Showing posts with label Vocabulary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vocabulary. Show all posts

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Disciplinary Vocabulary

            When I was 8, there were two boys, Chris and Paul. They were both tow-heads, gentle and quiet, with loping walks; and both could draw beautifully… if a teacher struggled to draw a straight line or a round circle on the chalkboard, she’d ask Chris or Paul, who could do it, seemingly without effort.
            Oh, and by the way, they were identical twins.
            I couldn’t tell Chris and Paul apart. Few students or teachers could.
            At the time, I was jealous—not of their sweetness or facility—but of the idea of being a twin. It looked cool.
            Now that I’m older that kind of constant confusion doesn’t look so fun.
            Think of disciplinary literacy and content area literacy. They are not the same, but many teachers can’t tell them apart. I don’t think anyone will make a Parent Trap movie about them, but you get the idea.
            Basically, disciplinary literacy refers to specialized texts and ways of using literacy in the disciplines. Historians, mathematicians, literary critics, and scientists read and write differently because they create different kinds of knowledge and rely on different kinds of evidence.
            Content literacy, on the other hand, is about teaching reading using subject matter texts, and the emphasis is on the use of general reading or study skills in different classes or in different kinds of books.
            But what about vocabulary?
            Learning vocabulary will be pretty much the same, no matter what field of study we are talking about. Memorizing a word is no different in a third-grade social studies class or in medical school.
            Helping kids to learn words means focusing on deep or extensive definitions, intensive and varied repetition of the words, examining relationships among words, making personal connections to words, and lots of review.
            But remember, a disciplinary literacy approach tries to make students aware of the special properties and purposes of the disciplines. What it takes to learn new words may stay the same, but the nature of vocabulary does differ across fields. For example, a large portion of science words are built from Latin and Greek combining forms.
            By contrast, vocabulary in history tends to be ideological in nature. Words don’t just have meanings, they have points of view (something mathematicians and scientists try to avoid when coining terms). Do your students study the U.S. Civil War, the War Between the States, or the War of Northern Aggression?  
            A very different take, but an interesting one, on disciplinary vocabulary is promoted by the book, Word ID: Assessment across the Content Areas by Linda Gutlohn & Frances Bessellieu (2014). It is based upon an analysis of 4,500 content area words. They have identified the most common morphemes in the different subject areas (Grades 6-12); providing lists of prefixes, suffixes, and combining forms by subject area. These specialized lists are interesting, with both overlap and separateness.
            Teaching students the nature of vocabulary differences across the disciplines makes sense, but it also makes sense to focus vocabulary work on the special properties of the words that come up often in the different subject areas. Sort of like recognizing all the “twinness” between Chris and Paul—but not neglecting what made each of them so uniquely special.

             

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Loose Ends in the Waning Days of Summer

It's the time of year, when parents and kids are stocking up on school supplies and teachers are decorating bulletin boards and scrambling through professional development days while poring over their new class lists. For me, it is a good time to say a last word on some disparate issues.

Teach Your Baby to Read
Awhile back, an entry here focused on the “Teach Your Baby to Read” program (Teach Your Baby to Read Blog Entry). I criticized those programs for fostering a mis-definition of reading as word memorization and said it was not likely to be effective. I pointed out the need for research. That turned out to be a controversial blog and it generated lots of response. Most critics were parents, two of whom even offered to bring their toddlers to me to see that they were reading.

It is hard to invest in something that doesn’t work; it creates “cognitive dissonance.” That’s just a fancy way of saying that people look hard for reasons to like those things that they have already bought into. Buy a new car and you start reading more car ads than before because you look for evidence that confirms your good judgment.

This week, Susan Neuman and her colleagues published, in the Journal of Educational Psychology, a randomized control trial of studies on baby literacy programs. Their conclusion: “Our results indicated that babies did not learn to read.” The programs had no impact on measures of early literacy and language. Nevertheless, the parents who delivered the programs were sure they were working. Cognitive dissonance strikes again.

Teaching Vocabulary to English Learners
My recent blogs on academic vocabulary elicited this request: “I love that you are addressing this topic! Any advice for those of us working with large populations of ELL students?”

It's a good question. Research suggests vocabulary learning supports reading comprehension, and this impact is greater with ELLs than native speakers. ELL students are less likely to know English words, so teaching words would have a particularly powerful impact for them. 

