Advanced English and Exams (B2, C1, C2)

Today, our wonderful friend and colleague, Victoria Gracheva, is celebrating her birthday. Victoria is our much-loved methodologist and leads our TESOL courses. Her passion for teaching is truly commendable, and her thoughtful methodological guidance has shaped and inspired many aspiring teachers who have joined our school. We are proud to work with you and incredibly lucky to have you with us. Happy birthday, Victoria!

Karina: Have you already checked out the article "There's No Shame in Reading Whatever Books You Want – Literary Snobs Be Damned"? 👀 Now it's time to take the discussion further. I've put together a brand-new Speaking Pack based on the article. It features a number of thought-provoking questions and debate tasks to help you explore its ideas in greater depth. Have you been looking for more ideas and structure in your study buddy sessions? This pack is designed to get you thinking (and speaking!) about literary snobbery, the idea of a literary canon, guilty pleasures, and what makes a book truly valuable. From now on, you can access all our materials in one place. Visit the Resources page on our website 🖤✨

A couple of days ago, we posted a TED-Ed video about reading. I chose this particular one not only because of the topic, but also because of its rich, expressive language. Today, I'd like to share some of the collocations from the video. They're both vivid and genuinely useful if you'd like to make your English sound more natural and nuanced. Happy learning!

Most students dread tests: by their very nature, they are often depressing and artificial, leaning towards a black-and-white approach. Even worse, the vast majority of standardised examinations do not aim to reward what a candidate can do, but penalise each and every mistake. The Russian community knows this very well; the notorious Unified State Exam is a case in point. Cambridge is different. Designed around the CEFR, its examinations focus on can-do statements rather than cannot-do statements, thereby providing meaningful and universally recognised results. IELTS is not entirely different in this respect, although the approaches of the two systems are fundamentally distinct. Cambridge examinations assess communicative competence within a specific level. This is why they are built around the skills expected at B2, C1 or C2. If a candidate does not demonstrate sufficient competence at the target level, the level below may still be awarded; if the examination proves too easy, the candidate may be placed at the level above. One target level and two possible alternatives. IELTS, by contrast, is a predictive test. Its purpose is different, since it aims to determine whether a candidate is likely to cope in an academic or professional environment. The “level” itself is secondary. For years, here at AEE, we followed the principles of communicative competence testing. This resulted in separate tests for different levels. They were shortened adaptations of Cambridge examinations: instead of eight questions in an open cloze, for example, we might give only four. And this worked; I cannot say that it did not. However, the testing process was lengthy, and more often than not we had to send a candidate another test when the original results did not appear particularly valid, especially if the test had proved far too easy or far too difficult. This led us to begin work on a new and rather massive project: an adaptive entry test. The idea was simple in theory: depending on the answers given, the level of the questions should change automatically. However, once I began working on it, I realised that it would require months of work, both in methodology and coding. Now, after weeks of trials and validation, the test comprises between 25 and 50 questions. The first five are the same for every candidate, but then the magic begins. There is a database of approximately 500 questions covering grammar (structure, modality and aspect), vocabulary (collocation, idioms, phraseology and precision), organisation (linking and discourse patterns), and practical English usage (register, appropriacy and tone). All of these reflect CEFR expectations at different levels. If a candidate answers the questions successfully, they become progressively more challenging. If mistakes are made, the test adapts to the candidate’s needs. This creates a more holistic testing environment: candidates feel relatively comfortable while taking the test because it remains challenging without becoming insurmountable. The teacher then sees the result — the predictive result. It is absolutely essential to emphasise this. The test is methodologically designed to establish the “floor”: the lowest level at which the candidate can function consistently. This is deliberate. The vast majority of our students are English teachers, and we need to ensure that we do not place them in a group whose demands they are not yet ready to meet. For a similar reason, the test also establishes a “ceiling”. If questions from the level above are consistently answered incorrectly, this indicates that, despite the candidate’s ambitions, it would be far more prudent to complete the lower level first. We will be using the new entry test this year when our admissions campaign begins. By the way, that will be very soon — on 3 August — so stay tuned. [Read more in the comments .... ]

Today, I'm thrilled to share one of my favourite TED Talks, which I've turned into a CAE Listening (Part 2) task. The talk explores how fiction has shaped our ideas about society, relationships, and even the world we live in. It's another reminder of something I've always believed about reading: books can influence us far beyond entertainment. P.S. The keys are in the comments!

How about having a go at our new trio? 🤓 Don't forget to hide your answer, using the 'spoiler' formatting!

