Parting Thoughts of IC 2011

First, I want to say how absolutely blown away I was from this conference. Krashen, Kumaravadivelu, Folse: incredible plenaries!

I set out almost 2 years ago to create a conference that would give participants the best possible experience they paid for; not the usual, same old speakers.

To be honest, I had NO idea the speakers would be THIS engaging. Chuck Sandy was just enthralling; Nick Groom made nerd stuff seem sooooo cool, Gavin Dudeney really showed the importance of technology, as did Ken Beatty. Keith Folse - INCREDIBLE! Who would've thought that grammar teaching could be so fun? Keith, obviously... Muna Morris-Adams was great, Rob Dickey repped KOTESOL like no other could; Tom Farrell, the perennial crowd favourite didn't disappoint with his always affable sense of humour; Setsuko Toyama, who I thought of when I formulated the 'teacher workshop template' when I asked the inviteds to do extra stuff, was just....FABULOUS! Krashen was of course the crowd draw, and at times, I thought we were at a revivalist church - outbursts of "Oh Yeah!" kept me in wait for a "Hallelujah!" Certainly Dr Krashen hammered home the need for extensive reading, multiple languages, and of course at least 3 cups of coffee a day!

My Krashen encounter came in the elevator Friday evening, at Mapo hotel. I keep forgetting how tall I am, and I was expecting a man 6 feet tall. In the elevator, diminutive and unassuming in his all black apparel, I recognised the glasses. He seemed rather jet lagged, but I had to poke into his mind space - a zone we build around ourselves on a elevator to avoid contact with others), "Dr Krashen, I am soooo stoked for your presentation tomorrow!" I said in an Oh so Valley Girl kind of way. He jerked around, awakened from his alter-place, "Really?" He asked, incredulous, as though he wondered what he was even doing there, but the sense of self deprecation seemed to seep through. Certainly, he did not disappoint the next day - quite the crowd player, a great presenter.

I think from a participant point of view, things ran very smoothly. Of course behind the scenes the crises were never ending: the internet "guy" shuffles in 3 hours LATE, 2 hours into the conference, so the morning presentations had no internet. Volunteers slept in, many not showing up until well after 9am, when 730 am was when we needed them most. From a venue perspective, I wondered why I spent so much of my budget on tips and "overtime" here and there, when it seems they couldn't be bothered to do their jobs. Still, Sookdae is a great venue, and VERY reasonably priced. The question is, what is the value worth when we annoy 20 presenters early the first morning. That said, if you can't deal with tech difficulties and have contingencies, you shouldn't be presenting at a conference... Another tick off was that internet wasn't up in the plenary hall until about 2 minutes before the opening ceremonies. This would have been fine, except I needed a laptop for my speech. I could have gone without, but the visual effects of my prezi were quite instrumental to the comedic timing. So as we are hooking up the computer, we realised that there was no Flash Player - integral for a prezi. You'd think that computers we had rented would at least have ppt and flash. It's laptop software 101. Oh well, so we install it, just as the Worker's Band came on. ERROR. More drums. ERROR. Dancing, singing, drumming. ERROR. Marilyn, the woman who recruiting our Opening Ceremonies Band tells them to do another round- like an air traffic controller telling a plane to hold the pattern. FINALLY, it loads. We download my program, and viola! The audience got an AMAZING cultural display, and I almost got an anyeurism ;)

The winner of the Franklin Spell Event - the 'World Championship Spelling Bee for Non-Native English Speakers" was yet AGAIN a young Korean girl. Yeo Jin Jung gave a 5 minute speech on her experiences through the whole process, and by the end had the audience in stitches - a natural comedian. Deadpan humour - my favourite.
Then our illustrious President got up for his address. "What is a para didgem?" He asked. Funny as hell! He continued, "Before this conference, I had no idea was a para didgem was. Do you know - hands up those of you who knew what a para didgem was without needing an dictionary?" First time funny, the second OK, the third: The Emperor's New Clothes. I normally would not have found it funny, but a) he had already been corrected on it at a conference committee meeting in August (if he had bothered to come to more meetings as the OP Liaison, he may have actually had it sink it) and b) he NEVER once consulted me about anything relating to our conference. You don't wanna play nice, then you can go play with ASS and UMPTION. Unfortunately, "Paradidgem" will be the watchword of this conference.

I then went up to explain the importance of a conference theme, and the relevance of "Pushing our Paradigms; Connecting with Culture". I won't waste blogspace here rehashing it, but I would be more than happy to send anyone interested my speech notes. The prezi went off without a hitch, and all in all, Opening Ceremonies out of the way, and that is the first hurdle.

