http://www.timesunion.com/AspStories/story.asp?storyID=325436
By
WILLIAM
BRANTLEY,
Staff writer
Sunday,
January 23, 2005
In the beginning there was the word, and the word was dog. And the dog was Spot. And Spot was the canine pal of Dick and Jane. And Dick and Jane and Spot poked around in the world of the Elson-Gray Basic Readers, which were typical of the kind of materials that dominated early reading instruction in the United States from the 1930s until the 1960s.
The
readers were written in what became known as the language of "look-and-say."
They were steeped in the philosophy that if a young reader looked at and said a
word often enough, it was bound to be branded as one whole shape into a bustling
young brain.
In
one book, for example, Spot spots a frog behind some bushes. He barks. Jane, two
steps ahead of Dick, calls out: "Look, oh look. Look and see. Come, come see."
In another, Dick tosses a toy airplane over the white picket fence. He says,
"Look. See it go. See it go up." Jane looks and says, "Oh, look. See it go. See
it go up."
Up
is where every educational movement has tried to take reading skills and
literacy rates. As long as there have been hysterical parents, there has been
someone around to envision a better method of teaching children to read. The
problem is that what happens as a child learns to read defies easy explanation,
because no child learns to read in quite the same way as any other. A web of
social, genetic, cognitive, and neurobiological factors influence the relative
ease with which a child learns to read.
But that has never stopped researchers, educators, parents and presidents
from trying to pinpoint what works and doesn't when trying to teach children how
to master the skill that underlies all other learning.
The
coming of phonics
The
look-and-say, or whole word, method got a black eye in 1955, with the
publication of Rudolph Flesch's screed "Why Johnny Can't Read and What You Can
Do About It." Flesch criticized the limited vocabulary and simplicity of
look-and-say and, in its place, promoted the system of phonics. Flesch stressed
the importance of the alphabet and the primacy of the reader being able to
"decode" words by sounding out each letter.
"You
take up one item after another," wrote Flesch, boiling down the idea of
sound-letter correspondence, "learn what it stands for, learn how to reproduce
it and how to recognize it, and there you are."
Phonics
grew in popularity through the 1970s and into the early 1980s.(GS ???!!!) By that time, the arrival of the
so-called whole language system sounded to certain educators like liberation.
Less rigid than phonics instruction, whole language put forth the idea of a
decentralized, more teacher-friendly system that stressed context and reading's
relevance to students' lives.
While
phonics assumed that reading is a mostly unnatural practice that involves
learning to break down an arbitrary communications system (i.e., the alphabet),
whole language revolved around the idea that immersed in the right materials --
actual books instead of programmed readers -- children will naturally pick up on
the sounds and meaning of words without having to have the alphabet drilled into
their heads.
Both
sides now
Phonics
seesawed back into favor in the mid-1990s, after California's high-profile
experiment with whole language was largely blamed for the state's plummeting
test scores. During the past 10 years, a pragmatic middle road has emerged, says
Frank Vellutino, a cognitive psychologist at the University at Albany, who
specializes in reading and language.
A
decade and a half of studies have shown Vellutino that there's something to like
in both phonics and whole language.
"The
research we've done makes it very clear that a child learning to read in an
alphabetic system has got to master the alphabetic code," says Vellutino. "But
as anyone who's attempted to teach a child to read will tell you -- as the whole
language people will tell you -- reading has to be a meaningful enterprise. This
enterprise of decoding symbols has to get children to the point where reading is
a meaning-bearing enterprise."
Where
it starts
What
is indisputable is that reading starts with spoken language, almost immediately
after birth.
After
the first months of life, during which the child's absorbent mind is grasping at
whatever is thrown its way, the highly organized brain begins to narrow its
focus and become more efficient.
"After
four to six months, babies become responsive only to the individual speech
sounds used in the language spoken around them," says Vellutino. "They're trying
to acquire a vocabulary in that language."
By
18 months, a child's vocabulary is mushrooming. Depending on the exposure to the
language and a sensitivity toward it, the child may be picking up a minimum of
nine new words a day at this age.
