There’s a school of thought in English foreign language teaching known as TPR (Total Physical Response), advocating the use of physical actions to aid learning. One day as I pondered over suitable actions for my classroom, a revelation struck me – all the actions I could possibly need were already well defined: sign language! And so, for about a year now, I’ve found myself delving into the captivating world of British Sign Language (BSL), incorporating it into my teaching toolkit. Beyond the area of TPR, I’ve come to appreciate the invaluable addition of sign language to my toolkit, offering an additional dimension to communication. I believe this is particularly beneficial for very young learners or learners with special needs, enriching their educational experience and fostering a deeper level of understanding.
I find the subject of sign languages absolutely fascinating. The world of sign languages forms a rich tapestry just as intricate and diverse as spoken languages. The first thing to understand is that sign languages are each languages in their own right with which a user can express themselves just as deeply as they can with spoken or written language. BSL has unique grammar that sets it totally apart from the spoken English language and is totally different from it’s American Sign Language counterpart, but it does still share an affinity with sister languages in Australia and New Zealand. BSL’s lineage, tracing back to medieval times, boasts a heritage far richer than some of the other influential sign languages in the world such as French Sign Language.
BSL has a lexicon of both the obvious and the not-so-obvious gestures making up the signs. Take, for instance, the sign for “cricket” – a delightful portrayal of swinging a bat that’s always fun to do. And then there’s “train” and “robot” signs, where arm movements mimic the very essence of a kid playing make-believe. When I look up signs like this, it’s like duh, of course that’s how you do it! They’re the onomatopoeia of the sign language world. You might even find yourself inadvertently using them, blissfully unaware of their linguistic pedigree.
Now, onto the less obvious realm of sign language, where the challenge lies in encapsulating abstract concepts like color. Consider the sign for “red” – I think it’s ultimately based on the sign for the letter “r”. While it may seem a tad abstract, I’ve found immense value in incorporating such gestures into my classroom routine. Consistency is key, after all, even if it means looking silly in the eyes of my students as I dance my fingers around my body.
One thing I find curious is that some kids effortlessly grasp the nuances of handshape and precise movements, while others seem to channel their inner windmill. Many students are reluctant to use their hands at all and it takes a great deal of effort for me to get them to do anything – maybe they feel silly or that it’s not important. I’m not rigid about enforcing sign language; after all, it’s not the bread and butter of my teaching gig.
In the future, I hope to have the freedom to teach however I see fit and I’ll experiment with integrating the BSL alphabet into early education and continuing its use throughout students’ learning journeys. I believe this approach will not only enhance their English learning but also foster mental flexibility and increase the enjoyment of the class. Perhaps one day one of my students will find themselves in the company of a BSL native and think, “Ah, I know what that means! That’s how Teacher Will did it!”