By Sara Finegan

I think that somewhere between one third and one half of the problems kids with learning disabilities have in class are related to the way the adults in the classroom talk.  I have absolutely no scientific evidence to back this up.  I just have a gut feeling.  It might be more than one half, actually.  It’s a lot.

If you’re a teacher, visualize yourself in the class with your students.  Visualize teaching a lesson, giving instructions for independent or group work, and yourself roaming the classroom, observing and intervening as necessary. 

Listen to yourself. 

Listen some more.

Now, step back out of your visualized classroom and think about what your lesson was about.  What was the purpose?  What did you want the kids to learn?  What did you want them to be able to do in independent or group work?  How did you anticipate that they would demonstrate what they learned? 

I can create a one-page, bulleted mock-up of a lesson that looks like this:

• What I want them to know/learn/be able to do: 
  • identify key vocabulary in a math word problem that indicates the type of operation to use to solve.
• Why this is important: 
  • Helps make word problems easier to decipher
• How I will teach it: 
  • On overhead, several word problems
  • Work to highlight the key vocabulary 
  • Model, model, model. 
  • Then, kids write words in graphic organizer 
  • Then, partner work
• How I will know they got it: 
  • I’ll see their graphic organizers completed 
  • I’ll see partners working to underline or highlight key vocabulary in practice questions and create the correct equations

I’m very clear on what I want them to learn how to do, why, and the steps involved in the lesson.  Putting the lesson into place, however, can result in instruction that is far less clear. 

The difference between an effective lesson using this lesson plan, and one that is not effective rests not on the plan itself, but on how it is delivered. 

Delivery of a lesson involves just about everything we are doing.  It involves our physical presence in the classroom:  where we stand or sit, and where, when and how we move.  It involves the visuals that we provide:  charts, overhead or document camera, Promethean board.  It involves the environmental surroundings in the classroom:  light, other sounds, movement, interference.   It involves our attitude:  are we energetic, frenetic, goofy, light-hearted, serious, stern, bored, frustrated? 

And, most of all to some students, it involves the words we use.  In particular, the number of words we use.

To those of us who are good with words, who understand them and use them effectively, the amount of teacher talk in a lesson doesn’t seem very important.  I can listen to a professor who intersperses, in his lectures about contemporary art, anecdotes about his experiences with famous and not-so-famous artists, lame jokes, and tangential diatribes about public funding for art.   I track him while he paces back and forth between the podium and the window.

While I’m listening, I am sorting through his words and identifying the most important concepts, writing down, in outline form, the notes that I am going to need to study for the test, and filing away some of the stories he’s telling to repeat to my husband someday.  If I get distracted by the mutterings of my seat partner or the note that she passes me asking if I want to meet for coffee on Saturday, I can easily come back to the lecture, filling what I missed using my background knowledge, or, in  a pinch, glance at my partner’s notes and copy.

There are other people in the class with me, and kids in the classes that I teach, who will not be able to do what I’m doing, and won’t get much, if anything, out of the lesson.   I’m referring to people with auditory processing deficits (or APDs).

For them, dealing with the words spoken by the professor, or by me, is a struggle not just for meaning, but for discernment, sequencing, associating, and storing.        

Some of the brightest people I have ever known have auditory processing deficits, and most were considered stupid when they were in elementary school, because they  could sit in class, pay attention to the teacher, and  not come away with any meaningful grasp of what was taught.

What are auditory processing deficits? 

Here’s what they’re not:  they aren’t hearing deficits.  People with auditory processing deficits hear just fine.  Their brains simply don’t process the sounds properly.  Think of it as having extreme near or farsightedness with sounds.  Or partial paralysis of your legs while you’re walking. 

There are a variety of types of auditory processing deficits.  I will cover those in another post.  But regardless of the particular form of APD, you need to know that no matter how clearly you speak, what you say in class to your students may be incomprehensible or, at the very least, extremely difficult to understand by many students.

Let’s take a couple of scenarios. 

