Translanguaging in Arts Education

I am an arts educator. My charge is not only inspiring the creative spark in adolescents, but making sure our English Language Learners have equal access and opportunity to participating in the creative spirit.

When you are in charge of a school theater organization, you shoulder the weight of so many things, artistic decisions being only one facet of a much bigger picture. You’re also ruminating about the well-being of a large and diverse collection of adolescent minds and bodies, the success of the program as a whole, and the impact your efforts have on the school community.

This spring, we mounted our spring production of CHICAGO: Teen Edition. It was a bit of a daring choice, particularly in light of the fact that some of the themes are a bit racy for a rather traditional community who are largely from immigrant families, many of them are learning English for the first time. Several of my cast members did not speak English when they arrived this year. They were quietly dealing with life-altering challenges while they tried to “normalize” themselves in this new life paradigm. Despite the challenges, we somehow found each other and they took on the extra added challenge of being in a musical for the first time, singing, dancing, and delivering dialogue in a language that they barely understood.

No matter what language they speak,
they are just kids trying to learn.
It is up to us to give them the space and tools to do just that.

The whole experience was life-changing, for all of us. If it taught me anything, it was this: if a child is interested in learning, they will learn, as long as you give them the tools to do so. So what does that mean, teaching kids how to sing, dance and act in a language that is not their own? 

Translanguaging

Translanguaging is a newer pedagogical term in education, and it is an important tool to use when teaching English language learners (ELLs). Basically, it is the ability for students to move fluidly between languages in the classroom. All at once, they think in multiple languages, and their home language is honored as part of the learning process. I became familiar with this term in a recent professional development seminar and it made a lot of sense to me, given the large majority of my students are either bilingual or ELLs. Spanish is the dominant language they speak, although we do have a lot of Haitian Creole/French speakers as well.

Even though I am not fluent in their language, I have gained a lot of the basics in the last five years. My goal is to present my content in a way that is (hopefully) familiar and puts their anxieties at ease so they can feel comfortable going on a crazy creative journey. I want them to know that I care, I’m trying to connect with them, and while I have lots to teach them, they also have lots to teach me. What’s most important is the connection and trust that is built within the classroom.

Translanguaging creates a more engaging environment: they see that I am trying to teach them where they are, and I am acknowledging that they are intelligent young humans who are simultaneously learning English and complex content. As time passes, signs of more understanding emerge; I can see it in their eyes, in their confidence and willingness to take a risk. I can see immediately whether they are plugged in, or they are off somewhere in the distance. I live for the “aha!” moments when the lights are turned on.

In dance class, I’ve started to incorporate these strategies:

• Content words are posted on the board and the walls, which I refer to and ask for vocabulary translations as I discuss new movement concepts.
• My bilingual students are enlisted to translate longer explanations.
• Slideshows are displayed in both English and Spanish side by side so they can read what I’m talking about as I introduce new concepts.
• I using as much of their language as possible, so they hear familiar phonemes and words. This also helps my English speakers learn some new words in a different language.
• Google Translate has become my best friend for real time conversations and parent conferences.
• Written assessments are in English and Spanish, and I ask for the answers to be in English. They can think things through in their language, but get the translation practice for their responses.
• I do lots of demonstration.
• Often, I’ll ask them how to say things in their language: my favorite phrase is “Como se dice…” (How do you say…) and often, they get a little stuck and have to think hard about the word for a concept they don’t really know in their own vernacular.

Ultimately, I’m trying to make everyone feel at home in my space, even if our communication takes a little more time and effort. I want to earn their trust so that they will feel comfortable stepping out of the box and tap into their creativity.

Translanguaging in the rehearsal studio

My dance classroom is also a rehearsal studio for our shows after school. After our first read-through of the script, we start to break down each scene, song, and dance one bit at a time. That process is hard enough with all students who speak fluent English. For beginner ELLs, you have to give translation and context to everything they see, particularly idiomatic expressions and language that is not in an adolescent’s wheelhouse. It is a whirlwind of complexity. These are just a few examples of how we navigated the journey from translation to performance (names changed to protect their identities):

