And then it drags on a little more.
My little darlings had the listening exam today, which also means that that’s their final official English exam with our programme. From now on, their English, which doesn’t have to be exceptionally good to do well in the ESL exam, will decline as they delude themselves that they are sufficiently linguistically competent not to need to make any effort in English classes ever again. But their own ignorance will mislead them because they’ve done so well in previous ESL exams and will probably average a good B at least without understanding that the exam is a fairly mechanical exercise in which it’s quite easy to score well. Thus because my students have never done and will never do any real, advanced English which requires any real thinking, they’ll never know just how much of a chasm their is between their English and mine. On the other hand, I suspect that their English and that of their native English speaking contemporaries may not be quite as disparate as I might expect.
I’ve been growing even more bored over the past two weeks and wanting to resume lessons again because this whole idea of study classes is a complete and utter waste of time. I can go round at the start of the class to make sure they’re doing something, but the smart money says that for the remaining 44 minutes of class time after I’ve done my rounds, they’re just arsing about. That page which they were on at the start of the class is still the one that they were on at the end of the lesson.
I skimmed my way through some more of Human Traces and then glanced at the rest, concluding the book is a big, fat vanity novel desperately in need of an editor brave enough to tell Sebastian Faulks that Select and Delete are his friends, and brave enough to ask who his audience is supposed to be if it isn’t the author.
Meanwhile, blue sky and sunshine has been in short supply here as we go through yet another grey, hazy day. It might rain; it might not.