Friday, August 26, 2011

First Days 2

Watch out for the duplication from First Days 1


Friday, August 19, 2011

It is intermittently rainy and sunny. Saw Ms. Jacobs regarding keys, cables, Internet, and a TV. Arranging for the basic needs takes some time. I wonder what having a TV will do to our use of time? It has been good to not have the intrusion of the TV screen these last couple of days. I wonder how long we could have held out? Didn’t really even try, surrender to the screen. 

Thought about taking the train out to Bellville to UWC and asked Ferozah about how to do this. She was very concerned that I should first call someone and arrange for how to get to the campus. She thought I might connect with someone who would take advantage of me. I asked if Bellville was a particularly dangerous area. I don’t remember her words, but yes, Bellville is not so safe. So be it.

Our bedroom is on the corner of a limited access highway and a main city street. Traffic noise is constant. Today’s rain had made the streets much more talkative. When I woke (or was woken) I listened to the sounds of the traffic. It is hard to what to pay attention to.  I started listening to the whistles of a cab director at a bus stop across the street, then to the horns of the cab/vans. They both seemed patterned. There was a variety in the lengths and the sequence of both. Made me wonder if there is a communication pattern in their uses. Yesterday, I watched as the cab director also used his arms, hands generously as he also whistled.

It is later in the day. We now have a small TV on the table. I guess it will not be so bad, as there is nothing that interests me.  The programming is not so good. It reminds me of the shows that we watched while caravanning though Australia, only now the shows are in color and we don’t need rabbit ears. Still no Internet, but maybe it will kick in soon, as paper work and notifications have all been done. Rode a first bus today. It was R3.60, or about 50 cents.

I called UWC to see how I might best go about getting there. UWC is in Bellville, about a 30-minute drive to the west of Cape Town. Avril Grovers, the program assistant in Linguistics at UWC suggested that I call Dept. Chair Chris Stroud, as he was at home, near where I am staying. Chris will call on Sunday to set up a time when he will pick me up for the trip to UWC on Monday. Avril again asked when I wanted to make my seminar date. I should bring this up with Chris, to see if there would be interest in the early literacy talk I am working on.

Disrupting literacies with linguistic training.

What have come to be common practice in literacy education is more like educational malpractice. Literacy has been caught out in a conflict of interest. Education is funded by offering its students’ necks on the chopping block. Malpractice because what is being offered in the name of reading education in the United States does little to create thoughtful, skilled readers. Those who do learn to read in schools would likely have learned to do so on their own, as they had been “teacher-proofed” by productive at home literacy experience. Furthermore, these more privileged students continue to receive support for their literacies from continuing parental and family support. The practices of schooling are in many pragmatic ways related to the pragmatics of the home language situation. Both parents and teachers “quiz their kids,” make worth contingent on performance, and are willing to make assessment of their kids with analogous, abstract rubrics. (spelling tests, oral reading accuracy, swim times, and beauty contests). In many ways, these “successful” children surrender their freedoms to adult reconstructions of who the children are thought to be. And these are the ones for whom school and home are thought to beneficial. In contrast are students who are not so well suited to the vicissitudes of classroom life. Kids who come from homes that are not patterned on middle class, US habitus do not do so well in school. The language patterns in reading groups are not so much like those at home. Tag questions, like “OK?” might be considered real questions at first by these linguistically different kids. The impelled self-regulation that is expected of even very young children can be interpreted by linguistically and culturally different children as lack of standards, a time to play it off. And yet, when these children from different linguistic and cultural backgrounds (different that is, from an imagined middle class, white language performance) famously and consistently fail, educators at the top of the heap fob it off as lack of persistence, difference in value for education, lack of parental support – anything but the truth – that we have failed much of our clientele.

This is not to say that there are not caring and sometimes highly skilled and knowledgeable teachers in the classrooms. But something interesting and troubling is happening to those teachers and their classrooms. Since No Child Left Behind, an act that de-professionalizes teachers, removes their control, and redirects federal funding to insider cronies, struggling readers at all levels must receive a mandated intervention that is based on rote learning of word attack. This despite the fact that that literacy researcher Paris has marked word analysis as a “constrained” skill, or one with an early ceiling, or lack of room for growth and improvement. The upshot of these programmatic interventions is that struggling readers in the eighth grade are being taught initial grapheme/phoneme correspondence, taught phonemic segmentation and blending. The “differentiation” that is mandated by the NCLB is accommodated by varying the amount of time students are subjected to their prescribed intervention. Another technique is to train teachers to cause students to read accurately and rapidly with the mistaken belief that students are increasing their fluency. Both of these techniques fail to address the needs of older readers, who for the most part have mastered sound/symbol correspondences. Malfeasance.


A conflict of interest emerges when you learn that the testing for all of the states for all of the kids is based on the Dynamic Indicators of Early Literacy Scale or DIBELS. The creators of DIBELS are currently under investigation for improper profiting from recommending the use of DIBELS as consultants for the US DOE. The DIBELS measures sound symbol correspondence, oral reading fluency. Students are orfed at least once per week, often daily. Oral reading fluency is a measure of number of words read accurately from standardized probe passages, minus the number of errors committed. Contrary to the title of the procedure, the ORF does not measure fluency. According to noted researchers such as Professor Risinki, fluency must also include consideration of intonation, prosodics, and other suprasegmentals that are indicative of meaningful language processing. Speed reading, my metaphor for ORF, may in fact be at odds with many of the more semantic features of oral reading. Further, without any attention to the creation of comprehension, a subtle message is created that reading does not entail any development of meaning. While the correct identification may be facilitated by the largely non aware sub-processing that is related to meaning development, students are never asked to verbalize what they think about these ORF passages.

Now a massive accountability project has grown up around NCLB. Individual school must show that their students are gaining on state mandated testing in reading (as well as math, and science). These results are disaggregated by race, gender, and learning disabilities. Schools are graded A – F on the performance of their students. But schools must also gain according to what is called Annual Yearly Progress, or AYP. AYP status is adjudged according to gains (or the lack of them) in individual cells of students. For example, Black, Hispanic, White, and disability each of 16 cells of differentiation must make gains or the school does not make AYP. After three years of failure to make AYP one of several remedies can occur. The school can be restaffed with a new principal, new teachers, or both. Parents of students have the right to choose a new, higher performing school, usually charters, or the state can take over the running of the school. The cheapest solution is to shuffle principals. That is what we have been doing. No new principals in a county-wide system, just move them. Of course, when a principal moves, he or she can take as many loyal staff members as he or she chooses. In all this movement or shuffle, the only ones who are not usually moving are the kids, especially the poor ones. While the state provide a voucher for the students who choose a charter school, it is seldom enough to cover the cost of tuition at the good schools. Therefore, parents are responsible for kicking in the rest. This public money for private school vouchers is a project from the Bush administration. It is not surprising therefore to read Bracey’s report that the inner circle of Bush’s former advisors, as well as large campaign downers have large stakes in the private, profit making charter school business.  This is selling children cheaply.

From a literacy perspective, what is wrong is legion, but permit me a modest proposal.


(Subsequently) titled The Role of Teachers’ Linguistic Knowledge in Literacy Interventions.


When using Halliday model for language, must take into account the social structures that exist to make meaning (affordances). The intent, the illocutionary intent, exists in “mother-tongue.” The target for the expression of the intent is in an acquired, or second language, so the “grafted child” must put together the first level message, translate into the second, the target discourse, and do so in such a way that is sensitive enough to deploy appropriate pragmatics in order to frame the message for the receiver.

