Have you heard about the controversy over the winner of the Scripps National Spelling Bee? Not the fact that the winner was juicing. I mean, he was, but it was with, y'know, juice; the kid's thirteen years old, for Pete's sake! No, I'm talking about the controversy over the fact that Arvind Mahankali was declared the winner after "correctly" spelling the word 'knaidel.' Turns out that the proper spelling of this delicious Judaic treat is a matter of some dispute.
Well, what do you expect? We Jews are a classically disputatious bunch. And, in fairness, 'knaidel,' being derived from a language (Yiddish) that does not use the Roman alphabet, really has no "standard" spelling. Thus, reasonable people--or, for that matter, people who bicker over the results of spelling bees--can disagree over whether the proper spelling is 'knaidel,' 'kneidel,' 'knaydl,' or 'jysnofsky'--the spelling is whatever enough people agree it is. Or, for the purposes of Scripps, whatever Webster's Third New International Dictionary--the tournament's official arbiter of all things orthographical--says it is.
I've never really understood what someone proves by doing well on a spelling bee. Some folks associate good spelling with intelligence, but, truly, all Mahankali proved is that he has a freakishly good memory. Still, I guess this could lead to a lucrative career debugging spell-checkers. I guess someone's got to do it.
I do have one request: Could SportsCenter please stop covering the spelling bee? I mean, whether you consider the contest a charming throwback to a simpler era or just a moment in the sun for the nerdiest among us--or both--I think we can all agree that spelling is not a sport! What's next? ESPN will start covering soccer?
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Friday, May 31, 2013
More Musings
The Spanish word for 'lettuce' is 'lechuga,' which, to me, sounds vaguely frightening--like it would make a good title for a b-grade horror movie: "Tonight, on the Sci-Fi channel: 'Lechuga! Leaves of the Apocalypse.'"
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Problem with Reading
Apparently, according to a front-page article in today's Times, fostering student improvement in reading is more difficult than fostering such improvement in math. To which this English teacher says, "Well, DUH!"
I can't imagine that this truly comes as a surprise to anybody. I mean, we've all known for ages that math teachers have it easy. Math, after all, is just a bunch of steps. Whether you're adding fractions with unlike denominators or deriving some factorization of calculusitude (did I say that right?), all you really need to do is perform certain steps in a certain order to reach the appropriate conclusion. Reading, though, is a whole different animal.
Think about it: In order to teach reading, you first have to be clear about what reading is. On a fundamental level, it involves decoding--the act of viewing marks on paper (or wherever) and translating these into words. But of course, if that were all that was involved in the act of reading, then I could claim the ability to read Italian--or Korean, for that matter. I can read Korean words (one of my many hidden talents), but even the Korean equivalent of a "Dick and Jane" book ("See Kim Jong-un rant! Rant, Kim, rant!") would stymie me.
Teaching reading involves teaching children (or adults) to both decode and then to derive meaning from what they have decoded. And that sounds far simpler than it is. After all, unlike mathematical operations--which involve a finite set of steps that can more or less be followed by anyone--the act of reading comprehension involves myriad discrete skills--decoding, vocabulary acquisition, the ability to distinguish major from minor details, the ability to draw inferences---any one (or combination) of which can throw obstacles into the path of developing readers. And of course there is no one agreed-upon way to teach any of these things.
Of course, there is one simple solution to the problem of how to teach children to read: Make them read. Simplistic? Well, yes, especially given the education industry's reliance on high-stakes, multiple choice tests.
(DIGRESSION: These tests are of dubious value anyway. I have known professional reading educators who don't achieve perfect scores on these tests, mainly because a lot of times these tests pose questions with a number of reasonable answers, only one of which is the "best" answer--"best," of course being a highly subjective quality. EOD)
Still, I truly believe that, if teachers simply demanded that students read every day--while giving them more or less complete freedom to choose the materials that interested them--we would see a steady increase in reading ability. And maybe even in test scores, too.
I can't imagine that this truly comes as a surprise to anybody. I mean, we've all known for ages that math teachers have it easy. Math, after all, is just a bunch of steps. Whether you're adding fractions with unlike denominators or deriving some factorization of calculusitude (did I say that right?), all you really need to do is perform certain steps in a certain order to reach the appropriate conclusion. Reading, though, is a whole different animal.
Think about it: In order to teach reading, you first have to be clear about what reading is. On a fundamental level, it involves decoding--the act of viewing marks on paper (or wherever) and translating these into words. But of course, if that were all that was involved in the act of reading, then I could claim the ability to read Italian--or Korean, for that matter. I can read Korean words (one of my many hidden talents), but even the Korean equivalent of a "Dick and Jane" book ("See Kim Jong-un rant! Rant, Kim, rant!") would stymie me.