• Here, the lesson is about a book the kids need to choose for their next book report:

“Ok, kids, I just finished grading the last book report and I’m really pleased with how everyone did.  I saw a lot of really excellent thinking and writing and by the way, some of your artwork on the book covers was outstanding!  I’m going to put some of the best reports and book covers on the bulletin board so that y’all can see them and celebrate the excellence.  Nice job.   Now, it’s time to get started on next month’s reading assignment.  The book report for next month is going to be a little different.  Instead of writing a plain report, you’re going to write it in the form of a newspaper, with feature articles, interviews, even an advice column, and of course, pictures. 

“I’m going to pass around some examples of exemplary work done by last year’s students.  You’ll see that they used really creative headlines and that the newspapers looked very professional.  It’s okay to have your parents help you if they have newsletter or other software that will help you layout the materials you type in, but they can’t do the writing for you.  Ok, so, your book choice this month is going to be the life story of an important person in American culture.  You can pick a biography or autobiography or memoir.  Who knows what a memoir is?  Sandy?  Yes, it’s the life reminiscences of a person.  How is that different from an autobiography?  John?  Right.  An autobiography is in sequential order, from birth onwards.  Memoirs can move around between ages.  Good job! 

“Ok, so you need to pick a book in the next few days.  The book should be a least 150 pages long, so nobody had better pick up one of the easy-peasy readers that we use with our reading buddies in the first grade!  You can use a book on tape, too, if you like. A  lot of people, like my mom, love to listen to books on tape instead of just reading the text, because it seems more alive to them, and that’s just fine.  Your choice.  We’ll go to the library tomorrow morning and you can look there as well as in our classroom book bins.  Remember, it has to be an American person, not someone from Europe.  So could you pick a biography of King Henry II of England?  No, you could not, because he wasn’t American.  Could you do a biography of Levi Strauss, who invented blue jeans?  Sure, because he lived in America.  Ok, he wasn’t born here, but he moved here and he became an American.  Back then, it was easier to become a citizen.  Are we clear? 

“You are going to have three weeks to read the book and I will be giving you a packet with the instructions for each type of article or whatever that you need to include in the book report newsletter.  You can write it by hand but it will look a lot nicer if it’s typed, and if you don’t have a computer at home you can go to the computer lab during lunch or literacy time to do the typing, or even stay after school if Mrs. Sainz will allow it.  You have to ask her.  I think she usually has one hour of c omputer time available on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but you’d better ask her.  Are we clear?  Good.  Let’s look at some of these examples.  Pass them around, pass them around.”

The students who were listening to this teacher had to do a lot of things at once.  They had to look at the examples she passed around… identify and then keep track of which parts of what she was saying were important to know for the book report… remember the different requirements for the book choice… listen to the questions she asked and the answers… file away the information about the computer center…identify the time period in which the book (a) needed to be chosen and (b) needed to be finished… and discard extraeneous information.

That’s a lot to do.  If this teacher was moving around the classroom while she was talking, the student also had to both look at the materials in front of him or her and track the teacher.  If the teacher turned away from the students, and kept talking, the student had to listen harder to make sure he or she got all of the words.   If the student stopped listening or tuned out even briefly while looking at the examples being passed around, he or she would have to fill in the blanks missed from the teacher’s speech.

• In the following example, the kids are learning about totem poles:

“Kids, Native Americans of the Pacific Northwest had some unique arts and crafts.  They used the natural resources of their region – who can tell me what one of them was?  Jane?  Right.  Wood.  Another one?  Danielle?  Right!  Whale bone.  Jack?  Ivory, yep, that too.  All right.  Let’s turn to page 178 and start learning about what they used those items for besides tools and other implements.    I said open your book, David.  Open.  The.  Book.  Turn to the page.  I said page 178.  Ok.  No, not 176.  178.  EIGHT.  Good. 

“All right, let’s look at the page.  What text features do you notice?  Alex?  And what does the title say?  Totem.  Prounced like Toe, Tem.  Totem.  Totem poles.  Right.  So what is this part of the chapter going to be about?  Totem poles.  What other text features do you notice?  Ricky?  Picture?  What is the academic word for the picture in the textbook?  Starts with ill……right, illustration.  What goes along with the illustration, who knows?  Kim?  Caption.  The caption describes the picture, tells you what it is.  In this case, what does the caption tell us?  Roxanne?  Read it, please.  Good.  Ok, so let’s start reading.  Kim, read the first paragraph, please….

