Life. Language. Learning.

Life. Language. Learning... The Archive

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Fri, 31 May 2013 15:23:00 +0000

Image: http://thelifeofseb.wordpress.com

This is the archive of

a blog exploring aspects of

life, language and learning
from the perspective of
a communication and learning researcher.

2008-2013

Images of Readers - Presentation by Lize Kriel

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Thu, 16 May 2013 03:54:00 +0000

This is the fourth installment in a series on presentations from the Print, Publishing and Cultural Production in (South) Africa Seminar held at the University of Pretoria on Monday, 13 May 2013.

Riveting. Galvanasing. Explosive. Not descriptions of the average late-morning academic seminar session. Yet this finely crafted presentation with its gripping visuals and powerful call to action had an immediate impact that provoked deep thought and lively discussion days later. Since perceptions of the presentation ignited some controversy among undergraduate students, I would like to point out that it presents a neutral observation and seeks explanations, in the spirit of the academic endeavour, and should be seen in that light.

Images of Readers

Prof. Lize Kriel, Pretoria University Department of Visual Arts

Image: Gustave Courbet (Public Domain)

Images of readers - usually of the impressionistic, chocolate box variety - have been an established feature of Western art for centuries. While the general image seems overly familiar, this presentation investigated the cultural assumptions underlying these well-known images, and the gaping voids in the seeming over-abundance.

The Privileged Lady of Leisure

Through the presenter's lovingly curated collection of image after image of readers, a theme clearly began to emerge. The reader presented and idolised in historical Western art is more often than not a woman. Not just any woman: reading has, historically, been the domain of the privileged, not only because of literacy but also because reading for pleasure calls for free time. And so it is that the plethora of art work repeatedly portrays European ladies of leisure, often in luxurious or outdoor surroundings (and, for some apparently unrelated reason, in various stages of undress.) While the activity of reading can signify knowledge and power, however, these readers seem removed from the real world where action is taken, thanks to a male benefactor who bestows upon them the luxury of boudoirs and gardens and a deadening abundance of leisure time to live vicariously through books over which they languidly and elegantly and anonymously pore.

Where are the Other Readers?

Judging by historic art, and even more recent photography, leisure readers are women - privileged and pale. The central question raised by Prof Kriel is where the other readers are, beyond this mode and gender and race? While they certainly exist, they are not nearly as frequently documented.

The occasional men who are pictured with books, unlike the ladies of leisure, tend to have names - big, intellectual, influential names. These men read with reason and purpose tied to action, even when they happen to be reading for leisure.

Across the race barrier, the pickings are even more sparse, specifically in South African art and photography. Documented images portraying black Africans with books tend to have a colonial angle: these usually feature local missionaries who have completed rigorous training in the imported religion, or school children who have received books donated from abroad (presumably in a language they do not yet understand). Although books signify knowledge and power, these rare images of African readers cast their subjects in a submissive role. However, although sparsely documented in images, the book did indeed play its part in empowerment, as discussed elsewhere this seminar.

Image: Schoolgirls by Gerard Sekoto

Tackling Stereotypes

Amid the dearth of images of female and black South African readers, there are welcome examples of reading for pleasure, power and subversion. Artist and musician Gerard Sekoto often portrayed books and readers as focal points in his paintings of everyday South African life. The painting alongside, entitled Schoolgirls, was cited as an example of enthusiastic, and judging by the extent of enthusiasm, most likely also subversive, reading. Audience response to the painting was remarkable, not only because it was so welcome and uplifting, but also because, as Prof. Kriel pointed out, one simply has to wonder what these girls are reading with such gusto.

The presentation ultimately poses the question whether the dearth of images of multi-gender, multiracial readers from South Africa is a reflection of circumstance or a reflection of social reality, and what the implications are. As a call to action, it is an open invitation to visual artists to fill the void and present us with local images of readers. And perhaps it is an invitation to all South Africans to make reading such a part of life that its visual representation becomes almost unavoidable.

Comments

There are many possible reasons for the scarcity of images of readers from South Africa. The country's history of conflict and inequality meant that leisure time for reading has rarely been abundant. Moreover, economic circumstances still mean, to this day, that access to books cannot be assumed. Moreover, although enough blame has been cast on the education system locally, one sadly has to wonder whether it has yet resulted in levels of literacy that make reading more pleasure than pain.

It is also true that among the many rich cultural production activities in the region, written text was not a traditional means of communication: this function was performed in other media like paintings, bead work, weaving, oral histories and music that were all encoded and decoded with very specific meaning. For this reason I would personally venture to say that if the definition of "reading" were expanded to include the traditional means of cultural production mentioned above, we may find a wealth of images.

Finally, as technology spreads, reading in the traditional sense increasingly involves a screen rather than a book. In Africa this has already reached the proportions of an informational earthquake. It will be very interesting to see if zealous reading for pleasure might not become a more prominent feature than ever before - in life as well as in art.

Contemporary Print Culture from Collections - Presentation by Sally Hughes

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Wed, 15 May 2013 18:43:00 +0000

This is the third installment in a series on presentations from the Print, Publishing and Cultural Production in (South) Africa Seminar held at the University of Pretoria on Monday, 13 May 2013.

This presentation offered a glimpse of a world that is in many ways very different from the one explored in the rest of this seminar: it took the participant from the vibrant and often undocumented cultures of Africa to the meticulously catalogued universe of collections - museums, galleries and the like. As something of an organization fiend (you hadn't noticed?) I must admit that I find the systematic nature of collections deeply reassuring, and this presentation offered an interesting glimpse into the reasoning behind the publishing endeavours that have become an integral part of cultural curation.

Contemporary Print Culture from Collections

Sally Hughes, Oxford International Centre for Publishing Studies

Books published by museums, galleries and exhibitions offer what Dr Sally Hughes calls a "legacy of an ephemeral event". In this respect, publications from collections are a very unique kind of book for a rather unique (and often elite) audience. What sets these books aside, in an era where so many cultural products are heading for our computers, tablets and smartphones, is that they are stubbornly resisting digitisation. Moreover, while these books have a small, niche market and a high cost, their survival is remarkable. Here, it appears, is a genre of books that is here to stay. The presenter highlighted the reasons for collections to publish, for visitors to buy books and the general development of books from collections.

Reasons for Collections to Publish

The most obvious reason for collections to publish is as a source of funding. However, considering the high costs of production and the relatively limited target market, there must be more to it. Dr Hughes emphasised the fact that in addition to funding, and the twin aim of developing a collection's brand, these books also develop their audience to have a deeper awareness of a particular exhibition - and their interest in later exhibitions. Moreover, many collections focus on children as a potential audience for their exhibitions, both present and future. One notices that a profit motive is not entirely absent, yet publications from collections undoubtedly also aim to serve the greater good.

Reasons for Visitors to Collections to Buy Books

In a contemporary museum or exhibition, all roads lead to the gift shop at the exit. As mentioned above, these shops serve the very valuable purpose of funding collections the public has the privilege to access, and books are generally among the more high-ticket items up for sale. Why is it that visitors sustain the production of books from collections, rather than simply opting for memorable trinkets? Books from collections are often bought as souvenirs, especially in the case of temporary collections. Museums, galleries and exhibitions are also (if somewhat regrettably) considered a rare form of cultural capital, and there is no denying the unspoken authority of a coffee table book from a respected museum. No point having that on your Kindle, is there? Yet buyers' genuine interest in content should not be underestimated, especially when it comes to images. Ultimately, buying a book from a collection is also a way of giving something back, especially in museums where the entrance fee is subsidised or nonexistent.

Development of Books from Collections

In a bid to serve its public and remain competitive, books from collections are evolving their approach. Whereas images were once accompanied by more extensive explanatory text, they now dominate pages at the front of most books, leaving sparser text for the notes at the back of the book. This makes sense not only in terms of readers' primary interest in the images, but also production costs. In addition, collections are increasingly taking more creative approaches to set their publications apart and make them more relevant to a larger public. An example from this presentation was the collaboration of the British V&A Museum with Japanese anime artist to create a series of graphic novels. Although print is likely to survive the digital revolution in this particular genre, I personally would expect collections to expand into the digital terrain, of not to replace its publications, to connect with them and, in particular, to woo the wired younger generation to the hallowed halls of museums.

My burning question: Although many collections are true gems, they sadly tend to be a rather elitist institution. Due to high costs, their publications tend to be even more so. What avenues would make collections, and their publications, more accessible (and perhaps more palatable) to a broader public? This question is especially pertinent in the developing world with its vast young population whose future success will depend in great part on the inspiration of great ideas.

The Intersection of Manuscript and Print in Timbuktu - Presentation by Shamil Jeppie

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Tue, 14 May 2013 20:50:00 +0000

This is the second installment in a series on presentations from the Print, Publishing and Cultural Production in (South) Africa Seminar held at the University of Pretoria on Monday, 13 May 2013.

Until very recently, to the average person the name Timbuktu simply signified a very remote and possibly fictional place. I remember my delight, as a child, at actually finding it in an atlas: Timbuktu really existed! In 1988 the ancient desert city was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site for the distinctive cultural treasures of its ancients mosques and mausoleums. In 2012, however, Timbuktu made news headlines for an unfortunate reason: violent conflict in Mali threatened the antiquities housed by the city. Among Timbuktu's antiquities is a rare, historic collection of manuscripts with intriguing implications.

The Intersection of Manuscript and Print in Timbuktu

Shamil Jeppie, Project Director, Timbuktu Manuscript Project; Professor, Department of Historical Studies, University of Cape Town

West African manuscripts are loose-bound. Image: time.com

The Timbuktu Manuscript Project at the University of Cape Town has been instrumental in present-day cataloguing, archiving and study of the Timbuktu manuscripts since 2003. This presentation introduced the ground-breaking role of the project, not only in the study of these manuscripts but in raising awareness of pre-colonial book culture in Africa.

