Tutoring Second Language Writers (26 page)

JOCELYN AMEVUVOR

The Republic of Ghana is located on the west coast of sub-Saharan Africa, bordering Togo, Cote D’Ivoire, and Burkina Faso. Because the country was colonized by the British, English is the official language in Ghana. As a result of their background in English, some Ghanaians specifically choose to study in the United States because it is an English-speaking country; they believe the linguistic commonality will prevent language barriers.

Much of the knowledge I have gained about the Ghanaian culture comes from my experiences as the wife of a Ghanaian. At the writing center, I attempt to use my knowledge to connect with students from Ghana or neighboring countries. Consequently, when a Ghanaian international student came to the writing center looking noticeably distressed, I hoped my background would enable us to build a trusting relationship and result in a more successful tutoring session. Before getting into the specifics of that session, though, here is some background information on Ghana that could help you know the Ghanaian students of your writing center better. It should be noted, however, that this information describes only one aspect of Ghanaian culture and, like all descriptions of culture, does not apply to everyone. The Ghanaian student who enters your writing center is someone you should get to know as an individual.

Most people who have heard of Ghana think of it in terms of the
Kente
cloth they see mainly black students wearing during graduation. The cloth is often worn because it represents the pan-African community, which is fitting as Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah, was one of the great leaders in the pan-African movement, alongside others like W.E.B Dubois and Marcus Garvey. Within the
Kente
cloth,
adinkra
symbols are sometimes woven.

Kente
cloth is not the only place to find
adinkra
symbols, though. Above the couch in my room hangs a flour sack painted with blues, reds, pinks, yellows, and greens. Even though it may look like a bunch of meaningless swirls, the picture actually contains three symbols, like the ones in the
Kente
cloth, and each one has an expression or proverb attached to it. One represents humility and strength while another declares
Gye Nyame
, which means “Only God.” The final symbol is a familiar one, a heart; however, it symbolizes more than love because it means tolerance and patience (
MacDonald 2007
). The designs on the painted flour sack provide a window into key parts of the Ghanaian culture. Ghanaians value intellectuality, which is often realized through proverbs and sayings. Furthermore, Ghanaians are known for being religious, whether they are Christian, Muslim, or followers of the traditional religion; however, unlike other countries where people clash over religious beliefs, they are very tolerant and peaceful with one another.

Not found in the painting in my room are facts about Ghanaians it would probably take being with Ghanaians to understand. For example, the Ghanaian culture relies heavily on respect. Even offering the wrong hand when greeting someone can be interpreted as disrespectful since the left hand is considered dirty. Likewise, passing by acquaintances and not greeting them with a “hello” or “how are you doing” is considered rude and even immature. Once, when watching
Givers Never Lack
, a Nigerian movie also popular in Ghana, I was surprised to see a driver stop his car, get out, and individually greet all the elders meeting outside. Had the man just driven by, as I often do in the US context, he would have been considered rude.

One of the biggest ways to disrespect a Ghanaian, though, is to insult his or her intellectuality. Ghana is a country that strongly values knowledge and intellectual ability. Insulting the point a Ghanaian is trying to make, calling him or her stupid, or pointing out that something said does not make sense is considered a slap to the face.

Since many Ghanaians value intellectuality and wisdom, Ghanaians often take their time getting to a main point. Therefore, when Ghanaians make arguments, it is not uncommon for them to begin indirectly. At times, elders might get together over a local dispute, and as they begin their arguments, they open implicitly, oftentimes with a proverb. Likewise, indirectly entering into an argument or a point is common in Ghanaian writing, which brings me to my tutoring session with the distressed Ghanaian.

The Ghanaian who came to the writing center was my brother-in-law’s roommate. Therefore, we were acquaintances, though we did not know
one another well. Like other Ghanaians, he was exposed to English at a young age through government procedures, the media, and school. At the same time, he was exposed to local languages, such as Twi or Fanti, used by his family and community, making him multilingual. He came to the United States to obtain his bachelor’s degree in safety sciences. He wrote a three-page response paper for one of his safety-science classes. His professor commented on it and asked him to go to the writing center for help revising the piece before resubmitting.

