A semi-regular feature in which I answer student questions.
Today’s question comes from, well, every student I’ve ever taught. Pretty much without exception. “Teacher,” so it goes — unless they call me by my first name, which is perfectly acceptable and, usually, preferable — “I feel like I’m not making progress. How can I improve?”
This is commonly called “plateauing.” By way of background and proof I paid attention in geography class, a plateau is a kind of geographical feature. Which kind? It’s like a tall plain. (Think of what would be left if you chopped off the top of a mountain with some sort of large mountain-chopping off tool.) To hit a plateau or be plateauing means you’re working hard but you feel stagnant and unmoving, like a car spinning its wheels and not getting traction.
Before delving deeper, I’d like to point out something. Given the frequency with which I encounter said question, there are two scenarios:
1. I attract the only students in the entire world who question their abilities and progress despite their efforts. While possible, my general lack of self-confidence and self-assuredness should’ve kept such self-flagellators well away from me, unless their self-directed misanthropy eclipses my own — in which case they should seek professional help, even though I know they won’t because I haven’t and apparently they’re even more neurotic than me.
2. Everybody feels this way.
The latter seems more likely.
In truth, I ask myself the same question all the time. The only reason I don’t pose it to my teachers is because I lack the chutzpah and usually use my lesson time to describe obscure music videos from the 1980s.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: There’s no easy answer. There’s no silver bullet. You’ve gotta stay the course. The way out is through. It’s down to blood, sweat, and tears. [Insert another platitude here.] Keep doing the work. It’ll change with time. Weather the storm. All that jazz.
No one wants to hear that, though, and I’m sorry for making you read all of those. Let’s pretend something else will work.
I recommend setting clear, measurable goals. Feel free to add “reasonable” and “realistic” if you’re inclined that way.
One approach is to record yourself speaking and periodically review the tapes to track your progress. This won’t happen because it’s too much work and excruciatingly painful to watch yourself fumble. (Trust me, I’ve tried.) Still, the notion of doing it will give you something to put off and avoid. Schedule several recording sessions a week and watch how much spare time piles up as you do something—anything—to avoid recording these videos.
Another widespread idea advocated by well-meaning people you’ll come to hate is dedicating a daily block of time to studying every morning before you start your day. Just get up early. Ha, ha, ha! You’ve just discovered a new way to add some “snooze button” time into your life. This will open a whole new world of sleep.
Here’s another one: steal time! Five minutes here and there really add up. Spend a little extra time in the bathroom thumbing through a flashcard app. Make a significant other or child late for something by handwriting vocabulary in a journal. Text fun-at-first, creepy-at-last strangers on language sharing apps and question your life choices. These five-minute blocks really add up. Plus they make you look industrious.
When all else fails, try banging your head against the wall. Maybe getting rid of some of those native language brain cells will free up space for thinking in English. It couldn’t hurt, except that it would, which is just one of the reasons it’s a bad idea. The other is that the cost of plaster repair would cut into your budget for taking lessons with me, and I would hold that against you.
On second thought, maybe you’re better off just reading another language learning tricks listicle. There’s different strokes for different folks. You gotta roll with the punches.
In the words of someone pretending to be someone satirizing a different person:
Excuse me, I need a nap now.