After two decades of dedicated work on the ancient manuscripts of Timbuktu, Shamil Jeppie relates his findings with all the contagious zeal of an Indiana Jones in tweed. He marvels at the fact that, in the face of such compelling evidence, official histories of Africa still stubbornly insist that the book arrived in Africa with European colonists just a few hundred years ago. Since the Timbuktu Manuscript Project studies manuscripts from across Africa, there is ample evidence of rich book traditions, both in West and East Africa. Interestingly, manuscripts in West Africa were loose-bound in leather covers (see image), while those further East were bound much in the manner of today's books. The reason for the East-West divide is not apparent.

It is true that South African interest in Timbuktu has drawn criticism, most recently in an article by Hans Pienaar in Business Day (March 5, 2013), who quotes an unnamed American author as saying that Timbuktu was no literary Mecca but simply "a giant Xerox machine in the desert." In the study of manuscripts, where meticulous copying by hand far predated the printing press, Professor Jeppie retaliates that the phenomenal human "Xerox machine" is in fact worthy of celebration.

In particular, the presentation investigated the contribution of the Timbuktu collector Ahmed Belarif, who not only obtained and curated manuscripts, but also copied them. In many cases it appears that his copying work evolved into something of an editorial function: his copies of jurisprudential texts became considerably heftier than the originals. With 20/20 historical hindsight it is also ironic to note that in an essay of his own, entitled On the Importance of History, Belarif accuses his contemporaries in Timbuktu of disregarding the value of their heritage. A further striking point is that with the introduction of movable type for Arabic script, Belarif has no qualms about the innovation, unlike rather luddite copyists elsewhere who considered print something of a perversion of their craft.

The presentation closed with images from the Timbuktu Manuscript Project collection, and I was so riveted that I would not have been surprised to find a film of manuscript dust on my shoulders at the end of it. It turns out that, although Timbuktu is a real place (all too brutally real, considering recent events), it is nonetheless the stuff of legend.

My burning question: Although I am fiercely in favour of acknowledging pre-colonial cultural production in Africa, one cannot ignore the fact that these manuscripts are in Arabic script, with the vast majority of them in the Arabic language. Although it arrived well before the European colonists, the Arabic script and language were patently not homegrown. The question, then, is to what extent these manuscripts should be viewed as representative of cultural production in Africa. Let the record show that I am absolutely backing the home team here... but inquiring minds want to know.

Book History in South Africa: Recent Developments and Prospects - Presentation by Archie L. Dick

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 13 May 2013 22:09:00 +0000

By sheer serendipity I was lucky enough to attend the first sessions of the Print, Publishing and Cultural Production in (South) Africa Seminar at the University of Pretoria Graduate Centre this morning. Supported by the University of Pretoria, Oxford Brookes University, the British Academy and the French Institute of South Africa (IFAS), the event brought together scholars from the motley fields that kindle the interdisciplinary study of Book History. The sessions gave both an introduction to the value of Book History in general and some unique interpretations of what this field means in Africa, where "books" do not always involve either paper or text. Although I was only able to attend the first few presentations, they were so thought-provoking that I would like to briefly share their essence here in the next few posts, beginning with the first presentation of the day.

Book History in South Africa: Recent Developments and Prospects

Archie L. Dick, Department of Information Science, University of Pretoria

Image: UKZN Press

Professor Archie Dick's recent book The Hidden History of South Africa's Book and Reading Cultures (pictured left) has established him as something of a figurehead among local Book History scholars. During this presentation he successfully demonstrated the value of the study of Book History with a teasing glimpse into his own detective work on books and reading in South Africa's checquered past.

The presenter's central argument was that this field of study intersects significantly with other areas of society and culture throughout history. Two examples from his own research cemented the point.

On the one hand, he quoted an "unsolved mystery" in the the history of the Afrikaans language. This case involved a comparative glossary of words in the Dutch, Khoi and Latin languages compiled by an early Dutch settler at the Cape. While correspondence regarding the list survives, it seems there was a huge bungle with the attribution of authorship commonly acknowledged in histories of the language, while no trace of the actual original list has yet been found. This very crucial link in the development of a language that became so contentious at the southern tip of Africa is simply missing, leaving a trail of unanswered questions.

On the other, he referred to the unexpected impact on South Africa of an unlikely agent: none other than the nineteenth century novelist Charles Dickens. It turns out that Dickens had a fourfold influence on affairs here in the south of the supposedly Dark Continent. Firstly, his works were serialised (generally without the disgruntled novelist's permission) in South African newspapers, and became wildly popular, being read aloud and passed along. Secondly, the arrival of his full novels in local libraries stirred up a furore over what virtuous locals considered to be their questionable morals. Thirdly, Dickens' disctinctive characters soon found their way (once again without their creator's consent) to the stage in homespun scripts that brought ephemeral stardom to amateur thespians around the country. Finally, and most strikingly, works like Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities played a cameo role in South Africa's own revolution. Since these novels were considered classics, they were freely available, unlike overtly political books that were banned lest they foment uprising. Yet the powerful undercurrents of class conflict in these works played an insidious role in inspiring young intellectuals during the liberation struggle against the apartheid regime. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," Dickens had written in A Tale of Two Cities. He may as well have been describing the Struggle.

These fascinating flights through the past served to demonstrate how Book History casts a unique light on what the speaker calls "the making, un-making and re-making of history". It is not at all impossible that this engaging presentation recruited more than a few newcomers into the fold.

My burning question: During the seminar several references pointed to forms of cultural production that, although they are not "books" made of paper or containing alphabetic texts, have been massively significant in South African culture. These include rock art and story cloths. I would love to know where Book History situates these very important artifacts in its study. Are they the "books" of history?

Literacies Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 21:00:00 +0000

In education and technology circles there has been much talk in recent years of multiliteracy - the ability to communicate in different technological media that has become as vital as reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic in today's world. Like the traditional literacy that went before, multiliteracy vastly expands one's platform for receiving, processing and sharing information. There is a lot to be said for the ability to read, write, blog, vlog and tweet one's way through life. Yet having unboxed all these shiny new skills, it is worth checking the bill: what price have we paid?

Pitfalls

A mind no less great than that of Socrates once warned against the dangers of the written word. He argued that writing would be inflexible to subtleties of meaning, blunt the powers of memory and, most dangerously, lead to the risk of superficial understanding. Whatever the virtues of writing (and my own insatiable indulgence in the written word), I can't prove him entirely wrong. Since Socrates' day, similar objections have been raised about all manner of innovations - not least the new media. In fact, as the power of the media expanded from stone tablets to tablet computers, so did the potential for problems. If Socrates was concerned that writing would tarnish the memory, I shudder to think what he would say of the multiliterate shopping list, which could be anything from a quick photograph of the refrigerator to the Out of Milk smartphone app. (Not to mention the fact that I had to Google the app's name, having forgotten it. Googling is another vital multiliteracy, of course.)

Reading the Word and the World

Education icon Paolo Freire, in his work on adult literacy, referred to "reading the word and the world". His take strongly emphasised the empowerment that came with literacy. However, it is the skill of reading of the world - those fine details that do not translate into print - that seems to me to be the literacy we increasingly misplace when we learn to read... and may be permanently losing with our nonstop-hyperactive-always-on multiliteracies.

The Life Literates

I am honoured to have known a good handful of people who do not read or write words - so-called illiterates. And time and again I have been humbled to find that I am the one who is lost in their deep, focused, enveloping presence - a presence that is not disturbed by text or tweet or notification. They are the ones who have read the thoughts I had not dared to cross the threshold of awareness. The ones who analyse the codes of Nature. They are the ones who write in gardens with immortal evergreens, in crafts that far outlive them, and in the stories that they retell from memory and embellish in the heat of the unrecorded moment, never to be rewound, paused or replayed. They are the ones who, rather than reap the words of those gone before, or sow their own for the future, flourish in the ever-evasive present.

Yes, there are injustices in this. Literacy as we know it is the usher for opportunity, and multiliteracy perhaps even more so. Today literacy is theoretically a basic human right, and one nobody should be robbed of it. But how much of the full spectrum of human experience has the modern multiliterate become unable to read and write?

Work Ethic: An Inside Job

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 20:54:00 +0000

Image: David, Petrol Attendant
and Work Ethic Master, via mtcleroux

I have come to the conclusion that fears of a zombie apocalypse may be perfectly justified. With a small modification. It is not the Walking Dead that are to be feared. It is the Working Dead.

Defining Work

A dear mentor of mine used to intone, mantra-like, that work is to the soul what food is to the body. And I agree. I love to work: work is my play and I approach it in that spirit. Work, here, is defined as meaningful, constructive activity. What is meaningful? The answer to that question is personal and profound. I am often struck by the intelligence and zeal that some "unskilled workers" bring to what they do. One example in my neighbourhood is the radiant petrol attendant David, pictured right, whose professionalism, dedication, integrity and genuine kindness would be an asset at any level of any organization. His work is meaningful because he makes it so.

But there is another kind of work: the "daily grind" that societal structure requires in exchange for the currency that is said to make the world go round. Work, in this case, does not necessarily have meaning. It does not necessarily involve scope for initiative, and performance (which tends to be mediocre at best) is driven by punishment rather than intrinsic reward. Maintaining acceptable levels of mediocrity is rewarded extrinsically with a pay cheque. Even in a world where MBAs are as common as weeds, this Working Dead model still persists. In fact, it has undergone a renaissance since the advent of call centres. And, if I may risk the pun, it simply doesn't work.

Defining Ethic

The most suitable definition of ethic in the context of work is that of a guiding philosophy. When it comes to work ethic, the fundamental question would be:

What is my guiding philosophy about work?

Then again, the entire implication of work ethic is that work is unpleasant. Why would anyone need to be ethical about something they simply loved doing?

Work Ethic that Works

I don't have a final answer on the problems of the unpleasant work that needs doing in this world, or the masses of people who claim they need jobs. There are, however, three sources that offer interesting perspectives on how work ethic can be fostered from within.

The Play Ethic is musician-author Pat Kane's "Manifesto for a Different Way of Living". Kane takes play seriously: seriously enough to have devoted this tome and a second career to its study. The book is no light read, but a delightful shift in perspective on play as meaningful and productive - remarkably similar to my earlier definition of work.

