We’re wrapping up our second session together. It’s been a fruitful one, and the feeling as we go back over the points covered and actions decided upon is upbeat.
Then she hits me with it—the question I’ve learned to be wary of.
“I’ve seen a short grammar course online, and I’m thinking of signing up. You know, to help me with tenses and stuff like that. What do you think?”
I’m not entirely surprised by this development. Self-consciousness about making “silly grammar mistakes” despite being a highly proficient English user was something this client brought up in our initial calls and emails. I just wish this particular grammar course hadn’t popped up in her algorithm until we’d been working together a little longer.
Aware that we’ve already run over time, that she has to get back to work, and that my own opinions on this question are probably too numerous to be helpful, I choose my words carefully.
“I think it’s important to ask yourself one question. Is this desire to learn more coming from a healthy place or an unhealthy place?”
My client tips her head to one side and invites me to expand.
“What I mean is… Is the interest in this grammar course coming from a place of curiosity, excitement, and genuine interest? Or do you feel like you need this course to feel confident? Do you think things like, ‘When I stop making tense mistakes, then I’ll be taken seriously’?”
The work I do with my language coaching clients can sometimes run counter to the work of my language teaching colleagues, and this tension often centres on whether or not I believe my clients should work to improve their English. Why do I so rarely recommend that my clients continue studying or working on their language skills?
The reason is that the clients I work with invariably sit in the middle of that uncomfortable Venn diagram where the overlapping circles are labeled “is great at English” and “thinks they’re not.”
For these individuals, the belief is that there exists some mythical level of language proficiency beyond which “you speak perfectly” and are therefore “never worried about your English.” English courses (or podcasts, or books, or clubs…) offer them a route to this mythical level, without ever addressing the underlying question of why they still feel anxious or inferior while completing tasks they already have more than sufficient language for.
From my perspective, then, the question isn’t whether continuing to learn and study is right or wrong, but whether it’s coming from a healthy or unhealthy place for the learner. A confident, grounded English speaker embarking on a Proficiency Certificate course because they’re looking for a new challenge can be great! On the other hand, an IELTS 7.5 holder who still struggles to speak up in meetings at work, even after a year in their role, may need support beyond more one-on-one speaking lessons.
My experience of language teaching is that much of it reinforces the idea of “better” and “worse” English. To gain higher marks in your writing exam, you should include a wide range of structures and vocabulary—and throw in an idiom for good measure! After the “talk with your partner” stage of a class, the teacher will write a few mistakes from your conversation on the board for group correction or invite suggestions on how to improve what was said. After completing your homework, you turn to the back of the book to use the answer key to see how many answers you got right.
Of course, for some people, this doesn’t impact their confidence at all. I still fondly remember a class in my first year of teaching when we were in hysterics because Jose Maria, an adult student in my A2 group who regularly scored 2/10 in exercises, was holding us rapt with his tales of goings-on at work. These individuals instinctively know that language is about communicating and will gladly throw in facial expressions, hand gestures, voice acting, and made-up Spanglish to get their point across.
For others, though, it’s harder to shake off the belief that English is a school subject they need to score highly in. The corrections, grades, and language criteria they absorbed in school follow them into their later work, studies, and relationships in English. They believe their managers, team, or the teachers at their children’s school hold them to the same standards that their high school final exam did. Being asked to repeat themselves feels like proof they’re not good enough at their job. Asking someone else to repeat themselves seems like evidence they haven’t got what it takes to make real friends in English.
For these people — my clients — taking yet another language course risks further cementing the idea that they’re not good enough. Until we’ve made significant progress on their underlying confidence, I’m reluctant to recommend it.
So, what do I say when my clients pose the question, “What do you think?”
Usually, my answer is one of the following two:
Give it some time. Let us keep working for a while first. I believe that, together, we can help you feel more confident without that course. You might surprise yourself and realise you don’t want to take it anymore. Or, you might still want to take it, but from a healthy, confident place where you can enjoy it.
Do the course, but pay attention to your thoughts and feelings while you’re on it. Are you slipping back into old patterns? Do you find yourself thinking more about grammatical choices or vocabulary in the following days and weeks?
With some clients, I may choose to be even more direct:
“If we’re working hard to help you understand that people in your life aren’t paying attention to your mistakes, and then you pay money to someone to correct them all, what do you think is going to happen!?”
For more information about my language coaching services, contact me at info@rhiannonelt.com
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