February 2023
This month's voice:
Angela Jeannette, Ben and Me: Teacher Training with a Great Dane
Introduction
Lindsay Herron
Editor, KOTESOL Voices
This month's contributor, lifetime member Angela Jeannette, brings to our publication a very unique and interesting perspective: that of a teacher of German as a foreign language! I first met Angela when she joined the Gwangju-Jeonnam Chapter about seven years ago; and while she has since returned to her native Germany, I am delighted she continues to share her virtual presence and perspectives. Her piece below is an insightful and entertaining exploration of how she became a better teacher by becoming a student. Indeed, it's clear that a reflective teacher can find opportunities for growth in unexpected places—including adventures (and misadventures) in learning to train a Great Dane!
Happy reading!
Ben and Me: Teacher Training with a Great Dane
Angela Jeannette
When I was asked whether I might consider contributing a piece to KOTESOL Voices, there was no doubt what I would write about, as I have two major passions: accompanying people on their way to becoming competent users of German as a foreign/second language, and becoming a competent dog owner.
For the past two years, I’ve had the privilege of living with Ben, a gentle, patient, undemanding Great Dane who joined me in June 2020 when he was three months old and who currently weighs around 55 kilos at a shoulder height of approximately 82 cm. I did not deliberately choose this special breed; it was more of a situation that felt like it was supposed to happen, as it had been my dream for years to own a dog again.
Since Ben joined me, I’ve been thinking a lot about similarities I’ve noticed between learning how to communicate and interact with a dog and learning (and teaching) a new language. The following thoughts are entirely grounded in my own subjective experience and involve a blending of different perspectives: learning how to work with my dog, learning how to teach my dog, learning how to teach my students, and how to learn a foreign language.
Right from the start, it was clear that we would have to work with one or more professional trainers. Not only did I obviously not want to share my life for the coming years with a disobedient, pony-sized nuisance, but I also came to realize that there is a lot of prejudice against large dogs. Also, the part of Germany we live in effectively requires dog owners to pass a special licensing exam comprising both a theoretical and a practical part.
To reach these goals, I needed to acquire a whole new skill set enabling me to effectively communicate and interact with the dog. However, due to my heavy workload of around 37 teaching hours per week and also to the COVID-19 restrictions, guided training wasn’t possible for several months after Ben came to live with me. While we did some work on our own based on what I read or saw on the internet and in books, we didn’t receive structured guidance for a period that was actually far too long.
Today, Ben and I have established a comfortable, harmonious living routine, and our everyday outings have become much less stressful and much more enjoyable for both of us. We also passed the official license exam—with praise from the examiner. The road to success wasn’t easy, however, as the following notes may show.
Our Varied Experiences with Trainers
The Lecture Approach
Our first encounter with a dog trainer, who eventually referred our wonderful vet to me, was anything but successful. During the first session, which took place in our living room, I just sat and watched and listened most of the time, as the trainer just sat and lectured on everything that a dog Ben’s age should be able to do but that he couldn’t, and what skills he lacked, and what he did wrong. The trainer drew a dramatic picture of the costly problems an insufficiently trained, disobedient dog who might eventually weigh around 60 kilos or more would cause. He didn’t ask us to perform any activities or tasks with Ben other than a very simple exercise involving food and eye contact, aiming at strengthening our bond.
The second session was an outdoor group session, and Ben was very agitated because of all the other dogs and the new surroundings. Without any time to calm down by walking around to get familiar with the place and to sniff the other dogs from a distance, we were to start on the exercises right away. We were given the same tasks as the other, more experienced, older dogs, so it was no wonder that Ben couldn’t perform them. Unfortunately, the trainer took this as an opportunity to point out, again, all our faults and mistakes, but this time with everyone present. I got very frustrated and angry, and I just turned away and left after telling the trainer that I was well aware of that but we needed help, not humiliation.
