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Afterword: Dogme for Beginners – The Autonomy of the Group Scott Thornbury

In 2000 the Danish film-maker Lona Scherfig made a film called Italian for Beginners. Set in a small town in Denmark, the film tells the story of a mixed group of townsfolk who regularly meet together in a local com- munity centre to learn Italian. After the sudden loss of their teacher (he drops dead of a heart attack while correcting a pronunciation !), one of the group members volunteers to assume the role. In the absence of any textbook – or even a blackboard – he uses his marginally better Italian (motivated by an obsession with football) to elicit from the stu- dents what little they know in order to construct based on their common interests and needs. By the end of the movie, they have assembled enough Italian between them to venture to Venice – but, of course, the film is less about their learning than about their individual narratives, and how these converge and diverge in the context of these occasional classes. Nevertheless, in its credible portrayal of a self-directed and commu- nal language learning experience, the film offers a suggestive, albeit fic- titious, representation of learner autonomy. In an apparently intuitive way, it serves both to encapsulate and to dramatize a number of concepts that are inextricably linked to the notion of autonomy, and which have figured prominently in the chapters in this book. For a start, as men- tioned, it is self-initiated and self-directed: there is no person or insti- tution mandating autonomous learning; instead, it is motivated and managed by the learners themselves. (Admittedly, the initial impulse was accidental, but, then, perhaps part of being autonomous is respond- ing creatively to the unpredicted!) Taking charge of their own learning does not mean – in this instance – the dismantling of traditional class- room hierarchies: the teacher’s role is retained but is devolved on to one of the learners. (The viability of all learners assuming a peer-teaching

257 258 Afterword role, at some point, is the theme of Wharton’s chapter (Chapter 3) in this book.) But, even with the traditional roles intact, the jointly-constructed and democratic nature of the newly established class (including the quality that Kojima refers to, in his chapter, as positive interdependence) con- trasts with the somewhat teacher-fronted, transmission-mode teach- ing of the class’s previous teacher – judging by the short extracts we’re shown. The group – despite their diversity, both of learning styles and motivations – coalesces around a shared enterprise to form an emergent community of practice (Lave & Wenger, 1991). Rundle, in his chapter in this book, describes similar socializing processes, whereby learners are empowered “to co-construct contexts in which expertise emerges as a feature of the group” (Lantolf, 2000, p. 17). This expertise is manifested as successful performance, when the group of Italian learners travels to Venice. (In the same spirit, Fraser, this book, emphasizes the impor- tance of “performing” one’s autonomy.) The community of practice also has to accommodate difference, and the charm of the movie is the way that the narratives of each of the diverse characters intertwine, while potential conflicts are avoided or defused. Likewise, Ikeda, Saito & Ieda (in this book), acknowledge that, within a diverse group, autonomous learners will fashion their individ- ual learning trajectories in idiosyncratic ways. By the end, anxieties are (temporarily) parked, and – in the soft glow of a Venetian afternoon – a supportive self-assurance reigns. (Harada, in her chapter in this book, also attests to the importance of learners overcoming their anxieties and developing emotional maturity as a pre-condition for autonomy.) But Italian for Beginners is more than just an allegory of self-fulfilment through shared communal enterprise: for me it has a particular fascina- tion, being one of the first of the wave of films that conformed to the cinematic “vows of chastity” as promulgated by the Dogme 95 group of filmmakers, centered in Denmark, and led by Lars von Trier. Seeking to “rescue cinema” from the clutches of the Hollywood-dominated, big budget, and technologically extravagant film-making that then pre- dominated (and still does), they drew up a ten-point manifesto, and gave themselves the name Dogme 95. To earn the Dogme seal of approval, a film needed to be made in accordance with the manifesto, the first rule of which was that:

Shooting should be done on location. Props and sets must not be brought in (if a particular prop is necessary for the story, a location must be chosen where the prop is to be found) (Kelly, 2000, p. 227). Afterword 259