(Later).…”Nice job.   So now we know about the totem poles.  Who can raise their hand and, in your own words, tell me what a totem pole is?  Ralphie?  Good!  Yes, it is a piece of sculpture made of wood that the Indians used to represent important animals spirits, or totems, in their clans or culture.  Write that down.  In your social studies notebook, write totem pole, and your definition.  Then, write, in bullet form, at least 3 animals that were commonly used in totem poles.   Next to each animal, write the attribute or characteristic of that animal in the Pacific Northwest Indian culture.  I’ll come around and look at what you’re doing.”

Here, the students had to retrieve academic vocabulary in the form of text features…remember the page number…take notes…listen while their peers read from the text out loud… recall important parts of the reading…identify the important parts… segment or organize the different types of information…remember the sequence of certain details… multi-task visual and auditory…fill in any blanks using background knowledge..recall important information.

There are kids who cannot do any of these with ease, and there are kids who can do only a few of them with ease, and there are kids who can do any one of them with ease but not combinations of them. 

These are the kids who are going to become completely entangled in your words and, in so doing, miss most of, part of, or some of the lesson. 

It’s not their fault.  It’s not your fault.   But one of you needs to change, and it’s not going to be the child. 

Auditory Processing Deficits are not something you can really cure, though some remediating work can be done.  They are things that we have to accommodate.  And accommodate we must.

What follows are some suggestions, if not concrete rules, for how to deal with auditory processing deficits in your classroom.

You, your body, and what you do with it.

• If you are a wanderer during instruction, i.e., when you’re giving the lesson, consider becoming more of a stationary speaker.  If you can’t do that, and many of us just need to move, then consider limiting the area in which you are moving.    We can teach kids to track us while we’re talking, but too much movement can be difficult.
• If you are standing or moving in front of a window or light, pay attention to whether the glare or shadow impedes a child from seeing your face.  If the light from my classroom windows shines at a certain angle behind me, my students to my left cannot really see my face.  They need to be able to in order to get the most from what I’m saying.
• Make sure that no matter what, you are facing the class while you are talking.  Again, the kids need to be able to see your face while you speak.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.  Rephrase.

Most of us are adept, in the classroom, at rephrasing the same information or directions several times, perhaps in a variety of ways.  This is an excellent skill and we shouldn’t stop using it.  But kids with certain types of auditory processing deficits actually need us to also repeat the exact information we said earlier. 

• Repeat the page number five times.
• Repeat the instructions two or three times. 
• Repeat the words the kids are learning at least three times.
• When you want kids copying things down, repeat it several times.

Chart the important stuff.

Kids who struggle to identify, sequence, and organize the important information in a lesson need to have visual re-enforcement.  I sometimes use both chart paper and a graphic organizer under the document camera. 

On the chart paper, I record the step-by-step instructions the kids need to follow.  On blank paper under the document camera I write the key concepts or important vocabulary that we are learning or talking about. 

• Chart the step-by-step, sequential information and leave it up during the entire lesson.
• Chart the important vocabulary or key concepts the kids need to know.
• Post clearly what you expect to see the kids doing or what the completed work should contain.

Provide note-taking assistance.

Effective note-taking involves reading or hearing information, narrowing it down to the most important facts or concepts, organizing it, and writing it in a way that can be easily read.  Kids with auditory processing deficits have a really hard time with this.

• Share your own notes our outline with the students with APD.
• Have peers share their notes or take notes for others.  (If you make this a matter-of-fact thing, nobody will think it’s odd or that the receiving student is “special”.)
• Create templates or fill-in sheets for kids to use to take notes.

Choose your own words carefully.

You may need to speak less in class, and choreograph the times you do speak.  If you’re like me, this can be a painful thing to contemplate, but contemplate it we must.  But consider the following:

• What if the teacher in the book report example had first given the kids an opportunity to look at the examples of the newspaper-style book report and then started talking about the assignment? 
• What if the teacher had charted the essential points she needed to convey about the new book report assignment, and, pointing to each one, ticked them off?
• What if she’d given everyone kudos for the previous book report, then allowed everyone to get up and go look at the best ones on the board, and only then started talking about the next one?
• What if she had charted the key info about the genres (biography, autobiography, memoir) when the kids answered her questions?
• What if she saved the information about typing and computer lab for another occasion, perhaps after she’d handed out the assignment packet?
• What if, in the Totem Pole example, she’d modeled the note-taking with the kids, showing how she went back into the text to find the information to copy into her notebook?