I think the highlight for me was Dr Kumaravadivelu's speech on raising cultural consciousness. His subsequent workshop on Sunday was just perfect as a follow up to his plenary. I think for me though, spending Monday morning with Dr Kumar and my parents (who flew in from Canada for the Conference) was an unforgettable experience. We meandered through Insadong and up to the imperial palace for the changing of the guard. To be around such a learned man, so wise and intelligent, I am just so energized about what we do because of him. Just Incredible. An experience I will cherish.

The conference was hugely successful in spite of me; my conference team was just incredible. I had a Program Director, Phil Owen, who really 'flavoured' the conference by implementing a much more detailed and leveled vetting system that ensured a better conference experience. Vivien Slezak ran a great Guest Services, from bag distribution to presenter services (also the ubiquitous Maria Pinto), with all the Presenter airport pickups and last minute screw ups, Viv was my bottom of the ninth bases loaded pitcher; Curtis and his team in Support Services, with Mike and Rodney as Volunteer Services Co-ordinators (actually CO). They bit off a lot as ConComm rookies, but weathered it well. They did everything we asked of them, and never ONCE complained. Louisa van Dijk, my take-charge take-no-shit Reg Director along with Grace Wang handling the cash - dynamic duo if ever there were one...Sean my go-to Game Day guy as Tech Services; Kathy and Jo pulled off everything gastronomical. Maybe that should be the new name: VP Gastronomy. Jo ACTUALLY pulled off the Banquet AND the VIP President's Reception. Considering there was ZERO help from the president, and Jo was in Busan, it was just incredible. I was truly thrilled with Suji's reception Friday night, and if it weren't for Jo actually BEING there, I think her strong arming saved us from getting soaked. That is ONE incredible negotiator. Kathy did the Volunteer food, and THAT is the gas in the tank. Not to mention, her work liaising with the catering company Saturday night - Swiss House, was instrumental in putting on a great dinner.

Bellies full, I have to think of my CNS -Central Nervous System - that was Alisha Kwon. I wanted to call her position "glue" because that is what she did: she was the mortar that stuck the structure together. She was our Special Projects Coordinator, and without her, all the Swiss cheese holes on game day would NEVER have gotten filled. From accomodations, to finding counters (like umpires use) to helping print off certificates...She was my superstar. Ingrid made the stage work, Jaeho and Bob were unsung heroes dealing with OPs, and I have tonnes of other people to thank: Brian and Tammy, our Ambassadors - our face to the lost and worried participants; Allison Bill, like Maria - just everywhere. Of course there is my side kick and padawan, Stafford. There isn't much he could learn from me; he really picked up the slack and I have EVERY confidence he will run a tight ship next year and an even greater conference.

Dr Yeum was my emissary to the venue - Sookdae. Sometimes few words are best, lest they cloud the effect of meaning. Suffice it to say, without her, there would have been NO venue.

I of course have to thank Dave Shaffer; my shrink, my uncle, my father, my brother, my mentor my "Mr Money Bags". He was way more than a Financial Director - being "neighbours" at work, I would go see him at all hours (and I mean ALL hours) and he was always there, ready to hear, help and handle. Without Dave, I would have been rudderless and without a mast.

I missed a tonne of names, but know that each and everyone of you on the Committed (Gina, Mingi, MiKyoung), the vetters, the tech team, stage hands, and most of all the volunteers. I felt like I didn't matter because of the great team I had. That shows how wonderful of a crew you all are.

There was a very troubling note at the end, AFTER my conference was over, and that was the unpalatable affair called the ABM. So much infighting, so much manipulation and injustice, and cheating, and lying, and just too many people who are willing to sit idly by thinking about sunshine and rainbows and how we have to have confidence that things will sort themselves out, while the very evil that pervades uses that attitude as its license to spread its rot. Reminiscent of Zimbabwe, but to my relevance - Rwanda. I think of Edmund Burke who said, "All that is required for evil to succeed, is for good men to do nothing." Do not stop the fight against wrong, and continue the upward march of humanity.

After all was said, lied about and deviated, my conscience was clear and certainly the weight of responsibility of putting on the best conference in recent memory leapt from my shoulders with such force, that it sucked all emotion out of me. It was as though a vacuum pulled at my sinuses; I spontaneously broke out in tears - tears of joy and pride.



