Out of Great Joy

You know the expression, “Smile, and the world smiles with you?” A better expression for this week in Cieszyn is, “Cough, and the world coughs with you.” Everyone’s sick. You walk down the halls at school and you hear coughing fits behind doors at every turn. My apartment building sounds like a hospital ward for people with upper respiratory infections. Thanks to the paper-thin walls, you can hear your neighbor two floors above you coughing. It’s oddly comforting to live in a building filled with illness. There’s a wonderful sense of solidarity. We’re all in this together.

Luckily I haven’t missed any school but my main extracurricular activity this week was lying on my couch (and coughing). (At school, there was the hilarious discovery that my students can’t understand me when I’m sick. With all the coughing my voice dropped about half an octave in pitch and all of a sudden my students were having a difficult time understanding my pronunciation. Kind of fascinating!)

During my couch-ridden evenings I’ve caught up a little on “popular culture.” A couple weeks ago I finally saw “The King’s Speech” (and thoroughly enjoyed it) and this week I’ve read a few fascinating articles about stuttering, learned more about King George VI, and watched a few interviews with the cast and crew of the film. And this post was inspired by something Colin Firth said in one of the interviews I watched.

Have you read Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time?” It’s a wonderful book and not, in my opinion, only for kids. “A Wrinkle in Time” is, in one sense, a beautiful reflection on the power of language and the intricacies, challenges, and joys of communication. There’s a character in the book named Mrs. Who and she speaks primarily in quotations because she “finds it difficult to work out words of her own” (28-29). Mrs. Who is always quoting – and sometimes I feel like Mrs. Who because I also like to quote, to borrow words and phrases first spoken by others. I love writing and talking but sometimes I can’t satisfactorily explain an experience, a feeling, or a thought in my own words. And for me, sometimes borrowing is helpful.

Today I’m borrowing from Colin Firth. I’ve often found it difficult to describe the experience of living in a country where you’re not fluent in the language. People are always asking me “how’s your Polish?” I think that question speaks to the importance of language in our lives and perhaps an unconscious understanding that language isn’t only practical (“I’d like five tomatoes, please”) but also (and I'd say more importantly) a form of personal expression, the way we tell the world who we are.

What’s most difficult, I’d argue, about learning a new language is not the grammar or the declensions or the pronunciation of 4 consonants in a row – it’s that you must first focus on acquiring “survival language” and survival language is practical, not emotional. You quickly learn the harsh reality that language as a form of personal expression is frequently out of your grasp as a beginner and even intermediate speaker.

Here’s what Colin Firth said in an interview with James Lipton. He’s comparing the experience of stuttering to the experience of speaking in a language you don’t know well:

“Anyone who’s tried to speak another language will find – if you’re limited in that language – that you end up saying what you can rather than what you really want to say. And you start to circumnavigate the real thing. So who then are you in relation to the world?”

What Colin Firth does in this quotation is link language with personal identity. Craig Storti, author of “The Art of Crossing Cultures,” also does this eloquently in his book when he writes: “Language is not simply how people speak; it is who they are” (101). He continues: “On a deeper level, if you can’t communicate your ideas and opinions to people, how can they know who you are? Language is the primary means of self-expression; when we don’t have language the self does not get expressed. When the self can no longer be expressed, does it still exist?”

There’s a conversation I had a few weeks ago that sometimes replays in my mind. It was a Friday and I’d left school only to remember that I’d forgotten my umbrella in the teachers’ room. Another teacher saw me return to get my umbrella and asked me if it was raining. I said, “No, it’s not raining now.” And then I stopped. I wanted to say, “Well, it’s not raining YET” and comment on the fact that whereas Chicago has two seasons (winter and construction), it often feels like Cieszyn has only one: the year-long rainy season. But it was Friday afternoon and my brain was a little tired and I couldn’t find the right vocabulary to express this playful thought (because nowadays I quite enjoy the rain). I could only say, “No, it’s not raining now. Have a good weekend,” and go on my way.