By spacing what you say and when you say it, combining your words with visual supports, and eliminating extraneous words or postponing them, your lessons and instructions will become more purposeful, succinct, and easy to understand by all of your students.

accomodations · auditory processing · auditory processing deficits · charts · classroom language · determining relative importance · differentiated instruction · hearing vs. listening · Inclusion · learning disabilities · lesson planning · listening · repitition · Sara Finegan · sequencing · sequential memory · special education

By Sara Finegan 

         Kids with expressive and receptive language deficits need to learn how to use and understand words.    The speech section of the brain is an amazing thing, and synapses can be created, formed, and reformed without medical intervention.  It is by using and reusing words, practicing them in different contexts over and over again, that our students can overcome, or at least significantly diminish their language disabilities. 

         One of our favorite ways in the classroom is to play Jeopardy.

          I use Jeopardy games primarily for Social Studies, but it can be adapted for any content area.  All you need is some sort of board (I took a large portable bulletin board or white board, covered it with contact paper, and it can stand on an easel quite easily), a document camera, those little envelopes they put in books at the library (or laminated construction paper envelopes you affix to the board), and index cards. 

         I keep five columns of four card slots each on the board at all times.  Then I can switch around the categories and the answer cards with ease.

NOTE:  Our school district is putting smart boards, or Promethean Activboard smart boards in all of our classrooms.  (Lucky us!) This is going to change the way I do Jeopardy because I can set up a Jeopardy game right on the computer and work with it on the smart board.  But I haven’t done that yet.

         If you’re not familiar with the television game show, Jeopardy, it’s essentially a trivia game where the answers are provided and the contestants have to formulate the correct questions.  In a demanding classroom, we play Jeopardy at least once a week, sometimes twice, depending on where we are in a social studies unit, and our games last anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour and a half, depending on how much fun the kids are having.  And they have a lot of fun.

          All of the “trivia” in our games consists of information from our current social studies unit. 

TIP:  As the year goes on, our Jeopardy game may expand to include prior units.  Thus, at the end of last year, one category was about ancient India, one about ancient China, one about ancient Mesopotamia, and on category was just about vocabulary related to history.

         Most of the time, the categories are something like this:  geography, lifestyle, religion, leaders.  But that is not cut in stone; we often have a vocabulary category, one on military matters, one about trade, one about inventions.  It just depends, as I said, on where we are in the unit.

          I will preface my description of the game by saying that you should not have high expectations at first.  At the beginning of the year, students will just not do very well and will need lots and lots of coaching and extra time.  Even later in the year, in the early part of a unit, kids just aren’t as familiar with the facts as they will be.  What’s amazing is that within a matter of a day or two, the kids are really learning, integrating the facts, internalizing the information, which is better than simple memorization.  And did I mention they are having FUN?

How do I know this?  Because years later, my students are able to discuss with ease historical facts and ideas and concepts that they learned long ago in our classroom.  My student teacher, on a tour of the school by one of my students this year, was treated to a long description of  prehistoric humans and the development of key concepts including domestication of animals and plants, inventions of new tools, and ideas about religion and nature.  Another of my students from years ago recently texted me that he got an A in world history in high school because he had so much background knowledge from our sixth and seventh grade history class.

         Jeopardy is played, at the beginning, with teams of two or three students.  You’ll find that as the year progresses, many students want to play alone, and others will still want a partner.  This is fine.  It’s great, even.  And you’ll be amazed at who emerges as the stars of the game, confident in their ability to formulate correct questions properly.

         I have prewritten the answers on index cards and put them in the slots or envelopes on the Jeopardy board before we begin. (when the kids see me changing the cards earlier in the day, they get excited knowing that we’re going to play – they really look forward to it.)

