Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão.

    Folklore and fairytales have been examined as effective means for teaching culture in a foreign language because they are an integral part of people’s everyday life. Morain (1997) proposed the idea that folklore is superior to literary writing because it depicts the attitudes of large groups of people. Gholson and Stumpf (2005) believe that folklore might help promote cultural dialogue in which L2 learners gain respect for differences between their native culture and L2 culture, as well as acknowledge the similarities in both cultures. Akpinar and Ozturk (2009) suggest that folklore can be taught in an L2 classroom through an inquiry approach: folklore engages the students in exploring the theme and structure of a folktale, relating these to their L1 background knowledge, and then drawing conclusions about the target culture, its beliefs, values, lifestyles, history, etc.

(DEMA, O., MUELLER, A. J. Teaching culture in the 21st century language classroom. IN: SILDUS, T. (ed.). Published in Touch the World: Selected Papers from the 2012 Central States Conference on the Teaching of Foreign Languages. Eau Claire: Crown Prints, pp. 75-91. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

    So what languages do I know? I speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little French, and a little in a few others. But I would be a bit uncomfortable to say that I ‘know’ all of these languages. The reason for my discomfort is that language learning is such a slow, piece-by-piece process that it is hard to tell when someone has finally ‘arrived’.

    In fact, this idea of ‘arriving’ in language is misguided. Language, you see, is more of a journey than a destination, and most learners never feel comfortable saying they have arrived when asked about how much they know. This is especially true because, as in all educational pursuits, the more you learn, the more you are aware of what you do not know.

    To illustrate, many of my Asian English learning students studying here in Arizona, U.S., are quite proficient in English. However, when people ask them if they speak English, here are the answers I most often hear:

    “I speak okay.”

    “I’m not so good.”

    “I don’t know.”

    The truth is that even these excellent English speakers often feel the distance between them and native-like proficiency. They have accents, they do not know certain words, and they constantly second-guess their grammar. The question “Do you speak a language?” comes out sounding, in their ears, a lot like “Have you mastered the language?”

    So how can my foreign students, who by all accounts are doing amazing things in the United States, still feel like they have not arrived? The truth is this: when we focus on mastering a language - perfect pronunciation, complete command of the vocabulary, ability to speak in any and every possible situation -, we are always going to feel insufficient, because by that measure, we all fall short. This way of learning a language is exhausting. A better question than “Do you know the language?” is this: “In the language you are learning, are you creating friendships and experiences?” What I am suggesting is that learners reframe their perspectives. If they are fueled by meeting others, trying new things, and making memories and friendships for themselves, they have a great shot.

    I believe that language learning is, at its core, about relationships and experiences – about connecting and learning from those connections. It is my belief that every story (even those who fail) can teach us something about language learning.

(DIXON, S. The language learner guidebook: powerful tools to help you conquer any language. [S.l.]: Wayzgoose, 2018. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

    So what languages do I know? I speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little French, and a little in a few others. But I would be a bit uncomfortable to say that I ‘know’ all of these languages. The reason for my discomfort is that language learning is such a slow, piece-by-piece process that it is hard to tell when someone has finally ‘arrived’.

    In fact, this idea of ‘arriving’ in language is misguided. Language, you see, is more of a journey than a destination, and most learners never feel comfortable saying they have arrived when asked about how much they know. This is especially true because, as in all educational pursuits, the more you learn, the more you are aware of what you do not know.

    To illustrate, many of my Asian English learning students studying here in Arizona, U.S., are quite proficient in English. However, when people ask them if they speak English, here are the answers I most often hear:

    “I speak okay.”

    “I’m not so good.”

    “I don’t know.”

    The truth is that even these excellent English speakers often feel the distance between them and native-like proficiency. They have accents, they do not know certain words, and they constantly second-guess their grammar. The question “Do you speak a language?” comes out sounding, in their ears, a lot like “Have you mastered the language?”

    So how can my foreign students, who by all accounts are doing amazing things in the United States, still feel like they have not arrived? The truth is this: when we focus on mastering a language - perfect pronunciation, complete command of the vocabulary, ability to speak in any and every possible situation -, we are always going to feel insufficient, because by that measure, we all fall short. This way of learning a language is exhausting. A better question than “Do you know the language?” is this: “In the language you are learning, are you creating friendships and experiences?” What I am suggesting is that learners reframe their perspectives. If they are fueled by meeting others, trying new things, and making memories and friendships for themselves, they have a great shot.