My Pecha Kucha on the History of the English Language:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIPyzGmvJdw&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

Interviews with our Invited Speakers:
http://koreabridge.net/kotesol/conference-conversations-2011-kotesol-international-conference

Residuals: The crumbs on the table from my layer cake

So there I was on the bus in Saint Petersburg a fortnight ago or so, and the bus ‘conductor’ was asking me where I wanted to go. I just couldn’t get the words out. I knew them. I had practiced them in my head, muttered them to myself quietly and even practiced aloud. I wouldn’t say languages come naturally to me, contrary to what many believe about me. Perhaps this was a case and point.
“Uh..Adma…Uh Admeeral…Uh…skalrajootye, pajalsta, Ad..Uh…Адма…Uh…Адми…Uh..скалжуте пажалста, Ад..”I stammered and stumbled through my long forgotten rudimentary Russian.
"Адмиралтеиский Проспект!!!“Admiralteyskiy Prospekt!” she exclaimed in an oh-so-third grade teacher kind of way, completing my awkward sentence as though she was completing an elementary cloze work activity, while she was in Grade 12 having to tutor her little, stupid brother. Clearly, she had heard this before. Be damned though if she would speak English to me. She then went on to explain, as best as I could understand her, that Adm…was a very long street that intersected the bus stop, you stupid American pig dog tourist. Yes she was still clearly harbouring animosity over the Cold War. After she outlined my lack of direction sense and intelligence, I nodded and nodded, da, eta Pravda, it’s true, cpaceeba, thank you, ya paneemayoo, I understand… AND….then I proceeded to get off at the next stop, requiring about another 2 km stroll down Neskee. Oh well, the day was beautiful, I needed to work off some of that British gluttony I ‘suffered’ through anyway….

“네, neh [pronounced deh]” was all I could say to confirm her assertion to me. I pretty much understood 70% of what she was saying to me (boy, who knew I’d remember that much from Russian classes), but I couldn’t even utter the affirmative “Da” without first passing it through Korean – known in the linguistic world as “language interference”. This is an area of linguistics I may very well explore in my Master’s thesis, but keep reading for an interesting peek through an experience I had in St
Petersburg…

The reason I couldn’t talk to her, I believe, is that I couldn’t hear my own voice (alluding of course to The King’s Speech). Before I go on, I feel I must articulate the few ground rules I have about this blog, and they namely include:
1. No public airing of dirty laundry (unless it very directly relates to the topic at hand, and even then no names, no pack drill…)
2. Keep the topics close to focus, writing about language, identity, my experiences with both, and on occasion, socio-historico-political economics if they relate to language somehow, or just tickle my own personal fixation on world history.

Some background may be needed here to shed light on how the events transpired as they did that day. I believe 2 factors were in play, the first one, a universal principle I hold to be true among ALL L2/L3 learners, is what I call the Layer Cake Principle. The other is the latent effects of a break up from a relationship; things you can’t quite quantify, but ruin your apparent efforts to reach sincerity in every day action. The latter I call residual effects or just residuals….
Without getting into a long dissertation (and thus spoiling my thesis), I am of the belief that as we acquire languages subsequent to L1, and even more evident when we get to L4 or L5 (the fourth or fifth language acquired), we tend to make speech production errors in the language most recently learned prior to the language the interlocutor is using, OR said errors are made in the most dominant language in one’s daily, usual environment. This is to say that if you speak, say English, French, Spanish, a smidgen of German, Russian, and one’s current environment is Korean, any interference in the language you are speaking (let’s call it the target language) will be either the dominant environmental language, or the most recently acquired language. I wish I could make a rule for when is which, but that is a discovery I am only too happy to leave to my research.

In my case, English and French were pretty much simultaneous for me, then I learned Mandarin, then Spanish, Japanese, German, Russian, and now I currently live in Korea. For the purposes of this article, let’s consider Japanese, Mandarin, German, and Russian to be ‘dormant’ – I haven’t used them to any great frequency lately. So, when I attempt Korean, the interference I get is obviously English (my most dominant language), but when I am really trying to speak Korean, the unconscious words that leak into my Korean are…Spanish-my most recent actively used language. When I was in Russia, you’d think that Spanish again would interfere, based on my presumption above. However, it was Korean that interfered! Why? I believe it is because Korean is the most dominant language (other than English) in my present environment. When I was in Japan in February, could I remember domo arigato gozaimasu? No, I kept saying Kam sa ham nida. The Japanese for thank-you is something I learned as a kid, before Spanish, Mandarin even. Thanks to my mother (I give her endless praise for my languages acquisition), I learned both Japanese and Russian formalities at an early age. Then in Russia, did I say спасиба? No, I said, “Kam sa ham nida.” In the words of my robot friend CNR-109-8763dvT, “Does not compute.” So clearly the layer cake has a sort of crust that envelopes the cake. Maybe it’s a layer pie then…Every time you gouge your fork into the pie, you get crust – the dominant language…