          The first team picks a category and an amount (I have 100, 200, 300 and 500 points as our amounts, but you can use any numbers you like).  I pull the appropriate card, and show it under the document camera.  (This is a big help to those kids who are visual learners and need to see the words of the “answer,” not just hear them.)  I remind the team to put their response in question form.  I don’t use a timer, because I want the kids to feel pretty relaxed as they figure out their response and put it in the proper words.

 An example of an “answer” might be:  Wheat and barley.  The proper question could be:  “What grains did the ancient Mesopotamian farmers raise?” or “What are two grains domesticated by Mesopotamian  farmers?” 

         Periodically, I do a mini lesson or reminder lesson about clues we can use to determine the question form.  Sometimes, the kids need reminders, for example, that an answer that contains a date needs a question that starts with “when”, or that a location implies a “where” question.  Often, however, I’ll catch kids coaching each other on this, even if they are on different teams.

         According to our former Speech Language Pathologist, the effort of thought it takes the kids to use the answer/fact to form a question is a challenge that results in significant improvements in their speech skills.  We’ve noticed a huge jump in confidence, mastery of facts and concepts with great ease, and a terrific increase in use of rich vocabulary and complex sentences.  

         We also have a classroom full of history buffs, who are proud to demonstrate their mastery and expertise  both orally and in writing. 

          In a demanding classroom, kids talk about information in a variety of ways instead of just repeating back what we tell them.

complex sentences · demanding classroom · expressive language · high expectations · Jeopardy · language deficits · learning disabilities · learning disabled · mastery · Promethean board · receptive language · rigor · rigorous instruction · Sara Finegan · special education · speech language pathologist · speech skills · standards · vocabulary

 By Sara Finegan

         A huge number of students with IEPs, particularly in elementary school, have expressive and/or receptive language deficits. 

         Difficulty finding the right words can mean that a child struggles to speak in complete sentences, but most commonly, I think, it manifests in a child’s inability to come up with specific verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs.   What does this look like in a classroom?  It looks like this: 

• Excessive use of what I call “cottonball” words – vague, generic words such as “things”, “stuff”, “that one”;
• Use of bland verbs such as “went”, “does”, “says”; and
• An absence of most adjectives and almost no use of adverbs at all.

         Difficulty in understanding words is a little different.  I will never forget working with one of my students on a math word problem, trying to figure out where he was getting stuck, and finally realizing that he really didn’t understand the difference between “each” and “every”.  (What do we call these, distributive adjectives?)  This presents a problem not just in math, but in science and other subject areas that require students to follow directions, visualize, or comprehend text.

         We teachers need to recognize both types of disabilities, and carefully craft ways to teach students to use language, and ways to cope with their deficits.  If we do not do both, we are going to shortchange some very bright kids who simply are lacking the right tools to make it known.

Sorting Cards for new vocabulary 

         One of the first interventions I ever used in my classroom is one that I continue to implement on an almost-daily basis.  It’s one of the simplest ideas, and the materials are cheap and always right at hand:  markers and index cards.  I call them Sorting Cards, because they are, well, cards that my students sort.  They also do other things with them, and I’ll explain that as we go along here.

         How they work:  A sorting card is an index card with a word written on it.  I make cards for every new vocabulary word in social studies and science.  I also make cards of verbs associated with the vocabulary words.  Thus, for example, if in our study of an ancient civilization the new words are:   loom, weaver, pottery, potter, fabric, flax, craftsman, agora, peddler, merchant – the verbs might be:  created, manufactured, designed, wove, sold, bought.    As we proceed through a unit, we add cards about farming and crops, government, religion, etc. 

         At first, I just have the kids read through the cards in pairs or small groups, familiarizing them with the vocabulary as new sight words.   I want them to recognize the words automatically, as that will eliminate any struggles to decode the words during later activities.

         Then I start having them create sentences using the words.  I might model:  If I take “agora”, “merchant”, “sold”, I can say “merchants sold goods at the agora.”  My aide or I will work with them at first, then gradually withdraw to  the kids make up their own sentences.  The particularly good sentences get written down on chart paper in the classroom.

