The Linguist is a languages magazine for professional linguists, translators, interpreters, language professionals, language teachers, trainers, students and academics with articles on translation, interpreting, business, government, technology
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16 The Linguist Vol/60 No/2 2021 thelinguist.uberflip.com LOCKDOWN LEARNING How have student interpreters and their teachers adapted to pandemic conditions? Zoé Brill Diderich reports T he University of Westminster decided to switch to online classes a week before the UK government closed universities in the March 2020 lockdown. It was a decision that brought a huge sigh of relief. Relief to be rid of the uncertainty of "will we, won't we" and the infection risks involved in attending classes. However, being plunged into a virtual classroom, with an entirely different set of rules, was a daunting experience for students and lecturers alike. That said, interpreters are adaptable communicators, so if we can't adjust to a changing environment, no one can. Our interpreting classes had never been run online, and although a virtual classroom was available, it was not something we had used before. The move enabled us to see our classes from a fresh perspective and to watch ourselves interacting with others on screen. It also brought a reevaluation of our teaching methods – simply transferring a lesson plan from face to face to online doesn't work. Teaching interpreting requires a dynamic approach, as there are so many skills to develop. The lecturer has to evaluate each student's abilities incrementally, and that requires a multi-tasking technique. We need to keep an eye on a room full of students, each working through different challenges. In a physical classroom, you can hear a bit of everything that's going on. When using the conference interpreting booths, we listen to the students interpreting and make a quick scan of what's happening; we know who's coping and who needs help. We can stick our head into a booth to offer tips, post information on the screens, speak to all the students at the same time or individually, give students new materials to work on, and help others who are struggling to finish. It gives students the space to learn at their own pace. This style of teaching presents a challenge when it's taken online. My teenage nephew, Liam, compares his school classroom to having dinner with our noisy family. You tune into one or two people in a lively and animated series of discussions, interspersed with laughter and voices competing for attention; you hear parts of other people's conversations and effortlessly jump in to comment on something you heard while you were talking to someone else. In a classroom, the students' attention works on many levels. As interpreters, we are also in the unique position of listening, speaking while reformulating, and anticipating – all at the same time. It's a sensory overload that requires a high level of concentration. As lecturers, we gauge progress and fatigue, and we shift the session to achieve the best outcomes. Unfortunately, teaching online can remove this spontaneity. Taking turns to talk is frustrating, and many moments are lost while students are waiting for their turn to speak. When it is their turn, there is pressure to say something worthwhile because all the attention is on them. Unwanted distractions When practising interpreting skills, it takes time to build confidence. Creating an environment where everyone can work on this at their own pace is essential. That is much harder to do if you are distracted by your own image; your thought process is interrupted because you aren't used to watching yourself speaking. While it is sometimes helpful to see how you come across, constantly viewing yourself on video disrupts the learning process. In essence, the mechanics of working online take away the collective emotional energy that you build with a group who are physically present. It's the same type of energy you can find with strangers when you have a common connection or passion, such as the bond that a live concert can create. It is challenging to summon a spirit of solidarity when we feel isolated, facing muted microphones and turned-off cameras. It's understandable that some don't always want to face the screen, but for the rest of the class it's like sitting in an audience full of empty seats and the mood doesn't lift. Where is the magic? We assess our students' progress using these assessment criteria: comprehension, accuracy, coherence, fluency, language and presentation. These determine our ability to communicate, so it struck me that we could Training virtually