My own solipsism would have me believe that this phenomenon only occurs to me; however I had the great, fortuitous fortune of meeting a very lovely and enthralling woman in St Petersburg who shares the same kind of experience. ‘Esmeralda’ has a linguistic story that would make Rod Ellis’ head spin. Of Turkish decent, she grew up in Germany, spent some time in Spain, speaks French, her most recent language learned being Italian, and her she was in St Petersburg learning Russian. According to her, she is either a Common European Framework level C1 or C2 in Turkish, German, French, English, Spanish, and maybe Italian. Bottom line: she’s functional and fluent in 6 languages. And now, onto Russian. She had started taking Russian classes sometime around the turn of the year, and here we were, in a café, with her, her Russian boyfriend, conversing in Russian. OK, THEY were conversing. I was just trying to catch the odd word. Esmeralda was conversant at just 4 months of study! Good thing I don’t have an allergy to envy or jealousy. Now before you say, “Ah, it’s because she has a Russian boyfriend!” she had only been with him for a few weeks. Anyway, she’s just finished juggling Italian, and here we are at a coffee house in St Petersburg. What words are creeping into her Russian? Italian. “Como…e…per…bene…” Back channeling and filler words. Her boyfriend didn’t notice it, she didn’t notice it. But I did. Thanks to French and Spanish, I am familiar with Italian, and can identify the stray Italian word in a Russian conversation. I don’t think there is a drug in the world that could approximate that linguistic surrealism. 10 languages at that table that April night. My closest approximation would be to go to St Petersburg, FLORIDA, drop a tab of acid, go to the Dali Museum and stare at the Persistence of Memory until it spoke to you. Yup, that’s about the same tripiness I felt in the elder St Pete’s.

This digression should have illustrated to you the peculiarity of language acquisition, and in particular, the interference that other languages cause in speech production. Beyond language interference, I feel that our personal experiences can interfere with our language production. I call this residuals.
When I learn a language, and particularly when I speak it, I love to have fun with it. Act it out, spoof it, ham it up. Richard III the hell out of it in front of a mirror. I speak my best Japanese when I act like a samurai. In fact, it’s the same with Korean. One has to be culturally sensitive of course, but I feel I really nail the accent. In fact, in class the other day, I was trying to explain to my students “Can, can’t, have to, don’t have to.” I drew a parallel with them using the Korean sentence, “Son dae ji ma seyo,” Which means, “Don’t touch.” You see this in elevators. This point is to emphasize “Don’t” and “Can’t”. I have 7 classes of 35 students. In 4 of them, I explained to them the expression, even writing the Korean words on the board. Meh. That’s the reaction I got. Then…in the other 3 classes….I put my hair into a samurai ponytail, wrote the words on the board, and spoke the words like the best Sho Kosugi ninja I know how to be. The first reaction. “Arayo!!!” Along with some roaring laughter. “I understand!!!”
Rewind two months. In St Petersburg, trying to tell the bus conductor where I want to go, but I can’t get the words out. Part of that is the linguistic interference mentioned above. The other part is the reticence I felt to take a risk, to step out of the box and put forth my best, boldest Russian with my best ‘komrade’ accent. Why couldn’t do it? Residuals. In my most recent past relationship, my other half really got cheesed off when I would do the samurai, or the komrade, or the Mein Kommandante. OK, the latter may not have been to culturally sensitive, but it helps me speak better German. When I speak French, I do my very best to sound Parisian (I fail), when I speak Spanish, I try to sound Madrilleňo. Did you know that The Edge for U2 is actually from Wales? I didn’t think so. To fit in, he changed his accent when he moved to Dublin. For more on this, what The Departed when Mark Walhberg’s character dissects Dicaprio’s.

There I was, on this bus, and I could spit out the words. My affect learning had seized. I stopped having fun learning and speaking all because for so long, I was more or less forbidden to do what I did best – imitate. OK, maybe I am not a good imitator, but I sure love doing impressions… I’ve had Scots say, “Why do you wear a kilt? You’re not Scottish.” Well, actually, I am. Maybe only a small part (1/8), but it counts. Why should I be forbidden from celebrating a key part of my heritage because I wasn’t born in Scotland? Am I any less a Scot (or Irish for that matter) than someone born there? Am I American? No, but I know a heck of a lot more about the US than most Americans. Why is that? I am not American….What does it all matter? To quote a line from U2, “It’s not where you were born, but where you belong.” That’s what counts, and you can’t put that in a box, or deny that identity.

Language is about how you feel, whether you are a banana, coconut, oreo, or whatever you are called to make you feel bad about the way you act toward a language or culture. How well you feel is your affect and let yours be what you want it to be. And enjoy a piece of my humble layered-language pie.
Пака!

