I am a nerd, and I skim through a fair number of research papers, both to keep current for my professional role, and because I just like learning about literacy and language.
While I use Zotero to organize some of what I come across, I tend to read through papers on my phone on buses/trains to and from work, or to print out something to read later, so I am not systematic or well-organized about what I pick up from what I read, unfortunately. I do post quotes from articles as I read them on social media, so I can search through my own past feed to find links to research I read. So while I might build my own schema about things as I read more and more stuff, I don’t retain the specific sources.
One of the things I have had in my head regarding literacy interventions is that multicomponent approaches in English tend to be more effective than single component approaches for students who are learning English at school (ELL), and for many other populations as well.
Gaining a clear picture of a student’s language and literacy abilities in both English and their home language is critically important in two scenarios:
the student has just entered your school and speaks another language at home (whether because he is entering the school system in kindergarten or is newly arrived from another country and entering in a later grade)
the student is in a bilingual program
Gaining information in both languages for bilingual students in these situations can portray a completely different spectrum of profiles than when assessing in English only.
My son just entered kindergarten. We received a folder from his teacher with two sets of materials: an overview of the Fundations phonics program (good!), and a list of sight words that he would be expected to memorize each week (um).
This is how the sight word overview began:
Dear Families,
Did you know about 75% of words we read are sight words?
Sight word are words that do not follow the rules of spelling and therefore must be recognized by sight. The more sight words a student can recognize, the more fluent of a reader they will become.
This is Part IV in a series digging into two articles from Keith Stanovich that provides useful ways for educators to understand the science in the science of reading.
In Part I, we examined a 2003 article that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived.
*The “science of reading” has become a loaded term — partly due to how “science” itself may be conceived. Since starting this series (yes, I know, I take a really long time to write posts), there’s been a fascinating trend of articles reacting to the term in various ways. These takes seem only slated to increase, given the wide attention this recent tidy overview on the push for SOR in Time has received, just as one example.*
In Part I, we examined a 2003 article by Keith Stanovich that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived. In that article, we learned that in education there may be a tendency to lean towards “coherence” in narratives or the “uniqueness” presented by silver bullet fads. These tendencies can and do subvert science-based reading practice.
In Part II, we began our analysis of yet another stellar 2003 piece by Paula and Keith Stanovich, which lays out the importance in drawing on the cumulative base of scientific findings on reading, rather than on gurus, personal agendas, and politics, as the field of education so often tends to. We learned that while peer reviewed research may not be a guarantee of quality, it is at the very least a minimum criterion that establishes such research as a part of the accumulating “public” realm of scientific knowledge.
The “science of reading” has become a loaded term — partly due to how “science” itself is conceived.
In Part I, we examined a 2003 article by Keith Stanovich that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived. In that article, we learned that in education there may be a tendency to lean towards “coherence” in narratives or the “uniqueness” of silver bullet fads. These tendencies can subvert science-based reading practice.
I’ve observed an interesting divide in how people react to and interpret the term “the science of reading” (or “SOR” for short).
For some, the term elicits eager head nodding — it’s even become incorporated into the sales pitch of many a vendor of education products. For others, the term elicits a gut reaction akin to disgust.
There’s a lot wrapped up in how someone may think of “science” at large that then influences their reactions to the term of the “science of reading.” But don’t just take my word for it. Keith and Paula Stanovich penned some really insightful pieces about this in the early 2000s, and outlined how educators can understand and leverage science to inform their own instructional practice.
After the recent mass murders by disturbed teenagers with all-too readily available assault weapons, it’s hard to see a way forward given the dysfunction of our political system. Short of federal gun regulation, there are other areas we can influence that could help to prevent troubled teenagers from making plans to hurt themselves and others.
There’s a debate that has flared up around mass shootings that over-simplifies the issues into gun control vs. mental health. Yet these both need to be part of the conversation. We need to decrease access to assault weapons, while increasing access to sustained mental health services.
One of the keynotes at the NYC Learning and the Brain conference I’d just posted about was by Jonathan Gottschall on “The Story Paradox,” and which was based on his book of the same name.
His talk was compelling enough that I promptly read his book as well. Like Gottschall, I’ve done some pondering about Plato’s long ago warnings against the power of the written word back when I did a nerdy deep dive into the roots of close reading (“Close Reading: The Context of an Exigesis“), so this idea that storytelling can be a double edged sword resonated with me. And his warnings about the dangers of storytelling, particularly through social media, seemed an important part of the puzzle of the rise of Trump, the far right, and QAnon, amongst other phenomenon such as anti-vaxxers during this turbulent age dominated by Facebook and Twitter.
I wrote a little while ago about Andrew Watson’s excellent book, “The Goldilocks Map.” I had an opportunity to attend a Learning and the Brain conference, which was what sparked Andrew’s own journey into brain research and learning to balance openness to new practice with a healthy dose of skepticism. In fact, Andrew was one of the keynote presenters at this conference – and I think his trenchant advice provided an important grounding for consideration of many of the other presentations.
I think there’s something in the nature of presenting to a general audience of educators that compels researchers to attempt to derive generalized implications of their research that can all too easily overstep the confines of their very specialized and specific domains.