Films made according to Dogme 95 prescriptions (such as Scherfig’s Italian for Beginners) typically have a rough, gritty, even raw, quality and are certainly a far remove from the slick artifice and technical virtuosity of Hollywood. The Dogme 95 movement, albeit short-lived (it officially disbanded in 2005) had an important influence on contemporary film- making, not least in staking a claim for a degree of cinematographic autonomy. At around about the same time, as a teacher trainer, working mainly with in-service teachers, I was becoming increasingly concerned that an overreliance on classroom materials was compromising opportunities for real language use: this, despite the fact that the teachers themselves declared an allegiance to the principles of the communicative approach. The lack of any real communication in the classroom – it seemed to me – was directly attributable to the overabundance of materials and aids, which, in a sense, had colonized the classroom space. I was struck forcibly by a comment of Michael Swan’s, in an early critique of the communica- tive approach, in which he characterized course book communication as being of the type: “You are George – ask Mary what she does at Radio Rhubarb”, and where he added: “There are times when the same lan- guage practice can take place more interestingly and more directly if the students are simply asked to talk about themselves” (1990, p. 94). Hence, the Dogme 1995 philosophy offered me, as a teacher educator, a convenient and timely analogy: one that I believed might help redress an overdependence on materials, and restore real communication to classroom life. As I wrote at the time, “My belief is that it is high time Dogme-type principles were applied to the classroom” (2000, p. 2), and, in the spirit of the Dogme 95 manifesto, I suggested (somewhat face- tiously) that the first “vow” of Dogme ELT might be:

Teaching should be done using only the resources that teachers and students bring to the classroom – i.e. themselves – and whatever happens to be in the classroom. If a particular piece of material is necessary for the lesson, a location must be chosen where that mate- rial is to be found (e.g., library, resource centre, bar, students’ club ...) (Thornbury, 2001, p. 14).

Curiously, the classroom scenes in Italian for Beginners are conducted very much in this spirit: as the student–teacher observes, there isn’t even a blackboard in the room, and the lessons are improvised around the daily lives of the learners and their possible linguistic needs once they get to Italy. The film is Dogme 95 in style and Dogme ELT in spirit. 260 Afterword

Of course, the notion that language learning should be centered in the concerns, interests, needs, and desires of the learners – with the corollary that such an approach might sit uncomfortably with an educational tra- dition based on pre-packaged “teaching materials” – has a long history, and certainly pre-dates Dogme ELT. In 1961, Lionel Billows, in calling for a grounded in “real things”, had argued that “we should never allow [the textbook], or any picture or sentence in it, to stand between our pupils and the concrete world ... The language must not be allowed to stay imprisoned between the pages of a book” (1961, p. 71). Likewise, Strevens had made a similar appeal for the authentication of classroom language (using a wording that closely prefigures that of the Dogme 95 first “vow”): “Language is not a sterile subject to be confined to the class- room. One of two things must be done: either life must be brought to the classroom or the class must be taken to life” (1956, p. 69). And, in the context of the new-found concern for communicative competence that ushered in the communicative approach, Allwright (1990) was asking the question “What do we want teaching materials for?” and arguing that “the whole business of the management of lan- guage learning is far too complex to be satisfactorily catered for by a pre-packaged set of decisions embodied in teaching materials” (p. 136). For a start, the “content” of the language lesson – “if we define ‘content’ as the sum total of ‘what is taught’ and ‘what is available to be learned’ ” (p. 134) – is not predictable. “It is, rather, something that emerges because of the interactive nature of classroom events” [emphasis added]. As an alternative to “teaching materials”, he proposed that learners need to be trained to become more “invested” in the learning process, for which “learning materials” – such as “a learner’s guide to language learning” – might be more useful. In the same vein, Willis (1994) made the case for prioritizing the learners’ linguistic needs, an objective that a pre-selected syllabus of items was unlikely to meet:

In helping learners manage their insights into the target language we should be conscious that our starting point is the learner’s gram- mar of the language. It is the learner who has to make sense of the insights derived from input, and learners can only do this by consid- ering new evidence about the language in the light of their current model of the language. This argues against presenting them with pre-packaged structures and implies that they should be encouraged to process text for themselves so as to reach conclusions which make sense in terms of their own systems (p. 56). Afterword 261