One thing that is different for ELL kids is that it is not just academic vocabulary that they lack. If we only teach book language or the words that aren’t usually heard in oral discourse, then ELL kids may be left out. It is essential that ELLs be assessed to determine their language status. If their language development is similar to that of their English classmates, then emphasizing academic vocabulary with them makes great sense.

More likely, however, their language will lag behind. In such cases, providing them with additional instruction in vocabulary would make sense. But this instruction should focus on oral language—not written. Claude Goldenberg has promoted the idea of having a daily period devoted to English language instruction for ELLs and that makes great sense to me. Give these kids a chance to close the gap with their English-speaking peers.

I would also argue that it is important to do more than teach word meanings. That has value, of course, but so do listening comprehension and grammar lessons. Language includes more than words.

My Daughters 
There have been many responses to my blogs about teaching my daughters to read. The most chastening was from my eldest who claims I attributed the anecdotes to the wrong daughters. That may be the case, as since they were little, I often would call them by the wrong names. I always told them they were lucky that we didn’t have a dog (who knows they might have come to think Fido was their name).

I also heard from someone who wanted to know the impact of teaching the girls on their later school performance. E., the oldest, who entered school reading at a third-grade level, was chagrined to find that the kindergarten teacher would spend the year teaching letter names and sounds (she enjoyed the inflatable letter people). They let her attend first-grade part-time that year which didn’t help much since those kids could read either. She loved the freedom of being able to leave kindergarten for first-grade and, to her thinking, it was a good year. She later skipped a grade to try to get a closer match (I wish we hadn’t done that, but it was the only choice given the teaching available to her at the time—not the case in all schools).


M., the youngest who was slow at language learning, entered kindergarten with more modest accomplishments (she was reading at about a grade 1 level). Her advantages were less obvious, but I suspect more valuable. There was a very real chance that M. would have struggled with reading when she entered school. Instead, her biggest weakness was a modest strength. I have long believed that if I hadn’t taught E. to read, she would have learned at school quickly and easily anyway. M., on the other hand, may have languished with the wrong teacher or program, and she may have played catch up in language from then on. Her reading levels might have been less remarkable initially, but her reading success was guaranteed.

Both girls did well in school, and one has a degree in law and the other in engineering. 

Monday, August 4, 2014

Academic Vocabulary -- Part II

My last entry focused on disagreements over the nature of academic literacy.

One notion of academic language was that it was any text language (formal book language versus informal oral language). A second conception also separates oral language and text language, but it also sets aside the specialized terminology that belongs to particular disciplines. In that view, words like rhombus and mytosis would be too specialized to deserve much instructional attention. A third conception is that academic vocabulary are the words used to teach and assess, and a fourth is the language that labels the essential content of the various disciplines.

Obviously these varied conceptions of academic vocabulary are not total distinct—there are overlaps and some are subsets of the others. And, while the differences among them have to do with which words should be emphasized rather than about how to teach them, that doesn’t mean there aren’t implications for teaching.

It also is evident that some of these have greater research support than others. Research shows that students who know the meaning of more words comprehend better, so having students read a lot and learn the meanings of a lot of words makes sense. Studies also show that teaching vocabulary explicitly can have a positive outcome on reading comprehension, particularly if the words taught show up in the texts that students read.

However, there is no evidence that teaching the words used for teaching and assessing make any difference in learning. It seems likely that students will pick many/most of these up just by being students, so it doesn’t make sense to spend that kind of time on them. These often are not the words that make someone college and career ready.

The idea of teaching the cultural literacy terms—that is the names, places, dates, and so on, that represent the knowledge of educated people—might make sense. Though it might make sense to identify frequently used vocabulary terms and to then teach these, that approach makes little sense for this cultural literacy terminology. Develop knowledge of those literary, historical, and scientific concepts through a strong content focus, not through studying the items themselves (though I had a friend who used to study the Trivial Pursuit cards like this--it didn't make her a better reader, but she was tough to beat in Trivial Pursuit).

To teach the first of these conceptions--book language--it makes sense to encourage students to read a lot at and outside of school, and to teach the fourth one (content knowledge and cultural literacy) the emphasis should be more on the content—with the words becoming familiar from the wider study. That doesn't mean that students wouldn't study the vocabulary of such content, only that they would do so while learning that content. And, the third conception, the language of lessons and tests, should not be the focus of instruction at all.

