The Great Primary Plateau!

Now, here's a scenario you will likely relate to if you've been around for a while: You arrive at school bright and early, grab a coffee, seat yourself down and begin the ritual of checking through the dozen or so emails that have arrived in your in-box since last leaving for home. Today, among the meeting reminders, staff football notes etc., you find an introduction to a student who will shortly join your class. Well....., that's fine. You have the space, spare desk, chairs etc. You read on. The student apparently has no English to speak of. Again, nothing alarming, but you now need to do some thinking. You've taken on such students before but perhaps feel a little uneasy. How will the child fit into a class of almost native like speaking peers -children who have attended the school for years and studied English on a daily basis? You foresee difficulties, but nothing unmanageable. After some fretting and a wistful 'If only they had put him next door!', you schedule a meeting with the EAL coordinator to arrange support. In due course the student starts receiving extra English lessons and, sure enough, a week or two later has begun uttering his first English words followed shortly by phrases and sentences. Fast forward six months and the academic year is drawing to a close. To everyone's surprise, the child has become a good communicator -so much so that you marvel at how he managed to progress so spectacularly. Your colleagues stop you in the corridor to congratulate you on a job well done. Perhaps you're even toying with the notion of withdrawing EAL support altogether.

I have seen this play out many, many, times in different schools with children from various L1 backgrounds and throughout the primary year groups. Secondary teachers have similar stories to tell, no doubt. You probably have such anecdotes of your own.

Now, let me fill you in about a particular student who I recall and who stands out as a classic example of just one such 'high flier.' I'll call him simply 'A,' a child I had the pleasure of teaching at an international school many years ago in Bangkok, Thailand. 'A' joined my year three class, mid year (something of an ill-omen) at a point when his Thai classmates could write and speak English at something approaching native speaker standard. A's parents did not speak English themselves, and his previous education had taken place exclusively at Thai schools where Thai served as the language of instruction. As a new student, dropped into an unfamiliar English language speaking environment, we appreciated that 'A' faced daunting challenges. He would need to master the L2, but also 'settle in,' make friends among his peers, and adjust to a new school ethos and culture. That he didn't know any of his classmates outside of school wouldn't make life any easier. And yet despite all this, and to everyone's surprise, 'A' became a capable communicator by the end of the academic year. He still experienced moments when he misunderstood instructions or felt lost during discussions but, then again, so too did many of his classmates. A's English lagged behind his peers but he could express ideas, albeit falteringly, contribute to discussions, and hold his own when explaining ideas or presenting opinions. An extroverted personality helped his learning, no doubt. 'A' was not a child who would hide quietly in the corner and let others do the talking. He made friends quickly and by year's end had become a popular member of the Year 3 community.

We all enjoy such uplifting stories and yet this one does not, alas, have a happy ending. Having moved into Year 4 'A' continued to receive EAL support; and throughout year 5, too; and again in Year 6. That's four years of EAL tuition! As teachers we had to face the fact that the impressive progress of Year 3 had ground to a shuddering halt. Just why, was anyone's guess. Perhaps the reason lay in some sort of personal trauma (though I wasn't aware of any) or maybe something was going on socially among himself and classmates that I hadn't picked up on. Looking back, however, I believe the cause lay in something else altogether. I call this 'something' the 'Great Primary Plateau.' Over the years, I have come to believe it's time we in international and bilingual schools began to give it some serious attention.

What is the Great Primary Plateau?

So, what is the great primary plateau? Essentially it is a rapid falling off of the rate of English language progress that starts at a very specific point in a child's path to language mastery: that point at which a student can communicate his her needs effectively in the target language. What do I mean by effectively? By 'effectively' I mean simply that the student proves capable of using language for the very purpose that language evolved among us initially -to convey instructions, express ideas, pass messages from one to another and generally convert thoughts into intelligible sounds that others can understand. I do not mean by effectively that the child employs the correct grammar, pronunciation or that his or her choice of structure necessarily tallies with the social context in which communication occurs.

The point I want to make is this: Over and over again I have seen the same scenario play out in which a student improves in English to a point where s/he scores highly in communicative competence but low in accuracy only to display a distressingly (from the teacher's viewpoint) shallow rate of progress thereafter. Moreover, it is at that particular point of having reached communicative competence that the rate of progress begins to plateau. I haven't observed this plateauing in all students. I do believe, however, that we can discern it in a sizeable minority if only we take the time and trouble to look.

