Learning Chinese: beyond flashcards and rote repetition?

Not quite the end of the school year and we find ourselves, again, without Chinese teacher. Without going into details of the latest debacle (although entertaining—or depressing—depending on how you look at it), my husband and I have decided to try teaching our daughter, ourselves.

I’m sure my in-laws will squeal with joy (or slap their foreheads, dumbfounded) when they hear this. They’ve been trying to convince us to teach both of our kids for years.  I don’t know what’s taken us so long to give it a try.  Maybe we lacked confidence or motivation? But after three years, four teachers, and hundreds of dollars of class fees, we’re finally ready to give it a go. 

"But are we qualified?" the voice in my head asks.

I think so. My husband is a native Mandarin speaker, and I’m a lifelong Mandarin student with many years of training (undergrad, grad school, immersion programs, independent research….the list drones on…) and some teaching experience, albeit in an entirely different field.  So, I feel that we are qualified enough to at least, like I said, give it a go. 

With my best “can do” spirit, I dove into researching the many different Chinese language textbooks on the market, and after about two hours of staring at very similar-looking books, worksheets, and flashcards (all published in China, Singapore, or Taiwan for native speakers), I realized that I was not finding what I was looking for.

I wanted my daughter to learn Chinese like she learned other subjects in school.  Her school has adopted a progressive program that stresses active learning experiences. Kids learn about science, math, and language through thematic units during which kids work on projects that teach and reinforce the new concepts. 

For example, her class is raising chicks from eggs as part of their new bird study. In addition to reading books about chick development, the class read the handbook for the egg incubator. Later, they recalled the important “rules” about caring for the eggs and the incubator from the handbook, and worked in pairs to write these rules down on poster board for the class to follow. Throughout the next weeks, the students will work in pairs to care for the eggs and make sure that the rules are followed, up until the hatching of the eggs.  

Now, I am searching for a Chinese language teaching method, textbook, or teacher (whose approach I can model) that moves beyond flashcards and rote repetition, one that stresses creatively and actively engaging students in learning experiences, motivates them to use language, and then reinforces language concepts in a variety of different ways (storytelling, poems, nursery rhymes, song, and drama.) 

I’ve found bits and pieces of ideas online but I am still searching for more. 

I would absolutely love to hear your ideas!

•  How do you (if you teach your child) or your child’s teacher actively engage your child in learning Chinese?   
•  What tools (textbooks, storybooks, websites, etc…) or strategies have you found helpful? 

Children's Book Review: Chopsticks

In light of my post a few weeks back about chopsticks in the garden, I want to share this cute book I picked up at our local library.

Chopsticks (2012), by Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Scott Magoon, is an endearing and hilarious tale of best pals who are literally inseparable, until one of the “sticks” breaks his tip while karate-chopping an asparagus. You’ve got to see the illustrations—zany fun! 

Chopstick #1 doesn’t leave Chopstick #2’s side while his friend heals, but after much persuasion, Chopstick #1 ventures out into the world to see what one lone chopstick can do. He masquerades as a veggie skewer, pick-up stick, cupcake tester, and conductor’s baton before returning to his pal Chopstick #2 (now healed) and realizing that being apart has made them even stronger.  Then, off the pair goes to share new adventures (as drumsticks and a compass). 

The anthropomorphic illustrations (teabags and whisks--even pick-up sticks--with faces) and the pun-filled text (i.e. the sugar packet says, “Sweet!”) will keep you and your child giggling.  And you just might discover some new uses for one or two of your own chopsticks. 

Review of Lin-Liu's Serve the People

 Serve the People: a Stir-Fried Journey Through China is a self-described “cooks’ tour” of China by freelance journalist and writer Jen Lin-Liu.  Lin-Liu is also founder of the Black Sesame Kitchen cooking school in Beijing (where she employs two of the chefs featured in her book).  The memoir, geared toward foodies and travel lovers, is divided into three parts and two “Side Dishes,” where the author diverges from the main topic to explore 1) the controversial food additive MSG and 2) the rice harvest in rural Ping’an, Guangxi province.