The only one of these that makes sense as a focus of formal and even decontextualized language instruction are those non-content words that are not common to oral language. Words like: hierarchy, emotion, criteria, process, generation, symbol, visible, conduct, etc.

What isn’t clear is who should be teaching these. While there is no doubt that science teachers should teach the content words of the concepts that they teach (e.g., photosynthesis, atom, molecule), should that they also be responsible for teaching the meanings of non-science words like contrast, distinct, arranged, etc. that often are used to explain science content?

The answer to this is not clear. This year, one of my doctoral students, Elizabeth Birmingham, carried out a study on this. She didn’t find that studying those kinds of words gave students a measurable benefit—though the problem is a complex one and we all learned a lot from her study design. She had students in one group studying the content words and in another they focused on the enabling words. The content word group did best, but mainly because they learned the content words better (and that was one of the outcomes of concern). We have a long way to go to understand how this works best, however. 


In the meantime, engaging students in lots of reading and providing them with many opportunities for content learning—supplemented by a narrower focus on explicit vocabulary teaching. That teaching definitely should not be as narrow as those conceptions of academic literacy that focus on “instructional” language, but exactly how it is best arranged is not yet clear. 

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Are You Lactating? And other notes on Academic Language

Late last year, it was big news when a translator for the deaf and hard of hearing at Nelson Mandela’s funeral didn’t know sign language. The fella was very entertaining (his “signs” displayed exuberance, but not meaning).

It reminded me of when the Dairy Council tried to translate their, “Got Milk” advertising campaign into Spanish—their translator lacked sufficient knowledge of the languages and the slogan came out, “Are you lactating?” Probably not the best way to sell milk!

Language is essential to learning and communication, so it should not be a surprise that “academic language” or “academic vocabulary” is a big deal. References to these concepts are growing in the professional literature, there are increasing numbers of commercial programs aimed at nurturing these skills, and state educational standards (including CCSS) have embraced the idea.

That all makes sense, and yet there is some irony in it, too.

The irony? There seems to be little agreement as to the meaning of "academic vocabulary."

I’m aware of at least four overlapping definitions of the concept—and they differ in ways that matter in instruction.

One definition of academic language is that it is text language. The language of text is the language of the Academy; as such there isn’t a specific word list to be mastered, but students have to become adept at reading the kinds of texts that educated people read. Advocates of this notion separate oral from written language, and they tend to do this quantitatively.

Thus, knowing the 10,000 most frequent words in the language (words common in oral language) doesn’t count for much, but knowing the next 20,000-40,000 most frequent words is what distinguishes the educated from the uneducated.

A second concept is the one espoused, perhaps most prominently, by Beck and McKeown. Their scheme partitions vocabulary seating into three sections. In the orchestra section (tier 1) are the oral language words—nothing especially academic there. In the balcony (tier 3), are the words that are specialized to the various disciplines (e.g., simile, gerund, minuend, rational number, isotope), They don’t focus on these seats either.

The academic words are all sitting in the mezzanine—Tier 2. A good example of academic words would be Coxhead’s Academic Vocabulary list. These words are widely used in academia, and because they are words that are used in multiple disciplines, they should be taught.

Although this idea of academic vocabulary is not as amorphous or wide-ranging as the first, it is not particularly narrow either. Beck and McKeown have emphasized words like “reluctant” and Coxhead includes words like, “apparent,” “appreciate,” and “culture.” These are words not owned by any particular discipline, but they are not necessarily general to all disciplines either.

A third notion is even narrower. This is one of the more common schemes for describing academic vocabulary. A good example would be the Tennessee vocabulary list that Bob Marzano put together. Essentially, they went through textbooks and tests and drew out the vocabulary that is used to teach or evaluate. Thus, academic vocabulary includes terms like “alphabet,” “predictable book”, and “supporting ideas.” These aren’t the words of “well educated people,” they are a crib sheet for completing workbook pages and standardized tests.

