One of the more difficult assignments in my English classes comes near the end of each semester. Sometimes I call it a “transformative” essay, other times “reflective,” and other times a standard “autobiography.” In three pages, students write the simple story of their lives. Who were they yesterday? Who are they now? Who do they plan to be tomorrow? In my ESOL classes, the assignment takes a different variation. What was their relationship with written and spoken English as a child? What is it now? What will it be in the future now that they are leaving my class? For those learning English as a second language, my question is always the same: are you closer to the English language now than when you first came to my class?
Most people outside the boundaries of academia don’t think about their relationship with English. They just live their lives and go about their business. Those of us born speaking and writing English who choose to teach writing and reading tend to think about our connection with the language. We nurture it. We carefully choose how we speak and write because we know it makes an impression on the rest of the world. Students brave enough to take that plunge and make lives for themselves in this country understand that working with the English language is not about mastery but accommodation. Written English is a comfortable pair of shoes inherited from somebody else. It won’t wrap around our feet like a second layer of skin, but if we learn how to tell our story, there’s a chance magic might happen.
If we can all come to an understanding about the importance of written English, for native speakers and everybody else, there’s still the question of our autobiographies. Why are they so difficult to write? Are my instructions poorly spelled out? They seem simple enough for the ESOL classes. In three pages, approximately 750 words, tell me about your connection with English. Did you learn the language through movies or music? Which came first, speaking or writing? When you came here, how did you adjust to an all-English environment? How much English did you use in your daily life? Were you able to find parts of your culture in the books, music, and films of your new American life? Now that you’ve finished class, how will you apply what you’ve learned about the writing process to your future plans? Writing is about process and structure. We brainstorm, outline, write drafts, finish assignments, and submit final versions. A writing assignment may be finished, but it’s never over.
The Spring 2020 semester was cathartic for all of us, but for some reason the autobiography assignment was smoother than ever. We learned how to adjust. For six weeks we were in the classroom, looking at each other, sharing the same physical space, and then we were gone. Students from China, Haiti, The Dominican Republic, Moldova, Russia, Albania, and more wrote about their first experiences with English. They studied in school. They listened to American pop music and watched American sitcoms. They came to this country to study, to offer more opportunity for their children, to escape political persecution, and to embrace this elusive dream of infinite possibilities. Most of them don’t write much about their future, and that’s understandable. The future is unclear for any of us. If a student can effectively write in simple past tense form, present tense, and future, they’ve met the needs of the assignment.
Perhaps the autobiography was smooth this semester because at least a quarantine offers something definite. We know where we are now. We know that if we’re able to attend English classes online, our families can surround us, and we can retain some sense of security; the words will come easily from our minds to the page. For some students, it was hard to turn off the faucet once the flow of words came pouring out. Some students wrote half a dozen pages just about their lives in their home countries. They revealed personal stories, perhaps too private, and I had to gently remind them that this writing assignment was not meant to be therapeutic. Keep the private stories for yourself. Good writing does not have to be confessional and cathartic to make a difference.
As the summer semester starts, so too does our first full term of involuntary distance learning. I will be at several schools this summer teaching different populations with a wide spectrum of objectives that need to be reached. The one common factor will be me and my autobiography assignment at the end of the semester. English classes of any sort are always a thrill for me. The experience of connecting with students and giving them the chance to tell their stories will never get old. If my ESOL student is looking to attain competency in survival English or my Freshman college Comp 101 student is reflecting on wasted time in school and opportunities now with them with this class and this chance to tell their story, the least I can do is help them commit it to paper.
Christopher John Stephens is a veteran educator in the Boston area with over 20 years experience teaching English at most of the city’s major colleges and universities. He earned his M.A. in English in 1993 and M.F.A. in Creative Writing Non Fiction from the University of New Orleans in 2009. He writes regular book reviews and cultural criticism for the website popmatters.com and his other writing has appeared in (among other places) WBUR 90.9 FM’s COGNOSCENTI and the “On Point” radio program.