Sometimes I think back on this experience when starting a course with new students, as I feel it is so important for a teacher to try and get a sound understanding of their students’ needs and current level of competence at the very beginning. In my opinion, it is vital to take time—as much time as the course setting permits—to gauge the learners’ actual level of competence with regard to the different language skills by making them actually use the language in carefully administered tasks. There is a progression of developmental stages that cannot be ignored without harm, and encouraging learners to use what they’ve mastered so far as much as possible, right from the start, helps avoid expectations that are either too low or too high. It also enables the teacher to know how to adapt the existing framework of any given course to the actual needs of the students.
The Psychological Approach
The second trainer we worked with, whom our wonderful vet referred me to, was a behavioral therapist, which I found much more helpful because her approach involved psychology. She insisted we meet outdoors, and we walked around while she observed us and asked a lot of thoughtful questions. She gave precise, specific pieces of advice, which we practiced immediately, and she always assigned homework.
Already, the first thirty minutes with this trainer were immensely helpful, especially because she also praised some of the things that went well. This was a huge relief as, apparently, I was not a complete failure with my dog. This gave me a huge boost of confidence, and I felt much more motivated to keep working with him. Something I also found very helpful was that she always included interpretations of actions and situations from the dog’s perspective, aimed at explaining why certain commands or exercises were efficient or not.
This trainer always assigned specific tasks, watched us perform, and then gave criticism or advice that was oriented toward improvement. She showed appreciation for our efforts, which made me feel seen and heard as a person. Working with this trainer reminded me to pay attention to when and how to give instructions, point out mistakes, and administer corrections. Most people are their own worst critics, and there is no need to make them feel more insecure, or even ashamed, than they already are. Encouraging learners and highlighting progress and success, however small, can go a long way in motivating them on their journey of becoming more confident and independent—whether it is as dog companions, language users, or teachers.
The Boot Camp Approach
We met the third trainer at a sort of daycare center for dogs. She was a very no-nonsense person who immediately took action when things didn’t go the way they should. Like the second trainer, she would assign specific tasks during walks, accompany us and watch, and then give immediate corrections. She expected us to apply her comments immediately, and if I didn’t grasp quickly enough how to do things, she would take over so that I could watch, which made it much easier because I could visualize and then copy her behavior.
This was very helpful for me, and sometimes I think back to that experience when I notice my students struggling, for example with how to analyze sentences and texts, or how to organize a text. Instead of just explaining verbally or showing them a finished product, it can be more efficient to have them watch while I go through these processes myself and explain what I’m doing while I’m doing it.
With this trainer, lessons always took place outdoors, either on the street or in the woods, and she designed activities on the spot depending on the situation we were in. She particularly emphasized how intentions influence not just body language but posture in general. If my goal or direction is clear, I should follow it unwaveringly, and the dog will perceive and act according to this conviction that I transmit.
Ben didn’t like working with this trainer very much—probably because she was so strict—but he changed unwanted behavior (such as making a fuss when getting into the car) in no time. To be honest, I also not only felt intimidated by her but also often stupid, because so much of what she pointed out was rather obvious once I thought about it. Still, she wasn’t judging —due, I suppose, to her “adapt or perish” approach—which was also something I appreciated.
Sometimes I think of this trainer when I feel that I am being too understanding with my students. While I strive to be considerate of my learners’ circumstances at any given moment, I am working on finding the right balance between severity and gentleness. Sometimes a “kick” is necessary or even more efficient in order to bring someone back on track or help them move forward.
Looking Back
Reflecting on the progress Ben and I made makes me grateful for the support we’ve had along the way, not only from trainers but also from the other Great Dane owners whom we meet once a week. Now that we’re more seasoned and have both acquired a solid skill set, it is much easier to build on that foundation and integrate new competencies on our own. I believe it is the same with learning a foreign language: once one has a certain base for vocabulary, structures, and especially strategies, one can advance more easily on one’s own. But in the beginning, there should both be peers and teachers involved for guidance and interaction as well as moral support.