So, why do we see this plateauing at all? What is the possible cause? I can't be sure, but I believe it boils down to a simple truth -Once a child discovers that s/he can communicate effectively then the impetus (motivation?) for developing language beyond his or her current state falls off. The child, in effect, asks him/herself the obvious questions: Why learn grammatical rules, correct pronunciation or any other aspect of language if I can understand others satisfactorily (in the L2) and express my views to whoever I care to communicate with? It's a 'no brainer' from the student's perspective. Put yourself in the student's shoes. Would you really take on board a teacher's efforts to correct your language if the errors didn't impact upon your communicative competence? Language evolved as a means to understand others and convey our thoughts. But you have reached that level of proficiency already.

It doesn't help that so many of the errors we observe do not really impede communication at all. The malformed "I goed to school last week," gets the message across just fine to native and non-native English listeners alike. So does "I'll open the light," or "I must to see a doctor." Even when the grammar seems grotesquely skewed by native-speaker norms, various contextual clues along with accompanying gestures often clarify the speaker's intended message. It doesn't help either that we teachers innocently tend to reinforce errors when we hear them. We don't mean to, of course. The problem is that we often feel so encouraged to witness a student attempting to communicate in English at all that we feel loathe to supply corrective feedback lest we discourage him or her from speaking up in the future. Unfortunately, our well meaning attitude can lead to serious issues. To illustrate, consider the following short exchange:

Student: Where you go last weekend?

Teacher: I went to Central.

Student: What you do?

Teacher: I saw that new movie about a dragon.

This may all seem innocent and harmless enough but it also nicely illustrates just what we're up against. We need to look at what's really going on here. By responding to the student's questions as s/he does, the teacher inadvertently reinforces the grammatical errors. Innocently, the teacher sends out the message, loud and clear: "I understand exactly what you mean by your question, and here's my answer." And this brings us back to what lies at the heart of the primary plateau issue: Why would the student participating in such an exchange make the effort to learn the correct "Where did you go last weekend?" or "What did you do?" given that the incorrect forms apparently serve just fine? If you count yourself amongst those who feel the teacher ought to have corrected the student rather than reply as s/he did, well ok, but we then have to admit that we run up against another problem. Namely, the likelihood that corrections may discourage the student from speaking at all. That's pretty much the last thing we ever want to see.

It's probably worth pausing just to clarify and adda few caveats. The primary plateau doesn't mean that a child now fails to improve at all. It's more that we see the rate of progress falling off compared to earlier in the child's L2. learning journey. Of course, learning progress typically declines as a natural outcome of the well-documented diminishing returns on study time. This much is to be expected and applies as much when learning English as it does to learning programming or pretty much anything else for that matter. So, when I talk of a 'primary plateau' I am referring to a substantially lower rate of progress than this predictable outcome of 'diminishing returns' might account for. I am referring, that is, to the student substantially falling behind his peers and, in the worst case scenario, entering a secondary department where the language demands will prove truly daunting. At this point in the child's education -start of secondary- if you happen to believe the critical age hypothesis (and I do), then the chance becoming truly native like in English usage becomes very much less probable. And that's why I believe we need to give this whole Primary Plateau notion serious attention.

How common?

Not all children exhibit a primary plateau, but if the phenomenon is real for some, as I suspect, then how common is it? I think the answer depends upon the particular student we're looking at. While some children avoid the plateau altogether, others plateau out so severely that it raises teachers' concern. Often the factor explaining these different outcomes is the child's personality. Some children will always make make that extra effort towards perfection knowing full well that they gain sought after teacher approval by so doing. For these 'studious' types, for want of a better word, the slightest sense that grades seem less than stellar prompts a renewed urge to study and get back on course. I tend to see the plateau among those less desirous of teacher approval and who fail to appreciate the many circumstances in which correct language usage is pretty much essential -from sitting exams, presenting formal speeches, writing texts for public consumption (I'd place Student A firmly into this category) etc. As for 'How common is the plateau,' the answer depends upon just how many of your students fall into one or other of these two broad 'characteristic' types. For non-English speaking children who have joined a school in reception, the plateauing seems to most commonly arise among susceptible children in Year 3 and 4 classes. For new EAL children with highly limited English (I mean those enrolling in any of the years 1 -6 ) the effect can arise irrespective of the year group they join in. As noted, Student 'A' joined the school in year 3.