1. Inez, a beginner ELL, had to learn a monologue in Hungarian, a language neither one of us understood. We had to Google Translate into both English and Spanish, then listen to the program “speak” the words. She managed to memorize the monologue fairly quickly and was able to phonetically recite her lines.
2. Cortes played a recurring character with a bunch of short lines in English. Not only did he have to understand the meaning, but he had to use the proper inflection so the audience would understand the dialogue through a rather thick accent. Often, I’d write out words and phrases phonetically, but since their pronunciation of the letter “I” sounds like “ee,” I took that into consideration and explained those differences between the two languages. I learned that it is really hard for untrained kids to break those speaking habits, but he spent a lot of time practicing and checking in with me as he worked on the lines. In performance, the audience understood everything he said, and his personality absolutely shone through in his delivery.
3. Analise, one of my bilingual kids, was one of my go-to translators. She graciously wrote out a translation of Cortes’ lines on index cards, just in case he wanted to deliver them in his native tongue. Lo and behold, he was determined to deliver the lines in English. My heart grew three sizes that day; talk about being brave.
4. Marlena was fluent in both Spanish and Creole. She had a slightly better handle on English than the others, and her multilingual skills were very useful when talking to my choreographer, who also spoke fluent Creole as well as a few other Haitians in the cast. She amazed me as she fluidly switched between the three languages and how much English she tried to use. She’d always start talking to me in her native tongues, and when I got stuck, she’d immediately try switching to English.

In rehearsals, all instruction was demonstrated or translated over and over again. It’s quite a challenge, especially when your comprehension in their language is just as cursory as theirs is of English. Despite that complication, when you commit to teaching them, there’s something sort of magical that happens over the course of weeks and months. You start to anticipate what they need to know, and learn what they are asking, even if you don’t fully understand every word they say. As they develop more vocabulary, especially within the repetition of your content area, they respond more automatically, with less confused looks. There’s a shorthand that you develop; sometimes, one or two words is enough to help you connect and be productive. When the one or two words is not enough, peer translators come in very handy.

Another lovely side effect of all the effort is that as the kids worked together, they developed their own relationships that got even stronger as they helped each other. Beautiful friendships blossomed right before my eyes, because they were learning and developing together. I saw kids stepping up, jumping out of their comfort zone to take on the role of teacher and peer mentor, helping their friends accomplish amazing things. As they chattered in their common languages, I saw the gears turning, and the ones being helped also became teachers. They’d correct each other and the epiphanies glimmered, just as I’d seen in students for decades.

This is the most important takeaway: no matter what language they speak, they are just kids trying to learn. It is up to teachers to give them the space and tools to do just that.

It all comes together

Despite a long and winding road to tech week, one that was fraught with anxiety wondering whether this would ever come together, the last few rehearsals were in exactly the right place. By the last dress rehearsal, I knew that they were all ready; they just needed a captive audience to push their performances over the top.

Our final dress rehearsal was a morning preview of act one for the freshman class and special education students. Of course, the 9th graders are a hodgepodge of immaturity, disconnection and inexperience, but that’s exactly why we needed to do this event. As arts educators, our job is to teach them how to behave and respond as an audience. This skill is just as important as learning how to be a performer or technician. Many of our students had never seen any type of live theater – ever.

Once the audience was loaded into the auditorium, I went through my welcome spiel; what we were doing, how they needed to focus, that the lights would be changing all the time, that calling out friends’ name was not acceptable, that they should applaud at the end of a scene or song when they wanted to show appreciation, and so on. They needed explicit instruction to learn behavior that we had always taken for granted.

When the lights dimmed, I could hear a wave of adolescent energy rumble. The curtain opened, and all the performers were in place, ready to go. The narrator introduced the first lines, and the first downbeat dropped. As All That Jazz progressed, I could see the audience being taken in to the setting. At the end stinger and final pose, the crowd erupted with applause and approving squeals of delight. A few random kids on the side yelled “I LOVE THIS!!” What a rush to know that they are responding so positively to something so transformative. Since we were only teasing them with act one, they left at intermission. Some said they would definitely be coming to see the whole show.

Another opening, another show

Ultimately, our little production of CHICAGO: Teen Edition was an huge educational success. I feel like I learned more about teaching and being able to meet the needs of students than I have have in any of my past productions. The challenge was immense, but when I saw the cast show up every day, scripts and pencils in hand, ready to learn, I knew I was up for it. Even more amazing was their transformation as they navigated each cue, dance number and transition: from a ragtag group of adolescents to a company who took ownership of our production. Their pride was palpable and mine was overwhelming.

Our school district has always been a hub for families who have immigrated from all over the world. The students who walk into our schools aren’t just a number or test score; they are intelligent humans who have gone through more trauma and life changes that most of us could ever imagine. They are looking for normalcy, education, and life experience they can be proud of. If my little corner of our school building can offer a safe space for their creativity to build confidence and accomplishment, I am proud to do the work to make that happen.

A picture is worth a thousand words.