Pecha Kucha

This is my first foray into the world of Pecha Kucha, from the 2011 KOTESOL National Conference, held in Daejeon. For those of you who don't know, Pecha Kucha is a kind of antithesis to boring Power Point presentations. PPTs have really just replaced OHPs and the Pecha Kucha is a way to spice things up. Invented in Japan by some engineers, it's 20 slides, 20 seconds each, for a total of 6 minutes, 40 seconds - keeping presentations, brief, concise, and maintaining audience interest high.

I chose to speak about the History of the English Language. If the 6:40 weren't constraining enough, I decided to do it in verse. I felt rather constrained by PPT itself, so just to make it more of a challenge, I decided to use Prezi instead. It too had its limits, specifically when animating a given "transition" in prezi. Anyway, below is the verse,
and the link to my prezi is here. Go into the slide presentation, using edit (icon on right side), then at the bottom right, then click SHOW at the top left, then HOLD CLICK the right arrow, select 20 second interval, and voilà ! You have Pecha Kucha mode. At this point, you will have printed this blog page, and will be reading along with my poem in front of you, no doubt ;P Enjoy...

History of the English Language

You say tomato and I say tomato
A difference in pronunciation

That has often distinguished friend from foe;
George Bernard Shaw once said that England and America

Are 2 countries separated by a common language.
But it wasn’t always so.

***********1***********

Permit a fool to tell a tale of
Happiness, triumph, resilience and sorrow,

For today I stand before you
To unravel the mystery of our language’s history.

440 AD, in England!
Was the place to be!

***********2***********
T’was whence our story began
(Though Britain has been around since the dawn of man).

We begin with the Foederati
A group of Germanic goons, often mercenary
Who one should NEVER invite to a garden party.

You see, like many a tribal chief,
The Roman Governor needed help with the neighboring thief.
So he hired the Foederati for some relief.
***********3***********

Then the governor stopped paying, which they considered a slight.
In droves, they came by boat day and night.
Angles, Jutes, Frisians, Franks, and Saxons alike

They purged the Picts and Celts and everyone else from this strange rock;
With the natives gone, all but 12 words were forgot.
***********4***********

The first writing in Old English was made
Beowulf- you may have heard of it-
A tale of 3 monsters versus our hero on a tirade.

Well the Danes kept coming, season after season
A treaty was sought, a yearning for peace its reason.

This great compromise the king oversaw
Thus the name Alfred the GREAT- for creating the Danelaw.
***********5***********

Over those years of Danish invading and pummeling
Early English endured, thanks to the King

By way of an oracle through writing
Called The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle

During those interceding days then
How was it that Rap- a Norse Chap
Communicated with Edith - a Sexy Saxon Vixen
His newly betrothen?
***********6***********




With Norse words like Hroset
Being similar to Old English’s the HOORSE –
Can you guess what they were talking about? A horse of course!,

Simple compromises in grammar
Helped avert marriages ending in disaster.

With such simplifications for plurals given,
We have books and horses
Not baetch and hrosen.
***********7***********

If you remember nothing else from this
Pecha Kucha, let it be this: the year 1066

Between England and Normandy
A dynastic spat for the throne
A battle between blood, paid for in bone

William of Normandy a victory he did obtain
In Hastings, Killing King Harold
With an arrow through the eye, into his brain
***********8***********

These ‘invaders’ ruled England
For what amounts to a century times four

Now, contrary to what you may have heard
Our language was NOT starved or made poor

In fact it blossomed and thrived
English was the language of the people
In spite of what was spoken at the steeple.
***********9***********

As much as one may resent the French
It is they we must thank

For it was their language
That filled our lexical tank

Beef for cow
Mutton for sheep
Tailor, barber, oh the list goes on

Like pork for pig,
Ironically though,
the French now say cauchon
(heun heun heun heun)

We added layers of meaning
Like hatchet for small ax
And demand for a strong form of ask
***********10***********

Eventually though English did prevail
In part because the Norman kingdom was frail
With all the crusades and foreign wars
King John’s world apart it tore

Though most may remember him
From the story of Robin Hood
As Richard the Lionheart’s evil brotha
It was John who give us the Magna Carta
***********11***********





By now English literature was starting to prosper
Thanks in no small part to a man named Geoffrey Chaucer

Many languages could Chaucer read, write and speak
Latin, German, English French and even Greek
But in English he chose to write
In the language of the commoner
He wrote about love and not out of spite
***********12***********

Whan that Aprille with its shores soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich liquor
Of which vertu engendred is the floor
***********13***********

Boy didn’t that sound pretty sweet, but strange?
That’s because just after Chaucer
Our vowel began a big change

We call in the Great Vowel Shift
Nobody knows why it happened
But my guess is to avoid the plague
Many people had to wander and drift.
***********14***********

If the GVS weren’t exciting enough
William Caxton with England’s first printing press
Had it pretty rough
Finding consistent spelling was pretty tough

So the printers in London came up with a plan
They standardized spelling
To make things easier on the ink man.
***********15***********
It wasn’t the scholars of Oxford or Cambridge
In their ivory tower
That controlled the way words were spelled
Oh No! It was the printers in London
Now, with all the power.

