The four directors at the English Language Institute sat around the table in the faculty

room in poses which suggested a fair mix of concern and intrigue had befallen each one of them.

The white fluorescent lights burned about as bright as the shock that had been on their faces

while watching Billys class performance at the annual English Show the night before. The

English Show was something the English Language Institute put on as a kind of reassurance to

the students parents that their children had indeed learned English in preparation for their

impossibly competitive lives back home.

No one at the institute had expected much from Billy though. He had recently been hired

on as a full-time ESL teacher from West Virginia, and his thick accent made faculty hesitate in

their estimation of Billys English skills, though none of them would dare admit to that. This was

Los Angeles, after all. The land of dreams.

The English Show was almost always the same rote performance of English

conversational interaction that was expected of beginner ESL students. It always appeared like

acting, which it was, and that bothered Mark, the institutes head director. He had secretly never

liked the English Show. There was something off about it. Were the students actually

demonstrating English language skills or had they simply memorized a script?

Mark had never questioned it out loud though, especially not in front of Betty-Lynn, the

institutes most senior director. Betty-Lynn had been teaching ESL since before Mark was born

and there was no questioning her ways. Her methodology had calcified to the point where she

couldnt change even if she wanted to. But it was Mark who was ultimately in charge, not Betty-

Lynn.

Susan, on the other hand, was simply amazed at the talent displayed by Billys students.
 I couldnt believe what I was seeing when Sumiko walked onto that stage in that black

fur shawl wearing sunglasses. I recognized the song right away, too, and thought, Oh my

Lord, said Susan, hands to her face.

The audiences eyes went wide when Sumiko actually started singing to the music of

Reba McEntires Fancy. Her voice was loud and clear, right on key, and her pronunciation was

practically impeccable. Her six other classmates all stood behind her in a straight row. They

provided the backup vocals.

And did you hear that twang in Sumikos voice? asked Brian, the youngest director. He

was nearly out of his seat with excitement.

This isnt a joke, Brian! said Betty-Lynn, frustration all over her face.

Betty-Lynn, please, said Mark, frowning. Billy has made a joke of our English

Show! she said. Its not that big of a deal! retorted Brian.

Okay, calm down, people, said Mark, raising his hands.

But can you imagine getting those students to perform that song? And they did it so

well! added Susan.

Mark had been thinking that all along, not to mention the fact that Billys performance,

ironically, was exactly the kind of show people were looking for, which was a problem.

What are we aiming for with the annual English Show? asked Mark.

To show the parents that their kids have indeed learned English and their hard-earned

money was well spent, said Betty-Lynn, quivering.

 How can that truly be an accurate marker of successful learning? asked Mark, a sigh

passing over his face like a shadow.

Okay, so his focus was a bit off, but whose fault is that? Can we really blame him? I

mean, the truth is that the English Show has become something of a burden anyway and whos to

say we cant do something different? Betty-Lynn gave her a predictably stunned look. Susan

just looked away.

Right. But more importantly, Billy must be the greatest vocal coach in the world

because he basically Sister Actd that class, said Brian. He then added, And youre Maggie

Smith, staring directly at Betty-Lynn, who gave him squinty eyes, having no idea what he was

referring to.

So the question is, how did he do it? asked Brian. Mark nodded.

He had to have started teaching them that song from the very start of the school year. I

mean, I guess its not quite as hard to learn a song in another language if youre merely

memorizing the words and a melody. Theres no need for linguistic comprehension. And yet that

doesnt explain how they were able to acquire that kind of pronunciation and that accent,

although, I guess if the teacher speaks English with a West Virginian accent, the students will

pick it up. But the really strange part is, Sumiko and the other students could barely speak

English in spite of knowing the song. You saw how they responded at the end.

Mark was referring to the point when, after the students had performed the song, he

walked up on stage to shake Sumikos hand and congratulate the class on such an incredible

performance. Sumiko just covered her mouth with her hand and giggled, shaking her head. No

ingirishu, she said. Mark couldnt believe it.

 Mark was almost talking more to himself than to the other directors, everyone was so

preoccupied with their own thoughts, fascinated by similar yet distinct facets of the event. It

was like an early-90s flashback. I had old episodes of Roseanne popping up in my head,

rambled Susan.

Mark realized that Billy had done exactly what hed been expected to do: put on a good

show. As outlandish as it was, Billy had nailed it. The English Language Institute wasnt about

teaching to communicate; it was about teaching to perform.

Well, when Sumiko sang that part about being plain white trash I just about stood up

from my seat. Those parents are gonna complain about this. People are very sensitive these

days, said Betty-Lynn, crossing her arms, which was the signal for Brian to roll his eyes, hard.

For Gods sake, Betty-Lynn, you sound like you just read that in the paper. And its not

as if they were singing Can I Get A, he said.

Can I get a what? asked Betty-Lynn, exasperated. Betty-Lynn, please, said Brian.

And Hae-Won had those backup vocals down pat, continued Susan.

It was at that moment Mark stood up, his chair squealing across the floor, bringing

everything to a halt. His three colleagues all looked up at him.

We need to rethink things, Mark said at last.

What do you mean? asked Betty-Lynn.

I mean, somethings not right here, and it isnt Billy, said Mark.

Well, what do you want to do? asked Brian.

I dont know at the moment. But we can do better than merely perform.