contributed by Alan Davson
‘Anyone who has visited my classroom knows how much I love words.
I teach multimedia arts, but I talk about words so much that most people assume I must be an English teacher.
Over the years, no matter what subject I taught, I kept noticing the same pattern. My students
were bright, creative, and capable, but they were often easily thrown when they encountered
unfamiliar words.
Sometimes it only took one word to derail them. Some students could sound things out, but when asked to explain what the word meant, they would shut down.
Some students could sound things out, but when asked to explain what the word meant, they would shut down.
At a certain point, I realized the issue went beyond reading. Students weren’t just struggling to
decode words. They were struggling with language itself. They didn’t always have the words to
explain what they were thinking, to ask for help clearly, or even to describe what was bothering
them.
That gap showed up academically, but also socially and emotionally.
I tried the usual approaches. Word walls, vocabulary lists, and games. I made a point to model
stronger language during discussions. It helped, but only to a point. Students could memorize
definitions, but the understanding didn’t always stick.
The shift happened during a simple moment. A student got stuck on the word transport. Instead
of defining it, I broke it apart into trans and port. Then I asked the class what other words they
knew that sounded similar.
They started calling things out. Transfer. Transform. Portable. Import. Export.
As we talked through those words and their meanings, something clicked. The room changed.
Students started to see that words weren’t random. They had structure. They connected. They
could be figured out.
From there, it became something we did regularly. We started breaking words apart, comparing
them, and connecting them across subjects. Sometimes it led into conversations about history
or science or where words came from. Other times, it simply helped a student unlock a meaning
they would have otherwise skipped.
What stood out most was the shift in confidence. Students who would normally avoid unfamiliar
words began leaning into them. They weren’t just memorizing language anymore. They were
working with it.
What I came to understand is that students don’t always need more vocabulary. They need a
way into vocabulary. Once they realize that words can be broken down and explored, the barrier
starts to come down.
During the COVID-19 shutdown, I started thinking about how to make this approach more
engaging and consistent. That process eventually led to the development of a card game called
SAYWORD!, which was built directly from the same classroom ideas.
When we returned in-person, I introduced it to students, and the response was immediate. They debated, challenged each other, and pulled from knowledge they had built over time. It didn’t feel like vocabulary practice. It felt like play.
What began in the classroom has since reached beyond it. Students brought it home. Families
started playing together. What started as a way to support a handful of students turned into
something that worked just as well around a table as it did at a desk.
The core idea, though, hasn’t changed. When students understand that words have structure
and meaning beyond memorized definitions, they begin to approach language differently.
They become more willing to take risks, more confident in their thinking, and more engaged in the
process.
For me, it started with one word on the board. For my students, it became a way in.
TeachThought Staff 2026-04-19 23:17:28
Source link