Perhaps Firth’s and Storti’s words help shed a little light on why I sometimes find myself thinking back on this 10-second “conversation.” The “umbrella incident" was, fundamentally, a successful exchange in Polish. Someone asked a question, I understood it, and I responded appropriately. But it’s also an example of a language interaction stripped of any emotional or personal quality. I could express the facts (“it’s not raining”) but I couldn’t express myself (my desire to playfully comment on Cieszyn’s rainy weather). And therefore, for me, the interaction was sterile and feels, to this day, unfinished. When I think back on this tiny 10-second conversation, it was my inability to say what I wanted that sticks with me.

The list of “things unsaid” at the end of a typical day here are sometimes numerous. Like Colin Firth wisely observed, I often find myself saying what I can rather than what I really want to say. It’s not that I have the vocabulary but I’m afraid to speak. One beautiful lesson I’ve learned from studying Polish is “not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” I’m a beginner trying to master a very complex grammar system and if I only opened my mouth when I felt confident every word was declined correctly, I’d never speak. But this willingness to make mistakes can’t solve the fact that I don’t have the extensive vocabulary I need to express my every thought or feeling. There also isn’t an easy “quick fix” solution. I continue to learn new words, new grammar points, and new expressions every week and I rejoice in every new acquisition, every new word I suddenly understand. Learning a new language requires time, patience, a sense of humor, diligence, and most importantly, self-compassion.

So, what’s it like to live in a country where you don’t speak the language? Sometimes it’s marvelous and exciting. I’m always learning and it’s wonderful how immediately I get to apply my new knowledge. I remember my first week in Poland when I only knew five words ("hello," "goodbye," "yes," "no," and "thank you") and it's amazing to realize how much I have learned since then. But sometimes I still wish I could say more than, “No, it’s not raining” when a colleague inquires about the weather.

You may or may not know that although I also studied TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) and music in college, my primary focus was actually psychology. Specifically, during my junior and senior years of college, my studies and research focused on educational psychology. Educational psychology is the study of how people learn, different learning environments, and how individual differences affect learning.

You also may or may not know that I’m an introvert. Do you know your Myers-Briggs personality type? I’m an INFJ. Because not everyone geeks out on psychology and personality articles, inventories, and books like me, I won’t bore you with a lengthy description of the 16 Myers-Briggs types or the specifics of the INFJ personality profile, except to say that INFJs are introverts. (Although if you’re interested in learning your own type, it’s easy to find great resources on the Internet.)

INFJs are unique in that they’re introverted people who are often mistaken for extraverts. I’m pretty certain that if you asked my students, they’d say I’m an extravert – I love teaching, I love my students, I love talking with them, and I’m very animated and enthusiastic when I teach. But although, like other INFJs, I’m outgoing, love people and enjoy a “people-oriented profession” like teaching, there’s no doubt in my mind that I am, in fact, an introvert.

What’s the primary difference between extraverts and introverts? It’s all about energy. Extraverts gain energy when interacting with other people and lose energy when alone. Introverts gain energy when alone and expend energy when interacting with other people (Costa & McCrae, 2003). Introverts and extraverts alike get “happiness boosts” when socializing, but introverts leave the party at 11 p.m. because they need time alone to recharge whereas extraverts stay until 3 a.m. because once they leave, they lose their “energy source” (i.e., other people). Neither orientation is correct, neither orientation is better. But because of this difference in how energy is gained/lost, introverts and extraverts often have different needs and respond differently to different situations. It’s also often difficult for extraverted people to understand introverted people, and vice versa. (What? You don’t love parties with 100 people? What? You don’t love spending time alone?)

It’s also important to clarify a few misconceptions about introverts:

1. Introverts are NOT anti-social. Anti-social personality disorder is separate from the extraversion/introversion construct. There are antisocial introverts and antisocial extraverts. Introversion ≠ antisocial.

2. Introverts are NOT shy. Shyness is also a separate construct. There are shy introverts and shy extraverts. Introversion ≠ shyness.