Teaching reading involves teaching children (or adults) to both decode and then to derive meaning from what they have decoded. And that sounds far simpler than it is. After all, unlike mathematical operations--which involve a finite set of steps that can more or less be followed by anyone--the act of reading comprehension involves myriad discrete skills--decoding, vocabulary acquisition, the ability to distinguish major from minor details, the ability to draw inferences---any one (or combination) of which can throw obstacles into the path of developing readers. And of course there is no one agreed-upon way to teach any of these things.
Of course, there is one simple solution to the problem of how to teach children to read: Make them read. Simplistic? Well, yes, especially given the education industry's reliance on high-stakes, multiple choice tests.
(DIGRESSION: These tests are of dubious value anyway. I have known professional reading educators who don't achieve perfect scores on these tests, mainly because a lot of times these tests pose questions with a number of reasonable answers, only one of which is the "best" answer--"best," of course being a highly subjective quality. EOD)
Still, I truly believe that, if teachers simply demanded that students read every day--while giving them more or less complete freedom to choose the materials that interested them--we would see a steady increase in reading ability. And maybe even in test scores, too.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Meet the New Blog. . .
The other day, a friend and member in good standing of Solipsist Nation sent me a link to an article in The New Yorker, "The Curse of Reading and Forgetting" by Ian Crouch. In the article, Crouch laments the fact that, of the countless books he has read and enjoyed throughout his life, he can remember very little about the books themselves beyond the fact of having read them--and sometimes not even that. As I read, I couldn't help but recognize myself in Crouch's commentary--I, too, can scarcely remember a thing about the myriad books I've read--and I felt, frankly, relieved. I'm not alone! I'm not suffering from some strange, literary Alzheimer's Disease, destined to end up drooling in some nursing home, rereading Middlemarch and wondering why it sounds vaguely familiar! Or, at any rate, if I am falling prey to such a disease, I am not alone. Indeed, Crouch's article is not the first piece I've read about this apparent pandemic--call it Bibliamnesia. I've actually read two other articles, both from The New York Times book review, which touch on the same topic. (Funny how I can remember reading those.)
So if I--along with at least three professional writers--suffer from Bibliamnesia, it stands to reason that others do, as well. In fact, I suspect that much of the reading public suffers from this malady to a greater or lesser extent. What is to be done?
Crouch points out that one fairly effective remedy for the syndrome is simple re-reading: Don't remember what happens in The Pickwick Papers? Well, just go back and reread it. The only problem with this remedy is that it entails re-reading The Pickwick Papers. And, seriously, who has time for that? So I have a better suggestion: Bibliamnesia, the blog. In this space, I will post "Everything I remember about. . . " whatever book happens to be under discussion that day. These may be classic texts or just things that happen to be sitting on my bookshelves, mocking me with their having-been-readness. My hope is that civic-minded folks will, in the comments section, provide additional details from their own readings of the books--or at any rate may be inspired to read the books themselves and then tell me what I've forgotten. Indeed, I invite anyone to send me their own "Everything I remember about. . . " articles, which I will be happy to share. In this way, I feel I can do a small service to literature--to say nothing of improving everyone's ability to show off at dinner parties.
Anyway, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
So if I--along with at least three professional writers--suffer from Bibliamnesia, it stands to reason that others do, as well. In fact, I suspect that much of the reading public suffers from this malady to a greater or lesser extent. What is to be done?
Crouch points out that one fairly effective remedy for the syndrome is simple re-reading: Don't remember what happens in The Pickwick Papers? Well, just go back and reread it. The only problem with this remedy is that it entails re-reading The Pickwick Papers. And, seriously, who has time for that? So I have a better suggestion: Bibliamnesia, the blog. In this space, I will post "Everything I remember about. . . " whatever book happens to be under discussion that day. These may be classic texts or just things that happen to be sitting on my bookshelves, mocking me with their having-been-readness. My hope is that civic-minded folks will, in the comments section, provide additional details from their own readings of the books--or at any rate may be inspired to read the books themselves and then tell me what I've forgotten. Indeed, I invite anyone to send me their own "Everything I remember about. . . " articles, which I will be happy to share. In this way, I feel I can do a small service to literature--to say nothing of improving everyone's ability to show off at dinner parties.
Anyway, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
Here's to Your Health, Again
The other day, I posted about the latest Republican attempts to thwart implementation of Obamacare. A friend of mine, who has made no secret of her disdain for this particular piece of legislation, reiterated her opposition to it. Fair enough, although that did not address the basic point of my piece, which was the insane level of obstructionism of various GOP politicians: In this case, going so far as to block provisions of the Affordable Care Act (the law of the land, mind you, duly passed by legitimately elected representatives) that would make it easier for the desperately poor to gain access to health care and that would literally cost them and their states ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for the first three years.