If the goal is making a sandwich, there objects to manipulate, something to do. When the thing to do is manipulate language, it reverses the situation that the grafted child has regularly encountered outside of school settings. For sandwich example, there is the knife, the bread, the peanut butter, and action routines that use those objects. In school, learning literacy, “vocabulary” are decontextualized, and the goal becomes learning the words/language bits, and not making the sandwich.

In contrast, learning the language while doing the task, risks conflating the acquired ability of making a sandwich with the talk that accompanies it. From a literacy learning perspective, acquiring literacy requires the learner to develop metacognitive knowledge about literacy: to talk about the acts of reading and writing. Metacognitive knowledge necessitates decontextualized understanding of literacy, awareness that literacy and language are happening while making the sandwich. The mentor steps out of modeling the doing in order to say “The word is peanut butter. You can see it has two parts, one for peanut and one for butter.” > “Peanut has two sound bits, pea- and nut.” > “Peanut starts with /p/.” > “/p/ is written with the letter p.” And of course each of these instructional choices has specific vocabulary that can be used to label a completed process (viz. compound word, syllable, phoneme/sound, and letter, respectively. It is a whole to part scaffolding that ends up at letter-level knowledge and skill. Thus, letters and sounds, phonemes and phonological awareness are available for up take “all at once,” in context, and at the decision of the scaffolder/mentor/teacher. It is the job of the more knowledgeable expert to know what level of linguistic investigation may lead the reader to productive work that results in keener knowledge about language and literacy processes.

For whole groups, these processes may be modeled through think-alouds, but in order to repair malfunctioning literacy learners, the intervention to get them back on track must be delivered one-to-one. In addition to Halliday’s environmentally-induced  functionalism, I want to reclaim the psycholinguistics that emerged from Chomsky’s formalism. I do realize that Chomsky and his minimalist project are both under serious questioning from the likes of linguists like Pietre Seuren and philosophers like Michael Devitt. Yet, education is still operating from a generative-transformational model, so cognitive framing is still not a palimpsest. Well, actually it is, but none of us know it. Secondly, even if I am consciously operating from externalist linguistic stance, I do not preclude a mediating cognitive interface. It is the same difference, I think, that occurred when Chomsky reviewed Skinner’s Verbal Performance. And finally, the only practices in US literacy education culture that are actively using a structural functionalist paradigm are those of us who work in what are being called the new literacies, based on the theorizing of the New London Group. So, using psycholinguistics may not be too much of an anachronism.

The story starts with a first-grade literacy intervention project, based on Clay’s Reading Recovery, in which Dr. Susan Homan and I were able to stretch the teachers’ intervention delivery to a small group of maximum size three. In effect, the trained teachers were able to deliver and mediate three simultaneous, parallel lessons to three different, but closely matched (in literacy needs) struggling first graders. The lessons had some overlap in that two of the first graders might buddy read while the teacher collected a Running Record on the third. It might also necessitate that one of the children began the lesson with a Running Record rather than a warm-up familiar read. Perhaps only one child was a daily focus of the teacher during the writing segment, with the other two using a dry erase board for the target students’ sentence. The point here is that these modifications constituted one of the major modifications to Reading Recovery’s one-to-one tutorial lessons that were created in USF’s Accelerated Literacy Learning (ALL) program (Homan & King, )

But back to the point here, this kind of initial literacy instruction requires the scaffolder, the teacher to be aware of the level of the level of learners’ sophistication with code, level of inquiry in linguistics, and which aspect is breaking down for the learner. Here it is apparent to me that my thinking automatically goes to the struggling learner. What can be done to intervene when it isn’t going right? As I mentioned in my blood letting prologue, in the US, current responses to this legitimate question are framed in terms of programmatic interventions, and differentiated by the amount of time the learner spends in the program. I think that we need to consider a very different approach to understanding literacy glitches that occur for struggling students.

My first exposure to this teaching arena where teachers fix broken kids was in what I call the “clinical moment” in the history of reading (King & Stahl, 2011). Reading teachers were to diagnose what was wrong with disabled readers, and design remediation. [Do you know how many of the words in the preceding sentence require quotes, italics, or some indication that they are vocabulary for professional literacy events (Heath) that are no longer held to be best practices?] The point here is that the reading cultural milieu, replete its own literacy habitus, offered certain kinds of affordances for working with the struggling readers it helped to create. Reading was enamored of the Medical Community’s Scientism, and modeled reading and its work after clinical discourses. That meant that etiology of a reading problem was located on the student, and then fixed. Usually constitutional blocks were hypothesized, and training was undertaken to the extent that Carl Doman had teenagers crawling around the clinic to make up for reading deficits.  Weiner & Cromer delineated this medicalized paradigm for reading disorders in the Harvard Educational Review in the late 1960’s. The first break that I experienced in this delivery of medicalized services for broken readers happened in the early seventies when I learned about both Language Experience Approach (LEA) (Stauffer, Veatch, van Allen) and Reading Miscue Analysis (RMI) (Goodman & Burke) in a MA in Reading at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. To be sure, I also experienced much medical, clinical training in courses that were (in) appropriately called Reading Diagnosis and Reading Clinic. After all, the long running soap opera, General Hospital attests to the fact that we either want to be a doctor or marry one, well in the case of GH, maybe it is just to sleep with one. But I digress. Changes in the way reading and its instruction were conceptualized were in the wind.

Language Experience Approach disrupted the clinical moment by moving the focus from the disability to the unique experiences, motivations, and desires of the learner. In many ways, Stauffer early work with LEA is consistent with Halliday’s structural functionalism. When struggling readers learn from dictating and decoding their own stories about what is important to them, a very different approach to learning literacy processes comes into play. It is again, whole to part. And the direction or path from whole to part is formulated by the teacher with the reader’s unique linguistic competence/performance mapping. Literacy learning is also predicated on the available affordances of the dictated story. There is no end to the kinds of instruction that can come from writing out a dictated story. LEA is what is happening on the outside.

Reading Miscue Analysis (RMI) was literacy modeling based on Chomsky’s generative transformational grammar. RMI was an approach that allowed trained teachers to systematically analyze readers’ deviations from text. But in order to effectively use RMI, teachers must first have internalized a linguistic approach to a cognitive modeling of literacy processes. This is why this approach was labeled a psycholinguistic approach (Weaver). Using the analytic charts that the RMI provided, teachers considered graphophonics, syntax, and semantics, from both paradigmatic and syntagmatic perspectives. In addition to immediate miscue analysis that used the three cueing systems (meaning, syntax, and grapho-phonics) readers were asked to provide a free recall of the passages they read. The recall generated was evaluated by the teacher for its inclusion, relative to the source text, of key propositions. Follow-up probes provided for assisted recall of any missing key content from the passages. A combination of analysis from multiple data sources allowed teachers a linguistic basis for their interventions, and the interventions were likely based on manipulating graphophonics (word families, elkonian boxes for phonemic segmentation and blending), syntax (Kellogg-Hunt’s, Combs’ sentence combining), and semantics (use of cloze, prediction/confirmation). In deference and criticism to both of these innovations, I had no idea how to use them diagnostically when I initially “learned” how to work the procedures.