3. Introverts are NOT afraid of speaking to other people and are NOT afraid of public speaking. Again, this is confusing shyness with introversion/extraversion. I’m going to defer here to a quotation by author and journalist Malcolm Gladwell here: “[Public] speaking is not an act of extroversion. People think it is. It has nothing to do with extroversion. It’s a performance.” (Teaching is also a performance. And the kids will throw tomatoes if they don’t like the show. Kidding.)

4. Introversion is NOT a problem or disorder that needs correcting. First, it’s important to understand that the introversion/extraversion construct is very stable. If a person is extraverted at the age of 5, he’s also going to be extraverted at the age of 25, and at the age of 50. Therefore, in my opinion, we should teach people how to embrace their natural introversion/extraversion orientation, and we especially shouldn’t try to teach introverts how to be “more extraverted.” Neither introversion nor extraversion is a disorder that needs correcting.

Before you read on, here's a chance to evaluate how introverted or extraverted you are. Here’s a quick quiz, thanks to author Susan Cain’s blog “Quiet: The Power of Introverts.”

Answer “True” or “False” to the following questions:

1. I prefer one-on-one conversations to group activities.

2. I often prefer to express myself in writing.

3. I enjoy solitude.

4. I seem to care about wealth, fame, and status less than my peers.

5. I dislike small talk, but I enjoy talking in-depth about topics that matter to me.

6. People tell me that I’m a good listener.

7. I’m not a big risk-taker.

8. I enjoy work that allows me to “dive in” with few interruptions.

9. I like to celebrate birthdays on a small scale, with only one or two close friends or family members.

10. People describe me as “soft-spoken” or “mellow.”

11. I prefer not to show or discuss my work with others until it’s finished.

12. I dislike conflict.

13. I do my best work on my own.

14. I tend to think before I speak.

15. I feel drained after being out and about, even if I’ve enjoyed myself.

16. I often let calls go through to voice-mail.

17. If I had to choose, I’d prefer a weekend with absolutely nothing to do to one with too many things scheduled.

18. I don’t enjoy multi-tasking.

19. I can concentrate easily.

20. In classroom situations, I prefer lectures to seminars.

The more times you responded “True,” the more introverted you are.

My fascination with the introversion/extraversion construct started in college and culminated in my senior year study on whether a student’s personality (with a special focus on introversion/extraversion) affects his or her participation in college discussion classes. It wasn’t a radical idea that a student’s personality might affect his or her class participation, but no one had truly studied this idea by examining hard, raw data. For my study, I had the opportunity to analyze recordings and transcripts of college class discussions (4 Great Books sections, 4 professors, 62 students – 14-16 in every section, 4 recordings of every section, 20 hours of recordings total) and I also administered a set of surveys and questionnaires to the students, including a personality inventory. Thanks to the word-for-word transcriptions of the discussion, I knew, for example, exactly how many words a specific student spoke in a discussion, whether a student typically spoke in response to the professor or in response to a classmate, whether a student’s comment referred directly to the text – the information provided in a transcript is endless! Thanks to the personality inventory, I also had a unique personality profile for every student in the discussion.

Here are some of the results of my study in a nutshell: Extraversion is a significant predictor of a student’s participation in a discussion. The higher a student’s extraversion score (the more extraverted a student is), the higher his or her word count in a class discussion. The higher a student’s introversion score (the more introverted a student is), the lower his or her word count in a class discussion. And students are highly consistent in their word count from class to class – a hierarchy of participation is established early in the term, from the top participators to the students who participate very infrequently.

And what DOESN’T predict how frequently a student participates in class?

1. How well the student prepared for the discussion. (For example, whether or not they read the assigned text before coming to class.)

2. How well the student understands or enjoys the specific topic of discussion. (If you’re introverted, even if the discussion is about music and you’re the 1^st chair violinist in the university orchestra, it’s highly unlikely that you’ll participate any more than you did in the discussion about sports, for example.)

3. How much the student enjoys the class, the professor, and his or her classmates. (You might think that students who enjoy the class the most or have the best relationship with the professor participate the most. It’s not true.)

Personality is the best predictor of a student’s degree of participation in class.

Now that I teach speaking-focused English Conversation classes in Poland and the Czech Republic, I’m especially grateful for the time I spent studying class discussions in college. My research on how a student’s personality affects his or her speaking in lessons is wonderfully relevant to my teaching here in Poland and the Czech Republic. Here are the...

Top 10 Ways My Introversion Has Affected My Teaching:

(Quick note: It’s important for me to say here that I’m trying to create an “equal opportunity” classroom environment for both my introverted AND my extraverted students. I’m not trying to create a classroom that’s only ideal for introverted students – because then it’s not good for extraverts! Traditional classrooms, school environments, and teaching styles tend to favor extraverts. I’m only trying to create a classroom environment that better facilitates learning for extraverts AND introverts.)

1. My research in college showed that extraverted students participate significantly more than introverted students in discussions. But why? One explanation is that extraverts process and respond to new verbal information more quickly than introverts (Opt & Loffredo, 2003; Eysenck, 1996). When a teacher asks the class a question, extraverted students will process the question and respond to it quicker than introverted students. And what do teachers typically do? They ask a question and call on the 1^st student (no doubt, an extravert) to raise his or her hand. After 3 or 4 [extraverted] students have answered the question, the teacher asks a new question. And who processes the next question the quickest? The extraverts, again. The introverted students are never given the opportunity to participate. Teachers need to give introverted students extra time to process or they will only ever hear from their extraverted students. I like to wait 10-15 seconds after asking a question before calling on a student (and I never call on the same student two questions in a row). Is it different and a little weird at first to wait 15 seconds before calling on a student? Yes. (Try it. Ask someone a question and then make him or her wait 15 seconds before answering. Time it. It feels like an eternity.) But it levels the playing field. Introverted and extraverted students both have valuable, interesting, and insightful comments to add to the discussion. Incorporating a little “wait time” gives both introverts and extraverts the opportunity to participate. I also always ask, “Does anyone want to add anything before we move on to the next question?” before charging ahead. It’s frequently introverted students who have an insightful last comment to add before we move on to the next topic.

2. Oral participation in my lessons is not optional. I require all my students to participate. This doesn't scare them anymore because a) they expect it in my lessons and b) I always try to give them adequate time to think before asking them to speak. I only have 45 minutes a week with my students. If I let them decide whether or not they want to participate, vocal students will dominate the class and their speaking will drastically improve over the semester, and quiet students will not say a word and their speaking is not likely to improve at all. My goal is to provide a learning environment with speaking activities that give all students the opportunity to speak English and improve their skills. I don’t let one or two students dominate the class because it’s at the expense of the other 8-10 students’ language development. And on that note...

3. I am the teacher and I have important responsibilities during a class discussion. I always found it very frustrating when teachers refused to interfere and encourage other students to participate when a few students were dominating the discussion. (In my research, I found that typically 2-4 students utter 75% or more of the words spoken during a discussion in a class of 13-16 people. That’s crazy! 25% of the class is speaking 75% of the time. That’s not logical. And it’s the teacher’s responsibility to prevent this type of “discussion dominance.”) I keep a mental tally in my head (and sometimes even a tally on paper) of who is participating and who is not and how often each student is speaking. I do my best not to let a couple students dominate while the rest of the class sits in silence (and probably fuming that they can’t get a word in edgewise).

