John Bald/language and literacy

A year on (piano)...

It's been a long time since the last update. Yesterday and this morning, I played from memory a Schubert impromptu, a Beethoven sontina, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, and Solfegetto by a younger Bach. In other words, progress. A few wrong notes, which I correct, but I now think I'm winning, and have got past something like the tipping point that exists in reading teaching, where a child suddenly finds they know enough to use what they know to work out what they don't.

How have I got there (or thereabouts...)?   My two teachers, first Roger Ward, and later Patrick Hemmerle, have had the patience and understanding that characterises the finest teachers. Roger in particular helped me through the phase during which I had to read and understand one note at a time, and went at it pig-headedly, the determination leading to progress, but very slow progress, held back by my tendency to try to play things at final tempo as soon as I'd worked out the notes, and getting frustrated as a result. Patrick has also told me more often than I can count to play more slowly, and I've now just about managed it. The change came about as I was looking bleak failure in the face, and simply could not afford to fail - I've tried and failed too often at music in the past, with guitar and accordion, and time has now run out.

But I was also understanding a bit more. The Schubert was a huge task. I had to build up each chord one note at a time, and it was excruciating. Add to that that I didn't much like it, at least the way I played it, and neither did my wife. Holding down one bass note while playing another was equally difficult. Patrick sat beside me on one lesson, and must have said "lift your thumb" twenty times before I understood that it was just my thumb I had to lift, and not the other finger as well. The second part of the impromptu had big, angry chords - Schubert had every right to be angry - and again, I had to put each of them together one note at a time, with some complicated harmonies. "Je vous prie, concentrez-vous", said Patrick. So I did. Again and again and again. At least there was no way I could play this piece too quickly - the challenge was to play it at all. Patrick played it for me, and I liked it better, which helped. But I was taken to the limit of my persevernce, over several weeks, and was very close to giving up. An American inventor, Edison, apparently said that most people give up when they are close to success. I didn't believe it. But then I went back one week and played the first part of the impromptu from memory. Not well, you understand, but from memory. Patrick was surprised. Then the second part, some weeks later. "This will take you some more time, I think, till you become comfortable with it."  And so it has.

Similary the sonatina. This is apparently a common piece for children to learn at about the age of 11 or 12. I found it very difficult too at first. I told Roger I was doing it, and he thought it was a good piece for me to build flow and evenness. He also liked the Schubert, which he saw more as a "touch" piece. Whenever  I could, I put the Beethoven to the end of a practice session, and so skipped it. Patrick was not pleased. He'd picked this piece carefully for me. Once again, I was enjoined to concentrate, and, as soon as I could stagger through the first page, to learn it by heart.

Patrick's technique for learning by heart is interesting - you practise two bars at a time, over and over until you can play them from memory. Then two more. On these pieces I found it very hard to learn more than four bars a day, max, and sometimes just two.  But eight days, sixteen bars, and I didn't forget what I was learning.

The soniatina is in two main sections. The first is fairly brisk all the way through (and I played it too briskly to start with). The second is a rondo, starting quickly  and with some awkward fingering, then with a delightful slow section that I found even more difficult, and a return to the brisk part. I found the key to being able to play the whole piece lay in beginning to see how much of it was composed of split-up chords. Once I could see these, I was not quite so stuck picking out one note at a time. The awkward fingering involved a kind of toggling on a higher and lower F, and, as a clumsy soul, it took me weeks to build up the necessary co-ordination. I still have an idea that a lot of this piece involves toggling between chords, and not just adding decoration. Patrick said I didn't need to understand all of teh notes and chords to be able to play it. I'm not sure. Maybe most people don't, but if I don't fully understand something, whatever it is, I can't learn. More on this later.

Lightbulbs and the Ignocracy.

New words are to be avoided unless they're needed, but my modest suggestion of ignocracy to describe the tyrannical imposition of stupid ideas, practices and items for political purposes is increasingly compelling. OED are interested, but need evidence of more widespread use of the word before they can include it. Recent examples of ignocracy include the DCSF's discouragement of parents accompanying children on school trips, Ofsted's thuggish, ill-informed and ineffective approach to inspecting schools and social services, and now lightbulbs.

