Testing My Patience CAE Practice
Testing My Patience CAE Practice
Testing My Patience CAE Practice
by Andrew Girardin
[1] "There are no classes for you just yet," said my boss, "so for now you will do PT
all day." "Good, good," I said, "er... what's that?" "Placement testing. You talk to new
students for about ten or 15 minutes and decide which level they should study."
He handed me a few pages of questions. "Start by asking them these intermediate
questions and if they seem pretty good ask them the upper-intermediate. If they're
weaker try the pre-intermediate. Just find their level." I was giddy about living in
Shanghai so I didn't pause to reflect that my TESOL course and teaching books
hadn't mentioned placement testing.
[2] At first I loved the idea of conducting interviews. I felt like Sherlock Holmes.
"You are level 6." "Gosh! But how did you know?" "Simple deductive reasoning.
You used a third conditional sentence and your use of tense was always
appropriate. But when I said, 'How are you?' you replied 'Twenty-two.' It's
textbook."
[3] If I took the testing seriously, so did most of the students. Chinese culture
stresses the importance of tests. And many of the students had never spoken to a
foreigner before. The first time I spoke to a Chinese man he sat shivering in front
of me, shivering in the middle of the three-month heatwave that is Shanghai's
summer. He'd studied English for many years and I was the first foreigner he'd
spoken to. A high rating from me would validate his effort and expense; a low
rating would crush his spirit and make him lose face. I felt sorry for him so I put
him in a high level. Later I would take malicious pleasure in placing students below
their expectations.
[4] After a while the tests were easy, but repetitive and boring. Once I'd done some
teaching it was simply a case of comparing new students with old ones. "Hmm, this
guy is better than Richard but not as good as Rosy. Level 6." It seemed like every
student was level 5 or 6. Always the same questions, always the same answers. We
teachers resented the time we had to loiter around the school just in case a student
walked in off the street. We could have used the time to explore Shanghai.
[5] I did so many tests it affected my way of thinking. I rated everyone I met. When
our waitress left to get our drinks I'd say to my colleague: "Do you think that
waitress is level 4 or 5?" He'd say, "If she gets our order right she's level 5. But
she's not as good as the girls in Subway." The questions got into my head and
wouldn't get out. I found myself asking my friends, "If you saw an alien, what
would you do? What is your favourite movie and why?" A girl approached me in a
club. I panicked: "If you could be anyone in China, who would you be?" "What a
strange question! Why do you ask me that?" "Because... I want to learn more about
China and Chinese people." "Oh!" A narrow escape. I had to do something.
[6] My solution was simple. I could almost place students by the way they came in
the room and said 'hello', so - this was heresy - I began asking questions to which I
wanted to know the answer. "What's your dream? How has Shanghai changed in
your lifetime? Where do I pay my gas bill? What's the best place to get pizza? How
do I send fake DVDs to England and not get caught?"
[7] I always asked, "Why do you want to learn English?" It's a good question.
Almost everyone said, "To get a good job." Occasionally some women said, "To get
a foreign boyfriend." They usually ended up in one of my classes. Most of our
students were women, and a high percentage of Chinese women are beautiful, so
I 'met' lots of beautiful women. I was allowed to ask them personal questions as
part of the test. At least, no one told me not to. "Do you have a boyfriend?" "No.
(Shy glance.)" "Would you marry a foreigner?" "Maybe. (Giggle.)" Of course, no
respectable TEFL teacher would ever date his or her students, or use placement
tests as a kind of speed-dating service.
[8] My new approach transformed the tests from something certainly dull to
something potentially interesting. For example, a spiky teenage girl taught me
about the generation gap in modern China by raging at her parents. They hated
her boyfriend because he wore an earring and had long hair. Her answer to every
question was linked to her parents. "What do you wish you could change about
your past?" "My parents' attitude to my boyfriend." "What do you wish for in the
future?" "I hope my parents' attitude to my boyfriend will change." "Why do you
want to learn English?" "To annoy my father. He wants me to learn German, so I
learn English."
[9] PT made zombies of us teachers. We'd look at our timetables and sigh, knowing
that 90% of our PT time was a waste. In a three-hour block of time we'd get two
or three students. We tried and failed to make productive use of the time. We
begged the school to give us less PT but they gave us more. They started selling
corporate courses; I knew things would get worse.