         As the kids become more and more comfortable with the rich vocabulary, I start them on sorting activities.  By this time, we have a huge stack of cards (25-50) all relating to whatever unit we are studying.  I ask pairs of kids to work together to sort the cards into categories.  At the beginning of the year, I will suggest the categories for them (“how about farming, trade, religion, and government?”) but later on, they become quite good at determining the proper group names.  The students work together to sort the cards into the chosen categories.  When they’re done, my aide or I will take a look at what they’ve done. 

         We ask the kids to justify their organizational choices.  We do this for several reasons.  First, some words can go in several categories, and we are always interested in understanding why the kids chose one or the other.  Second, it’s a good way to make sure the kids really understand the words.  Third, we want the kids to be able to explain their thinking.  That way, if they put a word in an obviously wrong category, we can quickly grasp the nature of the error, and help repair the misunderstanding.

         What happens with the sorting card activities is that the kids engage in conversation with each other about the words and concepts that the words represent.  They begin to use the words themselves, both in our class discussions and in their writing.    I’ll hear them encouraging each other to use specific words:  Last week, as my kids were starting to write about Ancient Egyptian farming, Benny said to Alex, “they what canals?  They……you don’t want to say “made”, do you?  How about “dug”?

        My students don’t talk about making fabric, but weaving it, not writers but scribes, not strength but power, not winning a war, but conquering, or, in the alternative, victory.

...trot, run, jog...

         Sorting cards aren’t just for content-area vocabulary.  We develop series of cards to practice and learn different ways of saying things – not just similes, but similar acts.  For example, we might make an entire set of cards related to the way we get from one place to the other (amble, wander, climb, crawl, walk, trot, run, jog, fly, race, tiptoe, creep, dance, skip, gallop……)  I’ll mix those cards up with cards from other categories (ways of expressing words:  “yelp, whine, whimper, moan, gabble, whisper, yell, shout, screech…).

         I’ll put several categories of words together and have groups of kids sort them and reorganize them in like groups.  Just as happens with the content-area words, the kids begin to recognize the words, and use them, at first with prompts, and then independently. 

         As the kids use and re-use words, work with them and rework them, a great thing happens in their brains:  the words start popping forward as they think and speak.  More and more automatically, they choose specific  words instead of generic ones, richer vocabulary instead of bland words. 

         You might be wondering if the same lessons can be taught the standard way, with worksheets and mini-lessons.  Possibly, but not with as much engagement and sharing.  Maybe, but not with the relaxation and ease that comes when kids work together, without writing, to use words in ways that are new to them.  Perhaps, but I don’t think that the increase in vocabulary lasts, or that the synapses that are linked and refired when the kids talk together and experiment and think about how to use the words occurs.

         In a demanding classroom, kids use vocabulary, they don’t just memorize it.  When they use it, it becomes a part of them.

comprehension · demanding classroom · expressive language · high expectations · index cards · language deficits · learning disabled · receptive language · rigor · Sara Finegan · science · social studies · sorting cards · special education · standards · understanding · vocabulary

By Sara Finegan

          My colleague Colleen hates word walls and recently told our principal that she refuses to have one anymore.  What bothers her about word walls is the discrepency between the amount of time and energy she devotes to creating one and the amount of time and energy used by students when they are there. 

          As Colleen points out, there’s something incredibly irritating about a kid in June, who’s known about the existence of the word wall since October and still asks the teacher how to spell one of the words that is RIGHT THERE, not 10 feet away!

         I agree.  If the purpose of a word wall is to create a visible list of words to use for spelling, I want nothing to do with it.  In my classroom, we post several different kinds of words, for several different uses.

Sight Words 

         One of the first lists of words you will find in my classroom are the month’s expected sight words.  The words are some years written individually on index cards and some years typed onto colored paper, taped (blue painters tape, sticks well, won’t leave residue when removed) on our cupboard doors. 

          The kids keep each month’s list of sight words in a notebook as well, but we like a big list to be visible in the classroom for partners to go read during free or unstructured time. 

Tip:  I create a list of approximately 80 words per month for the kids to learn.  They are multi-syllabic words, and usually all fit into a phonological pattern – October’s words this year, for example, all use the “e” sounds, both long and short.  Every student tries to learn 20 of the words per week, so that by the end of the month, any kid in my classroom can walk up to the word wall and quickly read off every single one.