And that leads me to the point about these linguistically-based interventions for struggling readers:  they are complex, multi-factored teaching interventions. They require thoroughly trained teachers with both broad and deep functional knowledge of how linguistics works as a model for understanding literacy work. From my current perspective, re-mediating literacy requires that we rescale literacy as a linguistic detective story to find what part of the system is not working. My understanding here is highly influenced by a year-long sabbatical I took while a faculty member at Texas Woman’s University. The purpose of this sabbatical was to take training to become a Teacher Leader in Reading Recovery. Most Teacher Leaders are salaried school district people who work at the district-level, or building-level. The job that Teacher Leaders are training for is to train and manage the Reading Recovery program at a school district and train Reading Recovery teachers, who will work with struggling first grade readers.  Teacher Leaders each take 18 post-masters graduate course work over the course of the academic year. This I did. But since I was not employed by a school district, I was free to focus on the more theoretical aspects of the training (in contrast with the managerial competencies). 

The training site that I participated in (five days each week at a school and one full day in coursework, and one additional evening of training course observation and apprenticeship), was the first outside of Ohio State University. My trainer was Dr. Billie Askew, who was trained as a Teacher Leader Trainer (one who trains Teacher Leaders), at OSU, and was the first trainer to work off-site from OSU.  We trained in Richardson, Texas with a university graduate course credit affiliation with Texas Woman’s University. The bulk of the year-long training for both teachers and trainers of teachers was to view beginning reading from a psycholinguistic perspective. Later, when, with Dr. Susan Homan, I cloned Reading Recovery in an identical program called Accelerated Literacy Learning (ALL), I also taught teachers and trainers the following information:

Look at reading work of young children as a match/mismatch with the source texts. Conceptualize deviations from the source text (miscues, not mistakes) in terms of :

Cue Systems            Visual information            “looks right”                                     grapho-phonic
Language Structure            “sounds right”                        syntax
Meaning                        “makes sense”                        semantics/context 

In addition to the linguistic cueing systems is the teachers’ awareness that they are trying to create a “self improving system” (Clay) in the young struggling readers. This intent means that teachers work from a scaffolding stance in their support of the readers’ uptake of the linguistic cues available to them (Vygotsky; Wood, Bruner & Ross). Teachers never do for a reader what the reader can do for self. In addition to teaching first graders to know about linguistic cueing systems, teachers also embed strategic approaches to problem solving with text. This is where the self improving system comes into play. First a bit about the strategies and then the linguistic content upon which they are based.

It is safe to say that a first level of knowledge for the potential reader is the alphabet, letter names, and their possible sounds. However, it is not necessary that early readers have the alphabet intact before they start learning to read. From a Hallidayan perspective, all of the parts are available in the immediate task context. It is the choice of focus that instantiates a learning goal.  So while teachers may be modeling and directly teaching letter and sound knowledge, they are doing so within an overlay of strategy modeling and direct instruction. Some of these strategies are:

Early Strategies (Book, Print as objects)
Locating: using fingers to point and frame particular text
Direction: Left to right, top to bottom
Matching: demonstrating one-to-one correspondence between the number of words                        said and the number of words printed
Book handling: book held in an efficient manner, page turning is proficient
Print and pictures carry the message: read pictures visually, read traditional text             graphophonically.

Later Strategies (linguistic analysis of print)
Self-monitoring: using the three cue systems to see if the reading work is going in a             productive way.
Self-Checking: a general use of cueing systems to support ongoing literacy output
Independence: less a strategy than a contextual framing, but important nonetheless,             as it guides teachers’ choices in how to frame an intended instructional point.
Cross-Checking: using at least two cueing systems simultaneously to validate a             reading output.
Self-Correction: a result of appropriate strategy use.

And given that these two sets of content (linguistic cue systems and reading strategies) are taught holistically, within real text-based interaction, it is the teacher who designs literacy and literacy lessons at the point of need for an emerging reader, a reader who (hopefully) changes rather rapidly in how print is managed. Therefore, what teachers choose is conveyed by what they say to the reader. As an already categorized at-risk learner (a somewhat curious label for a first grader), it is important that the teacher chooses productive paths that lead the learner to literacy. Choosing productively means a focus on the linguistic system that is not being deployed by the reader, and attempting to bring it back into play so that the cue systems are being used reflexively, for balance. For example, an overemphasis on visual (graphophonic) information results in reading performance that is plausible given the configuration of the letters (/l ae m b/ for lamb in North American English). Certainly all of the letters are represented by a possible phoneme in English. Yet, the reader might ask “Hmmm, does that sound like a word in English?” or /l a I p/ for lip, same check). A teacher aware of a student’s over use, or eclusive use, of a graphophonic cued strategy would be moved to suggest using an alternative cue system for support. I teacher might say to a overly-graphophonic decoder “That certainly looks right, but does that sound like a word you know?” But what is the most productive way to get the student doing this. Only infrequently is telling a student the best way to go. The collection of prompts and situational understanding of prompt deployment for optimal student growth is called “teacher talk.” Teacher talk is a catch-all that aligns a cue system (selected by teacher for focus) with a strategy (selected by teacher for focus). Teacher selection is context and situation specific, not based on a curriculum guide, but drawn from the teachers’ wealth of knowledge about linguistics, language development, emergent literacy, and learning theory. Teachers can use linked cue systems and strategies to:

            Prompt for students specific strategy use (see above) connected to any of the                                    three or more cue systems (see above).
            Reinforce students’ independent use of strategies
            Correct students nonproductive strategy use.

You can readily see, I think, that the teacher is directly teaching the very processes that the reader needs to add to his or her repertoire as a functioning reader.

All the while being mindful that creating the student as an independent user of these strategies is the goal. The teacher becomes the embodied literacy curriculum, the mediating linguistic context through which the emerging reader emerges with literate behavior. Right now we have 4 undergraduate courses that are intended to ready teachers for their work with teaching reading. None of them is teaching what I have outlined here today. Either I go back to teaching undergraduate methods, or I keep my mouth shut.



First Days 1


Thursday, August 18, 2011

I intend to keep a very integrated blog on this experience. As such I will not be separating out the “research” from the “daily” experiences. It will be a bit of mental gymnastics to follow the jumps and contortions, but those of you reading that have spoken with me will recognize the (lack of) pattern.

We are in Cape Town.  The “we” are myself and my partner, Richard. The “Cape Town” is not yet known. The flights here were long, but largely uneventful. We are checked into the Forest Hills dorms with 2 bedrooms, lots of space, and little else. We have been inventoried, had our phone account topped up, and wait for an access card for the building services. When we arrived last night, I went grocery shopping for breakfast items.  Seeing prices in Rands makes me think before I buy. I know that the seemingly high numbers on food are the result of a 7 Rand to 1 dollar conversion factor, but R12.43 for a loaf of bread (not even “designer” bakery bread) makes me wonder how much I need bread.

People with whom I have interacted come in all gradations of hue, characteristics, and linguistics.  It is my habit to categorize, but I think my needs will be thwarted here. Probably a good exercise in diversity appreciation. Why sort? I also am aware that much of my apprehension about such is related to finishing The Covenant before leaving Tampa. Thanks, Chuck. A good primer and cautionary tale. So far I have been approached twice by panhandlers, not very different from Tampa, though Tampa panhandlers tend to be less aggressive and stick to intersections. Maybe the protection of the car as a skin helps shield from “the personal” of the panhanler’s request. I do notice that I get very gruff. HMM.  Last night, the young man who starred in the scenario assured me that he was not “a bad person.” What must he have thought about my brushoff?  How does one panhandle and not develop a sense of rejection? I remember when I used to ask strangers for money when I was part of a cooperative living group (not quite a commune). If we ran short of money, one of the house tasks was to “get some money.” I did not feel desperate, yet I imagine that my panhandlers are desperate. I want as much distance from the me of now, from the them of the situation.