The notion of “an emergent syllabus” had been anticipated in the work of a number of progressive educationalists, such as Ashton-Warner (1966) and Freire (1970, 1996), working in a wide range of educational contexts. As a case in point, John Wade (1992), a volunteer teacher in New Guinea in the 1960s, describes how he was recruited to start up, alone, an Australian government deep in the rainfor- ests of New Guinea. Having accidentally lost the few materials that he had, he describes how, impelled by the children’s needs and interests, he covered the primary school curriculum by working from what was immediately available. “I asked the children to show me what they wanted to know about, and gradually introduced English through their responses. ... We did our math and science in the bush by estimating how many kernels we could get from an ear of corn. We checked with the villagers where and how far apart we should plant them, and how big an area we would need to clear ...” and so on. Out of this experience, Wade evolved a textbook-free pedagogy that, he maintains, “not only empowers your learners, it also makes the teacher’s job in the classroom a lot more fun and much easier” (1992, p. x). In evoking the notion of empowerment, Wade appears to be associ- ating himself with the discourse of autonomy. If (in Holec’s original formulation) autonomy is “the ability to take charge of one’s own learn- ing” (Holec, 1981, p. 3), then autonomy is empowerment. But in what sense were Wade’s students autonomous? Not in the sense that they had no teacher and were purely self-directed. Like the Italian class in the Dogme film, the traditional division between teacher and learners still obtained. But the difference between Wade’s students and a con- ventional class is that the New Guinea learners had a degree of owner- ship of, and investment in, the evolving curriculum. It wasn’t imposed from above, or beyond, or outside, in the form (typically) of a textbook. In that sense they were free agents, autonomous learners, creating the path as they walked along it. As Auerbach says, “if students are passion- ately engaged with the content of learning because it helps them make sense of their lives...questions of process and power usually take care of themselves” (2007, p. 91). Allowing the learner to lead the learning process (as opposed to being led by it) was a core tenet of an innovative study in process writing undertaken in the early 1990s. The instigator, Marie Wilson Nelson (1991), had researched successful ESL academic writing programs and was impressed by “the degree to which these most successful teachers trusted what students (regardless of grade or ability level) told them about the kinds of support they needed in order to write” (p. 9). She 262 Afterword quotes one teacher who said, when she asked him why he gave such autonomy to his students, “How else would I know how to help them, Marie? You gotta follow the kid. You see, what’s missing in the writing is in the student – it’s not in me!” (p. 10). Accordingly, Nelson devised her writing program around the principle of “following the kid”. In her foreword to Nelson’s book, Martin (1991) summarizes the approach: “The tutors found that the most acceptable and effective teaching was to give the help the students asked for when they asked for it – that is, as the students perceived the need...The con- cept of teaching only at the students’ perceived points of need, and as they arise, presents a different view of learning from that of planned and sequenced series of lessons. The former view depends on recogni- tion of the power of a person’s intention as the operating dynamic in writing – and in learning” (1991, p. ix). In evoking the notion of learner empowerment, Nelson’s principle of teaching “at the point of need” and Wade’s “textbook-free pedagogy” both anticipate the Dogme philosophy, and validate the view that grammar-and-materials driven programs run counter to the notion of emergent and socially-situated learning. If language learning is socially- motivated and socially-mediated (as is claimed by proponents of socio- cultural learning, e.g., Lantolf, 2000) then, in order for it to occur, all that is necessary arguably – is a community of practice, where the tar- get language is the medium, and in which the learner is a “legitimate participant” (Lave & Wenger, 1991): “Rather than learning by replicat- ing performances of others or by acquiring knowledge transmitted in instruction, we suggest that learning occurs through centripetal [i.e. peripheral] participation in the learning curriculum of the ambient community” (p. 100). Note that Lave and Wenger (1991) distinguish between a learning cur- riculum and a teaching curriculum (which, in turn, echoes Allwright’s (1981, 1990) contrast between “teaching materials” and “learning materials”): “A learning curriculum is a field of learning resources in everyday practice viewed from the perspective of learners... A learning curriculum is essentially situated ...