Editorial: Why Taiwan Students' English Skills Are Embarrassingly Poor

The China Post, an English newspaper in Taiwan, has recently published an editorial with the title Why Taiwan students' English skills are embarrassingly poor. Given that the Chinese culture usually equals admitting weakness to losing face, the editor who penned the piece is embarrassingly blunt. Or maybe he is not so face-conscious only when hiding behind English. If he says it in Chinese, I bet he would be at least stuttered a bit, if not red-faced at the same time.

The potential reason for such blunder, according to the editor, is “the backward teaching methods used in the island's schools,” and that “students are required to memorize words and grammatical rules but are given few opportunities to practice using the language in real-life situations.”

“Backward” is the typical Chinese understatement. Memorization as the norm of learning practice goes all the way back to one of those dynasties thousands of years ago. It may go on for another a few thousands of years.

The editor doesn’t have much sympathy to those poor students. He does, however, feel the pain of the island’s central bank head, pointing out that “if the Taiwanese were better at English, the island would not have to import so many English learning materials, resulting in a considerable saving on foreign exchange.”

I wondered what “English learning materials” would drag down the island’s hard-to-earn foreign exchange considerably.

Could they be Hollywood movies?

Nah, unlikely. If they were, the students’ English skill would be so embarrassingly poor.

Merry Chritmas in Shanghai

Right around the Christmas a couple of years ago, I went to Shanghai on a business trip. In the hotel that I stayed, a giant Christmas tree—one of the highest I’d ever seen—stood in the center of the grand lobby, sprinkled with the lights and decorations in a perfect order, and the melody of Jingle Bell filled in the air cheerfully.

Just 20 something hours ago, I saw a nearly identical one at the airport’s concourse before my departure of the States. I pinched myself a few times just to make sure. It confirmed that the Boeing 767 I boarded had indeed landed in Pudong, Shanghai. Looking up of the tree at the lobby, I couldn’t tell the difference from the one I passed by at the airport in the U.S., except, maybe, that I’d seen the dollar signs were among the colorful decorations. It could just be my jet lag causing delusion.

My delusion soon turned to disorientation. During the week-long staying in the city dubbed by many as Oriental Paris, I’d seen more Christmas trees and lights in hotels, at department stores, and on streets than I did in the decade of living in the U.S. combined. That’s a shocker to me. I wondered since when the Jesus’s birthday was celebrated in China as it was like the birthday of the Party, with the red scene so prominent all over the places.

Only that the portrait of Chairman Mao was replaced by the cardboard of a beard old man, and that the slogan “Long Live the Party!” was replaced by “Merry Christmas!”. Many Chinese had never seen an image of Santa Clause before, but all had seen the portrait of Karl Marx, who also had a signature long beard. Some of them probably had thought it was Marx, who dressed like a clown—the red-color coat with the white rim, the cone shape hat with a red ball dangled on the side, and the stuffed bag thrown on the back.

When I checked out the hotel, the female clerk, dressed in a red coat and wearing a red hat, smiled at me and said in English: “Merry Christmas!”

Karl Marx was probably rolling over in grave and tearing his long beard.

If You Think You Can

Henry Ford, the pioneer in mass manufacturing of automobile in the early 20th century, had been known for being demanding of his engineers to take on unthinkable challenges. His motto was: whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you are right in both.

The first time I heard it, I thought it’s a brilliant insight—the Model T of the motivational wisdom. I instantly took it to the heart and applied to my life. Ever since, I’ve placed anything I wanted to achieve into either “I think I can” camp or “I think I can’t” one. As Ford said it, I’m right in both.

Given my modest talent and aversion of hard work, I’m not that surprised by what show up in my “I Can’t” camp: climb Mount Everest; play soccer in the World Cup; direct a tear-jerking movie; write a best-selling novel; and resist of overeating beef stew and lamb chop.

My modest talent and aversion of hard work, however, haven’t stopped me from thinking of many things that I can do. And I’ve actually done a few. As long as I don’t always aim for the moon, then lack of talent and being a bit slack aren’t always a deal breaker either. And that’s when the self-belief comes in and makes a crucial difference.

For instance, you can acquire a second language, with or without a talent or hard work, if you think you can. I knew it’s true from my experience of studying English. The self-belief at one time was the psychological breakthrough that I desperately needed. Once I’d passed that point, everything else started to make sense and fell into place.