Today, I need to get some situating done. Pick up an access card. Call Mastin about getting a UCT Internet access.  Begin learning the public transit. Go shopping for extended groceries and supplies (Richard is assembling a list.) I also want to visit Center City to get a dose of what this place is like.

Last night I woke in the middle of the night with an idea for this study of multilingual literacy training and teaching. The metaphor that came to mind is the grafted child. Gail Canella has a wonderful book on different metaphors that adults use when reasoning about childhoods. In it she details several metaphors for childhood. There is that “academic child,” needing and wanting instruction, the “wild child,” waiting to be tamed by the adult, etc. I remember there are four metaphors but can only call up these two.  In terms of the grafted child today while waiting to be vetted at UCT, I wrote:

(Subsequently) titled The Role of Teachers’ Linguistic Knowledge in Literacy Interventions.

There are different kinds of grafting. To what extent do these differentiated methods apply to language teaching and learning (metaphorically)? Notch binding, bud grafting, air layering. [return to these after a look at plant book].

When using Halliday model for language, must take into account the social structures that exist to make meaning (affordances). The intent, the illocutionary intent, exists in “mother-tongue.” The target for the expression of the intent is in an acquired, or second language, so the “grafted child” must put together the first level message, translate into the second, the target discourse, and do so in such a way that is sensitive enough to deploy appropriate pragmatics in order to frame the message for the receiver.

If the goal is making a sandwich, there objects to manipulate, something to do. When the thing to do is manipulate language, it reverses the situation that the grafted child has regularly encountered outside of school settings. For sandwich example, there is the knife, the bread, the peanut butter, and action routines that use those objects. In school, learning literacy, “vocabulary” are decontextualized, and the goal becomes learning the words/language bits, and not making the sandwich.

In contrast, learning the language while doing the task, risks conflating the acquired ability of making a sandwich with the talk that accompanies it. From a literacy learning perspective, acquiring literacy requires the learner to develop metacognitive knowledge about literacy: to talk about the acts of reading and writing. Metacognitive knowledge necessitates decontextualized understanding of literacy, awareness that literacy and language are happening while making the sandwich. The mentor steps out of modeling the doing in order to say “The word is peanut butter. You can see it has two parts, one for peanut and one for butter.” > “Peanut has two sound bits, pea- and nut.” > “Peanut starts with /p/.” > “/p/ is written with the letter p.” And of course each of these instructional choices has specific vocabulary that can be used to label a completed process (viz. compound word, syllable, phoneme/sound, and letter, respectively. It is a whole to part scaffolding that ends up at letter-level knowledge and skill. Thus, letters and sounds, phonemes and phonological awareness are available for up take “all at once,” in context, and at the decision of the scaffolder/mentor/teacher. It is the job of the more knowledgeable expert to know what level of linguistic investigation may lead the reader to productive work that results in keener knowledge about language and literacy processes.

For whole groups, these processes may be modeled through think-alouds, but in order to repair malfunctioning literacy learners, the intervention to get them back on track must be delivered one-to-one. In a first-grade literacy intervention project, based on Clay’s Reading Recovery, Dr. Susan Homan and I were able to stretch the teachers’ intervention delivery to a small group of maximum size three. In effect, the trained teachers were able to deliver and mediate three simultaneous, parallel lessons to three different, but closely matched (in literacy needs) struggling first graders. The lessons had some overlap in that two of the first graders might buddy read while the teacher collected a Running Record on the third. It might also necessitate that one of the children began the lesson with a Running Record rather than a warm-up familiar read. Perhaps only one child was a daily focus of the teacher during the writing segment, with the other two using a dry erase board for the target students’ sentence. The point here is that these modifications constituted one of the major modifications to Reading Recovery’s one-to-one tutorial lessons that were created in USF’s Accelerated Literacy Learning (ALL) program (Homan & King, )

But back to the point here, this kind of initial literacy instruction requires the scaffolder to be aware of the level of the level of learners’ sophistication with code, level of inquiry in linguistics, and which as aspect is breaking down for the learner. Here it is apparent to me that my thinking automatically goes to the struggling learner. What can be done to intervene when it isn’t going right? In the US, current responses to this legitimate question are framed in terms of programmatic interventions, and differentiated by the amount of time the learner spends in the program. I think that we need to consider a very different approach to understanding literacy glitches that occur for struggling students.

My first exposure to this arena was in what I call the “clinical moment” in the history of reading (King & Stahl, 2011). Reading teachers were to diagnose what was wrong with disabled readers, and design remediation. [Do you know how many of the words in the preceding sentence require quotes, italics, or some indication that they are vocabulary for professional literacy events (Heath) that are no longer held to be best practices?] The point here is that the reading cultural milieu, replete its own literacy habitus, offered certain kinds of affordances for working with the struggling readers it helped to create. Reading was enamored of the Medical Community’s Scientism, and modeled reading and its work after clinical discourses. That meant that etiology of a reading problem was located on the student, and then fixed. Weiner & Cromer delineated this paradigm in the Harvard Educational Review in the late 1960’s. The first break that I experienced in this happened in the early seventies when I learned about both Language Experience Approach (LEA) (Stauffer, Veatch, van Allen) and Reading Miscue Analysis (RMI) (Goodman & Burke) in a MA in Reading at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. To be sure, I also experienced much medical, clinical training in courses that were (in) appropriately called Reading Diagnosis and Reading Clinic. But changes in the way reading and its instruction were conceptualized were in the wind.

Language Experience Approach disrupted the clinical moment by moving the focus from the disability to the unique experiences, motivations, and desires of the learner. When struggling readers learn from dictating and decoding their own stories about what is important to them, a very different approach to learning literacy processes comes into play. It is again, whole to part. And the direction or path from whole to part is formulated by the teacher with the reader’s unique linguistic competence/performance mapping.

Reading Miscue Analysis was an approach that allowed trained teachers to systematically analyze readers’ deviations from text. But in order to effectively use RMI, teachers must first have internalized a linguistic approach to a cognitive modeling of literacy processes. This is why this approach was labeled a psycholinguistic approach (Weaver). Using the analytic charts that the RMI provided, teachers considered graphophonics, syntax, and semantics, from both paradigmatic and syntagmatic perspectives. In addition to immediate miscue analysis that used the three cueing systems (meaning, syntax, and grapho-phonics) readers were asked to provide a free recall of the passages they read. The recall generated was evaluated by the teacher for its inclusion, relative to the source text, of key propositions. Follow-up probes provided for assisted recall of any missing key content from the passages. A combination of analysis from multiple data sources allowed teachers a linguistic basis for their interventions. In deference and criticism to both of these innovations, I had no idea how to use them diagnostically when I initially “learned” how to work the procedures.

And that leads me to the point about these linguistically-based interventions for struggling readers:  they are complex, multi-factored teaching interventions. They require thoroughly trained teachers with both broad and deep functional knowledge of how linguistics works as a model for understanding literacy work. From my current perspective, re-mediating literacy requires that we rescale literacy as a linguistic detective story to find what part of the system is not working. My understanding here is highly influenced by a year-long sabbatical I took while a faculty member at Texas Woman’s University. The purpose of this sabbatical was to take training to become a Teacher Leader in Reading Recovery. Most Teacher Leaders are salaried school district people who work at the district-level, or building-level. The job that Teacher Leaders are training for is to train and manage the Reading Recovery program at a school district and train Reading Recovery teachers, who will work with struggling first grade readers.  Teacher Leaders each take 18 post-masters graduate course work over the course of the academic year. This I did. But since I was not employed by a school district, I was free to focus on the more theoretical aspects of the training (in contrast with the managerial competencies). 