Even with spelling quirks solved
And vowel changes made
There was more in store
For the English language, I’m afraid.
If there is one man you loathe
When it comes to English
***********16***********

It ought to be Robert Lowth
It was his idea
That we never end a sentence in a preposition
Now what would I do that for?

The thought of his book,
A Short Introduction to English Grammar
Still makes me st sta stammer!
***********17***********

Enough of the past
Who cares about the bard,
What about this century?

Well our language is still changing,
Just ask Hillary
For there is no one more famous for switching vowels
Than she
***********18***********



Madame Secretary,
Knowing what you know about Bill Clinton
Would you have relations with that man?
(We need to analyse the risk)

Please, answer the question- yes or no
Would you have sexual relations with that man?
(certainly not)
***********19***********

If you’re still wondering
Why is it goose and geese?
This presention is only 400 seconds long
So cut me a break please

Really though,
The word goose was introduced
After all the changes were made
So the rules are pretty fast and loose
For artistic license reasons
Some tiny details did I bend
But if you truly enjoyed my Pecha Kucha
Please, tell a friend.

Stranger in a StrangEngland

"English professor in Korea, ya? You're in the wrong country, mate." This was the the reaction of the Immigration and Customs officer at Heathrow to my E-2 visa in Korea. How ominous a remark that would prove to be, and so soon after my arrival. Thus far, I have to say his words have set the tone of my stay here for the IATEFL conference, thus far...

I have toyed with the idea of doing either my Master's thesis or a PhD dissertation about accent neutralisation in call centres in India. It has always been an interest in my to examine pronunciation and how we view non-native speakers' accents. Keeping in mind that us NESs make up less than a third of English speakers worldwide, it is a small wonder that we struggle to find identity not just among ourselves (native speakers) but among the L2 crew alike.

Richard Cauldwell gave a really good presentation today, titled "Accent and identity: prejudice and insecurity." He talked about the different English accents, and in particular "prestige" accents. He illustrated the view of accents as though they were teams in a football league, and illustrated where they would be in a league table (In a ironic twist, Manchester wasn't even in UEFA Champions League qualification, as the accent relates to prestige). His main conclusion is that Received Pronunciation should be used as a reference only, and not as a measure of professional expertise. I can't help but agree. The question still arises, "Do we suppress our less regarded accent for one of a higher prestige in a conscious manner, or do we change accents just as the animal instinct to mimic other members of our group makes us emulate our peers [ie:vowel shifts]? I spoke about this in my last blog (so long ago), particularly my feelings about my parents' language identities. Certainly, this topic of identity plays into how I want to research accent neutralisation in Indian call centres.

When I landed in Heathrow, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that I was once again in a land where I would understand the locals and they could understand me. I couldn't have been more incorrect in my assertion. I know that a) I tend to speak fast and mumble as i) a Canadian and ii) as Julien, and that b) I don't speak British English. However, being asked not occasionally, but on EVERY occasion to repeat myself is a little disconcerting. This could because of my eerily frequent encounters with Russian immigrants in England (heightened sensitivity due to my upcoming layover an the one I just had?). Unfortunately, several encounters were with the local English. I met an American woman from Colorado here at the conference, and she has NO problems understanding me. The fact remains that I am left with some all-too grim ponderings:
1) How do my own students perceive my utterings?
2) Do they understand British English speakers better?
3) Will I ever find the 'perfect' English accent?
4) Are Brits really that messed up when it comes to their own English? (I tend not to think this, given my ancestry and high regard for several of the British-English accents)

Likely this all boils down to expectation. At least in Korea I don't expect people to understand me, but England, the birthplace of my mother, should have some philial link to what I say. Then again, England is a far different place than when my mother left it a half century ago...

Motley's cruise

[Enter Post Title Here]


So I find myself pondering life in Korea, as I ride the KTX on its 450+ km journey to Seoul. One thing I am thankful for is cheap transport! I think this same distance ride in Europe would be in excess of 150 Euros, and in Japan, easily 20,000 Yen!

I think about how I have spent 5+ years of my life living as an expat, from The Caymans, to Spain; India to Korea. The fortunate circumstance I find myself in is the opportunity to share my language not just with foreign language learners (let's call them L2), but with native-English speakers. A recent conversation I had with a young lady (expat) and her love for accents and dialects got me thinking about it anew, and particularly my experiences. Short of doing an auto-bio, it would be difficult to constrain my commentary to a mere blog post, but I shall endeavour...