Before you get to that point, however, you need to let passion keep you going and let patience carry you on.

Little Linguists

I am often amazed at those linguists who can speak multiple languages fluently. I believe inherently they possess some special talents . In talking to a teacher who teaches elementary school Spanish in US, I was led to believe there are many little linguists living among us.

In her experience, children who come from a family where a second language is spoken are quicker at learning a third language. Interesting observation, probably with no scientific research whatsoever to back it up, but somehow I am not surprised.

How do kids learn a second language anyways, or better yet, a third or fourth language?

Take the ABC (American Born Chinese) children for example. To them, learning a new language is the equivalent of playing it by ear. They do that every day. And they do it boldly and fearlessly.

These children are not born bilingual. In fact they speak Chinese almost exclusively in the very first couple of years of their lives, under the care of their Chinese-speaking family.

They have great anxiety on their first day to day care centers because they don't speak English. That doesn’t last long. Before the day is over, these kids can already follow the basic directions like “go potty”, “wash your hands” or “lunch time”.

Once these kids start Kindergarten and begin to read and write in English, their English takes leaps and bounds. Along the way, they also pick up Spanish with ease, or French, or any other second language that is taught in the school. And best of all, they still converse with their parents and grandparents in Chinese.

Because they learn by listening to others, they sometimes make blunt mistakes. A typical example I enjoy retelling my friends is the phrase “Qi Ma”, pronounced as Chi Ma. In Chinese it can have two distinct meanings: a) Ride a horse or b) At least. The two phrases are written differently but they sound exactly the same. Therefore when a Chinese boy was told he has to “Qi Ma” (at least) swim for 10 feet, he would wonder curiously and loudly why he has to ride a horse in the swimming pool!

We think it is cute and laugh at his mistake. And what is his response? He laughs it off too, without a second thought. He will never, ever, think about digging a hole on the ground and makes it a hideout, as I am sure the thought would cross the mind of some adult language learners if they made such a laughable mistake.

Therefore, despite these little mishaps, these children continue to thrive. They grow up to be at least bilingual if not multi-lingual.

This is one of the few reasons that I really want to be a child again.

The Hollywood Lessons (8)

Usually, I decide on whether to see a particular movie base on the story it tells; sometimes, on the actor it features; and rarely, on the director under whom it was made. In those rare occasions, Alfred Hitchcock and Woody Allen are in a short list.

As a non-native English speaker, I found the plots of Hichcock’s movies are complicated, but the dialogues are usually much easier to follow. He was master of letting the camera move the story, not the dialogues by the charming actors like Cary Grant or Grace Kelly. Charming actors simply aren’t talkative. Thus, watching Hickcock’s movies would give you a wild ride due to the suspense, but less likely to learn much of colorful English.

The Woody Allen’s movies, however, are almost exactly the opposite. Most of the time, it’s a love story, but not the high-class, romantic sort. So there is not much plot to begin with and less drama to play up. Then, almost every leading male role in his movies is played none other than by Allen himself. Let’s just say he’s not Cary Grant. And the usual leading female role, such as Diane Keaton or Mia Farrow, is no hot babe by the Hollywood standard.

Lucky for any English learner, Woody Allen’s masterful scenes for long monologue, self-analytical voice over, and loose and spontaneous quarrels between couples make the movie-going a perfect learning experience. Take two of his most famed movies, Annie Hall and Manhattan, as an example.

In each setting, Allen gets himself in a strange relationship with one unconventional type of a woman or another. He’s the one who’s usually insecure, sarcastic, and quarrelsome. So most of the time, he’s either talk back and forth with the woman—dialogues are often funny and witty, or think out aloud of his mind on the things ranging from religion to world politics.

Because he talks so fast and spontaneous, because his topics are so wide ranged, and because his style is often mockery or self-pity, it’s a great challenge for a non-native speaker to understand his movies. Or even if understanding his words literally, I would still have a hard time to appreciate his wit and ridicule. It takes some knowledge of psychology, world affairs, and ideology to grasp his seemingly random monologue.

For that, I usually judge the English proficiency level of a non-native speaker not by her degree or standard test score, but by whether she could follow Woody Allen’s movies with an ease and laugh with a spontaneity.