Now, I realize that this shouldn't technically count as a new post, but I don't care. It is a revision of the previous post--an article that has been accepted for publication in this year's Utah English Journal (October). So, for those who care, or have the time, or both, or whatever, here is the revised edition. Maybe I'll get to posting more frequently now.
No, I couldn't hear you laughing. I was busy heckling myself. I have a stats class to master (cue violent vomiting sound effect, splatters and all) this semester. Also on tap, a course rewrite for my independent study class. It's a good thing I have a competent student teacher.
Okay, I'll shut up now so those who care can get on with things, and those who don't can get on with life. I've already presented this at a Central Utah Writing Project conference, and I'm also proposing to present at the Utah Council of Teachers of English conference this October. We'll see what happens.
Oh, yeah. I'm leaving off the title and the reference list since they are exactly the same as before.
And as always, comments and criticisms are always welcome.
Yes, I am one of those geeky idealistic English teachers,
who occasionally fantasize about being Robin Williams’ character Mr. Keating from
the classic film Dead Poets Society. After twelve years of unsuccessfully
convincing my students to call me “O Captain, My Captain,” I still hold to the
belief that I can get my students to “savor words and language” (Haft,
Henderson, Witt, Thomas, & Weir, 1989).
Regardless of an individual’s ability or inherent wordsmithiness, I
encourage all students to play with
words on many different levels. On
Fridays, we set aside time to play
with words. Just play. But why?
Aren’t there roughly sixteen kajillion “testable” language arts
objectives to cover in the first semester alone? Yes, but don’t worry about those; I’ll
explain.
Wordplay is defined by Figgins and
Johnson (2007) as students “exploring the possibilities of words on the page in
front of them as those words collect, collide, and constrict, then converge and
ultimately, connect” (p.29). Huh? Just wait.
Garcia et al (2007) define word play in two senses: “[1] as having fun
and [2] to refer to the ‘looseness’ or ‘play’ that is needed in rubberized
brake pads….If there is too much play in overstretched rubber bands, they are
ineffective, while if there is no play, they are useless. Language is much the same. Without a sense of play, babies could not learn
to talk nor could adults adjust their language to talk about new concepts”
(p.51). When we get a new computer or
cell phone, most of us don’t bother reading the instruction guide. Instead, we play around with the new toy
until we understand how to manipulate it.
Sure, but why play with words in the
classroom? Why not just teach them the
core curriculum and be done with it?
Roger Shanley (2007) found that word play activities addressed state
core language arts standards, were more informal and comfortable for students
to work with, but at the same time promoted student creativity. Author Phillip Pullman said that “The most
valuable attitude we can help children adopt – the one that, among other
things, helps them to write and read with the most fluency and effectiveness
and enjoyment – I can best characterise by the word playful” (Pullman,
2005). Play is work in disguise. Playing with words is working to master the
language. To fulfill most academic
assignments, students need not extend themselves to their linguistic boundaries
(Pomerantz & Bell, 2007). This
language is often flat and voiceless. In
order to improve writing (and it may appear to be taking a step backward),
students must return to the basics of language, which includes, first and
foremost a positive attitude toward language (Pullman, 2005). Figgins and Johnson (2007) show that
“students’ relationships with language are more likely to change when they are
permitted to play with it, but teachers must construct multiple classroom
situations for experimentation, and thus change to take place” (p.29).
What I can do, as a language arts
teacher, is provide a time and a place for students to take risks and play with
words in a safe environment, allowing them to grow as writers (Kazemek, 1999;
Whitaker, 2008). By doing so, students
build their confidence, their vocabulary, their understanding and mastery of
different genres, and they start to develop their own personal voice.
So where do you start? Like the rest
of you, I have students who don’t speak English and students who hate English
mixed in with students who love language almost as much as I do. How do you level the playing field? I have found that playing is the best way to
break down barriers on the playground, in the sandlot, and in the
classroom. Pullman noted that word play
“begins with nursery rhymes and nonsense poems, with clapping games and finger
play and simple songs and picture books.
