Day 29 - American Language Institute (ALI)

Greece image by archer10 (Dennis), via Flickr

A Greek, a Libyan and a Tahitian walked into a bar in San Francisco. That might sound like the opening of a joke, but it is a description of the activities of a trio of students at the American Language Institute where I taught English while in graduate school. I don't remember their names, so I'll call them Alex, Mohammed, and Oscar.

The three of them were in the same class at ALI, so they has no choice about spending at least six hours a day together. But they liked one another and chose to spend much of the rest of their time together, too.

ALI is an English language prepartory program for university-bound international students. Students were put into classes based on their scores on the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL). The classes stayed together for just one term of about 12 weeks. At the end of the term, they retook TOEFL to determine whether their progress was sufficient to enter their chosen university or more preparation was needed. The pressure to get through in one term was tremendous, ALI's standards were high, and discipline was strict. Many of the students had never been without an externally imposed structure such as from family or government. The contrast offered by the freedom and lack of social constraints in San Francisco in the early 1970's was extreme. And since all of our students were expected to go on to universities all across the country where foreign student advisors may or may not be available to help with their transition, our director, affectionately known as Mrs. B, set up rules to help with the transition. For example, she insisted that students attend every class; no more than two absences were permitted in a term. Students were assigned advisors from among the four permanent staff members. They were required to write at least a page in English every day in a diary which they turned in every Friday and received back, with comments and corrections, on Mondays. Students were not allowed to leave town without permission. Students who ignored these rules were removed from the school and encouraged to find other English programs. And we all knew ALI was the best.

Libya image by sludgegulper, via Flickr

One of the reasons ALI students were successful was that no class had more than three students in it who spoke the same language. That meant English was the only common language. Other programs put all the Spanish speakers together or all the Japanese students together, robbing the students of a powerful incentive to use English - necessity. So it wasn't unusual at ALI to find three such different young men in one another's company.

Another of Mrs. B's rules was that the students were not allowed to socialize with the teachers. In addition to the four permanent staff members, there were about two dozen graduate students like me who taught at ALI.  Many of us were about the same age as the students, so without the prohibition on socializing, it is likely that we would have mixed outside of class. But ALI rules applied to teachers, too.

One of the advisors, Al, had great hopes for Mohammed, the Libyan, precisely because he wasn't spending his time with the other Libyan students. Al had watched group after group of Libyan students arrive without the proper motivation or discipline. Most recently, three Libyan students had decided to spend the Thanksgiving break in St. Louis. One of them had a friend at school there, so they told Al they planned to drive to St. Louis, leaving Wednesday before Thankgiving and returning the Sunday after. Al pointed out that they would not have any time to spend in St. Louis as it would take all their time to drive there and back. He strongly recommended they not make the trip. They didn't listen. They drove to St. Louis and were late getting back. And they were then dropped from the student roster. So Mohammed's friendship with Alex and Oscar was a good sign.

That summer was tough on Alex, the Greek. It was the year of the end of the Greek military junta that had been in power since 1967. While most of us assumed that the military rule coming to an end in July was a good thing, it is difficult for anyone with ties to a land on the other side of the earth to know that all is well with family and friends when the news deals with such changes. In addition, many of the students at ALI were on scholarships from their governments which meant that changes to the government were not always welcome.

Oscar brought with him a number of items that tourists were likely to pick up when traveling to Tahiti. Among them were a number of necklaces made from shells. Joseph from Nigeria, another student that summer, also brought beaded necklaces which he showed both students and teachers. But when the teachers asked him whether he would sell them, Joseph wouldn't - or couldn't - answer. Joseph's English was excellent, so long as he was reading something written on the board or in a book or he was writing, but his listening comprehension was very weak and his speech was so heavily accented that none of us, neither students nor teachers, understood much of what he said.

Tahiti image by Mitch Allen, via Flickr

Each term ended with a party at which time the students received the results of their most recent TOEFL. Those who scored above 500 were on their way to the university. Those who scored below that level would have to complete another term, if finances and other resources permitted, or make alternative educational arrangements.

At the party that summer, all three members of the trio scored high enough to go on. Because they had all succeeded, they knew they would no longer be our students. The prohibition on socializing was over.

At the end of that party, Oscar gave me one of the shell necklaces from Tahiti. And Mohammed had managed to strike a bargain with Joseph for one of the beaded necklaces which he gave me. I was flattered, and just a tiny bit worried what my colleagues would think, so I wore the necklaces in the weeks to come, to be sure they knew I didn't have anything to hide. The three of them, Alex, Mohammed, and Oscar, went separate ways. A few months later, I also left San Francisco, never to return.