[and] is thus characteristic of a com- munity” (p. 97, emphasis in original). This would seem to capture the nature of Wade’s New Guinea experience, and especially the idea that “a learning curriculum consists of situated opportunities” (p. 97). What is significant about Wade’s account is that, once he finally had access to a copy of the primary school syllabus (“the teaching curricu- lum”), he was gratified to find that, by means of the “learning curricu- lum”, he had covered just about every item listed. “So I put the syllabus Afterword 263 away and continued as I had been doing” (1992, p. 97). It might be more accurate to say that Wade had not covered but uncovered the cur- riculum. That is, through the kinds of tasks and projects he set up, he had provided the means by which the learners’ language needs could be satisfied naturally and organically. The notion of “teaching to the learners”, rather than “teaching to the curriculum” is one that is shared by both the Dogme approach and what is known as learning. As Strickland and Strickland (1993) put it: “Whole language teachers use materials that suit the needs of the class, and the curricu- lum is, to a great extent, the product of interaction between the teacher and the students.” Elsewhere, they quote Jeff Golub, an award-winning teacher, to the effect that a whole language teacher “does not ‘cover’ anything. Instead, he or she works to ‘UN-cover’ the curriculum, to pro- vide experiences that allow students to develop certain insights and an improved level of language competence” (1993, p. 10). Likewise, from her experience in learner-led writing workshops, Nelson learned that “students’ problems applying rules teachers systematically ‘covered’... weakened whatever lingering inclination I had toward preventive/cor- rective instruction in grammar and mechanics, convincing me that teaching rules one to one, at the point of need, could be an effective approach in full-sized classes too” (1991, p. 251). Moreover, however good a textbook or a pre-planned syllabus is, it is unlikely to connect to the learners’ lives to the degree that locally gen- erated and personalized content can. This is especially the case if the book’s agenda – either overt or covert – is the teaching of discrete items of grammar. When this is the case, texts are not so much contexts for language use as pretexts to focus on language usage (Pulverness, 1999). As Grady (1997) puts it: ELT materials represent “all types of issues and all types of discourse as not requiring much thought or action beyond the decision as to the appropriate grammatical structure.” As an exam- ple, the teacher’s book of a current beginners’ course notes: “Through a light-hearted look at ‘national stereotypes’, SS [students] learn the he/ she/it forms of the present simple” (Oxenden & Seligson,1996, p. 43). The trivialization of content for the sake of linguistic structure con- tributes to a classroom culture of banality and lack of relevance, where learners are unlikely to experience a sense of investment either in the content of the lesson or in the processes of learning. Dogme, then, aligns itself with approaches to learning that are not simply learner-centered (in a feel-good, humanistic sense) but which take the view that learning “is both socially motivated and socially con- structed” (ELT Dogme, 2000). In that sense, its allegiances are less with 264 Afterword humanism, than with theories of language socialization, a central tenet of which is that “learning is a non-linear, relational human activity, co- constructed between humans and their environment, contingent upon their position in space and history, and the site of struggle for control of social power and cultural memory” (Kramsch, 2003, p. 5). Such a view of learning, in turn, both prioritizes, but necessarily constrains, the concept of autonomy. Autonomy, in this paradigm, does not necessarily mean self-directed learning. As Toohey writes, “In this work, learners are never independent; rather, they are linked to other people and their tools and their practices in complex ways” (2007, p. 241). Alternatively, individual independence might best be viewed as a consequence and natural outcome of mutually supportive commu- nity practices. From her writing program, Nelson (1991) extrapolates a developmental model that moves from dependence, through inter- dependence and finally to independence. As one of the writing tutors noted, “This middle stage [i.e. interdependence] is what we struggle so hard to achieve ... But once it occurs, independence is almost an after- thought. We don’t pay much attention to that when we work with groups, because once they get interdependent, independence takes care of itself” (p. 53). Autonomy, then, is less a matter of the individual taking charge of his or her own learning (in Holec’s much-cited formulation), although this may well be the long-term objective. Rather, it is the capacity of the group to take charge of its own learning, the group being “the people in the room”, which of course, includes the teacher. And this sense of group enterprise is what the film, Italian for Beginners, and, significantly, what this collection of papers, so eloquently expresses.