It goes on to consist of fooling about with the stuff the world is made
of: with sounds, and with shapes and colours…and with language. Fooling with it, playing with it, pushing it
this way and that, turning it sideways, painting it different colours, looking
at it from the back, putting one thing on top of another, asking silly
questions, mixing it up, making absurd comparisons, discovering unexpected
similarities, making pretty patterns, and all the time saying “Supposing…I
wonder…What if…” (2005).
So we play with
how words sound, how words look, and how words taste. I’d like you
play along now. And, no, that’s not a
suggestion. Put down this article and
grab a pen and paper (or scribble in the margins). We’ll start with a couple pre-writing
assignments:
1. Write down 3
different letters of the alphabet.
(Consonants work better.)
2. List the objects
in your pockets/wallet/bag.
3. Write down a
handful of at least three actions you enjoy doing. Be specific.
Don’t just say “hiking;” instead write “hiking The Narrows in Zion
National Park.”
Now
that the assignment is over, we’ll proceed.
The most basic play involves actual sounds. To quote scripture for my own purpose, I say “Hear
my words…and give ear unto me, ye that have knowledge. For the ear trieth words, as the mouth
tasteth meat. Let us choose to us
judgment: let us know among ourselves what is good” (Job 34:2-4). Even the least of us enjoys sounds that
resonate in our ears and syllables that slip off our tongues. And I try to get my students to acknowledge
that fact through play. We start with
Internet funnies like Neil Cicierega’s Potter Puppet Pals video "The
Mysterious Ticking Noise" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tx1XIm6q4r4) and this
version of The Vestibules’ “Bulbous Bouffant” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uuCNAwXGaQ). If you haven’t seen these clips, pause again
and go watch them. If you have, you’ll
know what I’m talking about.
After we have heard how awesome the
sounds of words can be, we create our own Cool Word Lists. Here is an example of the start a
collaborative list collected by 9th graders:
abhor
|
conundrum
|
gregarious
|
miniscule
|
reciprocate
|
abridge
|
cudgel
|
imbibe
|
nefarious
|
regurgitate
|
adjudicate
|
curmudgeon
|
implore
|
odoriferous
|
robust
|
adroit
|
deluge
|
incarcerate
|
ostentatious
|
saunter
|
alibi
|
dilapidated
|
infiltrate
|
pandemonium
|
serendipitous
|
ambivalent
|
discombobulate
|
ingenious
|
parabola
|
shabby
|
amble
|
divulge
|
kumquat
|
parsimonious
|
stamina
|
bamboozle
|
facetious
|
lackadaisical
|
perfunctory
|
stupor
|
behemoth
|
fidget
|
loquacious
|
pilfer
|
surreptitious
|
bombastic
|
finagle
|
lugubrious
|
pique
|
thwart
|
burgle
|
flabbergasted
|
luminous
|
placate
|
ubiquitous
|
catastrophic
|
flagellum
|
machination
|
protuberance
|
vagabond
|
chortle
|
fortuitous
|
magnanimous
|
pulchritude
|
vagrant
|
cohesive
|
furrow
|
malignant
|
pungent
|
voluptuous
|
connive
|
gargantuan
|
maniacal
|
recalcitrant
|
zesty
|
These
lists are stored in their individual writer’s notebooks, to which they add more
words over the course of the school year.
Another method for collecting cool
words comes from Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy (1996). She
suggests having a physical word pool that students can draw from when they need
to find a word of inspiration. And so my
classes gave birth to Chuck three years ago.
Our “word chuck” is really just a black plastic bucket with duct tape
patches where students, when they collect a word they deem worthy of sharing
with the rest of the world, or at least their fellow classmates, write the word
on the back of a raffle ticket and “feed” Chuck. When feeling uninspired, students pull out a
handful of tickets to see if anything sparks their ignition. Collecting words gives the students an
opportunity to play with words in an isolated manner, without connecting to
anything else, thus helping them to see value in individual words. When they start manipulating two or three or
fourteen words in to create meaning, you can tell they start to “get”
words. Former students who fail to dodge
me in the grocery store still ask how Chuck is doing and if he has been fed
lately. Establishing and maintaining
word pools also allows them to develop unknown vocabulary in a nonthreatening
way.