Professor Arnold Wilkins has been writing about the effects of lighting on work, reading and health for over twenty years. I have written about the issue, over the years,  in the Telegraph, TES, Guardian, Times and Mail on Sunday. Getting on for a full house. The ignocracy - beginning with a former Conservative Minister of State, Tim Eggar, who refused to discuss the issue - takes no notice. It lives in a world of its own, dismissing as "perceptions" any opposing views, whatever their basis. Ignocracy differs from fascism, Stalinism and the Khmer Rouge in that it does not lock up and murder its opponents. Its mindset is otherwise very similar, and its strategy is to marginalise its critics and to ignore them. What an ignocrat says is right because he or she says so. If it weren't right, they wouldn't have said it. Anyone who disagrees is therefore wrong. It's a matter of logic. 

Well, the imposition of fluorescent lightbulbs is not right. It is anti-literate, because it discourages reading - even those of us who are not subject to headaches and illnesses often find it uncomfortable, and it is a hidden cause of many serious educational problems, some of them leading to violent behaviour - see Asberger's or a Reading Problem on this weblog. It's now, at least, got into mainstream media and the BBC News. The ignocracy won't take any notice of that either.

Terminology, language and grammar 2

tbc

Asberger's or a reading problem? Update, January 09

Peter came to see me with his father on Saturday - 110 miles each way. Peter finds his new school "fantastic" and worked with me for two hours on aspects of tables, spelling, and writing. As my approach involves careful introduction of new material so that the child does not have too much at once, the atmosphere appeared leisurely, but with plenty of flashbacks to reinforce points he was finding difficult. Tables are now in place, with a little hesitation sometimes on 7s and 8s that we are working on. The shortcut of counting in multiples has been left behind. We are working hard on spelling, and this time focused on when to use extra letters in words, and when to use k rather than c, as this had caused Peter problems. His independent writing remains around L2, but he is increasingly confident with full stops, and is learning to build it up. His revised writing, with his father's help, is now in line with L3.

As readers will know from previous postings, Peter's difficulties, and the failure of professionals involved to indentify his obvious sensitivity to light, prevented him from receiving a primary education, and resulted in violent behaviour towards teachers and family that posed a real threat to his future, as well as to others' safety. Peter has had very few disciplinary problems in secondary school, and none at all in his new school. We have had, in effect, to build his work up from W at the same time as tackling a secondary curriculum, and we are succeeding. Peter's case provides the strongest evidence yet for including screening for sensitivity to light in all SEN procedures. His behaviour and attitudes are simply inconsistent with Asberger's syndrome, and his previous assessment was the result of failure to consider all aspects of the problem. I am happy to put people in an official position in touch with his family if they would like to consider the case further. Peter's mother is a county badminton player, and Peter reached the quarter finals of a county tournament himself last week.

Patrick Hemmerle concerts

Patrick Hemmerle, first prize winner at the Paris Conservatoire, continues his concert series in Cambridge with these dates:

Le 6 Fevrier Trinity College, Chopin Liszt Rachmaninoff Debussy.8 pm,

Le 14  Wolson College 1 pm, programme Chopin Liszt Rachmaninoff Scriabin Ligetti.

Patrick  has recently returned in triumph from Germany, having performed the Hammerklavier Sonata in Heidelberg - and after, as he says, eight months' hard work on the piece.  Patrick also has a small number of vacancies for pupils at his home in Cambridge. Just don't take my slot!  Contact Patrick at pianopat@free.fr
 

Writing in Primary Languages - painless, effective, and a contribution to literacy.

Readers of this weblog will know that I consider copying to be a blight on education and an obstacle to learning. I've given initial accounts of alternatives in previous postings - using Clicker for sentence building, and having children hold whole sentences (short ones at first, of course) in their heads and writing them from memory cuts out copying, and builds confidence and understanding. The next piece in the jigsaw comes earlier still, and worked so well in lessons at Harrington Hill Primary School, Hackney, yesterday morning that I'm posting it straight away.

I've been using Joseph Biswell's verb song to teach être, with a lot of success. Having sung the song with gestures, children then sing it in the negative, shaking their heads as they do so (a challenge, shaking head and pointing at same time). They find this great fun. What's the word that the French use instead of not? Pas. Who thinks pas has two letters? Who thinks three? What's the last letter we don't pronounce?  Now write pas on your sleeve with your finger. Who got it right? Who remembered the s at the end? If you didn't, have another go. I watch as a child writes again on his sleeve, this time remembering the s. Now everyone has it right. Good for morale. This is a Y3 class, and has had Fr for half an hour a week, with a little reinforcement from teacher each week. Next, I ask them to write je suis on their sleeve in the same way. What's the letter we don't pronounce at the end of suis?  s.  We look at the ui, which we'll come back to in En spelling - fruit, biscuit, circuit. Tracey Griffiths, the class teacher, agrees to practise je suis with anyone who needs it before next week. Oh, and what's this book title? - Pas maintenant, Bernard.

