The Mysteries of Language Arts

True confessions: I bought my 4 year old a “language arts” curriculum for next year. What was I thinking? I was bamboozled by a conglomeration of influences. First there was that post card from his pediatrician asking me to make an appointment for his “Kindergarten checkup.” Kindergarten? My baby? Should I be thinking about Kindergarten?

Then there were all those homeschooling catalogs, the regular spring barrage of tempting new offerings promising so much. And, perhaps most subtle of all, there were all those questions from new homeschoolers on the forums I frequent: What level Language Arts should I choose? What if my child reads at a 2^nd grade level but writes like a Kindergartener? How can I teach language arts without workbooks? What if I forget to teach about prefixes and suffixes? What will my child be able to read after he finishes Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons?

 I answer a lot of them. I try to reassure, to suggest that these issues are not really worth a lot of stress and anxiety, but even as I address question after question I realize I’ve gradually begun to buy into the myth that there are mysteries to Language Arts that only the qualified experts can begin to understand and impart. So I bought my 4 year old a Language Arts curriculum.

What is “language arts” anyway? I remember the phrase from my middle school years, when we stopped having “reading” class and had “language arts” instead. I remember a certain relief when I reached high school and got to take “English” instead. It sounded more grown up, I guess. I assume the idea behind “language arts” is to lump together all kinds of language skills—reading, writing, public speaking, spelling, grammar, punctuation, usage—under one handy umbrella phrase. I suppose that’s not a bad idea, but it grates nonetheless. Why can’t we just talk about how children learn to read and to express themselves in speech and writing? It sounds a little less mysterious to me that way, even if it does take longer to say.

The truth is that almost every child whom we might deem ready for “language arts”—even my 4 year old—is highly skilled already in the art of self-expression by means of language. A child the age of my son is adding thousands  of words to his vocabulary every week. He can tell me a story, relate a dream, wear me down with questions, batter me with logical argument, all without ever having a language arts lesson. I didn’t teach him this, at least not in the conventional, schoolish sense. I encouraged and supported and modeled, but there were no lessons in persuading a parent to allow additional cookies after lunch (Rhetoric for  Preschoolers) or staging elaborate games  of make-believe based on the Star Wars movies (Beginning Drama). These amazing feats spring from the heart and mind of my child, as if unbidden, and certainly untaught.

All parents recognize this innate ability, if they stop to think about it. We’re not all convinced, however, that more isn’t somehow needed when this prodigious user of language reaches school age. What about reading? What about writing? What about spelling and grammar and syllabication and prefixes and suffixes and all that stuff we had in school? Won’t my child need to be taught all that?  What if I miss something?

What if, indeed? I have watched two of my children learn to read. As with their spoken language, I was supportive and aware and encouraging. With one child, I did very little “teaching.” With the other, I did more, but I still did not use a formal phonics or learning to read curriculum, and I’m not convinced that the teaching I did was all that important in the long run. They were surrounded by print; we read aloud to them; they saw us reading; they learned to read when they were ready. They never needed a language arts curriculum; they needed books and interested adults to support their efforts.

Once they’re reading, then what? If they aren’t interested in easy reader books, should I make them read them lest they miss something? If The Cat in the Hat is boring, must they read it? What if she doesn’t like her “reader”? What curriculum should I use to teach reading comprehension? How will he ever progress beyond early readers without a reading curriculum? Those are the questions I hear and read. I think the answers, in every case, are simple: provide interesting books at an enjoyable reading level, and don’t stop reading aloud to the reading child. Reading is best learned by reading, not by talking about reading, and comprehension is built by reading and listening, not by being quizzed. If you use a curriculum to help your child learn to read, once she is reading, get to the library and set her free to choose books she’ll enjoy. And keep reading to her, choosing books for reading aloud that are too hard for her to read yet, thereby building her vocabulary and listening skills and her ear for language.

Must they be taught to write? Must they learn the parts of speech? Must they study spelling? Eventually, maybe. My oldest has never been “taught” to write; she writes naturally and easily when she has something to say and struggles mightily when she’s expected to write on a topic that holds no interest for her. She has a well-developed ear for language, thanks to an innate gift for language coupled with years of listening to good books read aloud and years of reading good books. I’ll spend some time in the next year or so teaching her some formal grammar, but she’s 12, not 6 or 8, and she may not visit grammar again in a formal way for the rest of her life.

Spelling becomes important when the child wants to communicate in writing. When my 8 year old son began sending e-mail and instant messages to his pal in the next town, spelling became a bigger priority. With attention, his spelling is improving. But there seemed little point in teaching him to spell before it was a useful skill to him.

There are no mysteries to language arts that a literate adult is not privy to. We cannot damage a 5 or 6 or 7 year old by failing to introduce some arcane language terminology or skill. We can do damage by stressing over minutiae like alphabetizing or syllabication or memorizing spelling rules when these skills have no relevance to our children’s actual needs or interests. We damage ourselves by setting up unrealistic expectations and creating unnecessary anxiety for ourselves. We may damage our children if, in our zeal to be thorough, we ask too much of our children or bore them with unnecessary busy work. Better  by far to draw our children in to the wonders of our native tongue by means of stories and poems, songs and word play, Mad Libs and Twenty Questions than that we drive them away by means of worksheets and sentence diagrams and spelling tests.

What will I do with that Kindergarten language arts curriculum? I’ll do what I recommend anyone does with any curriculum: use what makes sense and is fun, skip the rest. If my 4 year old wants to make a page about the letter K, we’ll do that. If he wants to join me in memorizing a little poem, we’ll do that. If, on the other hand, he’s happier racing around playing Star Wars, I’ll count that as Language Arts in my mind and let him go at it. I’m confident that he’ll continue to build on his amazing language skills throughout his life, with or without a curriculum.