          Several years ago, I became frustrated by the fact that although I was teaching powerful vocabulary, my students weren’t using it, or if they were, they were  using it awkwardly.  After about a  month of gnashing my teeth and lecturing my kids about their lack of attention to my teaching, I stepped back and began to observe how they did use language in both written and oral expression.

         Turned out, although they knew the words if they saw them in text, they didn’t know how to use them on their own.   It’s  one thing to recognize a word; it’s quite another to retrieve it and  apply it in speech.

          In order for a student with special needs to be able to  use the vocabulary I teach, they need to be able to have a context.  And that is what led to the second kind of word wall you might find in my classroom.

Words in Context

         When I create a context-based word wall, I am setting up a system for kids to be able to see and practice the use of the words.  This kind of word wall will group words by category or topic, rather than in alphabetical order or by grammatical form.  Thus, you might find the following word groupings:

 Synonyms and Precise Choices 

We all know how difficult it can be to direct kids away from what I call “cotton ball words,” by which I mean the soft, fluffy, and really imprecise vocabulary they so willingly employ in speech and writing:  words like “stuff”, “things”, “had”, “was”, “can”, “went”. 

         When we teach students that the use of precise language to convey ideas demonstrates intelligence and proficiency, we cannot expect them to be immediately able to retrieve the more powerful nouns and verbs we’d like them to be using.   We have to show them their choices.

          Thus, another type of word wall is one which is developed over time in the classroom, and customized based on the needs you see in your students.  This wall of words will contain a topic heading and a list of words that can be  used.  For example, “Say”:

          Or, we might have an entire section about “getting from one place to another quickly,” that has words such as:  gallop,  slide, run, trot,  jog, race, fly, canter, zip, skate, roll.  Or perhaps we need to use words that are more interesting than “good”, so we have a list that contains these words:  excellent, fabulous, wonderful, terrific, lovely, magnificent, beautiful, fresh, tasty, sweet.

          Now, Colleen’s complaint can still be repeated with these kinds of word walls.   A list of words in and of itself is not going to lead to use or knowledge.  But if we use the word wall regularly, so will the kids. 

We Model How to Use the Wall

           Kids are not as likely to look to a list of words for spelling help when they can just as easily ask someone.  But they are likely to look to a list of words for vocabulary choices if we model how it’s done and get them in the habit. 

           When we are talking or writing, I will frequently pause as though I can’t think of a word.  I use my “teacher is puzzled” face, and tell the kids I’m having trouble thinking of the right way to say something.  They are always willing to help. 

            If I can describe to my students the kind of word I need, they will almost invariably go to the word wall in context and help me find one.  Thus, for example: 

• If I say “well, I want a word that shows how the Egyptian farmers made canals,” more than one student will glance at the wall and yell out “dug!” or “excavated!”
• If I indicate that I’m looking for a precise way to describe the kind of person Draco Malfoy is, I’ll get plenty of offers of “evil”, “nasty”, “cruel”, and “viscious”.
• And if I say I don’t want to repeat the word “important” in a paragraph, someone will help me find “essential” or “crucial”.

         Once we get kids in the habit of looking to word walls for choices, they are far more likely to use them in their partner and independent work.

          Of course, you just KNOW they will still ask you how to spell them!

demanding classroom · high expectations · learning disabled · modeling · rigor · rigorous instruction · Sara Finegan · sight words · special education · standards · synonyms · vocabulary · word wall

 By Sara Finegan

          I cannot stress enough the importance of teaching kids how to talk and listen about meaningful things.  The practice of explicitly teaching vocabulary, modeling proper use of words and word choices, and helping kids learn how to phrase their thoughts must be embedded in our instruction and included in all of our planning.  This applies to every single subject area.

         When I think about what I want the kids in my class to be able to DO in their oral and written communication, I come up with the following skills: 

• To summarize, in their own words, what they are doing, reading, and learning, or what someone else told them.

• To describe with powerful and explicit vocabulary events, ideas, and feelings.

• To use complex sentences and grammatical concepts to convey ideas.

•  To describe their thinking process as they approach a problem or a task.

•  To understand and be able to present or identify an idea with supporting details.

•  To organize and share their thinking in an organized fashion.