My love for languages definitely stems from immigrant parents, and in particular, my mother. When we were young, just entering school, she wanted to put us in a Mandarin school. She recognised 35 years + ago that Chinese was going to be a major player on the world's stage, and particularly its language. However, in Vancouver during the late 70's, there was not the demand to open Mandarin-speaking schools. Still, today there is only 1 Mandarin school in the VSB inventory, yet Asians make up 51% of the population in the GVRD. So our mother, the true visionary that she was/is, registered us in what is still the prevailing second language immersion in BC - French.

My mother, who used to spend her wilder, more carefree days visiting the Russian merchant ships with a friend of hers, playing poker, learning the most guttural of Russian dialects, pounding back the potato mash, went with the noblest of intentions: to learn Russian from 'true' Russians. On the other hand, her friend, already a polyglot who speaks over 17 languages fluently, likely had different thoughts with the sailors. My mother imbued in us the idea that to learn, "please, thank you, hello, good-bye" in the local language would ingratiate you to its people. On some level, I still believe this (grumpy old ajummas aside)axiom.

I spent a large portion of my youth, however, resenting the way my mother spoke English. Sober and sentient, she spoke English like everyone else I knew. However, get some of that strange substance into her that contained orange juice and some clear liquid from a tall bottle she called 'booze' - a mix I heard referred to as a 'screwdriver' - and she would start to talk all silly like. So by the age of about 4, I knew that 'booze' made Mom stupid and funny sounding. I resented her for it. I thought that she became somebody that she was not, and I disliked that.

Then I met Amanda. She was my coffee girl. I met her at the Second Cup, just off the UofA campus. She was spiking my lattes with skim milk, instead of the 1% I ordered. It is said that one forms a special bond with one's coffee girl, and that was certainly the case with her. Damn near/should have married her. We were together for 2 years, but eventually went our separate ways. Amanda had something different about the way she spoke English, and over several orders of lattes, the 20 seconds that I had to interact with her as she steamed my milk and poured my coffee before the next order, I learned that she was originally from South Africa. She had moved to Canada at about 13 years old. My mom moved to Canada when she was 12. Huh...Well, fast forward about a year, we are living together. We had a run in with a Canadian Airlines Rep who claimed that the fact the airline lost our luggage was our fault. Amanda lost it. Flipped. Snapped. And the way she spoke changed. I didn't recognise her, save by how she would get kind of high pitched when she was excited. It was like her doppelganger. Same woman, different accent. And it turned me on. Maybe that ended up being our downfall. As we started to fight more as the relationship went on, out would come her accent, and I couldn’t stay mad at her. I was distracted by that hot accent. Maybe I started pitching for fights just to hear that hot South African accent.

I am starting a new paragraph because I cannot bear to tell that story and then mention my mother in that same paragraph. So then, I understood how accents can fade, get suppressed, but can come out when one does not 'monitor' or filter. As a child, I child, I had a horrible speech impediment and could not say my rs. My father would bug me mercilessly, “Julien, say ‘Robert the Red Rabbit rode the rapid rocket.’” I sounded like a New Yorker. Such was my agony. Then I entered French Immersion, and that cured my r problem. I compensated with the velar r, used in French. Now and again, when I am really tired, or super drunk, you’ll hear me slip. Then again, most inebriates are incoherent, so I am able to remain mostly undetected by discerning ears.
One of my early English differences I recall is my boss in the Cayman Islands. He is a Brit. We also worked with some Americans, more Brits, and a few Aussies. Whenever thing would start to get stressful, he would pipe, "New DOOOT ABOOOOT IT!" This would get a rise out of all who worked there, all anglophones alike (including the local Caymanians). It would be lost on our French and Italian customers, likely because they had never seen the commercial.
More recently I think of my time in Korea, I am reminded of how Canadians have a distinct accent, and how almost every Canadian says, “aboot”, to some varying degree, whether they like it or not. My recent trip back to Canada supported this. While I thought BC was immune to Ontario’s influence, I was acutely way of the ‘aboot’ I heard ad nauseam on the radio. I also came to realize that the whole Bob and Doug McKenzie’s schtick was very true to form.
From a linguistic perspective, I can understand language change, particularly vowel shifts. The big one that is occurring right now in the US is the Northern Cities Vowel shift. Just listen to Hilary Clinton and you will get a sense for it. My friends from Wisconsin say, “WiscAHnsin”; I find myself emulating them. However when I talk to somebody about Ontario, I still say “Ontario”. My brother does the same when talking about Nooova Scoootia, or buying a “care at the market.” His navy days have deeply influenced his accent, but now, as he is further removed from Bluenosers, he really only talks like them when he is talking about them. To wit, just think of the Edge from U2; he is Welsh, don’t you know…

Next time you mingle with your friends, think about how you are interacting. Who is imitating whom? Chances are, you are all trying to sound like each other, on some level. That's where language change starts: where we try to find commonality by trying to fit in.

