Blank Stares, Spontaneous Revisions and Food Metaphors: Establishing Connections in the

ESOL Classroom through Culturally Relevant Examples

Danielle Donelson
I remember the scene vividly: After a quick scan across the room in Satya Wacana
Christian University (SWCU), my group of Indonesian undergraduate students peered back at
me; a good portion of them looked comatose or zombie-like, definitely half asleep, while the
others looked completely overwhelmed, either by the course content or by my English medium
of delivery, or both. Consequently, I made a spur of the moment decision to (try and) regain their
attention and liven up the lecture by using a little food analogy from which we could all relate.
In discussing the bulk of the five paragraph essay, I used the term meat and potatoes to refer to
the body. As I used this example, I smiled broadly at them, confident that it would be interesting
for them to consider my food analogy amidst this boring topic of essay writing.
Their reaction was far from what I had anticipated. Rather than smiles, chuckles, or
knowing nods, my students gaped at me with blank stares and obvious bafflement. It was as
though bubbles instantly appeared above their heads, and though I was not yet fluent in
Indonesian, I felt their thoughts loud and clear; they screamed: Huh? Why is she talking about
meat and potatoes in writing class!?
I paused, hesitated, uncertain how my attempt to bring a little life to the class discussion
had failed so miserably. Then, it quietly dawned on me. I remembered my Indonesian context:
the expression, meat and potatoes would not resonate with most of these students. After all,
they were Javanese and Chinese Indonesian students and ate rice two to three times a day.

Potatoes were a rarity, certainly not a staple, and meat was a definite luxury. This example did
not elucidate the material or provide any illustration for them. I thought fast and quickly revised
my metaphor.
Or, you know, its like, the nasi and tahu (rice and tofu) of your essay. Its the main part
of your essay, or your meal.
This time, much to my relief, the example was met with quiet smiles, knowing nods, and
soft chuckles.
This example is just one of the many learning moments I experienced during the five
years that I taught at Satya Wacana Christian University in Salatiga, Indonesia, when my lecture
really missed the mark. Though I became no stranger to the blank stares of my class, I gradually
learned that I could better teach and reach my students if I used local examples and made cultural
connections. In using cultural relevant examples I demonstrated three things: First, I showed that
I cared enough about the local culture to not only learn about it but also to retain the information;
in doing so, I established a greater ethos with my class. Second, the local connections I made to
the content made the English language more relatable to their lives. In other words, through
example, I exemplified the theoretical premise of World Englishes, or the idea that English does
not simply belong to myself, as a native speaker. On the contrary, it exists as our shared,
collective language. Third, I could employ some words from my students language, or code
mesh, as well as use examples from their culture, to further explain the content of the course and
to demonstrate that languages are unique and often contain non-translatable words or concepts.
After reflecting on the different reactions of my students and their varying levels of
engagement, I had an important revelation. Yes, ESOL instructors have their work cut out for

them, especially as immersing in a culture and becoming fluent in the language is not always an
option. Usually, in the American context, ESOL classrooms are comprised of students from half
a dozen or more different cultures, making the use of culturally relevant examples in the
classroom all the more tricky. However, despite the effort that must be expended, if ESOL
educators indeed engage with their students, and make the investment to learn culturally relevant
and make local connections from their students, they may discover a gold mine: unlike other
mainstream English instructors, ESOL instructors have a unique opportunity to relate to their
students, learning a great deal from them and about their culture(s). In doing so, ESOL educators
may establish an ethos with their students, form a special, close relationship that happens only
when a person exposes him/herself as a culture and foreign language learner, and bonds with
other speakers.
Though it may be a difficult endeavor to promote intercultural awareness and sensitivity
within the ESOL classroom, ESOL educators have a tremendous role and a great responsibility to
do so. They may demonstrate to their students how their home cultures are worthy of classroom
attention and content. Though this practice may seem utopian, as it is indeed challenging and
time does not always allow for these practices, if educators make even a small effort to do so,
those attempts may be instrumental in cultivating relationships in and outside of the ESOL
classroom. These relationships may be greatly assist students who already feel ill at ease, as
frequently ESOL students face a whole array of difficult and trying issues: culture shock,
anxieties related to limited English proficiency, insecurities over accents, and fears over
pronunciation, etc. In understanding that their instructors are also learning new information,
being vulnerable, and making mistakes in their path to proficiency and/or literacy, students may