This support was especially valuable to me, as I had absolutely underestimated how much time was necessary to get even basic commands embedded. My first months with Ben felt like a 24/7 training session, and sometimes I thought there was no progress at all. I should have been stricter during our walks, correcting unwanted behavior and enforcing obeisance, but I didn’t always have the energy for it. Continually working with the dog during our walks, on top of the lessons I taught each day (usually for around seven hours), was very tiring, which was exacerbated by my expectations as to what Ben should or should not be able to do at his age at that moment. Strangely enough, none of the trainers talked about the importance of patience and small steps. It often felt like we were supposed to be able to master everything immediately. Only from contact with the other owners of Great Danes did I feel encouraged in this respect—when they shared their experiences, for example, or when I watched them and their dogs during our meetings. Perfection takes time and is sometimes arguably not even necessary.
Many of my students appear to approach language learning in the same way. They have a goal and want to reach it as soon as possible, putting themselves under a lot of pressure. Not everyone can accept that it takes time for the brain to process and integrate new information, and that there often is a delay between understanding a language structure and being able to use it correctly. Discipline and practice are needed; whenever learners complain that they are not advancing as fast as they would like to, or when they seem sad about their progress, I try to encourage them by reminding them of the value of a long breath. I also became more understanding of students who cannot devote as much time to learning as would be optimal. Sometimes circumstances are difficult; most people do what they can, but there are limits as to what may be possible at that moment in time, and that affects progress.
In conclusion, raising Ben and working with him has strengthened my opinion that teaching and learning are more of a unit than two separate items. They are intertwined; they involve reflection and adaptation, and they influence each other. Experiencing both sides of the process enables teachers to appreciate the learners’ perspective and to grow, professionally and personally—even when training a dog.
Bonus
Fun Fact 1: Ben doesn’t know how strong he is. I never encourage him to pull when the leash gets caught up somewhere, and it is really funny when it gets entangled in a tuft of grass or on a low-hanging branch, and he just stands there, with his 55 kilos, and whimpers, waiting for me to deliver him.
Fun Fact 2: Ben understands commands in German, French, and Korean. (Can you guess what commands those might be?) I just use the words that came most naturally to me in certain situations, and for some reason, English words don’t. I find that very odd, as English is the language I use most, after German.
Fun comments we get to hear from people. Which one is your favorite?
- May my daughter/son/I ride on him?
- There’s a dog you can work at eye level with.
- He’s taller than a miniature pony!
- That’s a cow, not a dog!
- I thought dinosaurs were dead.
- Can you really handle him?
- I am not afraid of large dogs; I am just respectful.
- What a cute little lap dog.
- There’s a beastie! (Makes more sense in German: a “Tierchen” is the diminutive of “Tier”, i.e., a little animal)
- Big dogs think of themselves as small, don’t they?
- Now that's a giant!
About the Author
I’ve always found language fascinating, and I consider it a huge blessing that I could spend most of my professional life abroad after getting a master’s degree in general and comparative linguistics. I enjoyed not only teaching German as a foreign language but also trying to learn the languages of the countries I lived in. From 2000 until mid-2019, I had the privilege of working in Madagascar, Ivory Coast, Indonesia, and South Korea. Those positions included teaching responsibilities for the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) and the Goethe-Institut (the globally active cultural institute of the Federal Republic of Germany), activities related to scholarship advisory services and university cooperation for the former and leadership in the language course sector for the latter, as well as several years as a visiting/assistant professor at two Korean universities.
Since leaving Korea in July 2019, I’ve been living in northern Germany, happily teaching online even before the pandemic started. I find it extremely rewarding to accompany learners on their journey to become more competent, confident speakers of German, and I am looking forward to this year’s challenge: learning how to teach literacy to adults.
For six years, I considered Gwangju my home, and I am eternally thankful for the inspiration and interaction that KOTESOL and especially the Gwangju-Jeonnam Chapter provided. I wish there were more online opportunities to participate in their events for professional development, even from abroad.
