went on it started to take on a more degenerate tone culminating with “this… is a classroom not a coffee shop.” It doesn’t stop there however, but it should have. He continues to berate the student with another line of sarcastic questioning and asking pedantic and abstract grammar rules. A less experienced me would have cheered this behaviour on. “You show him!” I probably would have said to myself, silently nodding approval in his direction. But this kind of heavy handedness, this kind of rule-stickling, causes more stress than its supposed worth. And no “rule-stickling is not a real word, but it should be. We as teachers here are indeed in the business of teaching English, and also academic/study skills, professionalism, etc. because they do, for the most part, lack these skills. But we are not here to humiliate and degrade students. This teacher ate up 5-7 minutes (maybe even more) of precious class time to make an example of this student rather than reward the students who did show up on time with his full attention. Aside from suffering this indignity, this student will have to write “I will not be late” 15 times on a piece of paper which he’ll have to turn into said teacher. How dare this student forget “one of the 23 class rules, he signed a pledge to uphold”! Mind you, these are not children. They are college age 18-21.
Also, what does the student’s weight or health have to do with anything?
He admits “It may seem that I am being an overbearing asshole, but my class works, and the kids love it.” This may be true in the short term, but being a pedant or having a reputation for pettiness will not serve well in the long run. If a typical day involves going over the “23 rules” and chastising students publicly for relatively minor indiscretions, you’re doing it wrong. You would be surprised how far a stern look and polite gesturing will go. In my experience, sarcasm rarely achieved more than a few cheap laughs and a small boost to my ego for the day. This, at the cost of mutual trust and respect. Taking a step back, I know I wouldn’t appreciate being in this student’s position, especially as an adult. I’m not really sure what the point of this article was besides to make a caricature out of the country and this poor student.
I used to employ tactics similar to his. Not as extreme, but I was known as the “hard” teacher. Some students respected me, but the vast majority resented me. I blamed their resentment on a lack of understanding the intent of my methods. Which for the most part was true, but I never fully accepted that if I expected them to change I, too, would need to change my methods to reach them. That’s my job. That’s not to say it’s always the teachers fault but I think our belief in what we do and how we do what do often interferes with the reality in the classroom. Sometimes we need to take a step back and critically re-evaluate our roles and our methods to make sure we’re as effective as we can be. This is especially true in a new country and with new students.
(one of my lessons on nationalities…obviously the pre-teaching stage of the activity.)
Maybe we, as British or American (or Canadian, Irish, Australian, South African, etc.) teachers should stop looking at Saudi culture as a problem to be fixed. Who are we to think we can change a society or the institutions it’s made of? Regardless of our qualifications or years of experience, we are not messiahs. Yes, Saudization charges us with equipping our learners with the skills they need to take their country into the 21st century, but as long as we continue to infantalise the young people of this country, we can never expect them to realise their potential. Or maybe that’s been the point all along.
Next post: British versus American teacher-training styles