Our courses follow a clear progression: you can begin your language journey at B1+ with a General English course and then climb all the way to what once seemed like the unattainable heights of Proficiency. This may sound like a fairy tale, but it can - and does - come true. This September, quite a few of our students will begin the second Advanced course (C1.2). These are the very same students who, several years ago, struggled with the entrance test for our General Upper-Intermediate course. Fascinating. Come to think of all the plateaus they have had to overcome, all the vocabulary they have had to scrutinise and master, and all the grammar they have practised to near perfection. With all the intensive courses, language marathons and magic pills the internet has to offer these days, our students have opted for consistency, and we would like to thank them for that. If anything, it is their studiousness and dedication that keep us going. Thank you, and see you in September.

This message from one of our participants perfectly sums up what our Speaking Club is all about. Last week, we spent 90 minutes discussing the psychology of time: why some moments drag while others whizz by, whether we can make life feel longer, and how memory shapes our perception of time. Somewhere between debating mindfulness, holidays, routines and new experiences, time itself quietly proved the article's point. Over the first half of the summer, we've explored all sorts of thought-provoking topics: the rise of "admin nights", whether success can be achieved by rewiring your brain, how social media and AI are changing the way we consume information, and why handmade objects might be the new luxury. Our discussions are based on carefully chosen articles that introduce fresh ideas and plenty of room for disagreement. Rather than simply practising English, we exchange perspectives, challenge assumptions, and leave with something new to think about. If you'd like to spend your summer discussing ideas that stay with you long after the session ends, we'd love to have you join us for the second half of the summer.

C1+/C2 — Thursday 18:00 Moscow time B2+/C1 — Sunday 12:00 Moscow time

Message Karina @punkyheart to join 📩

As you know, I held a webinar on Dramione about a week ago. While preparing, I was asked ‘Why is it worthy of literary analysis?’. Actually, scratch that. I was outright told ‘it is unworthy of analysis’. And while I do understand where my acquaintance (let’s call him Chad for anonymity) was coming from to a certain extent, such a categorical dismissal of thousands of works and authors made me a little… sad for him. Today, I came across a wonderful article on the Guardian. There, Emily Maguire, now an award-winning writer and journalist, shares her own struggles in the literary world and how she was made feel ‘less-than’ because her reading habits did not live up to the expectations of a so-called serious reader. If Chad could read in English, I would send this article to him right away. He needs it. Between this article, Chad's comments, and my own experience as a reader, I came to one conclusion. When picking up a book, we should not ask ourselves whether we will be viewed as smart for reading it. Instead, we should ask: does it make me think, rethink, question something? Does it move me on some level, does it make me feel? If the answer is yes, it is worth reading. It is worth analysing. Period. Enjoy it as a guilt-FREE pleasure and do not let anyone’s snide remarks — including mine — make you feel self-conscious. Now — I’m not saying books should never be criticised. Of course they should. It is important, however, to ascertain what we criticise a particular work for — is it because there are plot holes and discrepancies? Because characters are poorly written? The style is inconsistent and the prose is convoluted? Harmful ideals perpetuated? Or is it because it does not belong to the ‘proper’ or ‘smart’ category? And who said it doesn’t? It is okay not to like something. I know that my cup of tea may well be something that makes you nauseated (or worse — bored) and am not intent on shoving the proverbial tea down anyone’s throat. Tastes do, after all, differ. But if we, like Chad, pigeonhole a book as ‘low-brow’ or ‘unworthy’ based solely on the genre it belongs to, we just might end up making our own world smaller and duller — which is the very opposite of what reading is supposed to be. P.S. I compiled a 👩‍🏫 Quizlet set with vocabulary from the article — hope you find it useful! Chad didn’t.

A few days ago, I held the webinar Dramione in Trope Analysis: Beyond the Good Girl and Bad Boy Framework. Researching this topic was quite a ride, so I'm truly grateful to everyone who joined. Thank you for being the best audience I could have wished for — attentive, perceptive, and genuinely engaged. If you didn't have a chance to attend but are still interested in what we discussed, here's the recording of the webinar. I hope you find it interesting!

Candidates striving for excellence - and teachers genuinely trying to help them - often turn to AI in search of more sophisticated language. Unfortunately, what they frequently receive is not better thinking but simply longer lists of elegant-looking expressions. The essay gradually becomes an exercise in deploying impressive phrases instead of communicating meaningful ideas. Unsurprisingly, the result is often verbose, mechanical, and surprisingly shallow. I now encounter these empty texts far too often. Initially, I blamed the candidates. Today, I believe the issue lies elsewhere. It is, at least partly, the format itself. Whenever a task becomes sufficiently predictable, adaptation is inevitable. Candidates simply optimise for what appears to be rewarded. Adaptation, however, should never mean sacrificing flexibility. Candidates (and teachers, for that matter) should remember that ideas remain the centre of good writing. The text should reflect an argument, not a template. Will it contain some of those familiar Cambridge phrases? Quite possibly. But they should serve as signposts for the reader, marking the functional stages of the discussion - not replacing the writer's own voice. Only then, I believe, does writing become communication again, rather than performance.

