The COVID era, with all of its accompanying changes and challenges, put to rest any questions we might have had about the possibility and desirability of teaching languages online. The field of foreign language education has been wrestling with its relationship with technology for many years, and the transition online, though crisis-prompted, did not find us unprepared for teaching in new modalities. We adjusted our instructional plans (thank you, Anchor, thank you, Chelsea Timlin), tested our hypotheses with new educational tools, applied our new research-based knowledge, and zoomed along on a journey that ended up being a little longer than our optimistic Mediterranean collective had imagined.

For the last fourteen months, we have perambulated the physical and intellectual landscapes of our horizons, come up with the obligatory zoom puns in our respective languages (ξεΖΟΥΜιστήκαμε, zumbado, and apéro-zoom at the end of a Zoom-mediated day), compared notes and anecdotes about reliable and valid assessment, how to resolve issues of digital equity, and, like any seasoned language instructor worth their weight in salt, we used the tools of our trade to reflect transculturally on the world of our synchronous and asynchronous online classes and the world as we once knew it: the world of physical presence and affective interpersonal communication.

While the world continued to burn, both in the US and in our respective countries, with racial tensions, the tragic toll of the pandemic, the divisive rhetoric of politicians and the repercussions of an economic and migrant crisis, we found ourselves devising new kinds of “minimum core vocabulary"—in addition to the new glossary of terms and netiquettes required for a respectful online community—to engage with the new realities around us. Like everyone else, we sat in front of our screens day after day, being let into our students’ homes and, oftentimes, into their home lives. The same technology that facilitated the continuation of instruction also helped to underscore the things that are irreplaceable, the dramatic divergence of the online experience, and the disparities of remote learning.

This essay is about our moments of discovery and realization, about what we gained and what we learnt in our year of being together, apart.

In 1958, French-Canadian linguists Jean-Paul Vinay and Jean Darbelnet examined the linguistic aspects of translation in what is now considered their seminal work, Stylistique comparée du français et de l'anglais : méthode de traduction. The taxonomy of translation strategies they proposed lists seven "procedures" of translation that can be used to attain equivalence. As language courses transitioned online in March of 2020, the main two procedures—transposition and modulation—soon became a metaphor for our new remote environment. Whereas transposition involves grammatical categories (moving from one grammatical category to another), modulation concerns primarily the semantic and pragmatic levels (moving from one point of view to another). Although the two procedures are very different in nature, they are often intertwined, and they both came to represent, in our mind, our new reality. The transition of our courses online—their transposition—triggered a reshaping, or modulation—of approaches and classroom activities. The very nature of language classes (their size, content, and interactivity; their focus on the development of common problem-solving strategies; the role that affect plays in language learning) is an important aspect of community building, and that certainly facilitated this transition. And yet, what is physically and immediately possible in person is not necessarily possible online, in the same way that what is grammatically and structurally possible in one language is not necessarily possible in another. It is commonly believed that, in the process of translation, total equivalence is rarely achieved. But while losses are inevitable, sometimes we also make valuable gains.

It came as no surprise that, in this case, the gains had to do with the affordances of instructional technologies that are aligned to learning outcomes and are not used uncritically. The firm, and by no means new, belief that pedagogy drives technology— and not the other way around—allowed us to adopt the tools that served our goals and improved accessibility, team-work and achievement of outcomes. We utilized the flexibility of recorded materials, especially when it came to explanation and the introduction of new concepts and structures, so students could access them at their convenience and as many times as needed. In-class use of collaborative tools such as Google Docs enabled students to work together more efficiently, encouraged mutual support, and heightened a sense of ownership in the course, while allowing instructors to engage and provide immediate, more effective feedback and, as importantly, to model and contribute to the lively supportive learning community we seek to create.

Outside of class, other tools facilitated students’ in-depth engagement with the materials and with each other. Annotation-enabled assignments developed students’ critical reading skills through digital social reading. Oral activities were optimized with tools such as GoReact, which students used to video-record individual activities or group discussions for later instructor review. Not only were students more focused on the task at hand and attentive to successful communication in the target language, but instructors could also fine-tune feedback and give time-stamped comments on the exact features of the language under review. Written, asynchronous discussions encouraged thoughtful contributions and interactions from every student: students who speak up in class as well as those who tend to be quiet had the opportunity to express their ideas. What is more, everyone was required to engage with the ideas of others, which deepened the learning experience of each individual and of the group.

One unexpected aspect of our experience was a more nuanced understanding of how affect creates an atmosphere conducive to learning in an online environment: we learned more about who our students are and where they come from, their vulnerabilities and their strengths. They were also witnesses to ours. The new classroom brought with it more democratic and less hierarchical relations. As we—both faculty and students—found ourselves removed from the learning environment that we had built in our classrooms, we often struggled to teach and learn in our homes and dorm rooms, where levels of physical and mental space, infrastructure and support all varied. This brought about a deeper awareness of students’ personal challenges, inequities, and a more concrete sense of what inclusivity might mean for us.

Even though we firmly believe that something can be gained and that it is possible to create a productive, de-hierarchized and equitable learning environment online, we also think that nothing can ever fully replace the connections that are forged in the actual classroom or the unmediated reactivity that in-person instruction allows, with all the benefits of the paralinguistic features that it affords. Relationships, among students, colleagues, between students and professors, shape learning outcomes, including intangible ones, and the personal experiences of our students as they embark on the journey of constructing their identities and exploring beliefs and affiliations in the landscape of another language and culture. The feeling of kinship that develops when working side by side, the motivation that emerges from the energy in the room, the encouragement that can be offered to a student we see struggling, the sense of compassion and care that is signaled when an office door is left open, all those are impossible to replicate as effectively in the online environment.

We look forward to being reunited with our students and colleagues—old and new—on campus in the fall.