"Children
learn to shape their vocal tracks," says Laurie Feldman, a cognitive
psychologist who works at both UAlbany and the Haskins Laboratories at Yale
University. "As a kid babbles, the babble gets more and more like the language
that's being spoken around the kid."
Exposure
to writing
At
this point, the environment in which a child is being raised will often
contribute a great deal to the kind of reader he will become. How often, if at
all, does the child see a book or any written language? What and how often do
his parents read to him? Is he exposed to rhyme?
Ideally,
says Vellutino, as a young child's spoken vocabulary continues to grow, he will
be exposed to written language so that he will begin to develop emergent
literacy skills that inform his idea of what written language
is.
"There
are these concepts that a kid acquires about what print is and how print is
organized. He may start to pick up some of those conventions," says Peter
Johnston, a professor in the Reading Department at UAlbany and a senior
researcher for the National Research Center on English Learning and
Achievement.
"In
English, the text is arranged across the page from left to right, through the
book from front to back. There are spaces between the words. Things like spatial
orientation are difficult to acquire. For example, a car is still a car no
matter if it's upside down. But a 'p' is not," says
Johnston.
Making
the connection
These
"print concepts" can start to mold some kind of recognition in the child that
the symbols on the page -- even as their meaning remains foreign -- have some
correlation to the spoken language.
"A kid begins to understand that written language captures spoken
language, that whatever you capture in print is a word and it's a word you can
speak," says Feldman. As all this information comes in, say researchers, some
children are able to organize it easily, so that their understanding of written
language's conventions continue to deepen.
In
other words, some kids get it right away. For others, it takes explicit
instruction, some more than others.
A
crucial step for children learning to read English is the ability to digest
(initially the idea, eventually the actual mechanics) of the
alphabet.
"In
an alphabetic system, like English, the letter symbols represent individual
speech sounds," says Vellutino.
To
be able to figure out how to use the alphabet, a child must be able to identify
the individual speech sounds -- called phonemes -- that correspond to letters.
For example, that the word "cat," though only one syllable, consists of three
individual speech sounds. Think of the animated child pointing out letter sounds
on "Sesame Street": "kuh"-"a"-"tuh."
(Alphabetic
systems like English differ from logographic, or pictorial, languages like
Chinese. In alphabetic systems, the individual symbols -- letters -- take on
meaning only after they've been combined into words, those words arranged into
sentences. Logographic languages, like Chinese, have symbols that represent not
just sounds, but concepts. So that an individual character means something on it
own.)
"In
an alphabetic system, you have a small number of characters that are combined in
an infinite number of ways," says Vellutino. "A child who has mastered the
alphabetic code is able to parse out individual speech
sounds."
Once
a child can identify the letters of the alphabet and parse out those speech
sounds, says Feldman, the child is beginning to learn to read, beginning to
recognize that dog is the word for the thing that barks and not just a spot on
the page.
Overcoming
illiteracy begins with alphabet
According
to Frank Vellutino, a cognitive developmental psychologist at the University at
Albany, research has shown that illiterate adults learning to read must go
through the same stages as children do to "crack the alphabetic code." Once an
adult knows and can use the alphabet, he may progress as a reader faster than a
child does. Why? Because:
*
A stronger vocabulary helps with word identification and reading
comprehension.
*
More knowledge about the world in general helps with reading
comprehension.
*
Better developed reasoning abilities (and better developed cognitive
abilities in general) help with reading comprehension.
*
Stronger powers of concentration and a deeper motivation to improve help
drive reading improvements.
On
the other hand, says Peter Johnston, a researcher at the Center for English
Learning and Achievement at UAlbany, many illiterate adults have had some
unsuccessful attempts at reading before.
"There
are a number of complications that happen as you get older," says Johnston,
pointing to the possibility of low self-esteem, learning difficulties and the
more urgent call of daily life. "Normally, an adult who's learning to read has a
bunch of scar tissue. They have a lot of useful stuff, but there's also a lot of
stuff that gets in the way."
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