this is war
Reader's Response: "The Reading Wars."
In his November 1997 article, Lemann provides an overview of the debate between champions of whole-language versus phonics instruction. I would have thought that whole-language would appeal to more traditional groups, and was surprised to learn that the Republican Right—in particular, the Christian Coalition—is most strongly identified with phonics.
I feel it’s a bit unfair of me, but this is a subject on which I was born with an opinion. The problem, as Lemann points out, is not one of instructional strategy and cannot be proven one way or another through standardized tests. Even if phonics could be statistically linked with a rise in test scores, what would that prove? For a whole-language purist, standardized tests prove nothing at best, and more often are linked, along with phonics, with what is wrong in our country. Their existence encourages teachers to ‘teach to the test.’ Communities rally around test scores as a definitive watermark of the levels of progress (or lack thereof) their students are making. Results are waited for with bated breath, then met with much celebration or mourning, evoking a community’s response to the birth or death of a child. To most educational communities, test scores are an accurate prediction a child’s level of success. This is unspoken, of course, but it does explain why the stakes are so ridiculously high. Plus, with such a large population, what other means do we have of measuring their success, judging their reading level, or estimating their intelligence? Personally, I see test scores as fundamentally flawed: primarily, they test how well students are able to take a test. The knowledge within is secondary. It’s kind of like Scrabble. I hate to put it this way, because I like the game, but I’ll never be sensationally good at it. That’s because Scrabble isn’t about being able to come up with the best words. It’s about knowing what letter combinations played on which spaces will get the most points.
I bet you didn’t believe it, but this is all coming around to phonics. The thing is, phonics is aesthetically offensive to anyone with a real love for language. Notice I don’t say proficiency or aptitude, so I’m really not making much of a case. Like Scrabble, phonics focuses on letters, and letter combinations, which are later combined to make words, then phrases, then meaning. Gone is the disconcertingly mysterious “just learning to read,” wherein some sort of magical conversion takes place. With phonics, reading becomes an equation, something Scientific, or Mathematical, one of those cold inflexible male things that I’ve always been known to detest. I always figured Language as the last bastion of the female, the organic, the mysterious—one of the true Arts. I also don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.
When it comes to the argument about phonics over whole-language, Frank Smith hits the nail on the head: “The difference between the two sides was not one that evidenced or argument could ever resolve. The difference was one of world view.” So bring on your test scores. Who needs 'em? Phonics, eh? You might as well ask me to start kissing the hooves of a golden calf.
I learned to read when I was three. No lie. Most of my earliest memories are of books. Why? Because I loved stories, I loved to imagine things. Each book creates a world for a child, a world that is often a most welcome escape from the pressures of the real world. I still love reading, and have an affinity for those ‘grown-up’ picture books known as graphic novels. The problem for me—and perhaps I can speak for some other whole-language champions as well—is not whether phonics effectively teaches children how to read—I hate to admit it, but it probably does. My problem with phonics is that it doesn’t teach kids to love reading—is that even important anymore?
Like I said, I can’t speak with any authority on the matter—I have no experience on learning to read but my own. Recently, I learned French. Moving to Cameroon, I had absolutely no French at all. I did learn to speak it though, and not through the accelerated courses shoved down my throat during the Peace Corps’ summer training system. No, I recoil when taught languages like that, vocabulary, grammar, piece by piece. I learned nothing through my well-meaning professors. What got me to learn French was my desire to communicate with the people. It was being surrounded by a host family that couldn’t speak any English. It was immersion, and the rewarding joy that comes when, after struggling and floundering with listening and speaking and being understood and actually having a conversation, things just kind of…snap into place. Suddenly, it all makes sense.
This is the magical, mysterious thing that we whole-word types hold sacred. Reading isn’t a formula, language isn’t meant to be taken apart and put together again. If it is, how can it be loved?
Of course, my reaction is entirely gut-based. If phonics gets results, then, hey, its probably a good idea, even if it (and standardized testing) means billions of dollars of taxpayer money to private corporations. And hey, who cares if tomorrow’s grown-ups aren’t indoctrinated with an archaic, superfluous love of reading? At least they’ll be able to beat me at Scrabble.
In his November 1997 article, Lemann provides an overview of the debate between champions of whole-language versus phonics instruction. I would have thought that whole-language would appeal to more traditional groups, and was surprised to learn that the Republican Right—in particular, the Christian Coalition—is most strongly identified with phonics.