The training site that I participated in (five days each week at a school and one full day in coursework, and one additional evening of training course observation and apprenticeship), was the first outside of Ohio State University. My trainer was Dr. Billie Askew, who was trained as a Teacher Leader Trainer (one who trains Teacher Leaders), at OSU, and was the first trainer to work off-site from OSU.  We trained in Richardson, Texas with a university graduate course credit affiliation with Texas Woman’s University. The bulk of the year long training for both teachers and trainers of teachers was to view beginning reading from a psycholinguistic perspective. Later, when, with Dr. Susan Homan,  I cloned Reading Recovery in an identical program called Accelerated Literacy Learning (ALL), I also taught teachers and trainers the following information:

Look at reading work of young children as a match/mismatch with the source texts. Conceptualize deviations from the source text (miscues, not mistakes) in terms of :

Cue Systems            Visual information            “looks right”                                     grapho-phonic
Language Structure            “sounds right”                        syntax
Meaning                        “makes sense”                        semantics/context 

In addition to the linguistic cueing systems is the teachers’ awareness that they are trying to create a “self improving system” (Clay) in the young struggling readers. This intent means that teachers work from a scaffolding stance in their support of the readers’ uptake of the linguistic cues available to them (Vygotsky; Wood, Bruner & Ross). Teachers never do for a reader what the reader can do for self. In addition to teaching first graders to know about linguistic cueing systems, teachers also embed strategic approaches to problem solving with text. This is where the self improving system comes into play. First a bit about the strategies and then the linguistic content upon which they are based.

It is safe to say that a fist level of knowledge for the potential reader is the alphabet, let names and their possible sounds. However, it is not necessary that early readers have the alphabet intact before they start learning to read. From a Halliday perspective, all of the parts are available in the immediate task context. It is the choice of focus that instantiates a learning goal.  So while teachers may be modeling and directly teaching letter and sound knowledge, they are doing so within an overlay of strategy modeling and direct instruction. Some of these strategies are:

Early Strategies (Book, Print as objects)
Locating: using fingers to point and frame particular text
Direction: Left to right, top to bottom
Matching: demonstrating one-to-one correspondence between the number of words                        said and the number of words printed
Book handling: book held in an efficient manner, page turning is proficient
Print and pictures carry the message: read pictures visually, read traditional text             graphophonically.

Later Strategies (linguistic analysis of print)
Self-monitoring: using the three cue systems to see if the reading work is going in a             productive way.
Self-Checking: a general use of cueing systems to support ongoing literacy output
Independence: less a strategy than a contextual framing, but important nonetheless,             as it guides teachers’ choices in how to frame an intended instructional point.
Cross-Checking: using at least two cueing systems simultaneously to validate a             reading output.
Self-Correction: a result of appropriate strategy use.

And given that these two sets of content, linguistic cue systems and reading strategies, are taught holistically, within real text-based interaction, it is the teacher who designs literacy and literacy lessons at the point of need for an emerging reader, a reader who (hopefully) changes rather rapidly in how print is managed. Therefore, what teachers choose is conveyed by what they say to the reader. As an already categorized at-risk learner (a somewhat curious label for a first grader), it is important that the teacher chooses productive paths that lead the learner to literacy. Choosing productively means a focus on the linguistic system that is not being deployed by the reader. For example, an overemphasis on visual (graphophonic) information results in reading performance that is plausible given the configuration of the letters (/l ae m b/ for lamb in North American English). Certainly all of the letters are represented by a possible phoneme in English. Yet, the reader might ask “Hmmm, does that sound like a word in English?” or /l a I p/ for lip, same check). A teacher aware of a student’s over use, or singular use, a graphophonic cued strategy would be moved to suggest using an alternative cue system for support. But what is the most productive way to get the student doing this. Only infrequently is telling a student the best way to go. The collection of prompts and situational understanding of prompt deployment of optimum student growth is called “teacher talk.” Teacher talk is a catch all that aligns a cue system (selected by teacher for focus) with a strategy (selected by teacher for focus). Teacher selection is context and situationally specific, not based on a curriculum guide, but drawn from the teachers’ wealth of knowledge about linguistics, language development, emergent literacy, and learning theory. Teachers can use linked cue systems and strategies to:

            Prompt for students specific strategy use (see above) connected to any of the                                    three or more cue systems (see above).
            Reinforce students’ independent use of strategies
            Correct students nonproductive strategy use.

All the while being mindful that creating the student as an independent user of these strategies is the goal. The teacher becomes the embodied literacy curriculum, the mediating linguistic context through which the emerging reader emerges with literate behavior.


OK, back to settling into Cape Town:  I now have a library pass card, on the way to having Internet access. Shopping today (with Richard, and after a night’s sleep) was much less traumatic. Mastin Prinsloo (Prof. at UCT in literacy) was in today getting ready for a conference in Beijing. So I was able to say hello, and let him know I arrived. Tomorrow, I will shift to University of the Western Cape (UWC) and get set up there. Since it rained in the late afternoon, glad we cut short our Cape Town center city trip. Will do that this weekend. I put my hand in the pool out back at out apt. complex. It is NOT heated. This will require some big motivation to start swimming again. May be exclusively running for exercise for some time. Our cabbie last night from the airport said that Spring begins at the end of August. So it should start warming up soon. R’s foot swelled up last night and it was difficult for him to put pressure on it. But today it was ok, maybe something stemming from flight swelling.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

A long policy paper on South African Languages and Literacies (Draft)



Early Literacy and Official Languages:  Training Teachers in Mother-tongue Education in Post-apartheid South Africa.

In 1994, with the victory of the African National Congress (ANC), Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as the first president of the Republic of South Africa. The country ratified a new constitution that stipulated 11 official languages.  Since the 1994 independence, South Africa has had a single Department of Education, which has enacted a series of laws and policies that legislate learners’ rights regarding instruction (with)in language and literacy.  The purpose of this policy paper is to synthesize the available research on the implementation of language policies and literacy education in post-apartheid South Africa with a goal of understanding how national language and literacy policy in a multi-lingual society manifest.

