Metaphors reveal international differences in how students and societies regard teachers The images that learners around

the world use for their teachers and study reveal significant differences in attitudes and aspirations. Practitioners should take note Martin Cortazzi Guardian Weekly, Tuesday 12 October 2010 14.00 BST

"My teacher is an old cow." What does this mean? How would you respond, as a teacher, if this were said about you? Such a statement will make many European teachers feel annoyed or angry with the student who says it. After all, it's a gender-based insult (the teacher is considered unpleasant, stupid or ugly). In China, a teacher is probably pleased to hear the comment but, modestly, will say nothing: this is praise or admiration (the teacher is recognised as hardworking, tireless and productive, yet suffers in silence). Metaphors important features of language that compare and highlight aspects of a topic might be expected to vary across languages and cultures, but concepts of teaching and learning seem to vary, too. How speakers in different cultures hold different ideas about teaching and learning is something that matters for learners of English everywhere, not just to understand how English speakers choose metaphors compared with other speakers, but to try to appreciate what is going on in classrooms where English is taught by native speakers. If concepts of good teachers, how to learn or even of language itself (and how to learn it) vary in different cultural contexts, this is crucial for anyone who aspires to learn or teach internationally. It matters in intercultural communication and transcultural relations for professions, businesses and learning organisations everywhere. Years ago, I asked 135 British teachers to describe events where recent learning had taken place in their classrooms. I thought this would be interesting: since teachers see learners learning every day, their voices of experience should be worth listening to. Their accounts were full of metaphors, especially when they talked about the actual moments of learning: "the light dawned...", "the light in his eyes", "her face just lit up...", "this sudden spark", "this sort of flash going straight through...". The metaphors were about light, or they featured movement onwards and upwards ("moved forward", "raced ahead", "zoomed away", made "great steps" and "huge strides") or a mechanical image of operating a switch "it just clicked". At the time, there was nothing like this in technical accounts of learning, but this was clearly close to teachers' daily experience and ordinary talk. British teachers tend to see themselves as "guides" but not as "parents", friendly but not as "friends" of students, "facilitators", even "managers" of learning, but not so much as "trainers", "instructors", "sources of knowledge" or "models of learning". Recently, Lixian Jin of De Montfort University and I, with colleagues in several countries, have been asking many hundreds of students learning English about teaching and learning. We think that learners' voices about learning must be important in learner-centred approaches. We find some metaphors about learning are common, maybe universal; others are culture-specific or individual, perhaps creative. Still, they all give insight and many

are thought-provoking for professional development, especially when we ask students to share the thinking behind their metaphors. In Malaysia, learning English is a "key" to open doors of opportunity, a "bridge" to connect people and cultures and to cross communication gaps, or a "mirror" to reflect others and your own personality. In Iran, English is also a key, but a key to "solve problems and enter other worlds", a bridge to "new realities and other nations" and a "window" opening on "far landscapes and reciprocal understanding". In Lebanon, learning English is getting a "weapon" to "fight" for your future, a "sword" to "defend" yourself and "fight" darkness in the "battle" to get knowledge to reach success. However, in China a teacher is a "cup of coffee" bitter at first, but sweet to taste later and, finally, stimulating. Teachers in Lebanon, Oman, Iran, Malaysia and China (but not Britain) are "candles": they burn themselves up, drop by drop, "to give light and knowledge to others". Such images of devotion and sacrifice seem rare in Europe, but many students in Asia and the Middle East recognise or even expect teachers to work in this way. In China, teachers may be "silkworms", "devoting their whole life to others, sacrificing themselves to create the most beautiful clothes for far people" or perhaps "falling leaves", "sacrificing themselves to enrich the soil, burning their own youth, living an ordinary life with a moment of magnificence". These are student voices hardly those of administrators. In many countries in education now, policy makers talk about how teachers, schools and universities need to "drive up" standards, "package" and "deliver" the curriculum, "market" languages and "promote the brand" of their institutions. The language of students in the Middle East, Malaysia and China is quite different. They talk about their teachers in metaphors of deep knowledge, guidance and nurturing, caring friendships, as sources of "light, warmth, hope, energy and love". Institutional authorities may talk about learning "objectives, goals, targets, or outcomes"; students in our research talk about "journeys of learning". This journey in Lebanon, as elsewhere, never ends: "you discover something new at every step" on a bumpy road or a highway "to your future". A Chinese learning journey in our research is rich with metaphors. It goes from "hell to heaven": students may experience "punishment", "horror", even "torture" on this "long, hard, difficult journey", but their purpose is to reach "success, wealth, happiness and beauty" even perhaps their "true self" and they know that if they work with "determination, diligence, perseverance and patience" and make a constant effort, they will reach "brightness and truth or wisdom" in "the destiny of their dreams". This is poetry, but it is also observable principle and practice. If we want to put learning centre-stage, we need to know students' experience and conceptions of learning. Teachers need to reconsider their own ideas, too, and maybe reflect on their metaphors together with students: what are our metaphors for language, learning and teaching? Are they fixed or can we extend our repertoires of images? If we seriously consider alternative images, how does this affect what we believe and do in classrooms? It's a good discussion topic. Martin Cortazzi is visiting professor at the Centre for Applied Linguistics, University of Warwick, England. His joint research is with Lixian Jin of De Montfort University, England. He can be seen talking about English teaching and culture at Tesolacademic.org