There’s a difference between (a) reading research related to reading instruction and (b) reading what others have said about research related to reading instruction. It’s important to know the difference. When you read research articles, you get to evaluate the methodology and interpret that data. When you read what somebody else has written about research, you must trust that their evaluation is fair, and their interpretation of the data is accurate. You are reliant on the relative clarity of their lens.

So, far too often you’re left with people like me whose job it is to continually read and evaluate research. But this chapter is written so that you will be able to do this. It’s written to make me obsolete.

This is what Ken Goodman wrote in 1967:

“Reading is a psycholinguistic guessing game. It involves an interaction between thought and language. Efficient reading does not result from precise perception and identification of all elements, but from skill in selecting the fewest, most productive cues necessary to produce guesses which are right the first time. The ability to anticipate that which has not been seen, of course, is vital in reading, just as the ability to anticipate what has not yet been heard is vital in listening (Goodman, 1967, p. 127)

The term, psycholinguistic guessing game” has been commonly taken out of context and misunderstood by those who would propose a skills-based approach to reading instruction. Remember, context matters. In the context in which it was used, this term refers to the process used by your brain to maximize efficiency during reading.

In 1967, Ken Goodman published an article in Reading Research Quarterly with the title` Reading: A Psycholinguistic Guessing Game (Goodman, 1967). Here he applies Psycholinguistic Theory to the reading process. A pretty good article. I highly recommend reading it. However, two words have been pulled from the title ‘reading’ and ‘guessing’. These two words have become a Rorschach inkblot test for those who would disagree with or who don’t understand Dr. Goodman’s ideas. All sorts of dark and scary images have been projected upon them. These Rorschach-ian projections have been used for the last 50 years to misrepresent whole language and to discredit the work of Ken Goodman.

This is a wonderful conversation that I had with Claude Goldenberg. He has different ideas about things but he is a delight to talk with.

As said throughout this book: if you are against something, you should at the very least know a little somebody about that which you are against. SoR enthusiasts are often against something that isn’t. In this case, they are against what they call balanced literacy, but it certainly isn’t balanced literacy. It turns out that they’re against their un-understanding of balanced literacy.

So let’s begin by defining our terms: Balanced literacy is merely balancing skills instruction with opportunities to practice those skills in authentic reading contexts. And what that balance is depends on the student. Some students need more skills instruction and less practice, others need less skills instruction and more practice. But all students need lots of reading practice. Could you imagine getting better at anything without practice? Could you imagine being able to play the piano if you never practiced playing real music? How effective would your early learning be if you just did scales and fingering exercises without playing music? Which is a nice transition to the next section.

Structured literacy is based on the idea that people learn complex things best by mastering each little part separately and then putting the parts together to create the whole. This is called part-to-whole instruction or Humpty-Dumptianism. Applied to reading, you would pull apart each of the eight strands of Scarborough’s reading rope, then teach all the little subparts related to each of the eight strands (one little subpart at a time) until all the eight strands and their corresponding subparts were mastered. The theory is that at some point, children would be able to put all the subparts back together again and engage in the act of reading.

It just makes good sense, yes?

There are 26 letters used to make the 44 phonemes found in the English language. These 44 phonemes are represented by over 280 letter-sound combinations. You teach children how to “decode” by first teaching them how to put together all the 280 letter-sound combinations so they can apply them to all the words they will ever encounter. It just makes good sense, yes?

Phonics is important, but if that’s all you’re teaching, you limit students’ ability to recognize words and create meaning with print. And that is the end goal – to create meaning, not to fill out phonics worksheets, or pass end-of-unit tests, or sound out words in isolation

I was having a discussion with a fellow online who insisted that early reading instruction should consist primarily of direct instruction of phonics. His argument was that unlike learning to use oral language, learning to use written language is not a natural process for humans. “We’re not wired to learn these skills” he insisted. “Reading is a uniquely human invention,” he said. According to him, children, starting around age 5 or 6, need lots of direct instruction of letter-sound relationships in order to learn “the code”. When they learn the code, then they can read (or decode).

This is a commonly held idea that seems to make good sense to many. But we want reading instruction to be based on good science, not good sense. So, let’s do a bit of unpack-o-rating: