Grading an LCTL Student                                                            Malathi Nidadavolu Kantha, a young woman from India, wife of a geography lecturer, Murthy, and a mother of a 3-year-old boy, landed a job as a Telugu teacher in a midwestern university. She was not looking for a job. The job fell into her lap, literally. A couple of decades ago, the U.S. government had realized the need for Americans to learn the languages of other countries, especially the countries in which they had vested interest. And India was one of those countries, and Telugu was one of those languages, which eventually had come to be known as Less Commonly Taught Languages. Telugu actually could be labeled as Even Less Commonly Taught Language. It did not make it to the top twenty among the Less Commonly Taught Languages. Anyway, the American government offered funding for the foreign language education. Numerous colleges and universties jumped on the bandwagon, scrambling for a native speaker who would be willing to put in his/her two-cents worth to promote an LCTL. In that period, Dr. John Hastings, Associate Professor of Religious studies in a midwestern university was asked to teach Telugu. John was in Andhra Pradesh in his childhood and had learned the script. His resume said so. The Chair suggested John teach elementary Telugu and John agreed. That was twenty years ago. Dr. John Hastings was up for tenure now. He told the Chair that he was writing a book, hard- pressed for time, and so, would prefer a teaching assistant share his responsibility of teaching Telugu. "Well, we don't have funds for a T.A. position. Maybe, a student can help you. Know anyone who knows the language?" the Chair asked him. Thus, it turned out to be John's job to find an assistant. The geography lecturer Dr. Murthy came to his mind. That afternoon he found Murthy in the faculty lounge sipping coffee. John said hi to Murthy, sat down next to him, waiting for the right moment to broach the subject, and the right moment came soon enough. "Didn't you say your wife has a master's degree? No job yet, as I recall," he said. Murthy was confused. He’d never said anything about his wife looking for a job.   "Yes, she has a master's degree in economics, and no, she is not working," Murthy said. "I've an idea. We're looking for an assistant to teach Telugu," John said, looking sideways. "My wife never taught Telugu. She used to work in customer service for a bank in my hometown." "Well, she is a native speaker. I'm sure she knows the alphabet, doesn’t she? Knows how to read and write, right?" John said. "Let me talk to her," Murthy said, still unclear where this was going. "Think about it, don't take too long though. The Chair's pushing to outsource the position," he added with a smile, "The pay isn't much, but more than what she was making as a bank rep, I suppose."   Murthy was hurt by the last remark but kept quiet. John reminded him one more time to get back to him soon and left. * Kantha threw in dirty clothes in the washer, turned it on, and returned to the family room. She was reading a Telugu novel when Murthy walked in. She folded the corner of the page she had just finished and got up to bring coffee for her husband. "Where's Kittu?" Murthy asked, rolling his eyes around.     "Janet was going to the park with her kid. She took Kittu also with her." Murthy looked at Kantha, sipping coffee. He was a bit hesitant to open the subject. "What?" she asked. Instinctively she knew he wanted to say something. "Nothing," he said quickly. After a few seconds, he added slowly, "You remember John? We met him and his wife at the Christmas party last year." "Yes. Why?" "Well, he says they're looking for an assistant to teach Telugu." "So?" "He says you can have the job if you want." He stressed the last part. Kantha was surprised. "You know I am not looking for a job. Besides, I don't have a degree in Telugu literature. You know that too," she said, staring at her husband. "I'm not saying you've to take it. He suggested it, I didn't tell him you’re looking for a job. I'm simply conveying the message. Don't shoot the messenger." He smiled. Kantha laughed. "Think about it. It's not like you've to be there 8 to 5 pouring over a pile of files. You go to the class, teach and go home. You may have to have some office hours but you don't have to be there for preparation. You can prepare at home and the preparation time counts too. Plus, that may serve as a break from your housework." Kantha did not say it alound, he wants me to take this job? Murthy added almost like an afterthought, "It may not be much but the money is still money. It's more than what you used to make as a bank rep." That was a slap in the face. She rejoined quickly, "How could you …?" Before she finished the sentence, Murthy cut in. He knew he misspoke. "I didn’t mean it that way. I was simply stating what John had said," he said quickly. "Still you know, with the money I was making