    I believe that language learning is, at its core, about relationships and experiences – about connecting and learning from those connections. It is my belief that every story (even those who fail) can teach us something about language learning.

(DIXON, S. The language learner guidebook: powerful tools to help you conquer any language. [S.l.]: Wayzgoose, 2018. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

    So what languages do I know? I speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little French, and a little in a few others. But I would be a bit uncomfortable to say that I ‘know’ all of these languages. The reason for my discomfort is that language learning is such a slow, piece-by-piece process that it is hard to tell when someone has finally ‘arrived’.

    In fact, this idea of ‘arriving’ in language is misguided. Language, you see, is more of a journey than a destination, and most learners never feel comfortable saying they have arrived when asked about how much they know. This is especially true because, as in all educational pursuits, the more you learn, the more you are aware of what you do not know.

    To illustrate, many of my Asian English learning students studying here in Arizona, U.S., are quite proficient in English. However, when people ask them if they speak English, here are the answers I most often hear:

    “I speak okay.”

    “I’m not so good.”

    “I don’t know.”

    The truth is that even these excellent English speakers often feel the distance between them and native-like proficiency. They have accents, they do not know certain words, and they constantly second-guess their grammar. The question “Do you speak a language?” comes out sounding, in their ears, a lot like “Have you mastered the language?”

    So how can my foreign students, who by all accounts are doing amazing things in the United States, still feel like they have not arrived? The truth is this: when we focus on mastering a language - perfect pronunciation, complete command of the vocabulary, ability to speak in any and every possible situation -, we are always going to feel insufficient, because by that measure, we all fall short. This way of learning a language is exhausting. A better question than “Do you know the language?” is this: “In the language you are learning, are you creating friendships and experiences?” What I am suggesting is that learners reframe their perspectives. If they are fueled by meeting others, trying new things, and making memories and friendships for themselves, they have a great shot.

    I believe that language learning is, at its core, about relationships and experiences – about connecting and learning from those connections. It is my belief that every story (even those who fail) can teach us something about language learning.

(DIXON, S. The language learner guidebook: powerful tools to help you conquer any language. [S.l.]: Wayzgoose, 2018. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

    So what languages do I know? I speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little French, and a little in a few others. But I would be a bit uncomfortable to say that I ‘know’ all of these languages. The reason for my discomfort is that language learning is such a slow, piece-by-piece process that it is hard to tell when someone has finally ‘arrived’.

    In fact, this idea of ‘arriving’ in language is misguided. Language, you see, is more of a journey than a destination, and most learners never feel comfortable saying they have arrived when asked about how much they know. This is especially true because, as in all educational pursuits, the more you learn, the more you are aware of what you do not know.

    To illustrate, many of my Asian English learning students studying here in Arizona, U.S., are quite proficient in English. However, when people ask them if they speak English, here are the answers I most often hear:

    “I speak okay.”

    “I’m not so good.”

    “I don’t know.”

    The truth is that even these excellent English speakers often feel the distance between them and native-like proficiency. They have accents, they do not know certain words, and they constantly second-guess their grammar. The question “Do you speak a language?” comes out sounding, in their ears, a lot like “Have you mastered the language?”

    So how can my foreign students, who by all accounts are doing amazing things in the United States, still feel like they have not arrived? The truth is this: when we focus on mastering a language - perfect pronunciation, complete command of the vocabulary, ability to speak in any and every possible situation -, we are always going to feel insufficient, because by that measure, we all fall short. This way of learning a language is exhausting. A better question than “Do you know the language?” is this: “In the language you are learning, are you creating friendships and experiences?” What I am suggesting is that learners reframe their perspectives. If they are fueled by meeting others, trying new things, and making memories and friendships for themselves, they have a great shot.

    I believe that language learning is, at its core, about relationships and experiences – about connecting and learning from those connections. It is my belief that every story (even those who fail) can teach us something about language learning.

(DIXON, S. The language learner guidebook: powerful tools to help you conquer any language. [S.l.]: Wayzgoose, 2018. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

    So what languages do I know? I speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little French, and a little in a few others. But I would be a bit uncomfortable to say that I ‘know’ all of these languages. The reason for my discomfort is that language learning is such a slow, piece-by-piece process that it is hard to tell when someone has finally ‘arrived’.