find their own road a little smoother, a bit less daunting, in knowing, in seeing, that they are not
alone.
Indeed, as ESOL instructors, we usually try our best to establish the classroom as a safe
learning space, where students may make mistakes, without feeling constantly under threat or in
perpetual fear. To do so, we may emphasize how making errors is a necessary part of the learning
process. Though we undoubtedly are sincere in these assurances, our word that making mistakes
is okay may further be proven if we can demonstrate by example. A teacher may do something
small and relatively simple, such as learning how to pronounce a students given name, listening
to how to say something in the students native language or inquiring about some detail about a
home culture. Undoubtedly, some may contest such practices, and others shy away from them, as
they require that educators put themselves in a somewhat vulnerable position. In other words,
teachers have to demonstrate that they are not flawless or knowledgeable in all subjects; perhaps
teachers will expose themselves as not being fluent in Mandarin or not being an expert in Korean
culture. Such exposure, may appear daunting to some instructors who are not used to
relinquishing control or find that wearing the learner hat feels a bit awkward, especially in front
of their students. However, doing so, though seemingly counter intuitive, actually proves to
foster mutual respect and cultivate deeper relationships with students. When instructors
demonstrate that they care enough to learn about their students lives, cultures, names, traditions
or practices, even if briefly before or after class, or outside of class, they exemplify their
happiness to engage in a critical pedagogy and one where they may also learn from their
students.
I earned many laughs and smiles in making a fool of myself in butchering the phrase
ngomong-ngomong (chatting). In the Indonesian language, there is an ng sound that often

starts a word, similar to the sound at the end of the word ring. This phoneme proves extremely
challenging for native English speakers to make, as we do not have any word that begins with
such a sound. Consequently, I spent many hours awkwardly maneuvering my tongue around my
mouth, placing it at the roof, near the back of mouth, as I attempted to try and get it to cooperate.
I pleaded with my students to slow down and repeat the sound again and again. I asked other
speakers to please open their mouths so I could locate the position of their tongue when they
made that sound. Though in the end result I did not sound like a native speaker of Indonesian, I
could make a decipherable sound that could be understood. As such, I could parallel my own
non-native speaker status in Indonesian to my students similar position in English. Many of
them struggled to make the th sound in English; it often manifested as a d or t sound.
However, they were able to make a comparable sound that could be understandable, given the
context of a word or sentence.
Consequently, if or when a teacher makes a mistake during culturally relevant examples
or local connections, s/he may also demonstrate that making an error does not imply slowness or
a lack of intelligence. This public mistake may help alleviate the fear that grips many ESOL
students, as some experience near paralyzing fears about making errors, worried that they will
get laughed at or perhaps stand apart from their peers. In Indonesia, this cultural phenomenon,
had a name. It was known as takut salah or the fear of being publicly wrong, and consequently,
shamed and embarrassed. I quickly learned that this fear could, for many of my Indonesian
students, be better characterized as a phobia; thats how paralyzing it felt for some.
Consequently, these practices ESOL instructors may undertake to assist their students and help
place them as ease, may aid in increasing their confidence and sense of self-worth, which, in

turn, may greatly impact their entire educational and vocational career as well as their selfidentities as English speakers.
Furthermore, by altering examples or adapting analogies to make them more culturally
appropriate, instructors cease to participate in anglicization and overhauling globalization. In
other words, ESOL Instructors may avoid the mindset that the west is best, not only in word
but in action. For example, if a teachers has a group of students who are not overly familiar with
American food or references, teachers may care enough to get to know their students and learn
more comparable analogies. For example, in teaching writing a frequent example to describe the
academic paragraph and one that uses sources is the hamburger. However, I quickly found that
many of my Indonesian students, especially those from less developed islands, were unfamiliar
with hamburgers, and found this metaphor confusing. Over time, I learned to replace the
metaphor of hamburger with kue lapis, or a layered Indonesian dessert snack. This example
accomplished the same goal, and illustrated the same premise, but was more appropriate to the
context of my learners. In doing so, I reached more students and resonated with them more.
Similarly, I also used to the expression used by famous chef, Farah Quin, when discussing the
use of salt: secukupnya, or just enough. This expression, though used to describe the amount of
spices, also served well to describe the amount of quotes that students should use in their
researched essays.
In short, I demonstrated that I cared enough about their home culture to learn and use
their examples within our classroom, appropriating local examples for a global concepts. Though
such practices do require time, attention, and dedication, the outcomes that may result are worth
the effort. In demonstrating the importance of culturally relevant examples, I believe I not only
made a positive difference in students confidence and regard for English, but I also impacted

future generations. As SWCU offered an English education degree, I played a small role in
shaping students, helping them develop their pedagogical practices, as many of them would also
become teachers. To end, even in a seemingly small way, such as appropriating culturally
relevant examples, ESOL educators may make great strides to help to ease students comfort of
and enjoyment with the language, to further their ownership of English, and perhaps to continue
to mold future generations and learners of English as well.