June 2020
This month's voice:
Lucinda Estrada, "The Narrators' Voices"
Introduction
By Travis Frank
Co-editor, KOTESOL Voices
The circumstances under which I met Lucinda Estrada were—surprise, surprise—virtual. Given the fact that it is very ill-advised for organization members to meet up in person in these testing times, it is hardly surprising that our acquaintance was facilitated by social media. That being said, however, I must still admit that our interactions in a virtual space were filled with the same amount of warmth and zeal as one would encounter when seeing the animated expressions of a person standing right in front of you. I came to understand that Lucinda is energetic, caring, helpful, humble, intelligent, experienced, and passionate about what she does, as well as passionate about helping showcase the accomplishments of others and putting the limelight on them. I am one of the benefactors of this, as evidenced by how many of my academic papers she has showcased in the Seoul Chapter Facebook group. As a token of appreciation, I would like to showcase one of her literary accomplishments, and I hope you enjoy reading this piece that she has written and generously shared with us as much as I did! What is most striking about this piece is its sharp candidness and fixation with what is absent from the modern Korean EFL classroom experience. The urge to acknowledge that there is an onus that rests on all of our shoulders as teachers to use our voices more effectively is a great point of self-reflection as well as a jolting call to action!
The Narrators’ Voices
By Lucinda Estrada
My voice is not welcome in my classroom. It is loud. It is culturally intrusive. It has opinions and preferences and even a sexual orientation. It talks about things that aren’t talked about in Korea. It is individualistic. It comes from a body that doesn’t exactly fit the image Korea has of English speakers or English teachers. It carries the weight of a culture that Koreans don’t associate with English speakers either. But I know that my voice does represent a great many English speakers... So if I don’t speak, how will my students ever know that?
I’ve heard from other English teachers that our voices shouldn’t be heard in the classroom. We should teach the English language, without ever touching on the millions of voices who carry the narrative of that language. Perhaps they’re right in a way. There is a master narrative after all. And though the counter-narratives are nearly innumerable are they a part of language learning?
The master narrative of the English speaking world stems from the history of the ones who had the loudest voices. Their voices were backed by money, by armies, by force. And then it went on like that simply because it was the way it had always been done. But the English speaking world doesn’t look the way it used to. The loudest voices haven’t really gotten quieter, but there are now a multitude of voices that by sheer numbers are stronger in volume. Not a new master narrative, but instead many synchronous narratives. And yet the perception of who we should be remains the same.
Our voices are needed in the classroom. We don’t just teach grammar, or syntax, or how to say hello, goodbye, and nice to meet you. We teach culture, and norms, and mores, and most of all we teach our students that they are represented in the narrative of the English speaking world as much as their teachers. Our voices are unique. They are culturally diverse. We have opinions, preferences, and backgrounds. We talk about things that our students might want to be able to talk about, and perhaps English is an avenue to explore unknown pathways. Our bodies look like what English speakers look like, because English speakers come from everywhere, and look like everyone, and making sure that we accurately present that is important to prepare our students to traverse the English speaking world.
Our voices are needed in the classroom. Our voices are needed in our academic communities. Our voices are needed in our academic journals. We are not forcing diversity. We are simply existing. And our voices are the evidence of our existence.
About the Author
Lucinda Estrada is a middle school teacher at Yeoksam Middle School. She has been living and working in Korea for four years and moved to Seoul from Daejeon in 2018. KOTESOL's Seoul Chapter has been instrumental in introducing her to the teaching community in Seoul. She hopes to work towards making the Seoul Chapter as easy to navigate as possible and bring up-to-date and helpful information to all its members. She has a bachelor's degree in multi-cultural education from Evergreen College and a MATESOL from New School, New York, where she studied under Scott Thornbury and Michael Griffin. Lucinda also functions as the web editor for the Seoul Chapter's KOTESOL page.