Philosopher Alan Watts investigated the nature of work with a rare and courageous perspicacity. His thought-provoking lecture What if Money Was No Object lays the deadening paradox of working for money bare, and has become vastly popular online. In it he even constructs a logical explanation why choosing an occupation that brings you joy has the potential to be more profitable than anything else - but of course, profit is not the object of the game. It is simply a side effect.

The Venus Project, a radical proposal for a functional society, offers yet another perspective. In the organic sci-fi cities proposed by founder Jacque Fresco there is would be very little "work" to do. Scientific knowledge and intelligent design would take care of most of the nitty-gritty, while many of the profitable industries of today would be obsolete. Without poverty, disease, dishonesty and inefficiency (not to mention the monetary system), what demand would one supply? Even if this concept calls for some suspension of disbelief, it is worth considering how one would pass one's time in a world like that.

These three bold perspectives may run wildly contrary to societal values, and of course many whip-cracking bosses and listless employees will dismiss them as idealistic. Idealistic they may be, but are they any less realistic than the model of grudgingly working (or even being exploited) only for money and out of fear of punishment? In the final analysis, true work ethic cannot be forced on anyone, but grows out of a sense of meaning. It simply is an inside job.

The Punchline: How Humour Makes Learning Happen

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 12:14:00 +0000

The Proof is in the Punchline

Image: gavinsharples.co.za

Three weeks ago I was lucky enough to attend a presentation by Gavin Sharples, self-described Action Man of motivational speaking and business training, hosted by the South African National Small Business Chamber (NSBC). That would not be so remarkable, except that today, three weeks later, the concepts he introduced are crystal clear in my mind. What is more, I have been acting on them. That, ladies, gentlemen and idle hangers-on, is what is remarkable. While Sharples uses a bundle of techniques to make learning stick, the most powerful is a lightning-fast, razor-sharp (and somewhat devillish) sense of humour.

Image: The Book Depository

Scholarly Support for Learning with Humour

The pedigree of studies investigating humour in learning goes back some time. The more recent Using Humour to Maximize Learning: The Links between Positive Emotions and Education by Mary Kay Morrison not only gathers the findings, but offers practical guidelines. According to Morrison, humour benefits learning in the following ways (summary via iae-pedia.org):

Humour contributes to mind/body balance, especially through the physical effects of laughter
Humour optimizes brain power by focusing attention
Humour enhances creativity by creating unlikely connections and giving fresh perspective
Humour supports the change process by opening minds to new possibilities
Ultimately, humour is both a cause and symptom of an ideal learning environment

The American Psychological Association, too, has devoted the pages of its prestigious journal to discover How Laughing Leads to Learning. Meanwhile, in the controversial, virtual halls of online learning, humour has been found to be a powerful antidote to the common ailment of online learner attrition in a Science Daily article.

The Formula for Funny?

Humour can, of course, be a minefield, and treading on anyone's toes is never funny. Some of the most hilarious moments happen unexpectedly, and cannot be contrived. However, the Information Age does generously provide for the humorously impaired. In the rib-tickling film Keeping Mum (2005) a priest played masterfully by Rowan Atkinson scours the Web to find jokes that bring the parish salvation from his formerly dull sermons. But humour and fun are more than just verbal jokes, as the great online resource for lightening up public speaking and training at dummies.com demonstrates so well.

A formula for humour is a bit of a paradox, since humour at its best sprouts organically in the unscripted, the unexpected and the unformulaic. The best we can do is to take ourselves lightly and be ready to see things from a fresh perspective.

That would be the punchline, except that it isn't a straight line: it's an ongoing learning curve.

The Joy of Not Working?

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 10:36:00 +0000

It is surprising how difficult it is to explain to people that I don't work. So difficult, in fact, that I have recently been in danger of a minor identity crisis resulting from the casual question, "Oh, so what do you do?". The socially acceptable answer begins with the words "I am a ...". It is an answer that I do not have at the moment. Even by training I am a professional schizophrenic impulse-driven vagabond. And so, who, exactly, am I?

(Let the record show, at this point, that although I am not employed, I actually do work. Hard and happily. More productively and more significantly than many employees. However, I do not have an employer, and do not receive a salary. I am very grateful that this is an option I am free to consider.)

Image: via Ernie Zelinksi

Enter The Joy of Not Working by another professional vagabond, Ernie J. Zelinski. If ever there was a book that shuffled my social programming about the iconic Job, this is it. I picked up the book as a sly indulgence in a second-hand bookstore, but a few chapters into the furtive read, my attitudes towards employment and the work ethic were transformed. Yes, I even stopped hiding the cover when reading in public. Although Zelinski's own implementation of his philosophy may be a bit extreme (he exercises for two hours a day and is a bit more frugal than my accessory fetish would allow), his argument is compelling. It turns out that what he is opposed to is not work, but the societal pressure, materialistic drives and individual lack of imagination that keeps people trapped for long hours in jobs that do not fulfil them. When you think about it, it makes sense.

The Joy of Not Working is written "for the retired, unemployed and overworked", and though I don't really fit into any of these categories, the book not only restored my dignity but reminded me how fortunate I am to have a respite from the pressure, rush and powerlessness of employment. In fact, it opened my mind to start actively pursuing long-term alternatives to formal employment - while enjoying the situation I am in now for what it is.

Anyone who has left the workforce - especially without the intention - can benefit tremendously from a reading and re-reading of this book. But the people who need The Joy of Not Working most are the overworked - if only they will make the time!

"If work were so pleasant the rich would keep it to themselves."

- Mark Twain

Curious? Get The Joy of Not Working at The Book Depository and enjoy free delivery on all books.

Saving Grace

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 20:04:00 +0000

Image: desktopnexus.com

Money, as the Beatles argued, can't buy me love. But though I'm not the type to argue that money makes the world go round, there is no denying that in this material word it can make things happen. That is its charm: I'm not all that interested in money, but I do like what it makes possible. (Incidentally I believe true wealth is the growing of fruit trees.) Which is why I get a bigger kick out of investing than I do out of - gasp! - shopping. Here's why.

The Windfall

A few years ago, I received an unexpected windfall . My grandfather had decided that rather than endowing money to his grandchildren in his will, he would give each of us a fixed amount on his 87th birthday. Of course, each of us saw the windfall in our own way. Some welcomed the extra cash for existing commitments, others used it to supplement their student wages, one took an unforgettable trip... and I was lucky (or boring) enough not to have any urgent need for the money. I asked my grandfather how he would advise that I invest this windfall. He recommended national bonds, which offered an exceptional interest rate of 9.5% per year at the time. Not knowing what else to do, I followed his advice.

Image: illuminations.ntcm.org

The Wait

The dangerous beauty of compound interest is that it takes a while to show its true potential. After one year I felt a bit discouraged to see that my R10,000 had increased to only R10,950. Where's the fun in that, after all? I hardly felt like the next Warren Buffet.

Feeling somewhat disheartened, I didn't give the investment much thought until it matured after three years. By this time my grandfather had passed away, and reopening that investment statement was quite a poignant experience. He had left me more than a gift of money: he had shared a legacy of mastering it. To my surprise I found that my little windfall had fattened up to almost R13,000 - an increase of near 30% of the initial investment. Given the option to cash out or reinvest, I had no doubts about the next step: I was hooked.

The Winning

Image: illuminations.ntcm.org

Thirsty for more, I reinvested for another two years. This means that I will have parted with the initial amount for five years. The graph on the right shows how by that time the investment will have grown to more than R16,000, increasing its value by more than half. While it is true that this does not account for inflation, it is certainly a whole lot better than what the money would have done in the bank, under the bed or, worst of all, burning a hole in my pocket at the mall. Most importantly, it is massively empowering to think that rather than being the one paying the interest, I am the one receiving it.

The Wobbly Bit

As I mentioned earlier, I really do believe that true wealth means growing fruit trees. Seriously. Fruit trees give food, shade, oxygen, beauty and joy. Thing is, very few travel agents, clothing stores or restaurants accept even the most luscious fruit in exchange for their goods and services. Money does have a sordid side, and it may well be that its days are numbered. Yet in the end there is little more sordid than being disempowered by the lack of money. It simply is more fun to be raking in interest than paying it.

The Word to the Wise

I will not preach. That said, it is extremely inspiring (or sobering, for anyone with debt!) to play around with a compound interest calculator like the one at www.illuminations.ntcm.org. The calculator shows exactly how once-off or repeated investments grow, and provides graphs like the one in this post to drive the message home. (Yes, there is also a credit card interest function for those who are contemplating going to the dark side.) No, I need not preach. But it certainly isn't a bad idea to play around with a compound interest calculator. And then take action.

Honestly, it beats shopping.

Digital Footprint: The Big Cleanup

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 10:16:00 +0000

Image: http://wakeup-world.com

One small step for man; one great big leap into oblivion for a digital junkie. Yet the time finally arrived when I simply had to clean up my digital footprint. Yes. I've done it. I have deleted all the online accounts I no longer use, and updated the rest. With a virtual history like mine I can assure you that is no mean feat.

At this stage I am still not entirely convinced that I actually exist if I no longer fill the entire first page of a Google search for my name. That's all right, though: I have a strange sense of being purified and reborn. Not to mention a little more up to date. The drawback of old those old online accounts was not so much that they had become out of date as that many of them no longer reflected my interests or views, and worse yet, they left just a little bit more information about me out there than I would like to share with the whole wide world and its evil cousins.

While there is no doubt that many online services can make life easier, better or simply more fun, there is a sinister side to sharing personal data indiscriminately. Perhaps How to Ditch Big Brother and Disappear Forever is taking things a bit far, but periodocally re-evaluating what we share online is probably not a bad idea. In my case it was a pre-New Year's resolution and something of a personal revolution. And while my virtual identity has taken a bit of a blow in the process, real life is the better for it.

Thinking of a digital footprint cleanup? While you might want to erase your digital footprint completely, most normal people who are not running from the law will benefit from simply deleting unused old accounts, adjusting privacy settings on accounts they wish to maintain, and reconsidering who really belongs in their social networks.