•  To be able to engage in interactive discussions about meaningful topics using responsive listening and accountable talk.

         I’m sure there’s more, but that’s what I come up with right now.  Daunting, no?  Especially if you take a look at what the kids can do, language-wise, when they walk into your classroom for the first time.   

         If your students are anything like mine, the first months of talk sound something like this:

• “The guy went, well, let’s go get some stuff to eat, so they did.”

• <shrug>  (one of my favorite answers to any question)

• “She wanted to go to that one place, so they did.”

• “The Ancient Mesopotamia people had canals for to water the ground where they grew stuff.”  (this from a child who was asked to use the word “canals” in relation to Mesopotamian farming) 

          And how many of us have prepared social studies or science worksheets and received them back with one-word answers?

          I send them back.

          In separate posts, I’ll describe what I work on with my students to raise the level, depth, and bredth of their use of language. 

          In a demanding classroom.

demanding classroom · high expectations · learning disabled · modeling · rigor · rigorous instruction · Sara Finegan · special education · standards · vocabulary

By Sara Finegan

           When I first started teaching, I thought that the school’s Speech /Language Pathologist was pulling kids out of the classroom once or twice a week to work on things like stuttering, lisps, and other impediments.  It was several years before I caught on to the fact that more and more kids these days, both in and out of special education, have expressive and receptive language deficits, which is quite different from my initial perceptions.

            That was back when I had no idea what the different types of learning disabilities were.  (Isn’t it odd that in the entire body of coursework we follow to get certificated in special education, most of us are never explicitly taught what each of the disabilities are?  When was the last time you discussed the nature of “Specific Learning Disability” or “Non-verbal Learning Disorder,” or “auditory memory weaknesses”?  It’s the weirdest thing, and one that if we’re smart, we’ll address on our own by doing simple research and talking to our Speech/Language and Psychology experts.) 

Language deficits defined 

            Expressive language deficits mean that a child experiences difficulty retrieving and using the words and grammar necessary to convey ideas.  Receptive language deficits means that a child struggles to understand language, the meaning of words, and the intent of the speaker.

            I have a theory about these deficits; that they involve both biological and sociological factors.   Hear me out.

             Think about the generation we’re working with.  Both parents generally work at least one job, sometimes two.  In-depth conversations, where adults model interactive communication and their thinking processes as they address world and family issues, conflict, and decision-making, tend to be less frequent and often non-existent when the family schedule is filled with activities, work, and time constraints.  What passes for conversation in many of our homes is really just direction-giving and reporting-out:

• “Put the eggs in the fridge and watch your brother.”
• “Get dressed.  You don’t want to be late for school.  I don’t have time to drive you.”
•  “You pick up Timmy today, right?  I have to work late.”

            For kids who already have difficulty with language, this is not a scenario designed to support improvement.  Kids don’t have much opportunity to talk and be engaged in discussions.  Parents don’t have time to think aloud or model how they think about what they do, read, or see on TV.    As a result, an area of need quickly becomes and remains a weakness which impairs not just communication, but learning.

             These deficits are rather unobtrusive and you won’t notice them right away, often not until it’s time for a child to talk or write about what s/he is learning.  Even then, if you accept language like “he got some stuff at the store” instead of “while he was at the store, he bought three oranges and a can of tomato sauce”, you’re not going to be pay much attention to it.

            And there’s the key:  Too many of us accept vague language and do not demand specificity and the use of powerful vocabulary, because we either don’t realize what’s going on, or don’t have time to figure out how to change things, or figure that expressive and/or receptive language deficits are something the Speech Pathologist is going to handle. 

Demand specific and powerful vocabulary 

            In a demanding classroom, specific vocabulary is taught and used, word choice is emphasized, and instruction provides daily opportunities to talk meaningfully and practice expressing and understanding one another in every subject area. 

            I’ll be writing about some things that have worked in my classroom.  I want to hear what you do as well.  It’s good to have a library of terrific ideas to pull out and select from each year.

demanding classroom · expressive language · high expectations · language deficits · learning disabilities · learning disabled · receptive language · rigor · rigorous instruction · Sara Finegan · special education · speech pathology · standards · vocabulary