To Year 4.  Etre is a verb. What kind of word is a verb?  A doing word. Yes, usually. Most verbs do things. But some don't. Etre doesn't do anything. A table is in the corner. It doesn't do anything (My French colleagues call these verbes d'état.) Each sentence needs a verb, because verbs bring other words together and give them purpose. Verbs are important words, and have a name, just like people. We can often find the name of an English verb using Michel Thomas's trick of putting to in front of it and seeing if it makes sense. To eat makes sense, to door doesn't. Note the word usually - children need to understand that languages are human, and so don't always behave.

So, to write être. Who can hear the first sound? All but one can, and they can hear it with careful repetition. Who can hear the t. All can. The r. All can. The e at the end. Most can, but some have to learn it as an extra letter. Write that on your sleeve. Now look at être on the board. What can you see that you wouldn't see in an English word? Yes, that little hat. Who can hear that? No hands go up. Excellent.  I explain the origin of the circumflex accent. We then go into a rhythmic sequence e little hat t r e  ... e little hat t r e...several times, while I remove the word from the board. Now write it on your sleeve. Now on your whiteboards.  All got it right except for one who wrote little hat after the e. More explanation of circumflex, and they all got it right.

So what? So this. They've got something completely right, which boosts morale, and it's advanced French for their age, as well as a very high frequency word. Both classes and their teachers were as pleased as punch. They have learned that in writing in French they need to watch things at the ends of words that they can't here. They've understood the circumflex accent (I'll post more detail on this in a separate post). And they've understood that writing in French is something they can do and enjoy. Je suis will let them write some simple sentences, as well as allowing me to teach them a key point in language learning and how to avoid the obvious pitfall. The next post will cover Years 5 and 6, and will have more on the contribution of this approach to literacy in English.

Bush's legacy - The Oaf of Office

The US Chief Justice's bungling of the simplest public task of his life shows that attention to detail is important in language, and much more important than the left-wing view of English teaching (Whole Language in the US) would suggest.  Bush and the British left-winger John Prescott (until recently, deputy prime minister) have different sets of excuses for not paying attention to detail. Bush admitted to a personal limitation and jokingly blamed his mother, who, he said, had established her literacy charity "out of guilt". Prescott blamed the class system - this is the only idea he has ever had, and so covers everything.

The Chief Justice had no excuse. He had plenty of time to practise, and if in doubt, should have read it out. His private shame at having to be summoned to the White House to do his corrections can only be imagined - we are not told how Obama responded to his repeat offer of congratulations. But he has at least ensured that Dubbya, who appointed him, was more than a spectator at the swearing in ceremony.

GCSE requirements summary

These are some notes for the guidance of Hackney primary teachers considering taking GCSE this year with AQA.

 

GCSE Requirements Summarised.

 

1. Foundation Tier, Grades G to C.  Higher Tier, Grades D to A*. Higher tier chiefly requires ability to put verbs into one past and one future tense - eg 

 

Tengo que trabajar

Tuvé que trabajar

Voy a tener que trabajar

Almost all the writing you do is in the first person.

 

2. Topics

 

·         My world

·         Holiday Time and Travel

·         Work and Lifestyle

·        The young person in society.

 

3. Components

 

Speaking. 8-10mins Foundation – role play, presentation of 30-90 seconds, questions, two to three topics.  You are allowed 10 mins prep time – ie you can make some notes and speak from them.

Listening test. 25%, 30 mins foundation, 40mins higher. Includes preparation time. Can be from any part of the syllabus, but mostly short items. The main difficulty with higher is probably the speed.

Reading test. Mostly short items, and often answers are ticking boxes.