Here's to virtual rejuvenation!

Learning Miracles

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 20:57:00 +0000

It was this night, exactly one year ago, that miracles irrevocably became a cornerstone of my existence. When my brother Max sustained a severe brain injury in a car accident on 13 December 2011, it became perfectly clear that the only viable option was the impossible. Since then my family has operated in a delicate web of what can only be called miracles. If there is anything worth learning, this must be it.

Image: Max & Me, December 2012 (mtcleroux)

A brain injury can have any of a range of effects of varying severity, and it can take a long time to determine their nature and scope. In Max's case the wait was long and uncertain. It was almost four months before he showed clear signs of awareness and comprehension. Complications, many of them caused by hospital "superbugs", side effects of medical treatment and inactivity, left his life hanging in the balance long after he regained consciousness. Forget recovery: for a long time survival alone was nothing short of a miracle. And what would his quality of life be after all this?

While the effects of such a massive injury are extensive and do take time to address, his condition today, one year after the accident, is awe-inspiring. Seven months after being sent home by doctors who said there was no longer anything they could do for him, Max is undeniably back on the map. Today he woke up after a full night's natural sleep to enjoy a playful and complex two-way conversation over a morning drink. He demolished small, nutritious meals every few hours, carefully chewing and swallowing without incident. He frequently requested what he needed to be more comfortable or satisfied. He graciously received guests and made conversation with them, referring to shared knowledge and long-standing private jokes. And, yes, he made his thumbprint to certify a document, because he has not yet regained full control of his arms, legs and neck. That is a matter of time.

Because when you deal in miracles you soon realise that they are not always beyond understanding. Most certainly there are things over which no human can exercise control, and it is justified to marvel when they go right. Yet the scope of what we can control should not be underestimated. How many seemingly insurmountable obstacles can be scaled with persistence in even the smallest steps? Even the tiniest actions add up phenomenally when they are persistently taken: the results seem nothing short of miraculous.

In this case, above all, an atmosphere of unconditional love has meant that everything is all right, every moment, no matter what. The only expectation is to fully explore potential, and this expectation applies not only to Max but also to everyone in his support team: the family, care workers, the army of healing practitioners with a battery of techniques ranging from the conventional to the extreme fringe - and even the many administrators guiding us through the red tape surrounding all this. Everybody plays their part, and it all adds up.

I am in no position to deny that miracles that transcend human understanding are possible: like a presidential spokesperson I can neither confirm or deny their existence. What I do have evidence of is that when small actions and small kindnesses add up, the results are nothing short of miraculous.

To all those who have taken those actions - big and small - and shared those kindnesses, I offer my sincerest acknowledgement. You have participated in a miracle. More than that: you have exposed the formula for miracles that can be duplicated in any situation. What we can accomplish together is mind-boggling. Miracles? We should do this more often.

And to Max? You are perfect. Always have been, always will be. With a brain re-wired and a life re-invented, perhaps more so than ever.

ZOOM

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Sun, 25 Nov 2012 11:34:00 +0000

I recently came across an educational video from the 1970s that illustrates the relative scale of objects in the universe, from the "innerspace" between sub-atomic particles to the vastness of outer space. Yes, the production may seem a bit dated and even cheesy, but the point was really driven home. It also brought to my awareness the value of "zooming" in and out cognitively. But first, the video.

It so happened that I saw this just after a short but much-needed holiday, where for the first time in eighteen months I was able to step out of the urgency of work and family matters to "zoom out" to a bigger picture. As it turns out, the week away may have been one of the most productive in all that time! There is the wonderful idiom of not seeing the forest for the trees, and stepping away to see the forest has given me a much better perspective on the trees to which I have had my nose pressed for so long. Not only has this given new life to those projects, but it has also lifted my mood tremendously.

Another discovery (or re-discovery) that drove the point home was dabbling in Prezi, the "zooming" presentation software that offers a welcome non-linear alternative to "death by PowerPoint". Prezis offer the alternative to zoom into elements, which can be hidden indistinguishably inside images and zoomed into... a bit hard to describe, but this example is well worth seeing. After watching a number of jaw-dropping Prezis and trying it out myself (with less stellar results), this idea of zooming in and out from the big picture to infinite complexity really stuck with me.

As if this weren't enough, I then stumbled (or re-stumbled) upon the beguiling RSA Animate series, which uses an animation style known as scribing - representing the spoken word in a highly visual way. The end of each RSA animation zooms out from the intricate network of illustrated ideas to the "big picture", which includes the entire opus. This is the kind of thing that makes any chaos theory buff tingle.

The point of all this is that human beings (especially the one sitting in my seat) benefit from using their faculty of zooming in and out to the fullest. Especially in the world of work, and perhaps even more so of study and scholarship, results can be enriched infinitely by "zooming out" to other activities, other disciplines and even total randomness (known in a more poetic bygone era as serendipity). In fact, an influential analysis of creativity (The Art of Thought by Graham Wallas, 1926) suggests that an "incubation period" of stepping away from a project may indeed be the most productive step after a certain amount of preparation, since it leads to "illumination".

Zooming out is not a waste time: it may the the time best spent.

Music!

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Sun, 28 Oct 2012 11:55:00 +0000

Image: Harlequin and Pierrot by Andre Derain (1924)

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

-Arthur O'Shaughnessy, Ode (1874)

As the buoyant strains of Arabic pop started to gently unravel my Sunday blues, the wonderful book The Tao of Music by Dr John M. Ortiz came to my mind. When reading the book, which has been one of my treasures, I remember being struck by how prolific and versatile the author was. Aside from his contribution to psychology, he was also an accomplished musician and martial artist. Curious to find out about his more recent work, I tracked down his Institute of Applied Psychomusicology website. Here I was once again moved to find evidence of the vibrant and passionate work Dr Ortiz had done during a lifetime that was resonant and harmonious in every sense of the word. Ideas from The Tao of Music have often echoed in my endeavours, and I am grateful to have shared in a few lines from this great man's song.

Ideas from The Tao of Music

Because concepts from the book have been so helpful to me in work and life at large, I am listing a few here with a brief description. The Tao of Music is a treasure trove of further ideas, though, and well worth a complete reading.

Music for Mood: The book suggests a spectrum of ways to use music for directing moods. This is applied to more serious clinical cases, but is equally valid for everyday emotional obstacles (like getting through Sunday evening/Monday morning, in my case!). See my earlier post on sourcing music for mood online for more ideas.

Music for Training: Working from a psychological perspective, many of the training objectives in the book involve personal traits, such as overcoming fears or "training" to take on problematic situations successfully. Incidentally, since an important part of my current project involves training groups of people, I have become acutely aware of how helpful music can be in this respect as well.

Music for Timing: An excellent trick from the book is to use music for timing. The duration of a piece of music can be used as a natural timing device, whether it is for an exercise regimen or household chores. I once attended an outstanding training course where the dramatic, 70-second Also Sprach Zarathustra by Richard Strauss was played to bring trainees back from breaks. 100% effective!

Music for Concentration: Musical awareness has often been alleged to correlate with concentration and thinking skills. Anyone can capitalize on this by selecting music that supports concentration during intensive thinking tasks. My own experience with this is that when I have academic writing or reading to do, I put on Baroque music (and a burner of peppermint essential oil), and emerge two hours later having moved mountains. The force of habit certainly plays a part, but the music is definitely an essential ingredient.

Music for Escape: Perhaps not the way it is phrased in the book, but every music lover knows that sound holds a secret door to anywhere and anywhen. My favourite suggestion from the book is called "The Magic Nightclub", and it involves lining up your most-loved energizing music, unplugging the phone and setting up a space where you can dance your heart out. (At least, that's the way I do it, though I might have adapted it a bit....)

Musical Menus: The book offers suggested "menus" of music for different purposes, including tracks, artists, albums and the playing time for each recording.

21st Century Twists

The Tao of Music contains ideas of lasting value. However, it was published in the 1990s, just shy of many of the technological developments that have revolutionized music in recent years. Seen from a contemporary angle, there are many new possibilities: playlists, public domain music, streaming radio, music discovery, recording your own music with free software, remixing existing music... I shan't say more than that for now, but technology has added countless variations to a theme that sounds wonderful already.

Curious? Get The Tao of Music from The Book Depository and enjoy free delivery on all books.

ICAL and Mobilcase 2012 Conference

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 10:57:00 +0000

I love returning from a professional development of any stripe with new inspiration. That said, in a publish-or-perish environment I have been known to return from conferences in the throes of an existential crisis: the pressure to produce does not always result in the most meaningful product, and as manufacturers like to say, "results may vary". The International Conference on Active Learning (ICAL), hosted in tandem with the International Conference on Mobile Learning (Mobilearn) at Universiti Teknikal Malaysia the past few days was a pleasant surprise.

Although the event was a first for the organizers, it stood out for its remarkably friendly atmosphere and kind, helpful organizing staff. The few teething problems that are not at all unusual for a first event of this magnitude were swiftly and efficiently addressed. More importantly though, I heard repeatedly that participants and presenters alike felt they were learning. Speaking for myself, I was quite pleased to make a few new discoveries and, I must admit, get my groove back after being in a bit of a rut for a while - an occupational hazard of working on a very focused, demanding project.

Scheduling made it possible to attend all the keynote presentations, while there were parallel sessions for the other presentations and workshops. As luck would have it, the parallel sessions I attended were enriching and uplifting. My rather rough notes are available here, but in this post I will just include a very brief summary and links to keynote presenters' work where relevant. (These people all have a batallion of titles, which accounts for the length of this post: for once I am not solely to blame ;) ).

The first keynote speaker rather blew me away. Associate Professor Dr. Khairiya Mohd Yusof of Universiti Teknologi Malaysia tears down a multitude of preconceptions, not only with her prolific work that speaks of true dedication and razor-sharp intelligence, but also by being living proof of what Malaysian women can accomplish in science. In an unassuming but accomplished presentation she shared a promising model for active learning in engineering courses, as well as a wealth of further insights.