    In fact, this idea of ‘arriving’ in language is misguided. Language, you see, is more of a journey than a destination, and most learners never feel comfortable saying they have arrived when asked about how much they know. This is especially true because, as in all educational pursuits, the more you learn, the more you are aware of what you do not know.

    To illustrate, many of my Asian English learning students studying here in Arizona, U.S., are quite proficient in English. However, when people ask them if they speak English, here are the answers I most often hear:

    “I speak okay.”

    “I’m not so good.”

    “I don’t know.”

    The truth is that even these excellent English speakers often feel the distance between them and native-like proficiency. They have accents, they do not know certain words, and they constantly second-guess their grammar. The question “Do you speak a language?” comes out sounding, in their ears, a lot like “Have you mastered the language?”

    So how can my foreign students, who by all accounts are doing amazing things in the United States, still feel like they have not arrived? The truth is this: when we focus on mastering a language - perfect pronunciation, complete command of the vocabulary, ability to speak in any and every possible situation -, we are always going to feel insufficient, because by that measure, we all fall short. This way of learning a language is exhausting. A better question than “Do you know the language?” is this: “In the language you are learning, are you creating friendships and experiences?” What I am suggesting is that learners reframe their perspectives. If they are fueled by meeting others, trying new things, and making memories and friendships for themselves, they have a great shot.

    I believe that language learning is, at its core, about relationships and experiences – about connecting and learning from those connections. It is my belief that every story (even those who fail) can teach us something about language learning.

(DIXON, S. The language learner guidebook: powerful tools to help you conquer any language. [S.l.]: Wayzgoose, 2018. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

Brian Tomlinson and Hitomi Masuhara, The Complete Guide to the Theory and Practice of Materials Development for Language Learning

    Whenever we look for resources on materials development, it is difficult to find books which bring together theory and practice in an organic manner. This book does precisely that; it provides the practicality of materials development guides and the academic rigour of reports and research studies published in the field.

    Tomlinson and Masuhara’s book has three specific aims. First is to help teachers, researchers and students to know, understand and be constructively critical of what has been achieved to date; secondly to help them develop, adapt, use, review and research materials on their own. Finally, while talking most particularly to teachers, the authors highlight that they want the strong opinions and approaches presented in the book to inspire readers to think independently and to develop and apply innovative approaches on their own.

    These three aims seem to be very ambitious and that is the feeling you get when you read through the chapters. The book includes everything related to the theory and practice in materials development to date, and advocates that theory must inform practice and vice versa. Each of the fifteen chapters ends with a section which includes recommendations for teachers followed by a ‘What do you think?’ section to encourage them to reflect on their own contexts and teaching experience in them.

    Although at times the book seems overwhelming as it attempts to provide everything about materials in language learning, it successfully realizes its aim to address a wide audience from publishers, researchers to teachers.

(https://www.fortell.org. acessado em 02.10.2025. Adaptado)

Leia o texto a seguir para responder à questão:

Brian Tomlinson and Hitomi Masuhara, The Complete Guide to the Theory and Practice of Materials Development for Language Learning

    Whenever we look for resources on materials development, it is difficult to find books which bring together theory and practice in an organic manner. This book does precisely that; it provides the practicality of materials development guides and the academic rigour of reports and research studies published in the field.

    Tomlinson and Masuhara’s book has three specific aims. First is to help teachers, researchers and students to know, understand and be constructively critical of what has been achieved to date; secondly to help them develop, adapt, use, review and research materials on their own. Finally, while talking most particularly to teachers, the authors highlight that they want the strong opinions and approaches presented in the book to inspire readers to think independently and to develop and apply innovative approaches on their own.

    These three aims seem to be very ambitious and that is the feeling you get when you read through the chapters. The book includes everything related to the theory and practice in materials development to date, and advocates that theory must inform practice and vice versa. Each of the fifteen chapters ends with a section which includes recommendations for teachers followed by a ‘What do you think?’ section to encourage them to reflect on their own contexts and teaching experience in them.

    Although at times the book seems overwhelming as it attempts to provide everything about materials in language learning, it successfully realizes its aim to address a wide audience from publishers, researchers to teachers.

(https://www.fortell.org. acessado em 02.10.2025. Adaptado)