Dynamiting Language

Since the late '60s, college students' interest in studying foreign languages has declined almost as much as campus protests. According to the Modern Language Association, registration in French courses, for instance, dropped from a high of 388,000 in 1968 to 253,000 in 1974-75. At Dartmouth College in Hanover, N.H., however, enrollment in advance-level French courses has risen to 1,100 (from 500) in the past decade, and other languages, such as Spanish and German, have also become increasingly popular. Moreover, tests given to students at 200 colleges show that first-year language students at Dartmouth are more fluent after only 20 to 30 weeks of instruction than nine out of ten language majors elsewhere are at graduation.

In large part, language study is thriving at Dartmouth because of the ebullient personality and unique teaching method of John Rassias, professor of Romance languages and literature. A University of Bridgeport graduate, Rassias, 50, first developed his system when he went to Dartmouth in 1965 to teach a crash course for Peace Corps volunteers heading for French-speaking areas of West Africa. Staying on to teach Dartmouth undergraduates, Rassias used his crash method for both French and Greek.

Today eight languages are taught at Dartmouth using his "Intensive Language Model," a combination of "total immersion" techniques used in language schools such as Berlitz and solid structural underpinnings. Rassias' aim: to start students talking in a new language within minutes after the first class begins and to keep them "communicating" at a rapid rate--never mind, at first, accent, vocabulary or minor mistakes in grammar. Each first-year course requires two hours of class drill a day plus four hours a week of traditional lab work.

No Inhibitions. Often Rassias himself teaches beginners their first daily class, which consists of about 25 students. They are immediately taught to engage in very short conversations about events such as going to a train station. The professor then moves rapidly around the class, bending down close to one student, whirling and pointing to another as he fires questions. Or, after a student memorizes a Rassias-written "microlog," a one-minute monologue that explains how to do something, like make a crepe, the professor quickly asks: "What are the ingredients? How long does it cook?"

During the second hour, smaller groups of students are drilled in the same lesson by apprentice teachers (juniors or seniors). With about as many routines as Henny Youngman--and his speed to boot--the apprentice whizzes around the class getting students to repeat what they have learned. The pace demands that each student make 65 responses an hour. Drills include imaginary telephone conversations, mock press conferences with "visiting dignitaries" and a wide variety of word games. The apprentice teacher, in effect, acts as a living language lab, snapping his fingers at each student for responses. Rassias' instructions: "Never let your students forget that you are ecstatic when they do well and confounded when they don't."

After only ten weeks of instruction, the students go abroad for ten weeks to live with foreign families. They continue their intensive study--this time with more conventional teaching of grammar--under the supervision of an American professor. Indeed, as Rassias explained to TIME Correspondent David Wood, getting students overseas is a major goal of the program. "We're gonna take these kids and dynamite some raw language into them," he said with typical gusto. "Then they're gonna blast out of here and smash into France, and they're gonna destroy everybody with how well they talk."

The course ends back at Hanover with an optional ten-week literature survey, which most students choose to take. Throughout, Rassias insists that professors and apprentice teachers alike create a classroom situation that dispels inhibitions and keeps students excited about learning. Says he: "I ban from the classroom any teacher who is not 'alive.' A teacher of language should be in total command of the language, but he should also be a firebrand and an actor." That perfectly describes Rassias himself. For an upper-class lecture on the 18th century French philosopher Diderot, Rassias shows up in class in a blond wig, breeches and billowing shirt and proceeds to act out the emotional states that Diderot argued are unique to man. Rage, for instance, is depicted by heaving a chair across the room. Says Rassias: "If you want to teach, you have to be willing to walk out of class exhausted."

Students of the method tend to talk about it like converts to Christ. "It changed my life," says Junior Blanche Jones. "I came here to study chemistry. Now I'm thinking about teaching Spanish." Explains Junior Annie McLane: "The whole thing is, go ahead, make mistakes, but at least you're speaking. It builds your confidence."

Last spring the Exxon Education Foundation deemed the Rassias method an "educational innovation of demonstrated merit," made a film of Rassias in action, and sent out word about it to 2,500 college presidents and deans. According to Rassias, some adaptation of his drills could be used for any kind of class. "Hell," says he, "we should be using this method to teach English to English-speaking people. It makes them better communicators in any language."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.