The Barbarism of Royalty and the role of social media

I was looking at a photo of the Royals the other day - the one where Philip farts, and poor Harry, behind Gramps, is left to deal with the brunt of it, as dignified as possible. Daddy, Gran and Auntie all seem unamused, but Harry loses it, while Philip has a knowing smirk on his face. That pic got me to thinking about the history of our Royals, and with my current research into the history of the English language, I came across some rather barbaric acts carried out by our fearless leaders of old. So the question I was left with was, when did they stop carrying out these acts, and to what can we attribute their terminations?

"In 1036, Ælfred Ætheling returned to England from exile in Normandy with his brother Edward the Confessor, with some show of arms. With his bodyguard," according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. "He intended to visit his mother, Emma, in Winchester, but he may have made this journey for reasons other than a family reunion. On the direction of Godwin (now apparently on the side of Harold Harefoot), Ælfred was captured and blinded by men loyal to Harefoot. He died soon after due to the severity of the wounds, his bodyguard similarly treated.

Acts like these were prevalent 1100 years ago. Likely, there was an extreme distrust is one's fellow man, and sadly, in one's own brother. I wonder then, why we stopped...We know that violent crime has been on a steady 200 year decline, but why doesn't Chuck have Mummy killed, or Beatrix arrange for Harry and William to have a training accident, all in aspirations to ascend to the throne? Surely, arranging such assassinations would be easier to carry out nowadays.

Today, word travels very fast. Just think of when Pope John Paul II died. Not only did we have CNN with one of its never ending 24/7 play-play coverages, but people there, had camera phones to send picture text messages, blogs, facebook, myspace, cell phones, which could send out messages instantaneously the moment the flume of white smoke snaked from the stack in St Paul's. 150 years ago, before telgrams, the message basically had to wait for horseback, or an emissary by sea to relay the message.

Even more recently, I think of the uprisings in Iran last year, and how, not surprisingly, CNN got caught with their pants down. Christiana Amanpour had been in Tehran covering the elections, decided the story was over since the fix was in, and left that weekend. Then the protests started. No CNN. How did the message get out? Youtube, Twitter, and facebook - social network. Now, forever the spinners, CNN has capitalised on social networking media so much, that they use the term more often than the word 'the'. Still, it is very difficult now with media and social networking - a dynamic duo - to get ANYTHING done under the shadow of free information. Of course, I speak not of backward repressing despots in countries with no technology, but even in the DPRK, there is technology creep.

With the advent of social media, it's virtually impossible to keep anything secret; if that's a bad thing, then maybe we should consider how easy it was to have somebody's eyes gouged out with a hot poker, and chalked up to "falling down this stairs onto a pile of dirty forks."

The History of the English Language Part I: Old English

It's been a while since I started this blog thing, but I have been nothing but wantonly negligent. Let's see if I can put a few thoughts down, shall we? This next one is a project I am working on - a 6min40sec presentation, its style called Pecha Kucha, wherein the presenter has 20 slides at 20 seconds each. A sort of antidote to Power Point, if you will.

This one is the beginning 2:20 or so of said project. I am working on presenting the history of the English Language - and I am going to do it poetic verse. So, without further ado, Part I: Old English...

You say tomato and I say tomato,
A difference in pronunciation

That has often distinguished friend from foe;
George Bernard Shaw once said that England and America

Are 2 countries separated by a common language.
But it wasn’t always so.

Permit a fool to tell a tale of
Happiness, triumph, resilience and sorrow,

For today I stand before you
To recount the mystery of our language’s history.


480 AD, in England!
Was the place to be!

T’was whence our story began
(Though Britain has been around since the dawn of man).

We begin with the Foederati
A group of Germanic goons, often mercenary
Who one should NEVER invite to a garden party.

You see, like many a tribal chief,
The Roman Governor needed help with the neighboring thief.
So he hired the Foederati for some relief.

Then the governor stopped paying, which they considered a slight.
In droves, they came by boat day and night.
Angles, Jutes, Frisians, Franks, and Saxons alike

They purged the Picts and Celts and everyone else from this strange rock;
With the natives gone, all but 12 words were forgot.
Though barbaric the invasion and occupation, fade it would that shock.

Our first writing in Old English was made
Beowulf- you may have heard of it-
A tale of 3 monsters versus our hero on a tirade.

Well the Danes kept coming, season after season
A treaty was sought, a yearning for peace its reason.

This great compromise the king foresaw.
Thus the name Alfred the GREAT- for creating the Danelaw.