South Africa’s Linguistic History and Background

Prior to colonialization, the region of the African continent that is now South Africa was (and is) populated by several, separate, indigenous African culture groups, each with a separate, though often mutually comprehensible, languages. These were oral languages. In the mid-seventeenth century the region was colonized by Dutch immigrants. Dutch rule continued from mid-seventeenth until the late nineteenth century, when the impact of British immigrants and interests (beginning in the late eighteenth century) began to make a presence in the region. The increasing tensions between the British and former Dutch South Africans eventually lead to the Anglo-Boer Wars. A negotiated settlement resulted in the Union of South Africa with two official languages, Dutch and English. In 1925, Afrikaans replaced Dutch as an official language. The 1948 elections brought the National Party to power and introduced formal apartheid to the country. Apartheid was defined along territorial and linguistic lines. In this vein, bilingual education (e.g., Afrikaans with tribal language) was actively discouraged. Mother-tongue-education (i.e., initial instruction in home talk) was extended to eighth grade (Heugh, 2007), with the effect of infantilizing native education. The requirement for African citizens to be educated in tribal language through the eighth grade, perceived by heritage Africans as an unproductive and hegemonic imposition, is credited as the major cause for a rebellion of Black Consciousness Movement in Soweto in 1976. The “Soweto Riots” are understood to be a major event in the developments that lead to a democratic, post-apartheid South Africa. Prior to the “new” post-apartheid South Africa, the 1979 (pre-democratic) government was forced to change its language-in-education policy, reducing mother-tongue-education requirements to four years instead of the previous eight. More importantly, students were then allowed to transition to a choice between Afrikaans or English in their advanced years of education (Heugh, 2004; du Plessis, 2003 note go to Ransool refs.). These changes in language-in-education policy reveal the pervasive effects of official language policy in the historical development of South African values and beliefs regarding language and literacy.
Official Languages and Linguistic Desire
The southern tip of Africa is home to a great variety of cultural and linguistic groups. Prior to western colonialization, the region was typified by a rich linguistic diversity. Buekes (2004) reports that the original inhabitants were the Khoe and San peoples (also referred to as Khoesan by Mesthrie [2008]). Later, the Bantu tribes settled in the region. Then, beginning in the Seventeenth Century, European settlers began living in the Southern Cape area, followed by English settlers in the following century.  See Mesthrie (2008) for a more detailed description of the development of South African linguistic groups. Today, more than twenty-five languages are regularly spoken in South Africa (Beukes, 2004), with about 80% of the population speaking one of the African languages in their homes. Thirteen percent of South Africans use Afrikaans as a home language. Afrikaans is a local, African language derived from a creole of Dutch and African languages, which was then pidginized, and ultimately legitimated as an independent language. A total of 8% of South African speak English (Statistics South Africa, 2003). The Constitution of the “new’ South Africa stipulates eleven official languages.  Of these, two (Afrikaans and English) are non-African languages.  The other nine languages are African (IsiNdebele-1.6%; IsiXhosa-17.6%; IsiZulu-23.6%; Sepedi-9.4%; Sesotho-7.9%; Setswana-8.2%; SiSwati-2.7%; Tshivenda-2.3%; Xitsonga-4.4) where percentages equal proportion of speakers in the total population. It is clear that the modal language is IsiZulu, but frequency does not indicate the relative influence and situated power held by the 11 different “official” languages.
            The text of the Constitution that attends to language policy follows:

6. (1) The languages of the Republic are Sepedi, Sesotho, Setswana, siSwati, Tshivenda, Xitsonga, Afrikaans, English, isiNdebele, isiXhosa and isiZulu.
(2) Recognising the historically diminished use and status of the indigenous language of our people, the state must take practical and positive measures to elevate the status and advance the use of these languages.
(3) National and provincial governments may use particular official languages for the purposes of government, taking into account usage, practicality, expense, regional circumstances, and the balance of the needs and preferences of the population as a whole or in respective provinces, provided that no national or provincial government may use only one official language. Municipalities must take into consideration the language use and preferences of their residents.
(4)  National and provincial governments, by legislative and other measures, must regulate and monitor the use of those governments of official languages. Without detracting from the provisions of subsection (2), all official languages must enjoy parity of esteem and must be treated equitably.
(5) The Pan South African Language Board must –
            (a) promote and create conditions for the development and use of
                        (i) all official languages
                        (ii) the Khoi, Nama, and San languages; and
                        (iii) sign language
            (b) promote and ensure respect for languages, including German, Greek,
Gujarati, Hindi, Portuguese, Tamil, Telugu, Urdu, and others commonly used by communities in South Africa, and Arabic, Hebrew, Sanskrit, and others for  religious purposes.

Even the most cursory look at the policy must admire its comprehensiveness and the obvious focus on inclusion and respect for linguistic diversity. However, after nearly two decades since the Constitution of 1994, the success of this bold linguistic experiment remains mixed. In fact, Webb (2002) and du Plessis (2006) both argue that the language provisions in the Constitution are more of a mission statement than a policy. In contrast, the Language Task Group (LANTAG, 1996) formalized the language of the Constitution regarding language planning and made recommendations to the Minister of Arts, Culture, Science and Technology for language planning. Similarly, the Pan South African Languages Board (PANSALB) is a permanent body charged with being the “watch dog” for linguistics rights of the citizens (Mesthrie, 2008). Government is expected to publish in all 11 languages, and in no case fewer than six of them (designated as Tsonga, Venda, Afrikaans, English, a Nguni language and a Sotho language). For a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the apartheid associations with Afrikaans, English has emerged as a lingua franca, “at the expense of other languages” (Mesthire, 2008, p. 329).  English currently dominates in parliament, higher education, local government, police, defense forces and the courts.
According to the Implementation Plan (DAC, 2003b), “the costs of implementing the proposed policy by government departments were sustainable and could be accommodated with minor adjustments to planned potions.” (Beukes, 2004, p. 12) The impact of implementation was estimated at less than 1% over 10 years (Emzantsi Associates, 2001). However, such estimates have not assuaged critics who argue that implementation has been less than anticipated (Moodley, 2000; Kamwangamalu, 2000; Alexander, 2000 & 2002; Heugh, 2003; and Brand, 2004). According to Beukes (2004), who cites Alexander (2000 & 2002) “the promise of ‘liberation’ through English has not materialized” but has “remained ‘unattainable’ for the majority of South Africans and has instead become part of the ‘cultural capital’ of the cultural elite” (p. 17, single quotes replicate Bueke’s use of Alexander).
In 2003, fully nine years into post-apartheid government, the National Language Policy Framework (NLPF) was approved. Among other objectives, the NLPF is to: 1.) promote equitable use of the 11 languages, 2.) assure access to government, 3.) redress past inequities for marginalized languages, 4.) promote multilingualism, 5.) encourage language learning, 6.) promote good language management (DAC 2003, 13).
Yet the reality of the multilingual experiments is captured in the following quote:

The work of our government is conducted virtually entirely in English and the language of our culturally diverse Parliament is almost exclusively English. Many senior politicians stay away from African languages on the radio stations, presumably because they perceive those audiences as not sophisticated enough … Universities are battling to keep African language departments open as student numbers dwindle, … book publishing in indigenous languages is on its deathbed, and …  the use of these languages among native speakers is becoming unfashionable. (Sunday Times, 25 April,     2004, italics mine).

The implied devaluing for Africans who speak African languages is present. And according to Beuke (2004), the South African language policies
“ha[ve] resulted in a retrogressive situation which, notwithstanding the admirable aims of the NLPF, has delivered the following outcomes in the first decade of democracy:
(a) Language domination with no delivery in respect of language equality for the indigenous languages.
(b) Inequality of opportunity as regards access to government services, knowledge and information.
(c)  The marginalisation of the indigenous languages and (arguably also increasing marginalization of Afrikaans)” (pp. 14-15)
Language in use and languages as content within schools
Implementation of the Constitution’s language policy within the field of education is not without its own complexity and contention. Frequently referred to as Language-in-education policy, the implementation has generated many responses and perspectives. First a look at the exact policy. The Language in Education Policy Act (Act 27 of 1996) directs the Minister of Education to determine and maintain a national policy for language in education. The Language-in-education policy was adopted in 1997. According to SAlanguages.com, a service of the Department of Education, the language-in-education policy operates within a framework of:

