AMBIGUITY

a gorgeous sunset in Balıkesir, near my apartment

 

"You need to help them learn to manage the ambiguity!"

The regional language officer from the U.S. branch in Ankara was an enthusiastic woman with a booming voice and commanding presence that lent an air of the dramatic to her insistence on an English-only classroom.

"There will always be a time in learning a language when it seems a bit overwhelming and incomprehensible. Your job as a teacher is to create space for students to dwell in that ambiguity and to be okay with it as they learn."

***

Turkey is by far one of the most fascinating countries I have ever been to. It is at once both European and Middle Eastern, secular and Muslim, modern and traditional. In fact, the more I learn about the country and its culture, the more I see this play out in the history (NATO alliances and the ongoing EU acceptance debate, for example), language (which draws on French, Arabic, and Farsi), and current events (relations with the Kurdish population, recent political riots and the ongoing Syria conversation).

At the end of our 10 day orientation— in which expert after expert, Turkish, Americans, historians, politicians, and government officials all endeavored to explain different facets of this complex country— I was only left with that strange feeling that I knew less than when I started. It seems that Turkey, in many ways, is a country full of incomprehensible paradoxes.

It is striking to me (all theories of L1 in language teaching aside), how many areas of life likewise dwell in ambiguity.

Turkey is not alone. I see similar themes in the U.S. as it struggles to reconcile its own schizophrenic identity in every aspect of policy, from immigration to abortion to foreign affairs.

I see this in my friends and I as we have graduated and struggle to move forward into the ambiguous void of the future. We have 50 interests and 500 options. We feel conflicting loyalties to 5 different hometowns and at the same time none at all. We have no choice but to navigate the unknown.

Likewise in faith I am forever struck by the beautiful and often frustrating mystery that shrouds the intersection between the knowable and the impossibility of ever fully knowing. Or even the ongoing struggle to walk the middle ground between what St. Augustine expressed as, “one soul which is torn between conflicting wills.”

Now, as I strive to quickly settle into my new host city, the word ambiguity has never been quite so apt. Preparation to start teaching on Monday has so far consisted of being told to stick to a textbook that I won't receive until hours before my first class, in a classroom I have never been to, at a time still unknown to me. It seems that managing ambiguity is more akin to a way of life in Turkey than it is any particular teaching model. Thus with all due respect to the RLO in Ankara, at this point I think my students will likely be better at it than I am. I will however gladly take her advice and learn to enjoy the ride. :)