References

Allwright, R. (1990). What do we want teaching materials for? In R. Rossner & R. Bolitho, (Eds.), Currents of change in teaching (pp. 131–147). Oxford: Oxford Press. (Reprinted from ELT Journal, 1981, 36(1), 5–18) Ashton-Warner, S. (1966). Teacher. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Auerbach, E. (2007). Commentary on Part One: Necessary contradictions ... and beyond. In A. Barfield & S. Brown (Eds.), Reconstructing autonomy in lan- guage : Inquiry and innovation (pp. 84–92). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Billows, L. (1961). The techniques of language teaching. London: Longmans. ELT Dogme. (2000). ELT Dogme [website]. Retrieved from www.groups.yahoo. com/group/dogme Freire, P. (1970, 1996). Pedagogy of the oppressed. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Afterword 265

Grady, K. (1997). Critically an ESL text. TESOL Journal, 6(4), 7–10. Holec, H. (1981). Autonomy and learning. Oxford: Pergamon. Kelly, R. (2000). The name of the book is Dogme 95. London: Faber & Faber. Kramsch, C. (2003). (Ed.). and language socialization: Ecological perspectives. London: Continuum. Lantolf, J. (2000). Sociocultural theory and learning. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lave, J. & Wenger, E. (1991). Situated learning: Legitimate peripheral participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Martin, N. (1991). Foreword. In M.W. Nelson (Ed.), At the point of need: Teaching basic and ESL writers (pp. vii–x). Portsmouth: Boynton/Cook Publishers, Heinemann. Nelson, M. W. (1991). At the point of need: Teaching basic and ESL writers. Portsmouth: Boynton/Cook Publishers, Heinemann. Oxenden, C. & Seligson, P. (1996). English file, 1 (Teachers’ Book). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pulverness, A. (1999). Context or pretext? Cultural content and the coursebook. Folio, 5(2) 5–10. Strevens, P. (1956). Spoken language: An introduction for teachers and students in Africa. London: Longman. Strickland, K. & Strickland, J. (1993). Un-covering the curriculum: Whole lan- guage in secondary and postsecondary classrooms. Portsmouth: Boynton/Cook Publishers, Heinemann. Swan, M. (1990). A critical look at the communicative approach. In R. Rossner & R. Bolitho (Eds.), Currents of change in English language teaching (pp. 73–98). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Taguchi,N. (2005). The communicative approach in Japanese secondary schools: A case study. The Language Teacher, 29 (3), 3–8. Thornbury, S. (2000). A Dogma for EFL. IATEFL Issues, 153, 2. Thornbury, S. (2001). Teaching unplugged (or: That’s Dogme with an E). It’s for Teachers, Issue 1, 10–14. Toohey, K. (2007). Conclusion: Autonomy/agency through socio-cultural lenses. In A. Barfield & S. Brown (Eds.), Reconstructing autonomy in : Inquiry and innovation (pp. 231–242). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Wade, J. (1992). Teaching without textbooks. Carlton: CIS Educational. Willis, D. (1994). A . In M. Bygate, A. Tonkyn, & E. Williams (Eds.), Grammar and the Language Teacher (pp. 56–66). Hemel Hempstead: Prentice Hall. Index

academic writing, 143, 261 critical, 72, 75 adult learners, 49, 252 development of self-awareness, 8, advising, 21, 24 22, 74, 219, 234 see also tutorial anxiety, 5, 197 Bauman, Z. language, 196–7, 200, 148, 206 on culture, 4–5 reduction, 196–8, 200, on praxis, 5 204, 207–8 beliefs teacher, 28 about autonomy, 14, 245 Aoki, N., xiii, 225, 242 about language learning, 157, 229 on autonomy in , xii about learning goals, 120 on teacher autonomy, 253 shared beliefs, 134 assessment, 2, 134, 215 Benson, P. needs, 37, 41 on definition of autonomy, 15, 154 self-assessment, 29, 210–11, on teacher as resource or guide, 148 215–16 on three levels of control over attitudes, 98, 170, 197, 205, learning, 241 232–3, 237 bilingualism, xii, xiv change in, 69, 96, 98, 101 blogging, 182–94 autobiographical turn, xiv Bohm, D., Factor, D., & Garrett, P. autonomous on definition of dialogue, 253 learner, 111, 176 see also dialogue learning, 65, 74, 164, 242–3, 257 learning habits, 167 can-do statements, 23 autonomy performance chart, 22 definition, 182, 242 capacity, xii, 6, 8–9, 118, 227, 264 empowerment, 128, 137, 251–2, see also learner: capacity 261–2 Chamot, A., 9, 82, 88, 90 as a global movement, xii change, 4–6, 14, 245 learner, xii, xiv, 1–14, 18, 20–2, curriculum, 20 26–30, 32, 33–4, 36–7, 38, 47, ideas about autonomy, 27, 60, 65, 74, 79, 81, 87, 94, 98, 126, 243–4, 253 154, 167–70, 174–5, 178–9, 185, learning autonomy, 234 190, 210, 216–20, 226–7, 234, practice/pedagogy, 84, 88, 95, 128, 243–4 164–5, 226 reactive/proactive, 21 students’ attitudes, 26 reflection, 193 students’ performance, 28, semi-autonomy, 21, 185 98–103 teacher, xiii, 32, 168, 170, 178–9, syllabus, 80, 129, 212–15 183, 242–6, 253–6 choice, 28, 182, 165, 243 theory, 255 in classroom, 36, 38, 53, 102, 145, Autonomy You Ask (AYA), xiii, 2 211, 245 awareness, 71, 141–2 of goals, 33–4