as a bank rep, I could afford a maid, a dobi, and save a little for the rainy days too." The debate continued for another hour or so. In the end however Kantha agreed to give it a try. Thus, Kantha had entered the job force. * Kantha started teaching Telugu, and found soon enough that it was anything but a breeze, it was more like a three-ring circus or a dog walking on his hind legs. The entire education set up and the attitude of the students were so different from what she had grown up with. She received her first lesson in the first week itself. The class consisted of three students - two of Indian origin and one American. Anita,one of the two Indian students, was born in the U.S. and picked up a few Telugu phrases from her grandma, who visited them every other year. The second student, Phon, was originally from India. He was adopted by Mary Hawk, when he was eight-years old. Mary was vacationing in India and had met Phon at the hotel where she had stayed. Back then he was known as Premkumar. He was not an employee of the hotel but hung around, offering help to the hotel customers. One day he offered Mary to show her the temple. Something struck a chord in her, and a year and half later, and after overcoming several bureaucratic hurdles, Mary succeeded in bringing him to the States. Phon had a hard time adjusting to the new culture and the new environment. The third student, a nonheritage student, Julie came from Chicago. She said she had several Telugu friends. "Does that mean you know some Telugu?" Kantha asked. "Oh, no. I never heard them speak Telugu. In fact, they all speak very good English," Julie replied with a wry smile. Nevertheless, she seemed to be the only student who was aware of the process of learning a foreign language. She stayed on course dutifully. In all, all the three needed to learn the structure of the language. But the heritage speakers could pick up the skills faster, understandably. * Kantha started with the alphabet and pronunciation. Gave them a few words and told them to copy down until they got them on their fingertips, literally; that was their homework. She insisted on the importance of memorization in learning the language. "It is like swimming. When you are thrown into a lake, you don't have the time to check the handbook. You will just flap your arms and legs and get to the shore anyway you can. If you want to have a good conversation with a native speaker, you don't walk around with a couple of dictionaries and keep checking each time you need to say a word. The words must be on the tip of your tongue, I mean literally." Anita disagreed. "No, Kantha, memorization is dated. In fact, that is the reason, all these Asian countries are lagging behind. They still believe in the dated tradition of learning by rote; they hang on to a handful of tumbledown textbooks they've had for centuries. You know what is our strength here in America? Our strength lies in identifying the sources and putting them to work. That's what managing intelligence is about; using the brains," she said, touching her temples with her index finger. Kantha was stunned at the way Anita uttered our. Kantha grew up with a different set of values and traditions. In her country, they never called the teacher by name, nor told the teacher what should be taught, much less how it should be taught. In her tradition, the teachers possessed the knowledge; the rule in the class was to listen, do the assigned work and ask the questions later, much much later. Kantha took a few seconds to respond. She said, "You're right about learning in general. But then, there are also skills which require mastering them to use effectively. And language learning is one of them." Anita was not convinced. "I don't care. I'll make enough money to have a resident translator wait on me hand and foot, if need be. All I need is a C and I am done with this second language requirement." * It became a tug of war ever since Anita told Kantha that a C was enough for her. "Did you do the homework?" "Yeah!" she would hand in the paper. "I said ten sentences. You wrote only two." "No time. I have social life, you know." * “Where is your homework?” “Sorry, I had to take care of my friend’s dog.” “What happened?” “She was sick. I took her to the vet.”        “Why didn’t your friend take her to the vet himself?” “He had Chemistry class.” Kantha wondered if her next line would be dog ate my homework. * "Did you write the past tense forms?" "I will, tomorrow." * "This is not what I asked. I asked you to write a few sentences using the vocabulary given in the class yesterday." "I couldn't think of any. So, I thought if I threw a curve ..." And then, came another twist. "I will be the only student next semester. There is plenty of time to get this stuff," she said, watching Phon through the corner of her eye. Phon snickered. It started to look like they two were having a private session of their own in the class. "I am paying," Anita said on another occasion. It is like she was out-Americaning Americans! Kantha was annoyed as she understood what those three words meant. Anita could choose not to register, and then there would be no class, meaning no job for Kantha. She collected herself and remained calm for the moment but her patience was wearing off. She tried to explain that Anita must learn the basics; understanding the structure is the first step. On another occasion, she had one of her Indian friends write the story for her and showed it to Kantha as her own. Once again Kantha explained to her that it was plagiarism and unacceptable. Anita could get an F, it was reported.    * Kantha told Murthy about Anita's attitude in class. Murthy dismissed it lightly at first. Kantha was persistent, she was committed to getting results. And results was not the thing Anita had in mind. Well, maybe she did but not on the same lines as Kantha. Finally, Murthy said, "You are the teacher. Tell her she must stick to the course content." Kantha struggled to explain to him that she tried and it was not working, and that Anita's attitude was getting out of hand. Then, one more revelation. "Look, Kantha, you must understand that you are in America. Things are different here, the system is different. You can't act like you were teaching a class back home in our village. The reality is Anita just needs to get through the second language requirement. I know she will not behave same way in her biology class or math class. The students set their priorities. Don't take it personally." * It was time for the mid-term exam. Kantha told them the test would be on the two lessons covered during that week. The quiz included ten questions. As always, Anita had to say something. She wanted to make it open book. "All right," Kantha consented. All the three students opened their books. Anita opened the wrong lesson, apparently she was not listening when Kantha made the announcement. Kantha walked up to her and pointed to the correct lessons. * At night, after dinner, Kantha sat down with the tests. Clearly Anita was hellbent on getting a C. She was so careless in her performance. She wrote the English equivalents even for the Telugu words, which she could have easily copied from the question. Probably, she was making a point, or, may be, copying was not her strong suit. Either way Kantha was not pleased. * For Phon, it had been always a struggle ever since he had arrived in this country. He had no friends in school to talk to; nobody spoke the only language he had known all this life. The other children were teasing him for his accent, for the way he ate and the clothes he wore, which were made in Taiwan and bought from a local Wal-Mart store. "Did your dad make them?" children would tease him. "I am not from Taiwan," he would say, steaming inside.   He could not take it anymore, and ran away from home. Luckily, Mary found him sleeping on a park bench, a few miles away and brought him back. Thenceforth, she worked harder to make him feel at home. Taught him a few things about survival in this country - he must stand up for himself, must not let others step on his toes, he is as smart as the next, must never think less of himself, never let others think less of him, success means beating others at their own game and getting ahead. His little brain processed the advice in his own uncouth way and he formed his own attitude. Eventually, he had grown into a sneaky little brat without ever being caught in the act. His slight build, baby face and his mischief-mongering eyes had been helpful in he wiggling out of any sticky situation. * Kantha noticed that Phon possessed average vocabulary, his oral skills were above average but his writing and reading skills needed lot of work, and he was not inclined to put in that. On the other hand, he resorted to other sneaky means. "You are beautiful," he said one day. The next day he brought cookies, and flowers on the following day. Yet another day, he asked her, “Will you go to the movies with me?” Then he said he wished that she taught all his Telugu classes. It was awkward for Kantha, and becoming increasingly so as the days passed by. And then came another surprise. That night, Murthy came home late. Kantha’s done cooking and waiting for him. He looked slightly distraught. "Something wrong?" she asked him casually. "No, nothing wrong," he said, but his tone said otherwise. "What’s wrong?" she asked him again. "Nothing. Don't worry," he said, and after a few seconds, added, "Students say things sometimes out of frustration." "What students? What're you talking about?" "I'm telling you, nothing wrong. Sometimes students take out their frustration on teachers. I see it all the time." "Will you stop tap-dancing and tell me who said what?" "Did you make any denigrating comments about John's teaching in class?" Murthy asked her straight. "What?" Kantha was shocked, "Who said that? Of course not, I did no such thing. Why would