I’m old enough to remember when an exercise class built around stationary bikes was revolutionary. The first time I attended such a class, it was called Spin. In a darkened room, we rode along to loud music as an enthusiastic instructor took us through a workout.
About 15 years later, a new gym, a new class: The Ride. It was still in a darkened room with stationary bikes, loud music, and an enthusiastic instructor. Another year later, I changed gyms again and attended a new class: Cycle. I’m sure by now, you get the point.
What does this have to do with educating children? It mirrors what I’ve seen happen with every new literacy program based on the Orton-Gillingham approach, an instructional method developed in the 1930s. To make a program feel unique, companies feel the need to add their own spin. But unlike an exercise class, which gets your heart pumping no matter what it’s called, this linguistic revolving door creates real problems in literacy instruction.
As an Orton-Gillingham-certified instructor, I support the methodology, which calls for an explicit, systematic, cumulative, direct, and sequential approach to reading instruction that emphasizes multisensory strategies. Its direct sequential nature combined with multisensory techniques can be especially effective for students who struggle with reading.
However, the recent proliferation of new programs designed to meet demand for “science of reading” is causing confusion for the students these programs were designed to help—and often for their teachers and parents. When reviewing programs based on the Orton-Gillingham approach in my role as a reading interventionist, I often find similar methodology with various tweaks in terminology. Seemingly simple changes in vocabulary can make it difficult for teachers to master content and deliver quality instruction.
Take, for example, the rule of doubling the letters f, l, s, and z when they come after a short vowel in a one-syllable word, such as “stuff”—this is essentially a spelling rule and nothing more. Most children, even those with phonological processing or decoding deficits, can read these words when presented.
Just as a cycling class at the gym goes by different names, this rule has different names depending on the literacy program. I’ve witnessed it being called fszl, floss, bonus letter, 1-1-1, or short-vowel protector. I’ve even seen cute acrostics along the lines of “Sally likes finding zigzags.” These can all be wonderful mnemonics for assisting students in memorizing the generalization, but, at the end of the day, wouldn’t it be easier if we were all speaking the same language?
What are we doing? In an effort to help our struggling readers, we have multiple programs doing the same thing in different words. Then we wonder why something doesn’t work as we switch over to a new, but similar, program.
Unfortunately, I don’t expect all the publishing houses that produce reading curriculum to agree on a standard set of terms any time soon, but that doesn’t mean we should leave teachers to fend for themselves. Instead of chasing the next new programs, we need to put our educational faith in our teachers. Teachers deserve professional development that explains the content behind that cute, little mnemonic so true understanding is taking place.
When district leaders replace their literacy program, they need to produce a clear transition plan that trains teachers to understand the differences and communicate the new language to their learners. If we teach teachers about the structure that underlies these literacy strategies, then they will be able to confidently deliver the content even when the terminology shifts.
When looking at phonics programs designed around the Orton-Gillingham methodology, start by inspecting the scope and sequence and the format of a lesson. The format should be similar to what Anna Gillingham and Bessie Stillman created in The Gillingham Manual. This manual was originally created to specifically teach students with learning disabilities, something we often forget when expanding the approach to all students in our zeal to embrace the science of reading.
I am not condemning or condoning any plan. Rather, I am advocating we focus on educating our teachers on the structure of language. This, in turn, will better prepare them to work with the many phonics initiatives that come their way. When educators’ primary connection to instruction is through a required program rather than practical professional development, they aren’t equipped to help struggling readers navigate a new set of mnemonic devices.
What’s in a name? Spin by any other name will still be an exercise class, but fszl, floss, and bonus letters can all cause puzzlement.