267 268 Index choice – continued learners, 42–3, 47, 135, 161, 197 of learning resources/materials, 6, linguistic self-confidence, 206 24–5, 40–7 teachers, xiii of strategies, 89–90, 229 teacher-trainees, 174, 197, 243–5 see also goals; materials; resources see also anxiety classrom, 24, 35, 75, 163 constraints, 5, 14, 128, 155 communicative, 170–1, 259–60 context culture, 14, 102–3 cultural context, 2–3 in-class/out-of-class learning, 25, institutional contexts, 3–4, 7, 14, 79, 86, 90, 103–4, 207, 225–40 17, 22, 149–50, 155 junior high school, 174, 179, contradiction, 1–2, 6–7, 10–12 196–208 control, xi, 4–5, 7, 66, 154, 216, 235, management, 3, 157, 164 238–40, 253 opportunities outside, 37, 211–12 level of, 35, 104, 137, 143, 164, 188 space, 53 not taking, 37 traditional vs autonomous, 13, 21, in student-led class, 40, 46–7 28, 242–3 see also Benson, P.: on three levels collaboration, 6, 120, 165, 169, 173, of control over learning 184, 192–4 cooperative learning, 174 collaborative compare collaborative: learning collaborative vs cooperative cooperative skills, 172 learning, 167 Cotterall, S. learning, 11–12, 121, 142, 170, 177–8 on designing language curricula, 36 reflection, 8, 178–9, 226–8, 230 on maps of learning process, 111 teaching, 168, 177 on reflection, 33, 120 see also goals on study of readiness for autonomy, communication, 154, 259 15, 221 communication-oriented critical approach, 167 awareness, 72, 75 modes of, 105, 189, 193 engagement, 6–7, 72 online communication, 193 reflection, 108, 176–7, 227, 245, communicative 250, 253 classroom, 170–1, 259–60 self-awareness, 219 language teaching, 154, 165 thinking, 65–7, 94, 134, 185 see also communication: Csikszentmihalyi, M. communication-oriented on flow, 204 approach cultural context, 2–3 community, communities, 69, 107, culture 137, 147, 149 classroom, 14, 102–3 academic, 107 Japanese, 2–3, 102–3, 167 classroom, 49 learning, 14, 69 collaborative learning, 53 as praxis, 1–15 discourse, 11 see also classroom: culture of learning, 177, 179 curriculum, 3, 7, 21, 261–3 online communities, 193 development, 33, 36 of practice, 113, 122, 258, 262 evolving, 261 of readers, 11, 127 learner-centered vs traditional, see also Lave, J., & Wenger, E. 243–4, 255 concept explosion activity, 246–50 learning vs teaching, 262 confidence negotiated, 49–61 Index 269 decision-making, 21, 56, 97, 102–5, on dialogic method, 127 177, 242 on learning as empowerment and dialogue, 130, 214, 216, 252–3, 256 transformation, 137, 252 definition of, see Bohm, D., Factor, frustration, 242–4, 249, 253, 255 D., & Garrett, P. dialogic method, see Freire, P. Giddens, A. for negotiation, 1, 57 on modernity, 5 reflective dialogue, 76, 118 global audience, readership, 2 Dickinson, L. global errors, 213 definition of autonomy, 31 global theory, 250 Dogme, 257–63 goals, 22–3 Dörnyei, Z., 156, 165, 206, 217 autonomy as, 20 on motivational strategies, 82–3 in content courses, 128 drama, 154–65, 167 distant future, 37 goal-setting, 6–7, 56–8, 60, 144–5, eikaiwa, 34 172, 193, 231, 235–8 empowerment, xiii, 127–8, 137, 261 goals in collaborative learning, 168 see also autonomy: empowerment grades, 29 engagement, 14, 59–60, 104, 125–6, 137, 216, 231–2 Harris, M. critical, 6–7, 72 on writing centers, 142–3, 147 flow, 205 Holec, H. interdependence, 10–11 on definition of autonomy, 74, 261 lack of, 125–6 see also praxis identity, 149, 177, 219 English for Academic Purposes (EAP), independence, 10, 33, 79, 145–6, 65–6 165, 264 evaluation, 116, 118–20, 134, 173 see also interdependence: in Chutoriaru (self-study) classes, independence 23–4, 29 individual differences, 49 course evaluation, 26 institutions in a negotiated curriculum, 55, 57 institutional contexts, 3–4, 7, 14, peer, 55, 67, 118, 124, 134–5, 215 17, 22, 149–50, 155 see also self-assessment institutional expectations, 29, 210 experiment, xi institutional setting, 6 expert, 9–10, 110–11, 116 interdependence, 141, 149, 234, 264 expert-reader, 115 independence, 4, 19, 168, 234 , 5 positive, 167–80 expertise, 114, 122, 243, 246, 258 international students, 7–8, 20, 30, see also Giddens, A. 50, 127 feedback, 29, 40–1, 96–7, 104–5, 173, journals 177, 205, 210–20 journal writing, 94–106, dependence on feedback, 143 177, 183–4 honesty in, 188 video journals, 210–40 optimal feedback, 217 JSL (Japanese as a second language), peer, 211, 214–15, 218, 220 18, 30 in writing instruction, 141 see also evaluation Kohonen, V. Freire, P., 242, 252, 261 on interdependence, 234 270 Index language acquisition, 128, 136 