A fourth conception of academic vocabulary is the one promoted by E.D. Hirsch (Cultural Literacy) and Chamot & O’Malley (CALLA model for teaching second language learners). These approaches aren’t as narrow—with regards to learning content. While the other schemes might advantage words like “principle” and “protean,” these approaches recognize the importance of content knowledge, with vocabulary as an index of that. Thus, terms like Adriatic Sea, relativity, or George Washington, are exemplars of what needs to be mastered. In other words, academic language needs to include the concepts, facts, and skills underlying science, mathematics, literature, and social studies.

Which of these concepts make the greatest sense and what difference might it make instructionally? See you next time for some answers.


Milk anyone?

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Recently, the American Educator republished a chapter of Marilyn Adams. I have featured Marilyn’s input here before (thank you, thank you), but this recent pub is a must read as far as I’m concerned (and so I have included a link to it at the end of this blog).

The good Dr. Adams documents how American textbooks have grown simpler over time. I’ve long believed that the measurement of text difficulty was a great scientific advance, but as useful as that tool can be, it has been a weapon of mass destruction when it comes to supporting students’ reading achievement. You see, teachers and publishers have been hyper-aware there always seems to be someone who will have difficulty with some text or other, and so they have striven to provide easier texts (texts that will leave no one behind). Their solution means that kids get a steady stream of texts with easier words and less complex sentences and text structure.

I have no doubt that the textbooks for older kids have gotten easier and easier, but there is more to it than that. While the books themselves have been providing less mental exercise, I believe (and this is not well documented) that many middle school and secondary teachers are less likely to have students reading those texts than was true a generation ago (or if they are read, it is done using round robin or some variant which usually means that most of the kids do little reading or thinking).

Awhile back, Achieve asked me to help draft a statement that they were using with various state standards. The statement often served as a preamble to grade level standards, and it indicated that text difficulty was important. (For example, students might be able to draw great inferences with a third grade text, but not with a fifth grade one. Just working on inferencing makes no sense unless the text is hard enough).

As terrific as I thought that preamble was, it was generally ignored by teachers and testers. The reason? It wasn’t one of the standards. (People love those numbered lists).
As a result of such experiences, the common core standards includes both a huge appendix about text difficulty, and a numbered item about text difficulty in every set of reading standards. People might ignore the appendix, but they can’t miss that text difficulty item. That means that textbooks are likely to start getting harder again.

However, just throwing kids into harder text won’t solve the problem, especially if teachers simply skip those books when they are difficult.

When I was in Ireland last fall, I was working with a group of teachers and elementary students. When I finished up the lesson and the children were trooped out, one of the teachers pointed out that I handled the hard text issue differently than they did. “When we find that the children struggle with a text, we put them in something easier [a la guided reading]. But you taught the students how to handle the harder material.”

This idea of using challenging (not impossible texts) is important. Students do need texts that they can read, but they also need to stretch. Towards that end, I suggest the following:

1. Students should get daily experience in school in reading something hard and something relatively easy. The hard material really should be a challenge—even a year or two beyond their reading level! The easy stuff needs to be something that is intellectually challenging, but with easy enough language that they are not struggling with the words much (in fact, it can even be something that they are rereading).

2. The difficult reading materials should be heavily scaffolded. That means the teacher must provide lots of instructional support to help the kids succeed with the material that is supposedly “too hard” for them.

3. In full agreement, with Marilyn A., one of those scaffolds should be direct instruction in vocabulary. That can mean substantial lessons in particular word meanings and it might mean that the teacher just tells the students meanings as needed as well.

4. Another scaffold should be oral reading fluency work. It is easier to untangle complex sentences when you are working on the prosody of such sentences. That means students should be spending some time reading these texts aloud with feedback (supervised paired reading). This work could also include listening to the teacher (or an audio recording) and then trying it themselves.

5. A third scaffold should be some kind of productive work with the text. This might include participating in a discussion or writing about the text or trying to develop a chart or some other visual representation of the ideas. The key point is to get the meaning.

6. Yet another way to explore a hard text is to build up to it, by reading more than one text on the same subject (maybe an easier, less detailed or thorough version can help kids to bootstrap to the more difficult one). In any event, these kinds of easier “mentor texts” should not replace the reading of the challenging text.

7. And, finally, as this hard text becomes easier for the students –and with such scaffolding, such texts do become easier -- this text can be used as an easier text that might be worth rereading again later.

http://www.aft.org/pdfs/americaneducator/winter1011/Adams.pdf