Yesterday in the San Francisco Ferry Building, which is lately a foodie destination with many high-end shops and restaurants, Matthew and I were heading in the general direction of Peets Coffee. (None for me: I’ve tapered down to third-caff and two cups a day, with an end in sight and rather effortless so far I might say. Anyway.)
Along the way to Peets was a meat market. At the outside of the meat market near the hallway was a blackboard with the day’s specials. In big letters on the blackboard, someone on the staff had written:
Now in the Ferry Building for “Two Years”!
Ugh.
This was not quite as bad as the sign I saw about ten years ago, in our neighborhood in Oakland, where a seasonal vendor wanted to clear out his inventory to make room for Xmas Trees and thus put up a sign saying, in big letters,
“HALF PRICE” all “PUMKIN’S”
but it was pretty bad.
I walked over to the sign without really consciously deciding to and was ready to lick my thumb so as to wash the offending spurious quotes off the board, thus violating the shopkeeper’s First and Fourth Amendment rights in the pursuit of my elitist liberal agenda. But then it occurred to me that this was what my edumacator wife would call a “teachable moment.”
One of the big controversies in pedagogy these days is between supporters of what’s called “whole language” and supporters of what’s called “phonics.” Those camps map roughly, but not precisely, to liberals and conservatives, respectively. “Phonics” is actually a bit of a misnomer for the latter crowd, but the more accurate terms are less familiar. Most people, giving the matter a moment’s thought, will admit that strict phonics is a less than effective method of teaching a language such as English, with its insanely nonfenetik spellings.
What “phonics” actually entails is a conservative, teacher-centered, traditional approach to instruction where flow of information is unidirectional, students are expected to conform to class structure, rote memorization, drilling, and rigorous high-stakes testing are prized. “Whole language,” on the other hand, is more (but not entirely) student-centered, with the teacher being responsive to the student’s needs. The idea is that children learn their native tongue extremely effectively by osmosis, learning vocabulary and grammar through unstructured interaction with fluent speakers, and to the degree that teachers can adapt their techniques to take advantage of this facility, they’ll be more effective.
As is the case with most big ideas with which the schools are afflicted, neither whole language nor phonics works for all kids. The key is allowing teachers flexibility to determine which kids need which method, which of course causes atheism and homosexuality. (Or so say some of the most ardent partisans of phonics.) (OK, they don’t really say that, but I can tell that’s what they think.)
The important detail here is that in the whole language model, an instructor will respond to a child making a mistake in a much different way than a phonics-leaning teacher. Say a kid comes to the teacher and says
“Cindy am running with scissors!”
A whole language response: “Oh, my goodness, Mark, you’re right. Cindy is running with scissors.” This affirms that the kid has conveyed the necessary meaning, while modeling proper grammar.
A phonics response: “Cindy, stop running with scissors! Mark, you said that wrong. It should be...” This response points out the error in an efficient manner, thus making Mark feel lower than snake spit saving valuable pedagogical time.
As I stood there, tongue out and thumb pointing into my opened mouth (OK, not really, but it’s a nice image), I realized that this particular instance called for a phonics approach. So I didn’t lick my thumb. Instead, I dragged my dry thumb over the chalked quote marks, removing them but leaving plain smudged evidence that they had been there before, and thus showing that they had been removed, thus highlighting the correction, which I figured would be only slightly less direct than grabbing the butcher by the lapels and saying “quotation marks are not to be used as a means of emphasis! You’ve got detention, Mister!”
I only hope I didn’t damage the butcher’s self-esteem too badly.
Posted by: Chris Clarke
Categories:
The Neighborhood
Writing
Send to Del.icio.us; Digg; Ma.gnolia; Reddit; Spurl; Newsvine; StumbleUpon
Login or Register to save this post as a favorite or email it to a friend.