listening Lankshear, C., & McLaren, P. to learners, xi on critical engagement, 6 log, 229–30 laughter, 197 strategy training, 78–93, 228–9 Lave, J., & Wenger, E. Little, D. on community of practice, 9, 113 definition of autonomy, 242 on legitimate peripheral on learner interdependence, 10, 167 participant, 131, 258, 262 on teacher autonomy, 178 learner, learners Littlejohn, A. autonomous learner, 111, 176 on language teaching materials, 72 autonomy, xii, xiv, 1–14, 18, 20–2, on learner choice, 33–4, 38, 57 26–30, 32, 33–4, 36–7, 38, 47, Littlewood, W., 239 60, 65, 73, 79, 81, 87, 94, 98, 126, on reactive and proactive 154, 167–70, 174–5, 178–9, 185, autonomy, 3, 21, 102, 167–8 190, 210, 216–20, 226–7, 234, 243–4 materials, 24, 65–77, 127, 198–9, capacity, xii, 6, 8, 9, 154, 227, 207–8, 229–30, 234, 259–63 239, 264 authentic, 35 development, xii, xiii, 57, 71, 78–91 commercial, published, 35, 65, 75 interests, 8, 20, 28, 35, 50, 55–6, in negotiated syllabus, 60 59–60, 257, 260 self-selected, 182, 184, 193, 230–1, needs, 7–8, 20–1, 30, 41, 49, 57–60, 233–4 257, 261 student-sourced, 161, 184 roles, 54, 203 metacognition, 177, 178 training, xii, 71, 225–7 see also learner; strategies Learner Development Special Interest models, 3, 107–20 Group (LD-SIG), x, 2 near-peer role models, 9 learning monitoring, 164, 220, 227, 229 autonomous, 65, 75, 164, 242–3, 257 More Autonomy You Ask (MAYA), xiii cooperative, 36, 108, 164, 171, motivation, 35, 49, 108, 145, 156, 160, 174, 176–7 161, 165, 226, 231–3 culture, 14, 69 lack of, 20–1, 58–60, 95, 105 experiential, 129 self-determination theory, habits, 167 extrinsic, intrinsic, 42, 147 histories, 57, 60, 196 Murphey, T. life-long, 121 on collaborative learning, 168 management, 23, 35–6, 227, 235, on critical reflection, 108, 216 237, 238 on effective teaching, 219 negotiated, 49, 51, 58, 60, 61 on near-peer role models, 9 preferences, 23, 35, 53, 57, 58 processes, 5, 94, 126, 148, 161, 197 needs self-directed, 7, 130, 252, 264 analysis, 52, 53, 55, 57, 59, 114, 118, styles, 23, 170 145 transformative, 94–106 assessment, 37, 41 legitimacy, 128 published materials, 35, 65, 75 struggle for legitimacy, 149 see also learner: needs legitimate peripheral participant, 113, negotiated 131, 262 curriculum/syllabus, 49–61 see also community: of practice learning, 49, 58, 60, 61 Index 271 negotiation, 127, 172, 211 journals, 176–7 negotiating authority, 58, 142, practitioners, 177 148–9 research of responsibility, 59–60 on autonomy, 1–2 North, S. research skills, 40, 136, 185 on writing centers, 142, 149, 146, resistance, 3, 13, 25, 58, 244 149 resourcefulness, 5 Nunan, D., 74, 78, 79 resources, 4–6, 8, 24–5 on negotiated syllabus, 8, 36, 49, cognitive, 164 52, 57, 61 learning, 262 material, 20–5, 50, 60, 66, 73–4, O’Malley, J., & Chamot, A., 9, 82 259 Oxford, R., 9, 81, 87, 206 technological, 192 see also materials; textbooks paradox, 3–5, 10–13 responsibility peer, 23, 42, 44, 108, 117, 137, 182, for assessment, 216 192, 203 for classroom management, 3 collaboration, 6, 168, 192–3 collective, 155 evaluation, 55, 67, 118, 124, 134–5, for decision-making, 21 215 negotiation of, 59–60 feedback, 211, 214–15, 218, 220 for own learning, 7, 46–7, 66, 74, near-peer role models, 9, 11, 113 102–4, 126–7, 135, 137, 146, 154, socialization, 177 165, 172, 177, 179, 182, 205 support, 147, 160, 175, 204–6, 208 transfer of responsibility, 33, 34, teaching/tutoring by, 142, 145, 257 36–9, 102, 111, 114 Pennycook, A. Richards, J., & Lockhart, C., 48 on cultural alternatives and role-modeling, 242 autonomy, 3 roles, 33, 141, 143, 168 planning of learner, 54, 203 lesson planning, 45, 47, 52, 55, 128, role models, 9, 201, 242 172–3 of teacher, 5, 108, 182, 210, 242, study planning, see learning: 257–8 management portfolio, 171–2, 178, 230–3, 236, 238 Scaffolding, 49, 82, 107, 126, 175, 219, power, 6, 8, 10, 11, 36, 58, 116, 128, 243 252, 262, 264 See also Wood, D., Bruner, J.S., & practitioner, 14, 30, 143, 154, 177 Ross, G. praxis, 1–15 self-assessment, 29, 210–11, 215–16 procedure, 22, 27, 28, 79–80, 82, 97, self-assurance, 202, 258 104 self-awareness, 8, 22, 68, 141, 214, professional development, 168, 169, 234 177, 188 self-direction, 49, 154, 257 self-evaluation, see self-assessment reflection, 9, 76, 173–4, 178, 183, 214 self-expression, 219 collaborative, 8, 178–9, 226–8, 230 self-instruction, 243 critical, 108, 176–7, 227, 245, 250, Seligman, M., 204–5 253 Sinclair, B., 168 reflective on learning to learn, 71 dialogue, 76, 118 on metacognitive skills, 9, 74 272 Index