Next, Prof. Dr. Mohamed Amin Embi introduced online and mobile tools for encouraging active learning. The use of these tools was interwoven into the presentation, giving it a hands-on feel and letting everyone walk the talk. He also elaborated further on Web 2.0 tools (defined here in my own earlier work) hosted on his internationally popular website, jitzu.ukm.my/web20/, which gives a brief introduction to an array of tools. Although this is a field where much of my own early research was focused, I was pleased to find how much the field has been moving forward, and discovered a few new gems.

Prof. Wong Lung Hsiang of Nanyang Technological University, Singapore and Learning Sciences Lab had some fascinating developments to report on in what he terms Seamless Learning, where learning is interwoven into different aspects of life, including but not limited to mobile devices. In fact, his research has specifically focused on engaging learners through physical and outdoor activity, and also involving entire families in the learning process. This really struck me as significant as the mobile learning juggernaut gains speed, and is one of the concepts that made a particular impact on me. I also agreed with Prof. Wong that a process of enculturation is required as learners become more autonomous, but also increase their interaction with others, while fully exploiting the learning experience independently as well as with guidance.

A final treat was Prof. Dame Dr. Wendy Hall, of Southampton University, UK and the Web Science Trust. Another advocate and shining example of women in science, her work on hypertext has its origins even prior to the World Wide Web as we know it. Her presentation gave a concise overview of the history of hypertext, the philosophies underlying "the social machine", as conceived by Sir Tim Berners-Lee, "father" of the Web (and yet another holder of a title) in his seminal work Weaving the Web, and the way forward. This was an absolute geek banquet and I positively savored every morsel.

I officially declare ICAL/Mobilcase 2012 a success. Results of this conference were the following:

1. The structure and scheduling made for a relaxed event, and our own presentation benefited from a kind and committed audience.

2. I think I just might have got my groove back. Which cannot possibly be a bad thing.

3. I am now off to Google what titles might be worth having.

Marie-Therese Claudine Le Roux (HRH?)

Principles Before Products

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Wed, 29 Aug 2012 16:10:00 +0000

Image: closequarter.co.uk

I love technology. There is no way around it. Technology is a living love song to the staggering power of human innovation, past, present and future. Let the record show, though, that in its strictest definition the word essentially refers to "... the entities, both material and immaterial, created by the application of mental and physical effort in order to achieve some value", according to the Wikipedia definition. Technology, in short, means all the stuff people have made to make life just that little bit brighter.

(What better example of technology, incidentally, than Wikipedia... "both material and immaterial" indeed. Just beautiful. And is it becoming obvious that I have been indulging in a bit too much Sophie Kinsella lately? Never mind. Where were we?)

So the thing about technology - especially in the current sense of the word where it refers to sleek, microchipped gadgets - is that there is money in it. Lots and lots and LOTS of money. As an educational technology enthusiast grounded by reason, I try to balance techy zeal with the voice of reason - as found in scholarly research. Yes, gentle reader, scho-lar-ly, as opposed to Shopaholic. Though as it turns out, when it comes to educational technology, the scholarly literature often turns out to be, frankly, unsettlingly shopaholic.

I made this little discovery while researching best practices in online learning. In most fields of education, best practice steals the limelight because it spells out the principles that prove to be tried and true. But then most fields of education do not, let's be brutally honest here, have a massive profit margin. Not so for educational technology, which promises not only profits but also a smorgasbord of dazzling and, for many decision makers, confounding options.

And so it came to pass that my pursuit for scholarly work on best practices in online training turned up a surprisingly limited number of sources. Rather than best practice, educational technology articles tend towards glowing reports of the glittering results to be had from using specific products - many of them proprietary and pricey. Even where technologies were free of charge, the literature remains depressingly fixated on products rather than principles.

Of course there is nothing wrong with using certain products for fun, profit and learning, and I myself am a devotee of several digital products. (As seen in the first paragraph, I would be lost without Wikipedia. Lost. In fact, I started humming the first lines of Let it Be while hyperlinking that very definition of technology, substituting as needed: "When I find myself in times of trouble/ Wikipedia comes to me/speaking words of wisdom/linking me/dum dum dum...."). My point, and I do have one, is that the value is not in the products but in the principles we apply when using them. In fact, any self-respecting course on educational technology includes the mantra that It's Not The Technology But How You Use It, squeezed right in there between the emoticons :-) and virtual group hugs { }. It's just that by the time graduates receive their printable certificates by email they have already started researching how an entire school community quadrupled its GPA, mastered several foreign languages, eliminated bullying and developed perfectly defined abs by kitting every student out with an iPad. Latest-version, of course. Not to exaggerate or anything, but you get the gist.

My small gesture towards placing principles before products has been to gather the scattered threads of literature on best practices in online course development. The article is a start, but it does not pretend to be a final answer. Best practices do document what has worked in the past, but they can also evolve over time and be tailored to each unique context. One of my current projects involves formulating a Manifesto of Best Practices in Online Courses within specific contexts in collaboration with local educators, as a guide to their evolving online training strategies. And yes, there is a collaborative paper on that in the works.

The beauty of such a set of principles is that they are not bound to any product. Sound principles can have value in the use of any technology. Returning to the broad definition of technology above, that can even mean going offline. Or, for the truly extreme.... unplugging completely. Principles before Products. The fundamental things apply.

Acknowledgement: For the style of this post I must credit not the scholarly realm but the inimitable Sophie Kinsella, whose fabulously frothy novels are a welcome counterbalance to academic gravity and whose winningly convincing characters behave in ways that bear no resemblance whatsoever, whether real or ficitious, to my own modus operandi. Ha.

Act!ve Learning and Olympic Yearning

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 30 Jul 2012 15:46:00 +0000

I am having an absolutely wonderful time delving into the subject of active learning. Just when I was about to forget what delicious detective work academic writing can be! Emboldened with the priceless insights of a local research partner I am preparing a presentation for the International Conference on Active Learning 2012, to be held in Malaysia's historic city of Melaka (also spelled Malacca) on September 18-20.

But first, in honour of the Olympics, a multimedia interlude, thanks to the IOC and the wonders of YouTube. Why? We'll get there. The reason is in the final paragraph, but think about it first. That's active learning for you. (Update: The IOC generously shares the opportunity to do their marketing for them, but not to embed their videos elsewhere, so it must be accessed on YouTube. Hmmmm.)

Active learning is a tantalizing concept that, although not always mentioned by name, permeates a great deal of current ideas on learning and - if I dare use the word - pedagogy. (In fact, if we are to split hairs, its role in andragogy is perhaps even more noteworthy - but to avoid splitting hairs let's just call it learning.) As my own day-to-day work is increasingly moving away from "teaching" and towards "training", the idea of active learning makes a comfortable perch for getting some perspective.

There is of course the small matter of opposites: if learning is not active, then what is it? Some would argue that is learning is not active, it is not learning at all. Now there's a little Zen koan to ponder. While there is substantial evidence that much information can be absorbed in a focused, passive state, active involvement seems to offer a more guaranteed return on educational investment.

I am particularly relishing Stern & Huber's Active Learning for Students and Teachers: Reports from Eight Countries. Even more than the reports themselves, I am enjoying the fact that they were commissioned by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). This says a great deal about the way active learning is viewed: as a tool for economic, social and political empowerment and cooperation within and beyond borders. As an individual who straddles the first and third worlds (at least enough to feel justified in using this triply taboo terminology), I notice that the reports all hail from a handful of the most developed nations. The implications are... well, they certainly are worth thinking about.

And that brings us to the video embedded above. It is quite awe-inspiring to partake in the most interactive Olympic Games yet. With its wide coverage on social media and "free" coverage on YouTube, London 2012 certainly does go Citius, Altius, Fortius*. The promo video above made me smile, because it does give a snapshot of life in an emerging economy, and the vibrant innovation that is such a proud trademark of the so-called developing nations. But, being in an emerging economy myself, it took me a while to access the video. And I am one of the lucky ones who can afford the trappings to do so. The video is charming, but it overestimates the wealth, and certainly the bandwidth, that is available beyond the high walls of the developed nations, even as their economies crumble. When it comes to learning, education, pedagogy, call it what you will, the real question is, what will level that playing field? If active learning can do it, I'm all in.

*The larger-than-ever reach of these Games are attracting a lot of attention from conspiracy theorists. My rabbit-trail started with a video of a UFO sighting over the opening ceremony...

Reference:
D. Stern and G.L. Huber, “Active Learning for Students and Teachers: Reports from Eight Countries”, OECD, Peter Lang Paris 1997. Retrieved from http://www.deanproject.eu/turkish/pdfs/23004.pdf.

TEDx KL 2012: Interdependence. 14.07.2012

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 02 Jul 2012 13:33:00 +0000

I get pre-emptive goosebumps whenever I hear the theme music at the beginning of a TED Talk. And I am not alone in this: countless internet users around the world have shared in the illumination of these moving online presentations that are changing the art of public speaking. TED Talks are not about rhetoric, but about Ideas Worth Spreading. With their ideas worth spreading, TED presenters break every rule in the Toastmasters book. Yet they move us as a species so much that we have watched them more than 500 million times.

Image: TEDx KL

No wonder that followers around the world have jumped at the opportunity to independently organize TED events of their own. Dubbed TEDx, these events embrace the TED principles and follow shared guidelines, but are organized entirely by their local communities, with the blessings (and listings) of TED proper. Upcoming events can be found at the TEDx listings, which also include links to live streaming TEDx events. Past TEDx Talks are archived on the TEDx YouTube channel.

It was a very pleasant surprise to find out that a TEDx event is on its way to Kuala Lumpur. TEDx KL 2012: Interdependence boasts a lineup of esteemed international guest speakers, but even more intriguing to me is the rich mix of fascinating Malaysians from the fields of technology, business, science, the arts and miscellanea. The full listing of illustrious and inspiring presenters can be found at on the TEDx KL Speakers page, along with brief bios of each. I for one can't wait to hear and see them (and presumably the most enlightened audience in town) in action. With over a week to go, there is always the playlist of TEDx KL past to stir the blood.

