Writing DisSPELLed

Evry day, lik clokwurk, thu handz go up. Its daylee jurnul-ryting tim in mi Langwige Arz clas, and thuh sam handful uv stoodenzs raiz tere hanz just after I finish intrudoosing thee aktiftee. I don reelee haf to asc them. Chancez are, I olredee now whut thu qwestun is:

(And if you can read and understand what I just wrote, then you already have an idea of where I'm trying to go with this. So bonus points for you.)

"Mr. Ballinger, how do you spell 'calendar?'"
"Mr. Ballinger, is this how you spell 'noisy?'"
"Mr. Ballinger, I think I spelled 'accepted' right, but I'm not sure."

I was fortunate that Dr. Thomas happened to be present on one morning, early in the school year, to witness this occurrence. One of my students (my most dependable one for spelling checks) raised her hand and asked how to spell a word (I don't recall it just now). As I do with all students, I spelled it for her. She said 'thank you' and moved on with her journal-writing. He commented that my action did much more to communicate authentic language practice to her than simply advising her to "look it up," as in the dictionary. Me, I just felt fortunate she happened to ask me a word I knew how to spell; the alternative might have produced a little flushing in the face.

But what's the automatic response we hear to such a request in the workplace? "Look it up." Or failing that, "who cares?"

Who, indeed?

Note that in my class, we were doing journal-writing. I don't ever grade my students for spelling errors in their personal journals. Who worries about spelling when the audience is you? The daily journals are merely an outlet to engage them in continued writing practice; part of that is fostering the freedom to make mistakes.

Yet when I continue to get requests to spell words in journal-writing of all things, it tells me quite a bit about the way my kids see writing. They're afraid to make a mistake. Why do we make mistakes? To learn, of course. But do we want to banish all mistake-making in schools? Lord, I hope not - how else would we learn? But in all of our tireless efforts to "perfect" students' writing, are we putting the correctness of spelling and grammar in a lofty position it has no business hoarding? If kids get to the point where they would rather turn in a blank sheet of paper, still pristine and "perfect," instead of a draft full of missspelled words and incorrect grammar, how much good have we accomplished? We've stopped them in their tracks before they have even had a fair chance to start!

Nevertheless, if spelling must occupy a place in reading and writing workshop, it's only right that we give students as much input as possible. Cunningham and Allington hit it when they suggest doing word walls and developing fluency based on frequent, sustained reading done by the children. I would certainly hesitate to put up a word wall consisting of prescribed "commonly misspelled words" the first day(s) my kids walk into the classroom. Who am I to tell them what they can and cannot spell before they have even read aloud one passage or handed me a single sample of their writing? Pretty presumptuous I'd say. Were I an elementary or middle-school child, I might be a bit insulted that the teacher had already decided what words I must be proficient in and which ones I supposedly needed to focus on. I'd be tempted to not turn in one paper or volunteer my voice in any read-alouds. What would be the point? She already knows what I'm capable of, apparently - it's not like I'd be giving her anything new!

I must mention I love the "Making Words" activity (p. 64-74). We have mentioned in class that an accepted/acceptable concept in critical pedagogy is coercion. Giving students the rare opportunity to play around with words by rearranging the letters is an effective way to get them to discover new strategies; at the samr time as they are having fun with finding the "secret word," we are teaching them about spelling and phonics - something we can smugly (kidding) point out to them afterward.