SLA, see language acquisition theorist of autonomy, 249–51 Smith, R., xi, xii, 11, 29, 168, 225 see also virtual dinner party activity on reflective teacher-learning, xiii theory on teacher-learner autonomy, 243 engagement with, 74, 253 Sociocultural Theory, 9, 262 vs. practice, 6–7, 28, 30–1, 146, 176, Zone of Proximal Development, 9 243–4, 250 strategies, 57, 79, 96, 128, 167, 196, tools, 216, 220 226–7 for developing autonomy, 8, 28, style 264 learning, 23, 242–3, 258 for reflection, 42, 69, 103, 183, 216, teaching, 70, 78–9, 242 230, 233 subjective criticism, 126 transformation, 33, 95, 137 syllabus, 5, 66, 128, 243 transformative action, 102–3 agreed-upon, 36 tutorial emergent, 261 chutoriaru, 18–32 negotiated, 49 in-class, 39 process syllabus, see negotiated: writing, 141–3, 145–9 curriculum/syllabus van Lier, L., 154, 156, 163, 165 tasks, 107, 134, 154, 189, 263 video journals, 54–5, 210–24 real-world, 108 virtual dinner party activity, 244, teacher, teachers 250–3, 255 anxiety, 28 Vygotsky, L., 126, 251 autonomy, xiii, 32, 168, 170, 178–9, 183, 242–6, 253–6 Wenden, A., 154, 220 as collaborative thinkers, 183–4 on learning strategies, 9, 71, development, professional 74, 227 development, 174, 187–9 willingness, 10 roles of, 5, 108, 182, 210, 242, to communicate, 161, 239 257–8 Wood, D., Bruner, J.S., & Ross, G. technology, 8, 60, 190, 193 on scaffolding, 10 see also resources: technological writing centers, 141–53 textbooks, 8, 35, 65–9, 73 see also materials Zone of Proximal Development, 9 theoretical framework, 36 see also Sociocultural Theory