TEDx KL 2012 can be found at www.tedxkl.com. The event will take place at the Temple of Fine Arts in Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur (see map) on Saturday, 14 July from just after noon. Tickets are RM100 online, or RM130 at the door.

Virtuosity

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Sat, 23 Jun 2012 17:52:00 +0000

Allegro ma non tanto

I just got back from a performance of Rachmaninoff's* notorious Piano Concerto No. 3, with soloist Stephen Hough supported by the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra. Notorious, because "The Rach 3", as it is known with shuddering affection by those in the know, is considered among the most demanding piano concertos in the classical realm. Watching Hough soothe, coax and attack the instrument in turns this evening with this fearsome reputation of the piece at the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think that he made it look so easy. And that is why this post is devoted to the subject of virtuosity.

(If you haven't yet, open a new tab to hear Sergei Rachmaninoff himself play the concerto).

Intermezzo

Sergei Rachmaninoff proofing
Concerto No. 3
(Image :Public Domain)

But first an intermezzo, if you will, because this concerto teems with the most delicate little stories surrounding it, which make the music tingle with intertextuality. First composed on Rachmaninoff's family estate in Russia, Ivanovka, the piece "simply wrote itself," as he would later state. Apart from the technical and musical demands, the score for piano is actually physically demanding, with its call for swift and powerful finger work and dual octaves that continue to ring in your ears long after the last notes have faded in objective reality. The story here is that the composer himself may have had an unfair advantage playing his own work: his physiognomy suggests numerous symptoms of a genetic condition that, despite certain drawbacks, results in long, slender limbs and digits - ideal for those intimidating double octaves. What is more, his imminent move to the United States meant that after composition he had no time to actually practice the piece. At least not until he boarded the vessel to America, where he mastered it - on a dummy piano. The concerto became his "calling card" in the States, establishing him as an esteemed pianist as well as composer.

Finale

Virtuosity is readily defined as great skill or style, but both Rachmaninoff's composition and Hough's interpretation are more than that. In the Intermezzo above, we saw the composer's suggestion that the piece "simply wrote itself". The performance was similar in that it seemed to simply play itself: in the greatest moments the soloist, orchestra and audience disappeared and the music took over, with a will unto itself. This harks back to another trait of Rachmaninoff: he often seemed to be improvising when in fact he was taking deep ownership of the work being played. The music took over.

Are you hearing the strains of a leitmotif here? The virtuoso composer gets out of the way so the music can write itself; the virtuoso pianist eats, sleeps and hammers out the Rach 3 until it is effortless enough to play itself. In previous posts I have looked into the rousing duet between talent and expertise, as well as the overlap of "Flow" and the right hemishpere of the brain. One common theme is that vast amounts of practice are the bedrock of mastery. In the words of Michelangelo, "If people knew how long it took to gain my mastery, it wouldn't seem wonderful at all." The other is that once the skills are mastered to the point where they become automatic, that left-brain concentration can surrender to right-brain bliss. The is when the art creates itself.

Conclusion? I would disagree with the definition of virtuosity as great skill or style. More than that: I would say that skill and style miss the point completely. Virtuosity, by my definition, is when skill and style have been polished to shine so brightly that the performer disappears and the performance takes centre stage.

Codetta

Contemplating virtuosity a little question started to gnaw at me. It's all very well for concert pianists and composers and bearded Renaissance men with bad tempers to be virtuosos. But what about the rest of us? Somebody has to play at the very back of the second violins. Somebody has to print the sheet music. Somebody has to quarry for marble, usher patrons to the plush pink seats in which they will go numb before the third movement, serve overpriced beverages in intermission and vacuum the concert hall carpets. It certainly does take all kinds. But how many of us are encouraged to develop our virtuosity? How is virtuosity nurtuted in society? How often do we express our virtuosity in our many realms of life constructively? There is grace and beauty in the virtuosity of so many mundane actions from very ordinary people. Even without applause, it is virtuosity nonetheless, and it is worthy of appreciation. Whether it is the trancelike glide of the seasoned barista, the reality-defying deftness of the urban taxi driver or the everyday martial artistry of the modern mother, there is a point where the performer yields the limelight to the performance. This is where the magic happens. This is the dewdrop of the spiritual realm on the earth. And it is exactly what learning is about.

*Also Rachmaninov in certain versions

Studio 404: The Chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Wed, 13 Jun 2012 11:41:00 +0000

Studio 404:
the inhabitant you are looking for
cannot be found
Image: mtcleroux

For those of us who live on the Web the three little digits 404 carry profound meaning. Profound and not so good. 404, for the information of those who still wander the material world, indicates an error message saying that basically, what you are looking for can not be found*. To boot, slang usage of the term has evolved to include the meaning "clueless". Hence, 404 is an apt theme (and alibi) for this post, which promotes Le Roux's Law of 404:

Cluelessness is a catalyst for learning.

In a grand gesture of cosmic humour my humble home in Kuala Lumpur is none other than Studio 404. The name has turned out to be quite prophetic: since arriving in Malaysia seven weeks ago I have been virtually impossible to find, dashing from one place to the next in a perpetual motion pursuit of the imponderable. What's more, the transition to a new living and working environment, and the most exciting assignment of my life so far, have been the least of my concern against the backdrop of Life at large. My family's ongoing challenges continue to stir up questions that are too daunting even to try and formulate. Throw in notoriously unreliable telecommunications to Africa, explosive legacy issues in the workplace, my natural intolerance to urbanization and the local predilection for culinary neurotoxins, and things get edgy. Garnish with an attempted mugging where my sheer adrenaline-fuelled rage saved my laptop and perhaps my life last Monday night, and I feel almost justified in going 404. Cluelessness just may be okay. An optimist I may be, but to say this has been easy would be an outright lie.

So how is my cluelessness a launchpad for learning? Well, the tension between being '404' and wanting to get things right is a dynamic one. Few of us are contented with being clueless, and we want something better. Here is how I'm putting my tenure at Studio 404 to use:

Equanimity: A major learning curve has been maintaining equanimity against the backdrop of my personal life, which for all the faith and hope and love in the world is laced with a beautiful pain I have no words for. Where my usual inclination is to see the greatness and power of the individual, I have come also to see the infinitesimal, involuntary smallness of our kind. To cry my eyes out all night for someone I cannot relieve of suffering, and then get up, go to work and focus. Perhaps not optimally, but nevertheless, to go on. Life is for the living.

Common Sense Overrides the Senses: In my humble opinion one of the greatest experiences of being human is the feast of the senses. And a sense to which I am particularly partial is taste. I am almost ashamed to admit the importance I assigned to laksa when deciding to live in Malaysia: it weighed almost as heavily as the opportunity to do what I consider to be my life's work. Food - a 360 degree variety of it, served up 24 hours a day - is indeed one of Malaysia's attractions, and one I arrived committed to explore. Unfortunately most commercial foodstuffs in Malaysia are laced with monosodium glutamate (MSG), a neurotoxic flavour enhancer that reduces (or increases?) me almost instantly to a psychotic, immobile monstrosity of twice my normal size. And that's just the immediate effect: while locals do not suffer these immediate side effects, the long-term effects are clear even among younger people. I am content to consider the early warning signs a blessing and crusade for MSG-free food - woe betide the poor local chefs!

The Real Battle: My greatest teachers of the past week were two young men: motorcycle muggers who tried to steal my laptop, attacked me when I wouldn't concede and eventually fled from my unrelenting kicks and screams. These two lads ignited a controlled rage that I am learning to direct towards purposes that serve my needs. They reminded me that I can be brave and strong. And they gave me a stern reminder that rising before the sun to put your body through its paces not only makes you stronger physically and mentally, it feels incredibly good as well. But most of all, they made me ask the very important question, whether I am in the right place at all. How can I possibly thank them for doing me such a great favour?

404? That's me. But I am learning.

*One explanation why geek existentialism is a tautology that can more or less be taken for granted.

MELTA Conference 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Mon, 28 May 2012 14:47:00 +0000

MELTA publication ICT and ELT:
Research and Practices in South East Asia
launched at the event. Image: MELTA

The past two days I have been fortunate enough to attend the Malaysian English Language Teachers' Association (MELTA) Conference in Kuala Lumpur. The theme of this year's conference is Reframing English Language Education: New Environments, New Needs, New Solutions. Working in the English Language Teaching (ELT) field in Malaysia this is an excellent snapshot of the state of our art in the nation, and having been in the country for only a month it is most timely for me personally. I must admit that on the whole I have been impressed with the dedication shown by teachers working in schools under great pressure, who have taken the time to attend. Most definitely their efforts will be rewarded with fresh inspiration and insight when they return to their schools after the event.

In the coming paragraphs I offer a very brief review of the first few sessions of the event that I was able to attend. My more detailed notes (though a bit rough) can be found here, for those who can stomach long, long bullet lists - or would like to know about the remaining sessions.

Royal Lecture and Official Opening

The event was officially opened by Her Royal Highness Princess Zarith Sophia binti Almarhum Sultan Idris Shah, the Royal Patron of MELTA. Following the pomp and ceremony (cavalcade, red carpet and guard of honour) it was disarming to hear that though the Princess followed up her Malaysian schooling with higher education at Oxford University and is an active patron of various projects and charities, she makes an effort to connect with the people through her regular newspaper columns, and even makes time for a round of Angry Birds now and again. In her lecture she very frankly addressed the importance of ensuring high standards of English among all Malaysian school leavers, illustrating with colourful reports from the media. Malaysia's bold future ambitions make English proficiency a key requirement, and a range of initiatives are supporting development in the language. The work of MELTA and its members in this regard was warmly acknowledged. Finally, Princess Zarith's recommendations for fostering English development included diverse learning strategies from field trips to music and drama, fostering creativity and love of the language among Malaysia's learners.