1.     In terms of the new Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, the government, and thus the Department of Education, recognizes that our cultural diversity is a valuable national asset and hence is tasked, amongst other things, to promote multilingualism, the development of the official languages, and respect for all languages used in the country, including South African Sign Language and languages referred to in the South African Constitution.
2.     The inherited language-in-education policy in South Africa has been fraught with tensions, contradictions and sensitivities, and underpinned by racial and linguistic discrimination. A number of these discriminatory policies have affected either the access of the learners to the educational system or their success within it.
3.     The new language in education policy is conceived of as in integral and necessary aspect of the new government’s strategy of building a non-racial nation in South Africa. It is meant to facilitate communication across the barriers of colour, language and region. While at the same time creating an environment in which respect for language other than one’s own world be encouraged.
4.     This approach is in line with the fact that both societal and individual multilingualism are the global norm today, especially on the African continent. As such, it assumes that the learning of more than one language should be general practice and principle in our society. That is to say, being multilingual should be a defining characteristic of being South African. It is constructed also to counter any particularistic ethnic chauvinism or separatism through mutual understanding.
5.     A wide spectrum of opinions exists as to the locally viable approaches toward multilingual education, ranging from arguments in favor of cognitive benefits and cost-effectiveness of teaching through one medium (home language) and learning additional language(s) as subjects, to those drawing on comparative international experience demonstrating that, under appropriate conditions, most learners benefit cognitively and emotionally from the type of structured bilingual education found in dual-medium (also known as two-way immersion) programmes. Whichever route is followed, the underlying principle is to maintain home language(s). Hence, the Department’s position that an additive approach to bilingualism is to be seen as the normal orientation of our language-in-education policy. With regard to the delivery system, policy will progressively be guided by the results of comparative research, both locally and internationally.
6.     The right to choose the language of learning and teaching is vested in the individual. This right has, however, to be exercised within the overall framework of the obligation on the educational system to promote multilingualism.

The immediate implications of this policy statement are that the parents have the right of language choice for their children. They must, in fact, choose their particular language of instruction upon school entry. If the chosen language is not immediately available, parents may request it from the provincial educational authority. Likewise, schools are tasked with proactively stipulating how their particular agency will promote multilingualism. In early grades, students are guaranteed instruction in their local language. From grade 3 onward, all students will also received instruction in a second language as well as study the language in which they are being taught. Failing a required language (language of instruction) results in failing the grade.
Reliance on African languages as media for instruction is not without issues. During the time of the Bantu Education Act, African languages were used for instruction for the first six years of schooling. Yet, the linguistic resources created for this forced use of African languages as language of instruction fell into disuse with the scaling back of the Bantu Education Act, and no doubt in part because of the hegemonic rationale for their use at the time. At this point, in the “renewed” call for African heritage languages as language of instruction, Wildsmith-Cromarty (2009) notes that updating of both terminology and orthography is needed. And when those terms, new to the native discourses, are introduced to teachers who have not previously used them, the teachers struggle to communicate with their students even in home talk. This is the reverse of Wildsmith-Cromarty’s findings for formal presentation of content in English, with follow up clarification in home talk.
            In apparent contrast to the linguistic egalitarianism of the Language-in-education policy, parents are reported as demanding that even their young children be taught in English rather than in their own home language (SAlanguages.com), though this pattern is contested by Heugh (2007). Citing Krashen (1996), Heugh points out that when parents are given an “either/or” choice, they are likely to choose the language with the higher prestige. When a bilingual option is presented, the parents will likely choose this alternative. Nevertheless, there exist several possible reasons for parents’ English preference. Parents may believe that their children’s future economic success depends on facility with English. They may also believe that the immediate job market and global economic positioning are leveraged toward competence with English. It is also true that parents know that studies cannot be completed in tertiary education in African languages. English or Afrikaans is required. African languages are associated with injustices and unequal resourcing in the past. Finally parents may perceive that schools do not possess the resources, and disciplines of inquiry may not be translated into traditional African languages.
            To understand the apparent contradiction in parents’ choices, it is productive to revisit education policies during the National Party’s period of apartheid.  First of all, from this previous perspective, Afrikaans is viewed by African heritage parents “as a language of vertical control and political exclusion” (Heugh, 2007).  In Afrikaner moves to preserve Afrikaans for Afrikaners, speakers of African languages and speakers of English were effectively excluded from power, linguistic and otherwise.  Therefore Afrikaans has significant baggage for African-heritage South Africans, and will likely not be chosen as a language for instruction, even at the present time. Secondly, the Bantu Education Act of 1955 proposed that education for Africans be provided in “mother-tongue” and that this provision be extended into upper grades. Elsewhere in this paper, mother-tongue instruction is supported as an appropriate medium for initial school learning, for literacy as well as for other subjects. But the rationale behind the Bantu Education Act was interpreted critically (Probyn, 2005) as a means to keep Africans from power by restricting their access to Afrikaans.  Therefore, parents who remember or have heard about the Bantu language scandal, might prefer English to home talk, and certainly not Afrikaans even in the initial years of their children’s education, so as not to be “duped” by what they may perceive as linguistic paternalism.
            So parents’ African parents’ understandings about language preferences, languages of instruction and language policy may be at odds with the intentions of government policies. Another area of difference that may also impact the literacy teaching the children receive may be located in the differing sets of beliefs about the very children shared between government and parents. Many of South Africa’s educational and government elite are schooled in western intellectual traditions which may inculcate very different notions of childhood, children and learning.
Children and their Development Across Cultures
            Recommendations for early and emergent literacy have much to do with how the one recommending understands youngsters, how they learn, and how they are understood to “develop.”  Development itself is an assumption that may or may not transfer across cultural borders. In claiming the potential for difference between western notions of child development and African-heritage notions of children and how they exist in the world, it is not necessary to invoke “exoticism of the dark continent” (Brock-Utne, 2005) Rather, it is appropriate to consider the transferability of assumptions that permeate western philosophies about childhood. Kincaid (1998) points out the alarming ways adults construct childhoods for what are revealed to be problematic motives. In as much as children are not agents in the policies we construct about (for) them, it is therefore imperative to examine child development from a cross-cultural perspective.
            Arguing for the importance of African perspective on child development, Super, Harkness, Barry and Zeitlin (2011, p. 119) write “Because the environments for children’s development are culturally structured, local knowledge is necessary to understand development and to devise social program to promote healthy outcomes”. Like the construct of local literacy, ideas of “local child” (in contrast to the “universal child”) are paramount. The authors point out cross-cultural differences in understandings and practices in motor development, cognitive growth, attachment, and “socially responsible intelligence.” This final factor points to the importance of what the authors label an “eco-developmental niche.” Interestingly, the authors for this particular call to respect local knowledge on child development are all non-African researchers and scholars. In contrast, Serpell (2011), a researcher at the University of Zambia, also writes about the uniqueness of African children’s adept social responsibility, recommends it as an educational goal, and advocates for additional research on socially responsible intelligence.  According to Marfo (2011), outside-in advocacy (such as Super, et al) is the result of many factors. First of all, research by native scholars is, at present, limited. Secondly, most current native scholars are frequently educated at European and American universities, and return with western philosophies about childhood and literacy.  Third, the development of indigenous psychologies and literacies faces the immediate task of establishing legitimacy. Such questioning does not necessarily invalidate westernized versions of African child development or literacies. But the interrogation is critically important for a representative understanding of literacy development in African heritage contexts. Is an “African psychology” a part of global psychologies (now largely western), or is it to an exotic species, ignored by others.  Similarly, are African literacy practices inclusive of local literacies (as promised by the Constitution), resulting in Africanist literacies as part of globalized notions of what world literacy might mean, or is Africanized literacy a quaint, exotic, localized phenomenon, easily ignored for its “irrelevance.” It is the second scenario that is currently embracing the use of English as a lingua franca, dismissing Afrikaans as the language of the former oppressor, speaking and using native African languages at home, and then using African languages as a bridge to English in the schools. According to Serpel (2011), rural schools in Africa derive their effectiveness from local accountability. In contrast, design and management of these schools may be based on an academic account of children’s development, and what counts as intelligence. Consequently, accounts of what is taken to be literacy must be mindful of the internal diversity of literate practices, the source of the thinking of indigenous scholars, the depiction of both “childhood” and “literacy” as they are represented in policy documents.