The solution

If I'm right about this 'primary plateau' reality and it causes then, I have a few tentative solutions. This isn't a complete list, but at least it's a start. First off, let's take the teacher/student conversation noted above. Could the teacher have handled this rather better? I don't claim for one moment to have all the answers, so take what I say as you will, and get back to me if you think I'm drifting off course. That said, here's my advice. First, consider the exchange above. In my view, what teachers need to do in these situations is to feign communicative failure -get across that you don't understand the questions. This achieves two goals: First, the teacher does not discourage the student from attempting to speak English (the danger that arises with overt correction) and, second, the child has every incentive to reformulate his/her language to communicate the intended message more correctly. Here's an example of what I mean:

Student: Where you go last weekend?

Teacher: Uhmmm. ... Maybe I will go to Central. (feigning communicative failure and inviting the student to reformulate the question).

Student: Last weekend.

Student: Ah! "Where did you go last weekend?" I went to Paragon Shopping centre and saw a move. Where did you go? (note: the teacher takes the opportunity to provide a recast by repeating the correct form of the initial question).

Teacher: I went to Pattaya with my family.

As I see it, the student now has every incentive to reflect upon how s/he might communicate more effectively. The teacher provides correction, of sorts (albeit indirectly as a recast) and avoids reinforcing the student's use of an incorrect grammatical form. I can truly imagine that same student coming up with the correct "Where did you go last weekend," on the following Monday.

If this seems an improvement upon ignoring the error at the time of the exchange, we do still have to deal with the basic issue: the student's disinclination to develop language skills that don't on the face of it improve upon communicative competence. Besides, even if this 'feigning' strategy works well in the context of brief conversational exchanges, what should we do about errors in children's writing and their classwork more generally? We really need more weapons in the Armory! In my efforts to tackle the plateau I have enjoyed a measure of success with two strategies. First, I've made it a policy to regularly and forcefully and impress upon students my belief in the importance of correct grammar. During lessons (but not social exchanges as that above), I'll regularly remind students of the high priority examination boards place on grammatically correct English, the importance of 'good English' when it comes to seeking employment, winning school essay competitions and gaining acceptance among English L1 users should students wish to pursue tertiary education overseas. When I mark written work, I try to reinforce that same message. I highlight certain errors (usually grammatical) as a matter of course and insist on students attempting a correction of those that seem especially attention worthy (not all errors! That could prove pretty discouraging to a learner). I cannot say for sure whether this focus on structure proves effective. I do believe it to be so, and have anecdotal evidence in the bucket load to back me up.

The second strategy is more cerebral. It involves essentially making grammatical correction a stimulating intellectual exercise in and of itself. This means teaching relevant formal grammar rules (these I've designed based upon the error analysis findings reported in an earlier post) and challenging students to correct errors by identifying and applying the rule (or rules) deemed relevant for the purpose. From the child's perspective, I'm giving out a puzzle to solve, and the satisfaction they derive from the activity comes from finding a solution together with identifying the particular rules that makes this possible. In the true spirit of Sr-EAL, the errors that I challenge children to correct invariably come from samples of their own writing. Typically, I might hand out a sheet with a list of 20 sentences or so that I've copied from the class's Literacy books. The task instructions invite the students to play the part of the teacher and make any corrections deemed necessary. Students could complete this individually, then check answers with classmates, or complete the activity as a group. The choice, as always, falls to the teacher. The activity concludes with a whole class review of each sentence in turn.

Conclusion

The Great Primary Plateau strikes me as all too real, but the evidence still remains largely anecdotal. The notion that a student might make little progress once he or she believes that their mastery of English is sufficient for understanding and communicating seems intuitively highly plausible. What is language, after all, other than an instrument for performing just these two roles? It takes no great leap of imagination to suppose that an EAL learner may see little need in mastering grammar if the errors from failing to do so are not of a sort that frustrate communication. Personally, I believe that I have observed the Primary Plateau effect on numerous occasions and see the Plateau as a genuine concern. It's something you might like to look into within your own school setting.