Recipes, from Fish-Fragrant Pork Shreds (Yuxiang Rousi) to Cold-Tossed Shredded Tofu (Liangbian Doufu Si), intersperse the text—adding a much-appreciated drool factor. I love having English translations of these recipes; they bring the surrounding stories to life and make readers feel like they, too, have a shot at reproducing the food Lin-Liu describes.

The Summary:

In Part 1, the author enrolls in a Beijing cooking school where she asks one the school’s instructors Chairman Wang for private lessons. Under Wang’s careful eye, Lin-Liu learns how to make jiaozi and gets the inside scoop on shopping in Beijing's wet markets.  

Part 2 finds the author interning at a  noodle stall run by Shanxi native Chef Zhang on the outskirts of Beijing.  Here, Lin-Liu learns the ins and outs of the noodle stall business and masters the technique of knife-grating noodles (A recipe is included should you want to try your hand at this). 

In Part 3, Lin-Liu interns at Jereme Leung’s acclaimed Whampoa Club restaurant on the Bund in Shanghai (which she describes as Beijing’s “manicured female cousin”). Here, Lin-Liu observes (because she’s not allowed to cook) the precise orchestration of the kitchen staff as they pull off fine dining masterpieces. 

5 things I love about this book:

1.  This is not merely a book about food and one person’s love of food.  In each section, Lin-Liu tells the story behind each chef she mentors, and in effect, ties in Chinese history, politics, and culture.

2.  Although the author sees herself as an outsider in the many kitchens she interns (due to her U.S. citizenship), you definitely feel as if you’re getting an insider’s view.

3.  Many side stories intersperse the main sections, adding texture and depth (trying exotic foods as part of her job as a restaurant critic, learning how to cook from Chef Dan of Shanghai’s elegant Yi restaurant, and searching for the best Xiao Long Bao around Shanghai).

4.  Although Lin-Liu approaches exotic food territory, everyday (i.e. "the people's") food is the main focus of her book.

5.  Did I mention the recipes?  Liu doesn’t shy away from complicated or involved recipes.  I’m excited to give some of them a try!

The Takeaway:

I wasn’t planning on liking this book as much as I did (the first chapters started a little slow for my liking), but, at the end, I found myself turning pages, looking for more.  I became lost in the stories and food, and that’s exactly what I love in a good food/travel memoir! 

Chopsticks…in the garden

It’s mid-spring here in Central Ohio, and time to get veggie gardens prepped for planting in a few weeks.  I have two raised beds in my backyard, a 4X8 patch made out of cedar planks and a long, skinny 1X16 bed (new this year!) behind my garage.  Everytime I go outside to work in the gardens, I find a new use for old chopsticks--chopsticks that are losing their paint/lacquer or that have been misshapen and dried out from the dishwasher.  If your family eats with chopsticks, chances are that you have several old pairs that are ready to retire to the garden.  

Here are three eco-friendly ideas that you can use this spring:

1. Use chopsticks to secure weed cloth to the ground.  

When installing a new raised bed, one of the first steps is to lay down some type of weed cloth or landscape fabric as a barrier to weeds before adding your soil.  After laying down the cloth, instead of metal garden staples (which often have to be purchased separately from garden centers), grab a few chopsticks. As long as the soil is relatively soft, you should be able to push the chopsticks through the cloth into the ground to serve as an eco-friendly (and cost-efficient) alternative to the staples.

2.  Use chopsticks to poke holes for planting seeds.  

Sure, you can use your finger, but if you (or any children helping you) don’t like dirty fingers, use a chopstick to poke holes for seeds. If you prefer an accurate measure of how deep you’re planting the seed, mark inches or centimeters off with a sharpie or pencil on your chopstick before you poke it into the soil.

2.  Use chopsticks to mark your rows. 

After planting your seeds, use the same chopstick as a row marker.  Simply write the name of your plant (again, a sharpie works great) on the chopstick, and you have a eco-friendly reminder of where you've planted the seeds.

               

These are just a few ideas. I'm sure I'll be discovering many other uses for chopsticks this planting season. 

How do you use chopsticks in the garden or outside of the kitchen?