What occurred to me today, as I pondered once again this friend's ongoing dislike of Obamacare, is the fact that--for all the opposition's sound and fury and gnashing of teeth and cries of "Tyranny!"--the law hasn't even gone into effect yet! And if early reports from states like California are any indication, many of the dreaded repercussions feared by Obamacare opponents--such as higher insurance premiums--will not come to pass. So, here's my modest suggestion: Why don't people just relax and wait and see what actually happens with the ACA, instead of prophesying the imminent fall of the Republic if and when it is enacted?
Of course, that's not going to happen. The GOP will continue to scream and wail and convene nonsensical votes to repeal Obamacare--a repeal they all know is never, ever going to happen--because what else have they got? They certainly have shown no interest in proposing better legislation--or worse legislation--or any legislation. And the more they scream, the more a sensible observer must recognize how benign--if not downright helpful--Obamacare will turn out to be.
If the GOP truly thinks the law is a disaster--really believes the vast majority of the country would be harmed by it--then the smartest thing they could do, from a political perspective, is to shut up, sit back, and wait for the law to take effect. If people truly end up hurt by the law--well, then, the Republicans will solidify a Congressional majority for many years to come. Lest anyone think otherwise, let's be perfectly clear: Republicans are not afraid of the potential harm the Affordable Care Act might cause; they are, however, completely terrified at the thought that it will work.
What occurred to me today, as I pondered once again this friend's ongoing dislike of Obamacare, is the fact that--for all the opposition's sound and fury and gnashing of teeth and cries of "Tyranny!"--the law hasn't even gone into effect yet! And if early reports from states like California are any indication, many of the dreaded repercussions feared by Obamacare opponents--such as higher insurance premiums--will not come to pass. So, here's my modest suggestion: Why don't people just relax and wait and see what actually happens with the ACA, instead of prophesying the imminent fall of the Republic if and when it is enacted?
Of course, that's not going to happen. The GOP will continue to scream and wail and convene nonsensical votes to repeal Obamacare--a repeal they all know is never, ever going to happen--because what else have they got? They certainly have shown no interest in proposing better legislation--or worse legislation--or any legislation. And the more they scream, the more a sensible observer must recognize how benign--if not downright helpful--Obamacare will turn out to be.
If the GOP truly thinks the law is a disaster--really believes the vast majority of the country would be harmed by it--then the smartest thing they could do, from a political perspective, is to shut up, sit back, and wait for the law to take effect. If people truly end up hurt by the law--well, then, the Republicans will solidify a Congressional majority for many years to come. Lest anyone think otherwise, let's be perfectly clear: Republicans are not afraid of the potential harm the Affordable Care Act might cause; they are, however, completely terrified at the thought that it will work.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Existennistialism
“We know that tomorrow we are not going to say, ‘Stop calling us the French Open, call us Roland Garros!’ to two, three, five or eight million British fans who are crazy about tennis and to even more Americans. It doesn’t work like that in this era. The time of marketing dictatorship, of worldwide campaigns is a bit démodé. We have Internet, Facebook. We can’t take people for fools. And if they have decided to call it the French Open, in a sense, we should say, ‘So much the better.”’
--Edouard-Vincent Caloni, communications and marketing director, French Tennis Federation ("A Puzzler in Paris: French Open or Roland Garros?")
Lighting a Gauloise, Caloni continued:
"In the end, what does it matter? We watch--all of us doomed--as th e men, the women, swat the ball back and forth, over the net, into the blood-red clay. . . .The days pass, the world spins. . . . The tournament--French Open, Roland Garros--either way a momentary distraction on the journey to la oblivion. Do we not all merely serve and volley in a futile rally against the impending nothingness? When the celestial linesman calls us for our foot faults, what matters it then if chroniclers write of l'open Francais or Roland-Garros, for ultimately it is only life.
"Oh, and if his knee holds up, Rafa's totally got this in the bag."
--Edouard-Vincent Caloni, communications and marketing director, French Tennis Federation ("A Puzzler in Paris: French Open or Roland Garros?")
Lighting a Gauloise, Caloni continued:
"In the end, what does it matter? We watch--all of us doomed--as th e men, the women, swat the ball back and forth, over the net, into the blood-red clay. . . .The days pass, the world spins. . . . The tournament--French Open, Roland Garros--either way a momentary distraction on the journey to la oblivion. Do we not all merely serve and volley in a futile rally against the impending nothingness? When the celestial linesman calls us for our foot faults, what matters it then if chroniclers write of l'open Francais or Roland-Garros, for ultimately it is only life.
"Oh, and if his knee holds up, Rafa's totally got this in the bag."
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