How Cambridge Kills Flexibility For years, Cambridge exams have been regarded as the gold standard of language assessment. They were believed to foster creativity, encourage the natural use of English, and promote genuine language development. Compared with other CEFR-based examinations, such as IELTS or TOEFL, Cambridge stood apart by avoiding overly straightforward tasks in favour of more demanding ones that scrutinised learners' communicative competence through the lens of the CEFR can-do statements. This philosophy gave rise to tasks such as Key Word Transformations, Gapped Texts, Cross-text Matching, and many others that have since become synonymous with Cambridge examinations. Cambridge has never been a mainstream exam. In the past, it was accepted by relatively few universities and visa authorities. It was an examination mostly pursued by language enthusiasts, and as candidates climbed the Cambridge ladder, their numbers naturally declined. This changed with the introduction of the unified Cambridge English Scale. Suddenly, certificates no longer merely stated Pass or Grade A; they provided a score out of 230 that institutions could readily interpret for admissions, employment, or immigration purposes. For Cambridge Assessment, the decision was undoubtedly a commercial success. The new scale made the exams more transparent, more widely applicable, and consequently more attractive to a broader range of candidates and institutions. Commercial success, however, should not obscure another important fact: Cambridge exams remain, in my opinion, one of the most sophisticated assessment systems available. Unlike IELTS, which is primarily predictive, Cambridge examinations assess communicative competence within a defined proficiency band and provide a remarkably detailed profile of a candidate's strengths and weaknesses. Yet every unified system comes at a price. A standardised scale requires a standardised format, and a rigid format inevitably begins to shape behaviour. While most Cambridge papers continue to reflect authentic language use because they are firmly grounded in the CEFR descriptors, there is one component where I believe flexibility has gradually become a casualty: Writing. Today's Cambridge Writing paper consists of two tasks: a compulsory essay and one task chosen from several genres. On paper, this appears to offer freedom. Candidates can choose the genre they feel most comfortable with. In reality, however, the compulsory essay has gradually become one of the most formulaic pieces of writing in exam preparation. The change did not happen overnight, nor was it driven by bad intentions. In many ways, it happened quietly -- right under our noses. Because the essay task follows a predictable format, it naturally lends itself to preparation. Countless preparation books present candidates with model answers, each introducing a familiar set of phrases and discourse patterns. Any well-prepared CPE candidate will recognise them immediately: "Both texts..." "The overarching theme..." "The first author claims..." "The second text sheds light on..." There is absolutely nothing wrong with these expressions. None of them are incorrect, and many are genuinely useful. The problem is different. Students become exposed to them so frequently that they gradually begin writing around the phrases instead of around their ideas. With every draft, another ready-made structure is added. Eventually, what emerges is not a genuine discursive essay but something resembling one - a carefully assembled collection of functional expressions with remarkably little individuality. The result is a text that is grammatically competent, structurally sound, yet strangely lifeless. The candidate disappears beneath layers of clichés, while their ideas remain underdeveloped because the writing process becomes one of fitting thoughts into memorised templates rather than developing an argument. Artificial intelligence only accelerates this process.

Today is the day! Our webinar, Dramione in Trope Analysis, begins at 19:00. If you've already registered, please keep an eye on your inbox. The webinar link will be sent today at 17:00 to the email address you used when signing up. If you don't see the email, please check your Spam/Junk folder. If it's there, click "Not Spam" so the webinar link reaches your inbox as well. If you're still thinking about joining, there's still time to register. See you at 19:00!

Dear language enthusiasts, Here's a quick reminder that our webinar, Dramione in Trope Analysis, is taking place tomorrow at 19.00! We'll explore why Dramione isn't simply a Good girl / Bad boy romance, how fanfiction transforms Draco into a Byronic hero, why Hermione goes far beyond the "good girl" archetype, and what makes this pairing so compelling. If you've registered, please check your email. Your registration confirmation — and later the webinar link — will be sent to the same email address. If you can't find the email: 1) please check your Spam/Junk folder; 2) if it's there, click "Not Spam" so the webinar link will arrive in your inbox as well. If you have not registered yet, you can join us here. See you tomorrow!

Curious readers (and Harry Potter fans), this one's for you. This Friday, I'm hosting a webinar Dramione in Trope Analysis: Beyond the Good Girl/Bad Boy Framework. We'll explore the ship through the lens of literary analysis and how thousands of writers, across different countries and over more than two decades, have collectively shaped a remarkably consistent set of themes, tropes, and character dynamics. We'll talk about: - Dramione as a cultural phenomenon; - how Hermione both embodies and subverts the Good Girl archetype; - how fanon Draco evolved into a Byronic hero; - and why Dramione is not a classic good girl/bad boy romance. If you enjoy character analysis, literary archetypes, or simply overthinking fictional characters, come join us. It should be fun — and unapologetically nerdy.  Date: Friday, 18 July, 2026   Time: 19:00-19:40  Format: Live online