Writing. Three pieces of coursework – total 250-200 words foundation, total 4-500 words higher. Three different themes (these can be the same themes you choose for speaking). Controlled conditions for at least one of these. You may complete a draft, which will be returned to you with an official comment sheet – you can then work on the draft in the light of the sheet, and complete the coursework assessment.  (QCA, p86 has directions, and these can be used for planning)

 

Game Plan

For both tiers, you need to be able to construct simple sentences in Spanish in speaking and writing, and to be able to recognise them in listening and reading. The listening and reading will include some irrelevant information in order to try to confuse you - this is not my idea, and I think it is educationally unsound.

 

You need

Some sentence hubs, positive and negative, that you can build sentences around.

Practice in listening, to get used to speed

A clear plan to build up skills on your selected topics

A buddy.

15 minutes protected time each day, at your discretion.

 

 

Half the civil service should be sacked - Digby Jones

This link from the Guardian may seem unusual in a languages weblog, but it is highly relevant. Sir James Rose has just summed up primary language recommendations in a single section of his report, and learning goals in a paragraph. The ignocracy at the DCSF produced a 72 page folder, with some pages containing no more than a pair of inverted commas, to say a lot less. In addition to its essential services, the civil service produces thousands of tons of waste paper and ring binders that wrap education in jargon, usually with the aim of establishing a culture of political correctness so that no opportunity to "mould" people's thinking is left untaken.

This needs to be opposed systematically. No word or phrase introduced by the government - and I do not mean just by NuLab, as the Tory Kenneth Baker was as bad - should be adopted where an English word or phrase will do the job. Which half should be sacked? The half that has become a cross-departmental ministry of propaganda, under the slogan "joined up government". (They have failed on joined up handwriting, by allowing children to reach the required level in primary schools without being able to do this.) They could start by having one press officer per department, and the media could promote this by not basing stories any more on government announcements. Digby Jones should be encouraged to continue his review department by department. The deadwood at the DCFS and its quangos probably amounts to more than half.

Terminology, language and grammar 1

Terminology should explain language and make it clear to people. Too much of the terminology we use now needs to be explained itself, turning it into a barrier instead of a help. Most current terminology originates in academic investigations of language, carried out by people who can use Latin and Greek roots to create new words for the things they find. Scholars find recurring patterns, such as a vowel sound that is written with two letters instead of one - Vowel sound written with two letters is a mouthful, so digraph was born. The trouble is that both  di and graph are Greek, and Greek is not part of the frame of reference of learners, be they five year olds learning to read, or adults with weak literacy skills. So, before they can use digraph, they have to learn it, as an abstract term coming from roots of which they know nothing. Most manage this, but some don't. Phoneme is worse - all it means is a single sound.

There is a better way, based on Jerome Bruner's idea of a "courteous translation" of adult concepts into a form that children can easily understand. Using this principle, I talk simply of a group of letters. Everyone knows what a group is, and even young children know about working together, as the letters do to represent a sound. A group of letters can therefore be explained in terms of language they already know, leaving more time to explain how these groups work, rather than explaining the term digraph for its own sake. 

Then take vowel, one of the two most important words in grammar (the other is verb). A vowel is a sound made with the voice, and comes from French. Take roi, king. Anything to do with the king is royal in French, and there is no change when the word moves to English. French for voice is voix, giving voyel. When this word moved to English, the y changed to w, giving us vowel. Unfortunately, the term vowel has come to be associated with a group of letters, aeiou, in a way that makes no connection between them and the voice, so that most teachers I work with do not understand that vowel is first of all a sound and not simply a category of letter. I was forty before I found this out myself, at the hands of the eminent French linguist Nina Catache, who banged the table at dinner, surprised at my ignorance, and almost shouted at me  Une voyelle n'est pas une lettre, elle est un son. It is important for a child to understand what a vowel is - their misconceptions often lead them to think that there are no vowels in words such as sky, my and fly, even though they've been told that every word needs a vowel in it. So, I explain that a vowel is a sound made with the voice, and that if we leave out the voice we can scarcely hear anything. I then talk about voice letters, and only move on to the term vowel once this idea has been practised and understood - in other words, when its compactness becomes a timesaver rather than an obstacle.

As we explain language to children, we need to use words that make it easier for them to understand. On this basis, any abstract word that can be replaced by common, short English words should be. Among the better current terms is full stop, though even this could be improved by dropping full.  If STOP is good enough for a road sign in every country in Europe, it's good enough for a grammar lesson. Stop means stop, not slow down or pause to have a look. Stop. And start again. With a capital letter. Anything else is a pause.