Once students have a comfortable
grasp of individual words and sounds and cadence, it’s time to put them
together. Again, I like to start on a
basic level with tongue twisters.
Several resources are available online as well as in the children’s
section of your local bookstore; however, my favorite is Dr. Seuss’ Fox in Sox. Students roar as they witness how tied up I,
the supposed word-guru, get when trying to demonstrate these delectably
scrambled sentences.
From there I move on to plays on
words, an essential element to any type of humor. Bring in comics, Laffy Taffy wrappers, joke
books (Kazemek, 1999), especially anything that includes bad puns. This low form of humor works on many levels
(and could be used as a springboard for many other language-artsy lessons like
allusion or parody). Chocolate Moose for Dinner (Gywnn,
1976), Olive, the Other Reindeer
(Walsh, 1997), and the Amelia Bedelia series (Parish, 2003) are a perfect place
to start regardless of whether you are working with first graders or
freshmen. Students enjoy reading and
identifying puns and whatnot, but not as much as they do when they attempt to
create them individually (or collaboratively).
These attempts at play could be used as non-fluffy extra credit,
too. The students actually have to think
about crafting language instead of filling out a mindless worksheet. Hmmm…go figure! My personal favorite example of “lower”
simple word play is David Lubar’s Punished!
because it includes puns, oxymorons, anagrams, and palindromes. Making students aware of the absurdities of
the English language heightens their awareness of rhetorical devices in
“higher” forms of literature, speech, and writing—especially when you require
them to include them in their writing assignments. Unfortunately, it also results in a flood of
bad Internet jokes in my inbox, too.
Although by no means a new way to
play, students love returning time and time again to the comforts of
alliteration. Again, a plethora (love
that word) of resources exists such as Stan and Jan Berenstain’s The B Book (1971) or Nicholas Heller’s Ogres! Ogres! Ogres! A Feasting Frenzy from
A to Z (1999) that illustrate effective uses of alliteration. Now we’re going to pause again so you can
write and play along.
Take your first letter and come up
with a line of alliteration. Come up
with at least ten words that start with your letter (sound). Try fitting some of them together. Now, take your second letter and create a
line that could be included in the Ogre book or fit into another alliterated
tale. Try one more by creating a whole
paragraph! Or even a story! Yes, they
should make sense. Sometimes we’ll roll
a letter die to determine the letter for the class. Competition between groups or individual
students brings out some amazing writing.
Here is an
example I wrote while I was playing with my Central Utah Writing Project
fellows:
“A Sudden Slayer Snuffing”
The somewhat psychotic slayer
slipped silently onto the sad scene.
Surreptitiously, she spied the sortie of zombies sipping and slurping
slimy substances from something, or someone recently smothered and smashed and
squished.
Suddenly, she shouted. “Stop,
you spleen suckers!” Screaming
sadistically, she sent a smattering of shotgun shells into their subhuman
skulls.
Stunned for second, the simple,
slobbering subjects smiled stupidly.
Sammy the Slayer shortly shrieked in shock then slumped slowly. Someone, or something, had circled, sneaked
up, seized, and strangled her.
Suppertime!
Other
sound devices that could be addressed in similar fashion could include, but are
not limited to consonance, assonance, rhyme, rhythm/meter, or repetition.
Another student favorite is
onomatopoeia. Just saying the name of
this technique brings smiles, if not giggles to everyone. Go ahead and try saying it with a scowl. Nope. I can’t do it either. And that’s because sounds can inspire. Let’s play some more together. Choose one of the actions you listed in your
pre-writing. Reflect for a few
moments. (Put the article down again, if
necessary.) Now write the words for the
sounds of your activity. In other words,
“onomatopoeiafy” your action. Then play
with the structure. Rearrange
images. Use a thesaurus or a Chuck if
you need help finding the right words.
