http://whenwaterwaseverywhere.com/?x=viagra-next-day-delivery My mother, in her career days, was a secondary school English teacher and she instilled in me love for the written word. As far back as I can remember, she read stories and verses to me aloud, steered me in the direction of a book when I was bored and took me to plays to see how wonderful the written word is when it comes to life on stage. She always quoted poetry and still does to this day, though she now forgets a line or two in the recitation. When Autumn rolled around, she’d often quote from In November, written in 1895 by Canadian poet Archibald Lampman. This was her go-to poem to highlight the quiet, austere beauty of November, the downtime after October’s abundant harvests and flamboyant forests and the calm before December’s indulgence and merriment. November, with its ‘fallen leaves’ and ‘thin light’ was, and is, for her, a serene month of grays and browns, a time for reflection.
http://cinziamazzamakeup.com/?x=viagra-generico-50-mg-italia-pagamento-online So this month, with my mother’s musings in mind, I want to reflect on and share something I’ve done in my Spanish classes for years: teach to the inner child. If you’re reading this as a second-language teacher, I invite you to try some of the activities in your classes. I say the activities, not my activities because their source is vague — childhood parties, years of parenting, instances of catering to personal whims that come from who-knows-where, moments of re-booting the creative parts of my brain so I don’t slip into a pedagogical slump. There have been times when I’m filling jars with jelly beans or wandering around the toy section of a shop, looking for fake money, thinking to myself, “Jeez, Rosemary. You teach adults. Don’t be such a child!” But then when people tumble into the classroom from full days of work outside the home and/or raising families and/or caring for ailing parents, the activities which leapt out of the childish part of my brain always work the best. They are also great to pull out in the last ten minutes of a class when people are beginning to contemplate a good night’s sleep over irregular verbs. I’m coming to believe the success of kiddish activities is that they often appeal to our senses of sight, touch, taste and smell as well as to the sense of hearing which is a given in any language class. At our core, we are physical, tactile beings so why should language instruction only cater to one or two senses?
http://cinziamazzamakeup.com/?x=comprare-viagra-generico-25-mg-spedizione-veloce-a-Venezia As I proceed down this thought path, figurative leaves crunching underfoot and figurative gray swathed overhead, I want to make a philosophical point that languages are there to be shared as are the methods of teaching those languages. Anyone who asserts ownership over voice and the channels through which voice is acquired is contradicting the gift and the art of language teaching. The very nature of language teaching and learning is exchange. So please and por favor, feel free to test my November suggestions — if you’re a teacher, in your classes, and if you’re a student, at your kitchen table. Now if you don’t mind, I have some jellybeans to count.