Keynote Address

His Excellency Dato' Khayr Bin Mohamed Yusuf, Deputy Director General of Education in Malaysia, presented the keynote address, where he stressed the relevance of the conference theme. Not only should linguistic knowledge be developed in the language class, he argued, but learners should also build their abilities and independence, placing learning in the framework of learner identity and society, both locally and globally. The vital role of teachers in Malaysia's history was also pointed out (with implied reference to the part teachers played in establishing the spirit of Merdeka that led to independence). Today, in the era of globalized social media, the innovative teacher is once again faced with a re-evaluation of values as national education is transformed through a collaborative process at all levels. Events such as the MELTA conference are the platform for a meeting of minds where teachers can engage more widely in dialogue, seeking to contribute towards addressing the challenges at hand. Teachers' commitment is of the essence, and Malaysia's English teachers were saluted.

Forum: Transnational Perspective on Teacher Education: Evolution, Revolution or Return to the Past?

Four panellists shared their views on the matter of English teacher education in the Malaysian system. The variety of viewpoints made for quite an interesting juxtaposition that was not without its little frictions (though these did not, perhaps, extend beyond the din in my head: an impression of neocolonialist self-flagellation assisted by Prabhu's "Inner Circle" was disconcerting).

The first panellist, Prof. Abdulrashid Mohamed, Chairman of the Malaysian Education Deans' Council, advised that teacher education be reconsidered through a new lens with regard to seven factors. These are: recruitment, the content of teacher education, governance and quality control, research and publication, professionalism, teacher education and in-service teacher training.

Second in line was Dr. John Macalister, Head of the School of Linguistics and Applied Languages at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand, where a select handful of Malaysia's teacher trainees prepare for their careers. As an admitted stakeholder in the import/export of languages/skills, this speaker's presentation was naturally geared towards promoting the arrangement. (Let the record show that I am not a zealous supporter of sending teachers abroad for their entire training for a range of reasons, some of which local educators raised very eloquently during the Q&A session. As to the muddy water analogy it is best I keep my peace like a good little third worlder: I sincerely hope I misunderstood.)

Dr. Raja Mazuin binti Raja Abdul Aziz, from the Institutes of Teacher Education's International Language Campus, provided a dignified counterpoint, offering the case of local teacher education as evidence. She placed the current teacher training curriculum within the perspective of national education policy, demonstrating genuine zeal to nurture the best in the country's teachers on home soil.

The final drumroll came from Dr. Ruanni Tupas of the National University of Singapore, who made an admirable case for the involvement of local teachers as facilitators in curriculum and materials development through grounded research. A report on a major research project across Asian nations served as evidence, and made a strong case for the self-reliance and ownership of ELT processes. It was good to hear a sense of genuine confidence in local teachers as masters of their art.

That's as much as I have space for here, but my complete notes are available - as notes, I promise nothing more - here. On the whole it was an enlightening conference, and a few highlights made it more than worthwhile. My absolute favourite session will be covered with the detail it deserves in a later post. MELTA members went to great lengths to ensure a successful event, and I thank every one of them. I was especially impressed with the promotion of MELTA's social responsibility project at the conference, and the stellar commitment of the volunteers. Also, MELTA publications are extending their reach with the new MELTA-USM ELT in South East Asia Series. The first edition in the series, ELT and ICT: Research and Practices in South East Asia (see image, above), was launched at the conference. Naturally I look forward to learning from authors in the region and sharing a review of the volume in a later post. The sparks of new ideas were also there, and I am grateful to have shared these with ELT colleagues from around Malaysia and, indeed, the world.

Areas for improvement? I believe the event would benefit from (1) scheduling all sessions addressing certain themes in the same room. This would reduce traffic, improve punctuality and prevent simultaneous "double-booked" sessions from the same interest area, (2) inviting presenters to send their audiovisual materials for uploading and testing at least one working day before the event to prevent technology delays and angst, (3) providing more support for presenters during the session, especially with regard to timekeeping and (4) scheduling staggered lunch and tea breaks to reduce crowding. These simple steps would, in my humble opinion, go a long way towards enhancing the impression participants - and especially visitors - have of this very worthwhile event. Meanwhile, I applaud all those who made MELTA 2012 happen and look forward to great new things in future.

Communicative Language Teaching: A Fruitful Revisiting

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Tue, 22 May 2012 11:24:00 +0000

Language education can be a demanding business. So much so that when the mirage of The Perfect Method glimmers on a distant horizon, it is often embraced. More than that: in the history of language teaching the arrival of a new method has, time and again, heralded the outright rejection of All That Went Before. And so it was when Communicative Language Teaching (CLT) rose from the giddy technicolor swirl of the late seventies. CLT certainly opened minds to thrilling new avenues in language learning (or acquisition, as the debate would have it). The trouble was the religious zeal with which it was followed (not to mention the sectarian differences of interpretation).

Prof. William Littlewood at Universiti Malaya
(Image: mtcleroux)

Today it was my pleasure to have a ringside seat to a revisiting of CLT by one of its early proponents, Professor William Littlewood, at University Malaya. (A colleague introduced him to me as someone who had written the book (see References, below), as opposed to a book, on the subject.) What made a particular impression on me was the speaker's perspicacity in allowing his views to evolve - an all too rare gem in academic circles. Entitled Communicative Language Teaching: Where are we now? Where do we go from here?, the presentation gave a useful roundup of the past, present and future of CLT. Below is my very brief (and admittedly somewhat coloured-in) summary of the talk. Any inaccuracies are strictly my own. My less colourful summary can be found here. For the more zealous, the official full text from a previous presentation on the subject is also available elsewhere. Alongside the references, a few links to papers are included here. Please note that these are from around the World Wide Wild West and included strictly as reference rather than as authorized sources.

Where have we come from?

Communicative Language Teaching, like many a Big Idea, was born with an identity crisis. The abandon with which the idea was embraced led early on to a multiplicity of definitions ranging from hazy to outright contradictory, but congregated around the central hub of language as a means of communication - "or something like that", many in the profession would admit. Agreement existed on one point: CLT Was Good - and this was readily taken as a blanket declaration around the world. Task-Based Language Teaching (affectionately known as TBLT, which sounds remarkably like a deli sandwich to the uninitiated) is a more recent, focused subcategory.

Although everybody seemed to follow the communicative fashion (policymakers everywhere just LOVE a silver bullet), it evolved into two streams: the "strong" and "weak" versions, which were in respectively considered more and less exalted by purists. Attention to analysis and grammar, for example, were considered "weak" and inferior. And there lies the rub. In their heart of hearts, language teachers secretly feared that their instruction was not communicative enough - yet when they followed the communicative commandments, things promptly fell apart. Something had to give.

Where are we now?

Reality has a wonderful way of wearing down the sharp edges of a silver bullet. The secret shame of real-world language teachers continued to simmer silently until it was revealed - and absolved - in scholarly work. This was when consideration of the context finally made a welcome return to the language classroom: principles at last took their rightful place, with methods as an expansive "palette to paint from", to quote Diane Larsen-Freeman. In this "post-method" era, it is no longer the method but the principled pedagogy that guides the way.

Where do we go from here?

Professor Littlewood considered four ways forward for CLT:

1. Adapt CLT elements to local practices

2. Integrate CLT elements into traditional approaches

3. Develop a framework of 'context-free' principles for 'context-sensitive' pedagogy

4. Teachers and researchers explore key specific issues for what Littlewood calls "communication-oriented language teaching".

A useful tool (related to point 3) is the Communicative Continuum (Littlewood 2004, 2011), where activities can be placed on a scale of varying communicative qualities. This can place teaching activities in perspective of principles, context and communicative value. The Macrostrategies suggested by Kumaruvadivelu (2003) can also be of benefit, as can Prabhu's concept of "plausibility" (1990).

Conclusion
What struck me about all this was how many teachers, and how many trainers, even, were reared under rigid CLT dogma and have not yet been unshackled from it by information like this. Indeed, undiluted CLT is still the last word in that realm of ELT where citizenship of an English-speaking country and an online TEFL certificate are the sole job requirements. An important reason for writing this post, and passing on the word, is to ensure that language teachers, specifically in ELT, can be liberated from the outdated prescriptions that haunt them. It is time for teachers to emerge into the sunlight of valuing principles, context, their learners and themselves as teachers. Methods are servants, not masters.

Kumaravadivelu, B. 2003. Beyond methods: macrostrategies for language teaching. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Littlewood, W. 1981. Communicative language teaching: an introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Littlewood, W. 2004. The task-based approach: some questions and suggestions. In: ELT Journal, Vol. 58/4, p. 319-324.
Littlewood, W. 2011. Communicative language teaching: an expanding concept for a changing world. In: Hinkel, E. (Ed.) Handbook of Research in Language Teaching, Vol. 2. New York: Routledge.
Prabhu, N.S. 1990. There is no best method- why? In: TESOL Quarterly, Vol 24/2, p. 161-176.

Learning a Language? The Play's The Thing!

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Wed, 09 May 2012 11:50:00 +0000

In language teaching theory we just love the potential of the arts for enhancing learning. In practice this is not always possible on a large scale. This is why it is such a triumph to see an arts project optimised for language learning.

I applaud the students and guiding faculty at the Institute for Foreign Languages (IPBA), Kuala Lumpur, for their production of Shakespeare's King Lear, which I was lucky enough to catch a quick glimpse of this afternoon. As a newcomer (my workplace is on the Institute's campus) I was not privy to the process leading up to the big day, but the product was impressive, not only from a pedagogical point of view but also as a performance in its own right. Three things in particular struck me about the production, and they are briefly discussed below.

Image: IPBA

1. Optimised Language Learning Opportunities

The fabulous spectrum of language learning opportunities in a theatrical production was exploited in the production. This is especially relevant, since the troupe consisted of language learners who are training to be language teachers. Most certainly, this experience will influence their teaching profoundly, more so since it was a resounding success. Aside from the production seen on stage, students were involved in creating the programme, ushering, orchestrating the whole event and also hosting an exhibition displaying their extensive preparations, including extensive research on the play and preparation of costumes and props.

2. Learner Involvement

The involvement and intensive, efficient, on-task team work among students seriously blew me away. From the exhibition team to the ushers and stage hands, not to mention the actors, the cooperation was staggering. Talk about learner independence - the proof of how good a job the faculty in charge did is in the fact that I have no idea who they are: the students did everything. The best kind of teaching (if we can even call it that) is when the teacher becomes invisible and the learning takes centre stage. Pun unintended.

