Critical Approaches to Discourse Analysis Across Disciplines (CADAAD)

Tongue in Cheek?

I teach, I rest, I study, I live. That’s how simple it is to survive in this world of sudden twists and turns. There are no formulas to follow, no spiels to rattle off, no contingency measures to remember—no frills, no fakes. That’s my bohemian rhapsody.

Recently, that way of life seems to have been altered in ways I can hardly understand. All of a sudden, I morphed into a new person even my very eyes can hardly believe. The fear-provoking potency of oculesics, the incalculable gesticulations powered by kinesics, the tightly guarded proxemics, the mercurial huffs and laughs… all of them have slowly lost their curse-cum-charm. Now, everything is rounded off till the last significant figure. Ambiguity, feigned tact, and compassion appear to have permeated down to my marrow.

The kilometric sentences that used to pepper my idiolect have all been squeezed together to the “bare essentials”: subject and verb. That of course entails the heedful deletion of pre and post modifiers. And mind you, my penchant for polysyllabic and lexically accurate words has been eclipsed by vague, ambiguous, and tautological words that I used to shun.

What brought me to this state? My mind can only blame my raison d’ etre, my bread and butter: teaching English.

Teaching English, per se, is a liberating experience. It widens one’s horizon, and it opens the door to a lot of possibilities and opportunities. However, when viewed more closely, one can see that it’s double-edged. It has a certain kind of power that can unaffectedly tittivate one’s doggerel, and a curse that can cripple one’s flair for clear and educated prose. Unfortunately, it’s the latter that has “infected” me.

Honestly, it was just a couple of months ago when I started to feel the symptoms of this contagious “communication disorder.” This illness, according to language scholars, is not rare. If you’re familiar with legalese, journalese, and motherese, this disease might be easy for you to understand. It is called “teacherese.” For your reference, please take some time to read the excerpt of my research (which I summarized below) regarding this communicable disease.

Etiology: Teaching English as a foreign language—in my case, to Koreans. Being exposed to people whose linguistic ability is as bare and as indistinct as a silhouette year in and year out can cause damage to one’s overall communicative competence.

Prognosis: Continued exposure to “pathogens” leads to deficiencies ranging from being voluble to being curt which can further advance to being inarticulate.

Treatment options: complete isolation, removal of the pathogens or therapy sessions.

Read: Stop teaching (Koreans) or attend colloquia. Conversations with native or quasi-native speakers of the English language can also help. Read, watch English movies.

Prevention: Prophylaxis

Read: Be prepared. Be ready. Teach only if you know the ins and outs of language teaching.

Summed up in layman’s terms, I’m sick but I’m not dying. I can still get back on my feet and reclaim my old self: glib, footloose and fancy free.

How about you?

Oliver Geronilla

English Instructor

Han Maum Academy

Philippines