String the ideas together to create a poem. Here is one example I got lucky with when
playing with sounds:
“For Zachary”
Not even
the
crack-sing-smack-sting-
barehanded snag
of a foul ball
while balancing
a foot-long
with yellow
mustard, onions
and sweet pickle
relish,
nor the
sky-slash-earth-crash-
explosion of
light and adrenaline
while
lightning’s intensity charges each arm hair
through the
double-paned window drizzle
and safety of
four walls,
nor the
sit-back-deep-black-
deep thought
expanse of infinite stars
while a dying
fire toasts backsides
like perfectly
golden marshmallows
slipped between
grahams
is worth
experiencing
without a son to
pass it on.
After the students have had some
practice playing in a structured setting (with my guidance), I let them try to
fly on their own. I’ll provide word
games for students to play with and struggle over and conquer. For beginners, or independent learners, word
searches and crossword puzzles suffice.
I also like to divide them into groups to play board games such as Boggle,
Scrabble, Mad Gab, Taboo, Scattergories, Bananagrams, or others. If you stop and think about it, most decent
board games are based on language and thinking.
Commercially produced grammar games such as Grammar Punk! work as well
if you just can’t give up control of your classroom.
Magnetic Poetry is also extremely
popular. I have several sets on a 4’x4’
whiteboard on one of my walls. When
students have free time, they congregate and try to outdo each others’ creative
endeavors. They take possession of their
creations and get upset when I don’t preserve the “masterpieces” from the
manipulations of other class periods. I
even have them fooling around with the online version (http://kids.magpogames.com/createpoem.cfm?kit=4). Go play for a minute if you need to. I had to (again) as I was writing this
article. In about ten seconds, I
actually came up with the phrase “winter window wish.” There’s no way I would have come up with that
unless I was just scrambling words around.
I have no immediate need for that phrase now, but it’ll probably make an
appearance somewhere down the road. It’s
in my notebook. Students also take
advantage of these playful platforms to collect phrases and images to use in
their writing later. Writer’s notebooks
fill up with ideas that they have conjured while simply playing. Found poetry in its several forms also
provides an arena for students to feel comfortable using others’ words,
changing them, and making them their own.
Meaning is broken down, absorbed, re-created, and reproduced through
simple play.
In his book On Writing, Stephen King said, “When it’s on target, a simile
delights us in much the same way meeting an old friend in a crowd of strangers
does” (2001). One of my personal recent
favorite similes comes from the Travel Channel’s Man Versus Food. At the end of one show, someone asks the host
how hot the chicken wings were. He
responded, “It was like licking the sun.”
Similes, like any other literary device, create imagery that students
love holding onto. I like to point out
particularly powerful ones as we read.
From Maniac Magee, “…screaming like an Aztec human sacrifice
about to be tossed off a pyramid” (Spinelli, 1999) often becomes a class
favorite.
I could ramble on describing and
sharing the different types of play my students engage in, but I think you get
the idea, and I need to end. However, before
I do, I need to emphasize the most important aspect of play: modeling. If you want your students to “think for
themselves” and “savor words and language” (Haft et al.,1989), you have to play
as well. Apart from providing the time
and the opportunity to play, you, as the teacher, have to provide the
example. Even in a safe environment,
playing with words and creating silliness requires taking personal risks. When students see our own processes while
playing with words, when we as adults take risks in front of them, it helps to
ease their stress levels and allows them to open up and let loose with the
wackiness, weirdness, and occasional wisdom found within the words of the
English language. Playing will force
students and teachers alike to step outside the boundaries of everyday
discourse and strive for something more creative, more imaginative, more
risky. The irony, though, is that while
this advanced word choice and construction occurs, the users feel more at ease
because of the context of the discourse.
The structure of play allows and encourages taking risks. It also has an “important role in the
development of learners’ identities, mulitcompentent selves, and communicative
repertoires” (Pomerantz & Bell, 2007, p. 575). Fears break down, inhibitions about
composition crumble, and students are empowered through the power of play.