I say anything about any teacher for that matter? Who said that, anyway?" "Apparently, somebody told him that you have said something belittling about his teaching." "Like what?" "Like who taught you this gibberish or something like that ... I don't know. John didn't give me any details, just said it’s inappropriate to comment on other teachers in front of students." "That is a big lie." "That's okay. Just don't refer to other teachers in class." "I did no such thing most certainly," Kantha said, stressing each word clearly. She was perplexed. Whoever could have spread such lies and why? Kantha wondered if it was Anita but she knew there is nothing she could do about it. * From Phon's perspective, learning Telugu was a totally different story. With this Telugu class, he was reminded of his childhood days. Phon never spoke two sentences without referring to mothers and sisters. That is what he had picked up on Vijayawada streets. Now this lady was teaching him the language of the polite society, which was very frustrating to him. So called standard Telugu or colloquial Telugu Kantha was pushing down his throat was just trash for all he cared. In his mind, he already knew to speak the language. "That's all what matters," he said to Kantha. "So, why are you taking this class?" Kantha asked patiently. Phon shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. Thought it would be fun, maybe." The truth is it was not his idea. Mary wanted him to study Telugu; she wanted him to keep in touch with his roots. Kantha did not venture the next question. As for the homework, the two phrases - teleedu (I don't know) or raayaledu (I didn't write) became his favorite responses. Kantha found another way to make them do their homework. Make work right there in class. Phon sat in his chair laying back, chewing gum and with his legs stretched out. After a few minutes, she asked him if he had finished the exercise. "raayaledu," he replied in Telugu. "Why?" "teleedu" "What is it you did not know?" "Meanings for these words here," he pointed out. Kantha walked up to him, and put her index finger on the list of the new words noted at the end of  the exercise. "Oh," Phon stared at the page for a few seconds and said "What about this?" pointing to a word that was not on the list. Kantha said that it was given the previous week. "You could have looked it up in the dictionary," she added. Recently, Phon was spending his time in the class either jotting down notes or referring to the dictionaries he had borrowed from the library. Kantha was not sure if he was taking notes. One day she asked him a question and found out that he could not explain his own notes. Kantha tried to tell him that he was missing what was being taught in the class while he was busy with his own private session as it were. "John told us to refer to the dictionary," Phon said. Kantha took a few seconds and said, "Yes, that is true. However, the purpose of this class is to equip you with the tools necessary to enable you to read the texts by yourself. You do need to understand the structure - separating a word and identifying the root form of a verb - to be able to refer to the dictionary. Therefore, it is important to pay attention to the explanations in class. That helps you to be able to use the dictionary at home." "Whatever," Phon mumbled. Kantha clinched her teeth without showing it.   * Kantha sat down to grade the final exam papers. There was one paper jumping at her - it was Phon's. First she put a check next to each mistake, and then, went back, and started writing down the correct answer - two to three mistakes per line! Unbelievable. Was Phon being idiotic on purpose? Wanted to show that he was  incharge? She knew he was better than that. If an outside examiner were to evaluate that paper, Phon would get a C for that performance. Kantha kept thinking: If I take his homework into consideration, he will get a BC; if I take his grammar and attitude into consideration, he gets a BC, but with his vocabulary and performance on a few occasions in class, he deserveds a B or even an AB ... Kantha shut her eyes and started weighing all the factors up for consideration - the student's attitude factor, his needs factor, her job factor, her husband's position factor, the professor's goodwill factor, the department's prestige factor, the bell curve factor, her income factor, and the last but not the least, the enrollment factor, ... Suddenly she was jolted into the present by her son's bubbly voice. "Mommy, see, A, B, ..." He was babbling gleefully for all the show of his expertise in scribbling the alphabet. Kantha jumped to her feet, screaming, "Oh, no, no," and snatched away the pencil from his tiny grip before he could scribble a C as well.   She stared at his scribbling, A and B, for a second. An impish smile spread on her lips. "Good job, my boy, you resolved it for me."                                               ***                 (May 2007)