When we began our session, the student was mostly concerned about his teacher’s feedback. So, we read the first sentence the teacher had commented on. The student wrote, “The need for Mr. Crankmout to say again to everyone of the planned visit by the Fire Department on their usual annual site assessment in order to put things right is a serious indication that all is not well with respect to the safety culture of the organization.” The professor labeled the sentence as a run-on, though syntactically it is not. It is, however, a sentence with a long subject containing many prepositional phrases. Since the professor seemed more focused on grammar, I felt she was indicating that the student wrote the sentence in a very indirect manner, which is indicative of Ghanaian English. So, I talked with him about how to make the sentence more direct. By providing him with knowledge about how to make the sentence more direct, I became a cultural informant in that I explained the writing expectations of US academic culture to the student (
Blau and Hall, 2002
; see Cox, this volume).

As we continued through the teacher’s comments, I could tell the student still seemed wounded by the teacher-feedback experience because he appeared crestfallen. Looking back at his paper, I saw another sentence that could have explained further why he seemed so dejected. The comment stated, “This doesn’t make sense.” Seeing that sentence took me back to when my husband and I were having a friendly debate that quickly turned less amicable when I said, “That doesn’t make sense.” Immediately, I could tell I had crossed a line as my husband shot back, “Oh, so you think I’m stupid.” It was then I realized that, in Ghana, making sense is equated to intellectuality. Therefore, saying a Ghanaian’s point does not make sense is like calling that person stupid or unwise.

Perhaps insult was added to injury with the teacher’s comment, “A graduate of this program should have at least a basic command of the written language.” This comment was probably particularly hurtful because it stated that the student did not have even a basic grasp of written English. However, he grew up hearing, speaking, and writing
English. He speaks many different languages, one of which is English (see Cox, this volume). His English is just as valid as any other speaker’s.

The student was caught in a broader political issue about what varieties of English are acceptable. McArthur states that we often find ourselves between two ideas when it comes to what is acceptable in English. The first idea is that acceptable English “norms have long been with us, are clear, and need only be applied, and it is perverse or pigheaded to pretend otherwise” (
McArthur 2001
, 10). Such norms are often enforced by our institutions and teachers, like the Ghanaian student’s teacher. They are seen as necessary in order to ensure writing is comprehensible for everyone as well as to have a standard by which to grade.

Not everyone in the institution feels such norms and standards are good, however. Others stand on the belief that there should be “much less authoritarianism and an alleviation of prejudice in gender, race, culture, language, dialect, and accent” (
McArthur 2001
, 10). Such prejudice separates some Englishes as Other and deems them unacceptable.

In the Ghanaian student’s case, I felt his teacher’s belief that his English was something Other than what was acceptable was based on assumptions about race and African cultures (see Balester, this volume). For instance, there is a pervasive notion that most African countries do not use English when really English is an official language in twenty-one
¹
of the fifty-four countries on the African continent (
CIA World Factbook n.d.
). Such an assumption separates the English users of these twenty-one countries from the mainstream and deems their English less valid in the Western institution.

As a writing center tutor, I was in a position of power and could take one of two sides. On one side, I could agree with the professor’s comments that the student did not have a basic command of written English. On the other, I could completely reject the teacher’s comments. I did not want to side with the professor because I felt doing so would only promote the belief that the student was not a valid English writer when really the student could create complex English sentences, such as the first sentence his teacher had commented on. However, I was also aware the student’s grade would suffer if he did not understand his professor’s comments.

I chose to compromise. First, I did what was asked of me and helped the student revise according to the teacher’s comments. However, I also tried to stay true to my beliefs by explaining to the student that the teacher wanted him to use some form of American academic English and emphasizing that his English was just as valid. To this day, I am still not sure whether the benefits of this compromise outweighed the negative outcomes of reinforcing potentially harmful presumptions
about where students come from and how that relates to their academic abilities.

However, even in the midst of my uncertainty, I have hope that my knowledge about Ghanaian culture and writing enhanced our session. Through that knowledge, I was able to explain to the student where the gap was between his writing and his teacher’s expectations of the writing while at the same time reassuring him that he was a valid and proficient user of English. My hope is that by sharing this story as well as some of my background knowledge about the Ghanaian culture, you may also be better prepared to help the Ghanaian students who walk through your writing center’s doors.