I feel it’s a bit unfair of me, but this is a subject on which I was born with an opinion. The problem, as Lemann points out, is not one of instructional strategy and cannot be proven one way or another through standardized tests. Even if phonics could be statistically linked with a rise in test scores, what would that prove? For a whole-language purist, standardized tests prove nothing at best, and more often are linked, along with phonics, with what is wrong in our country. Their existence encourages teachers to ‘teach to the test.’ Communities rally around test scores as a definitive watermark of the levels of progress (or lack thereof) their students are making. Results are waited for with bated breath, then met with much celebration or mourning, evoking a community’s response to the birth or death of a child. To most educational communities, test scores are an accurate prediction a child’s level of success. This is unspoken, of course, but it does explain why the stakes are so ridiculously high. Plus, with such a large population, what other means do we have of measuring their success, judging their reading level, or estimating their intelligence? Personally, I see test scores as fundamentally flawed: primarily, they test how well students are able to take a test. The knowledge within is secondary. It’s kind of like Scrabble. I hate to put it this way, because I like the game, but I’ll never be sensationally good at it. That’s because Scrabble isn’t about being able to come up with the best words. It’s about knowing what letter combinations played on which spaces will get the most points.
I bet you didn’t believe it, but this is all coming around to phonics. The thing is, phonics is aesthetically offensive to anyone with a real love for language. Notice I don’t say proficiency or aptitude, so I’m really not making much of a case. Like Scrabble, phonics focuses on letters, and letter combinations, which are later combined to make words, then phrases, then meaning. Gone is the disconcertingly mysterious “just learning to read,” wherein some sort of magical conversion takes place. With phonics, reading becomes an equation, something Scientific, or Mathematical, one of those cold inflexible male things that I’ve always been known to detest. I always figured Language as the last bastion of the female, the organic, the mysterious—one of the true Arts. I also don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.
When it comes to the argument about phonics over whole-language, Frank Smith hits the nail on the head: “The difference between the two sides was not one that evidenced or argument could ever resolve. The difference was one of world view.” So bring on your test scores. Who needs 'em? Phonics, eh? You might as well ask me to start kissing the hooves of a golden calf.
I learned to read when I was three. No lie. Most of my earliest memories are of books. Why? Because I loved stories, I loved to imagine things. Each book creates a world for a child, a world that is often a most welcome escape from the pressures of the real world. I still love reading, and have an affinity for those ‘grown-up’ picture books known as graphic novels. The problem for me—and perhaps I can speak for some other whole-language champions as well—is not whether phonics effectively teaches children how to read—I hate to admit it, but it probably does. My problem with phonics is that it doesn’t teach kids to love reading—is that even important anymore?
Like I said, I can’t speak with any authority on the matter—I have no experience on learning to read but my own. Recently, I learned French. Moving to Cameroon, I had absolutely no French at all. I did learn to speak it though, and not through the accelerated courses shoved down my throat during the Peace Corps’ summer training system. No, I recoil when taught languages like that, vocabulary, grammar, piece by piece. I learned nothing through my well-meaning professors. What got me to learn French was my desire to communicate with the people. It was being surrounded by a host family that couldn’t speak any English. It was immersion, and the rewarding joy that comes when, after struggling and floundering with listening and speaking and being understood and actually having a conversation, things just kind of…snap into place. Suddenly, it all makes sense.
This is the magical, mysterious thing that we whole-word types hold sacred. Reading isn’t a formula, language isn’t meant to be taken apart and put together again. If it is, how can it be loved?
Of course, my reaction is entirely gut-based. If phonics gets results, then, hey, its probably a good idea, even if it (and standardized testing) means billions of dollars of taxpayer money to private corporations. And hey, who cares if tomorrow’s grown-ups aren’t indoctrinated with an archaic, superfluous love of reading? At least they’ll be able to beat me at Scrabble.
posted by Elizabeth at 9:34 PM
2 Comments:
my earliest memories are of snow.
Very interesting blog. You're right. The goal is to inspire a love of reading. Joy comes through experiences with whole pieces of literature and the accomplishment of decoding the message. For some children, phonics is a necessary tool. But, phonics can be taught in the context of a real piece of writing. When taught in isolation, we lose the joy, the meaning, the message. Whole language is a philosophy, not an approach. This message comes through in your blog.
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