Language use patterns in schools
Despite the reported parental preference for English, “most schools use an African language as the medium of instruction for the first 3 years only, after which English becomes the official language of instruction” (Wildsmith-Cromarty, 2009, p. 37). The general arrangement of mother-tongue (home talk) instruction through the third year of schooling has been labeled “additive bilingualism.”As a transition language to the “real linguistics of learning,” African languages are positioned in less important roles, compared to English, and to a lesser extent Afrikaans. Further complicating the use of African languages for instruction is their reported lack of vocabulary for use with scientific and mathematical concepts (Wildsmith-Cromarty, 2009, p. 38). These linguistic characteristics create an instructional mix that is differentiated by school type: rural, urban, and suburban.
In rural schools, English is used for the presentation of information in a formal instructional approach. Understanding the formal presentation is mediated by home language, which is also used for management and all other communication. Since English is used in a transmissive way, there is little opportunity for students to practice with, or otherwise learn, English. Further complicating the situation is the rural teachers’ lack of English/home language translation capability so that complex concepts may suffer in the teachers’ attempts at translation. Finally, English is only used in this one context. It is not part of the out-of-school culture.
            In urban schools, home language is also used, but since these urban areas are comprised of speakers from several African languages, the use of “home talk” is in fact a multilingual effort. Yet, there is also greater exposure to English in outside-of-school contexts. Similar to the rural strategy, there is code-switching to one of the African languages to explain the material that has just been presented in English, leading to multiple code-switching inside a given classroom. But mixed code is not the same as home talk.  And students do not necessarily experience explanatory language in a form that they can readily understand.
            In suburban-urban schools, pupils also come from linguistically diverse backgrounds, which now include European, Asian, and African languages. Students do not necessarily share a common home language. Likewise teachers do not necessarily share the language of their students. Wildsmith-Cromarty reports that these teachers may be English or Afrikaans speaking, depending on the particular school, with little or no knowledge of African languages. English (or Afrikaans) is the language of instruction. Code-switching, when it does occur, is between pupils who translate within like language groups. Here there is adequate exposure to English both in and out of school. What may be missing here is engagement with African languages.
            Patterns that emerge, based on the above description, are that English is the medium of instruction, presentation and knowledge. Therefore, African languages are secondary in schools. Yet, school populations are increasingly African-language speakers. This suggests that African languages need to be developed as languages of instruction. But Brock-Utne (2005) takes a much more critical look at the patterns of language use in schools. First, there may not be such a linguistic diversity in traditional African languages. Many of the different African “languages” are in fact often mutually intelligible, as if they were dialects of the same language, or as the following example suggests, the same language. One example is cited where a single language is given the status of two because both Finnish and German missionaries independently charted its orthography. This example suggests that the reported linguistic “difference” may largely in the minds of linguists who differentially documented languages they did not know. Regarding the inadequacy of native language to account of scientific concepts, Brock-Utne makes a differing argument for education in Tanzania. Since the English language capability of teachers is often limited, the presentation and explanation of science constructs is compromised even when it is presented in English.  In effect, the students learn “bad English” and “bad science.”  Better, according Brock-Utne, to teach academic content, like science, in the language the students and teachers understand and use, and simultaneously teach English as a subject.
            In a final consideration of the paradox that occurs between mother-tongue educational provisions within the Constitution and parents’ choice for exclusive instruction in English is the more recent research on literacy by British critical socio-linguists, such as Barton and Hamilton (1998) and Street (2001), as well as South African researchers (Prinsloo & Breier, 1996). In this line of research, participants’ informal, non-academic uses of language and literacy are documented and described. In so doing, the researchers re-construct the legitimacy and credence for these local literacies.  It is interesting that the various authors in the Prinsloo and Breier (1996) volume are researching the “local literacies” of various marginalized constituencies of the Western Cape, when these same participants may be advocating for their children’s rights to be educated exclusively in English from their first day in school.
            A related issue is the relative status of the constituent language and the ability of each of the languages to carry out the cognitive modeling required by the academic subjects.  For example if a culture and the language that represents it do not conceive of atoms and subatomic particles, it is unlikely that the language will have specific terminology for these concepts. Further, if a culture is not accustomed to thinking in constituative ways, adding a term for p-bonding of electrons may not create the knowledge required within chemistry. At the other end of the educational spectrum, it is clear that at this point, there is lack of books for children written in mother tongue (Edwards, 2008). Literacy education in mother tongue relies on a large cache of literature, that is, if the literacy is to be functional (in contrast to prescriptive, skill-based approaches).
            In the movement to raise the complexity and status of indigenous African languages, the South African language theorists cite the example of Afrikaans ascending from a patois to a modern, technical language within South Africa. However, it should be pointed out that Afrikaans had full government support for Afrikaans as the language of the government. As Granville, et al (1997) point out
            After 1976, [Afrikaans] remained compulsory for white education. What this meant is that students has to pass Afrikaans in order to matriculate. As a result the prominence of Afrikaans in the school curriculum, the necessary resources, both human and material, were provided to ensure the success of the policy … what the story of Afrikaans teaches us is that a compulsory policy of teaching a language-as-subject for twelve years of schooling, even to students who are resistant to the compulsion, produces adequate levels of bilingual competence. (pp. 11-12)
The Granville, et al (1997) study group made recommendations that 1.) students have rights of access to the language of power (English); 2.) all students must learn at least 1 African language as subject; 3.) Current teachers should learn an African language; 4.) newly qualifying teachers must have an African language endorsement for certification; 5.) students have the right to choose any of the 11 official languages as language of learning and teaching (subject transmission language).
Teachers’ linguistic competence and performance
            The Granville group also recommends similar changes to accommodate linguistic diversity in the preparation of teachers. An estimate cited by Heugh (2007) suggests that only 5% of rural teachers have the needed English language skills. A study by Crouch and Lewin (2000) concludes that teacher education in South Africa is both costly and inefficient.  Regarding its effectiveness, Crouch and Lewin report that teachers are under qualified; unable to use English effectively to speak, let alone teach through it; do not have expertise to teach English as a subject area; and current scale-up retraining in-service teachers is inadequate. Compounding the problem of teacher flexibility with languages is the issue of student mobility and teacher stasis. According to Macfarland (2003) the formerly segregated schools for whites and coloured students are trending toward racial mixing, with learners from a variety of linguistic backgrounds.  Yet, the teachers for these schools have remained largely unchanged. This means there is a propensity for a mismatch between the new students and the existing teachers. The majority of South African students (80%) in the rural and township schools, previously reserved for African learners, also remain unchanged (Probyn, 2005). Writing about similar circumstances in Tanzania, Brock-Utne (2005) summarizes the situation for teachers like this:
            The situation that African teachers are forced into is tragic. Their own limited command of the language of instruction, plus great difficulties their students have in understanding what their teacher is saying when s/he expresses him or herself in the ex-colonial language, force them to use             teaching strategies I have here characterized as safe-talk, code-mixing and code-switching. This gives the teachers a bad conscience since they know that they are not supposed to code-switch or code-mix but to use the ex-colonial language throughout the lesson. They also know that on examination day students who code-switch will be punished. (pp. 189-190)

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du Plessis

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