4. I’m a better teacher when I incorporate a little introvert “alone time” into my day because I need it to recharge. Mondays are my longest teaching day. But I have a wonderful 45-minute break from 12:20 – 13:05. I found an empty classroom at school and for those magical 45 minutes, I enjoy wonderful, blissful silence. Sometimes I read, sometimes I sit and happily stare off into space. But when my afternoon starts at 13:05, I’m recharged and excited to see my afternoon and evening students. Other teachers (extraverted teachers) go to the noisy teachers’ room to recharge, to chat with other teachers during their free period (remember, extraverts get energy from people). Me, I like a little quiet downtime. I also honor my need for recharge time after a full teaching week, especially on the weekends, where a cup of tea with a close friend or two or perhaps a quiet afternoon with a great book – not a Friday night party with 40 people – is the perfect way for me to recharge before the next week of teaching.

5. Introverts tend to prefer talking to people one-to-one whereas extraverts often have a “the-more-the-merrier” philosophy. I frequently encourage (and sometimes require) my students to meet with me one-on-one outside of our lessons to talk. I love having the opportunity to give my students individual attention and connect with them one-to-one. Introverts also dislike “chit-chat” and prefer in-depth conversations, and I’m grateful that students are willing to talk to me about topics that truly matter to them.

6. I think the greatest gift a teacher can give his or her students is to truly listen to them. If you ask an introvert and an extravert to have a conversation, you’ll find that the introvert will typically become the “listener” and that the extravert is typically the “talker.” I could happily sit and listen to my students talk for decades. I’m always excited to hear what they have to say and I think they’re very open with me because I’m a good listener. Naturally, as the teacher, I frequently need to take the role of “talker,” but I try to take the role of “listener” whenever I can and give my students the “talking” role. They’re the ones who need the speaking practice after all!

7. I frequently let students decide whether to work with a partner or alone. Extraverted students favor group work; introverted students prefer working alone. Sometimes they must all work with a partner, but there are times when they get to choose. Middle schools and high schools are designed for extraverts. Students are with people every minute of the [often very long] school day – in lessons, in the hallway, in gym, at lunch. Extraverts thrive, but introverts often find their energy depleted. Of course, it’s important that students learn how to work with other people, but they’re learning that almost every minute they’re in school and they’re frequently required to work in groups. I think it’s okay to let them work alone every once in a while. (Plus, when a student decides to work alone, he or she typically must work harder than a student working with other people. Who am I to say, “No, you can’t work alone and do all the work and learning yourself?”)

8. My introversion has also impacted how I organize the community lessons I teach in the evenings. I love teaching lessons with only 1, 2, or 3 students. A few of my lessons have 5 or 6 students, but whenever a class gets bigger than 6 students, I split it into two sections. I’d prefer to teach two sections than have classes with more students than my personal ideal. (And the truth is that I think one-on-one is often the best learning environment.)

9. My introversion is especially a blessing because of the specific job requirements at my school. I don’t have a curriculum to follow for any of my lessons and have to design them from scratch. This involves spending quite a few hours every week alone – planning, thinking, reflecting, researching, and writing. And I love it. My independence as an introvert is a blessing in this job. Lesson planning is energizing for me and I especially love Tuesday mornings when I have a few uninterrupted hours of alone time when I can plan my lessons.

10. And my newest (and perhaps favorite) tiny observation about my introverted and extraverted students: Our school is teeny-tiny and we have more students than ideal for a building that size. Because it’s a crowded building, passing periods between lessons are crazy – loud, people everywhere, traffic jams on the staircase – it’s a bit like a 3-ring circus (or maybe it would be more accurately described as a 12-ring circus). I avoid the halls during passing period like the plague and try to quickly race to my classroom. Quite a few students always join me in the classroom during the passing period. I had the realization today that, duh, the students who join me in the classroom to escape the 3-ring circus in the halls are the introverts! The extraverts are in the hall chatting loudly to 40 of their friends and the introverts are in my classroom enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. If students talk to me during the passing period before class, of course I’ll have a conversation with them, but most often the students sit quietly (and happily) at their desks and I quietly prepare for our lesson. And together – but in silence, of course – we enjoy every minute of the calm because we know it’s going to end all too soon. And yet we’re always happy to welcome the extraverted students back into our midst when the bell rings because we’d truly miss them if they were devoured by one of the lions in the 3-ring circus.