3. Shakespeare As You Like It

Shakespeare's venerable place in the literary canon has unfortunately given the Bard a bad reputation in English-speaking countries. Especially the tragedies are tolerated rather than enjoyed by the audience. Not so in Malaysia-Upon-Avon. If ever there was a contemporary audience to rival the ribald throng of the original Globe Theatre, this was it. The audience was enthralled, lapping up every punchline from the Jester (and every remotely risque word) with vociferous gusto. Every impressive piece of stagecraft was applauded and cheered. No stoic theatre crowd, this. This was Shakespeare as his work was meant to be performed: ribald and raucous and bustling.

I offer a standing ovation to a good production, a great language learning project and an unforgettable teacher training experience.

Disorientation and the Gentle Art of Learning

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 13:40:00 +0000

Over the last few jam-packed days of settling in for my new contract in Malaysia, I have been intensely aware of the learning curve required by new environments. Take us out of our comfort zones and we are forced to learn. Part excitement, part ecstasy, part danger and part potential frustration, disorientation is the perfect opportunity to re-examine old assumptions, explore new possibilities and discard what is, in the new context, irrelevant.

The disorientation of any new undertaking is a steep and stimulating learning curve. Geographic disorientation is especially exciting, because it can involve new scenery, climate, culture, cuisine and all those lovely perks of travel. Even if it is only on a trip to the other side of town. (And especially if it happens to be the "wrong" side of town!)

Neurologically, this disorientation is a wonderful workout for the brain as it rolls into a higher gear, rewarding itself with celebratory endorphin spritzes with each little triumph. The more complex the disorientation, the greater the potential stress - and rewards. The increased potential stress/rewards of moving to the capital of a new country while starting a new work project is especially, er, stimulating.

I am all for embracing the bounty offered by a new environment. In a place like Kuala Lumpur it is all too easy to speak only English, move in only cosmopolitan environments, eat only Western food, deal only with other foreigners, drive around in secluded metal cocoons and visit only seated, flush toilets with dry floors. In which case there is little point to leaving home. The gift of a different location is its differences, and in the rest of this post I am celebrating a few of these with a slideshow of photographs taken over the past few days. These include all kinds of everyday oddities, from the prosaic to the sublime. The slideshow displays below, but if you are wracking your brains to work out what is happening in the pictures, feel free to read the captions here.

In a later post I will be writing more about unlocking the basics of a new language in a new location, with my experiences with Bahasa Malaysia as example. I'll have to learn a bit more first, though!

Sabbatical Review

noreply@blogger.com (Marie-Therese Le Roux) — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 07:16:00 +0000

I am sitting next to a packed suitcase, my online boarding pass freshly printed and foreign expert visa at the ready. Yes, I am on the road again, at least for a while. As my sabbatical comes to an end, I dedicate this post to looking back on what it brought.

Life Plan Collage by mtcleroux, 2010

The Plan

Before embarking on my sabbatical in July 2011 I went to great lengths to justify what some would call a ridiculously long holiday. To be brutally honest, though I had an itinerary and a few courses lined up, the only real plan I had was:

Re-Evaluate My Purpose and Identity, Personally and Professionally

As later blog posts show, the itinerary and courses did not pan out, but the plan certainly did. More than I could have wished for or strategized myself.

The Reality

Two weeks before departing for India, I received word that my grandfather had had a severe stroke. That was when my itinerary changed and my sabbatical truly began. For the next five months I went to live with my grandparents, supporting my grandfather's needs as well as managing a large household until things returned to a (different kind of) normal.

With everything settled by mid-December, I was preparing to head abroad on a new contract when my brother sustained severe lung and brain injuries in a vehicle accident. Again, plans changed and I stayed with the family as he dipped in and out of a coma. After four uncertain months he surpassed expectations when he started sitting up and looking around curiously. He is now undergoing intensive rehabilitation to recover independent functioning, and making a remarkable recovery to the best of his old self.

The Results

Despite its connotations, the key goal of a sabbatical is to provide a restorative and enriching time of growth. Contrary to expectations (mine, at least), my sabbatical was neither relaxing nor professionally productive. Yet restorative and enriching it certainly was, despite the major stresses that precipitated its course. As an experiment in lifelong learning, the past nine months have been extremely well spent.

What was it that I learned in nine months outside my normal profession? For the sake of convenience I will follow the life categories suggested by author Dr. John F. Demartini in his book The Breakthrough Experience. Here we go.

Spiritual

My spiritual views are deep and strong and fundamentally unswerving. However, the comfort zones of my life have not often put them to the test - certainly not at breaking point. Point-blank confrontation with the life-death tightrope is the ultimate opportunity to walk the talk. The strength of my convictions has been a lifeline. An important shift is that where I used to feel I was on a lonely path, I now know that though I'm certainly not on the organized religion highway, I am not alone.

Mental

As an intellectual/academic/professional exercise I can't boast much about my sabbatical. However, the mental realms do offer other challenges. One is that of everyday problem-solving. Managing a large household with a frail resident over the past months, my problem-solving muscles have started bulging. Among the many "menial" tasks I have done, I suspect my most important contribution was streamlining inefficiencies and basically making things better for our patients, residents and staff. Another mental challenge is that of controlling the mind when faced with adversity. Under the circumstances, of course there have been dark days, but on the whole I have sustained a constructive (if not always sunnily positive) outlook. This is not a matter of temperament (certainly not in my case!) but of discipline.

Vocational

To me there is no such thing as a job. There is only a vocation, and this is always far bigger than one's job and even one's career. Vocational clarity was at the core of my sabbatical quest. Though circumstances elbowed this out to the periphery of my awareness, the step away from my professional focus has turned out to improve my vision and is concluding my professional retreat with a veritable fireworks display. Much of the time I felt professionally paralyzed by the constant stresses and demands on my time from my environment, not to mention the perpetually closed doors of the job market in my home country. In time, though, the good did come.

After my brother's accident I was adamant to establish a local professional practice that would allow me to stay near my family while he recovers. The result is The Living Learning Group, a small educational consultancy based in Pretoria East specializing in educational training and English as a Second Language (ESL) support. This will remain my local professional base for future projects. Meanwhile a phenomenal opportunity to assist with teacher training came my way from a foreign Ministry of Education (more about that later). As a short-term contract, this will be my first major project, equipping me with better expertise when I return to do the same in South Africa. At that point, the impact of having worked with two brain patients will also play a large part in my future work. In short, stepping away from my job was the best possible thing I could do for my vocation.

Financial

For most of us mere mortals, there is a small catch to taking time off work: No Work, No Pay. After six years of supposed hardship postings in the Middle East, I have been blessed with the opportunity (not always seized, I admit) to build up some savings. I had planned for a comfortable six month sabbatical, and came in marginally over budget. The additional months did make a dent, but I am grateful to say that thanks to moderately good planning and free room and board from the family am still well afloat.

The financial virtue of taking time off without pay is that it forced me to be a bit more meticulous about my budget and planning. Family administration problems also encouraged me to set up detailed records of every aspect of my finances, a last will and testament, living will and insurance policies for my specific needs. I even made a substantial investment in bonds and started a new savings investment. On the whole, I feel considerably more financially secure than ever before, even despite having been without an income for three quarters of a year. And grateful to be in this position! Deeply grateful!

Familial

One of the reasons why I have never seriously considered starting a family is the responsibility involved. Well, apparently I was not meant to dodge those responsibilities. I have lived alone almost half my life now, mostly in foreign countries, and living with family was a major adjustment. Looking at my packed suitcases and the prospect of my own little singleton home again, I have mixed feelings. I like being in charge of my own habitat, I really do. But I will miss waking up before dawn and taking my mom coffee in bed, only to sit there chatting for an hour. Having people to cook for (another skill I have been building over the past months). Having a truly loving and supportive environment. Through no fault of my parents, my childhood was not not an easy one. These past months of urgency have mended many old wounds, and this has been one of the great gifts of an apparent adversity. My heart has always been open to anonymous humanity, but this past time has opened it to my own family. It is the first time that I am going abroad rather than fleeing, and that says a great deal.

Social

The demands of my sabbatical time have made a "normal social life" roughly impossible. People my age are generally looking after the next generation rather than the former, while the few die-hard singles are either partying or working too hard to bother. Then again, as a long-time expatriate a "normal social life" has rarely been on my agenda. Still, people interaction has played a very important part in my time here. Managing the household there have been key relationships to nurture - some with my elders, who can be set in their ways to say the least, some with staff, whose role in a large house with two elderly residents is crucial, and many with the public. I have truly felt under grace as my understanding of nurturing relationships has grown. I have made mistakes: a few hefty but short-lived skirmishes, several instances of helping too much and being too nice (a common vice of mine), but I trust my learning far outweighs my failures in this department.

Physical

I cannot over-emphasize how important my physical wellbeing is to every other aspect of my life, and the past months have been a case in point. Naturally, this is even more crucial in times of great stress. I started the sabbatical period yielding to social demands, which often involve delicious food with disastrous consequences. The more I stood my ground and ensured that healthy food was always available to share, the better I felt physically, mentally and emotionally. Others also benefited from better nutritional habits. Not only that, but sound self-care became self-sustaining and even, believe it or not, addictive. Over the past weeks I have had most of my exercise from running around to prepare for this sudden trip, but I would like to incorporate more regular, enjoyable and especially outdoors exercise into my days and return to a brief morning yoga routine which has somehow fallen by the wayside. On the whole, though, physically this has been a productive time.

Conclusion

Was my sabbatical a success? Well, it was not in any way what I expected it to be. Looking back, though, this has been a pivotal point in my life, especially with respect to vocation. I am extremely grateful that I had the opportunity to take the time off, awed that departing from my itinerary would set such a miraculous course and deeply restored to take on new challenges. It is an experience I would recommend to anyone who has the opportunity - and even more so to those who can create the opportunity. That alone is a noteworthy accomplishment.