This article was written by iACT ESL
teacher, Susan Branyas.
iACT’s English as a Second Language evening class at the YMCA on Rundberg Lane in north Austin, is a drop in satellite class for students who are unable to come to our main site downtown or who are working during the daytime. The dynamics in that class are quite different from the regular classes at our main site in downtown Austin.
My ESL class at the “Y” on Rundberg always reminds me of the scene in “Dances with Wolves” where Costner meets Two Socks, and a tango of trust and mistrust ensues, half battle of wits, half ill-disguised longing to be allured into a rich and honorable friendship. In Spanish, we’d say, “quiero y no puedo…” (I want to, but I can’t…) – not yet, not until I trust you, not until I can speak your language.
Building trust and strong relationships is what all teachers aspire to, getting to know your students intimately, catering to their needs and secret motivations, and I had assumed that the “Y” would be no different. But with the level of linguistic competency being so low, and the more stable students moving on to their first jobs so quickly, I was rather disappointed at first, and confused as to how I would manage to instill trust in my students and give them the confidence they needed to survive in the real world, if time was short and the class so multi-tiered.
And as numbers swelled, the “Y” was beginning to feel more and more like Walmart on Black Friday, with some students staying for the long haul, while others would visit sporadically and then disappear into the night, never to return. So by force major my teaching became much more teacher-centric, less democratic, and yes, alas, even more impersonal. I felt like a traffic warden, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to place names to faces.
Then a new picture started to emerge. Impersonality or student “anonymity” could be, I realized, a very useful psycho-pedagogical tool. Anonymity levels the playing field. Everyone is equal. Everyone is accepted. Everyone must work hard. Anonymity allows students to leave their troubled pasts at the door, giving themselves permission to just enjoy the moment. It opens the door to new personas – as they experiment through trial-and-error with their “English” voice, without fear of judgment. (If you don’t have a face to begin with, you can’t possibly lose it, right?) For those with zero English, theirs was the cloak of invisibility, at least temporarily. And interestingly enough, students began leaving their comfort zones to share tables with people from other ethnic groups, and thus creating a more dynamic and realistic L2 experience for all.
Assuming their anonymity, students have become extremely grateful when – during some pair work or other — I tap them on the shoulder individually and commend them for one specific thing they did really well in class. It’s the magic of a full circle. Let’s tango – even if I still don’t know your name.



