Most of my students struggle to some extent with their verbal ability. Anthony had no ability to make any sounds when he started school in September, and he still knows only a couple words in either Spanish or English. He has trouble putting sounds together. "Good morning" sounds like "G-u-d-mo-r-n-ing." Oluwatosin already has a verbal IEP so I recommended that he be tested for articulation delays. He was tested (a minor miracle) and found that although he did not have six ending sounds (/b/, /l/, /r/, etc) and four middle sounds, he did not need any extra support. Mikea is even worse. She's great with most of the vowel sounds, but she can only say a couple of consonant sounds. So when she needs to use the bathroom, she says "I a ue e eeaaaooo." But, of course, she doesn't qualify for an IEP because she's not two years behind in two academic areas. Oh, she's far enough behind in many areas, but they're not necessarily academic. So she won't receive any help. Most of the other students have difficulty, too, but not as bad as these three.
This morning I asked the class what they were going to do over the weekend, and then I called on Oluwatosin, Mikea, and Anthony, all in a row. That was a mistake. Oluwatosin said, "I goi to palay wiff my baman gaeboy." Me: "You're going to play with what?" "My baman gaeboy!" (Oluwatosin is good about getting louder when someone doesn't understand what he says.) I was still confused. Another student translated: "His Batman gameboy." Me: "I see. Mikea, what are you going to do?" Mikea: "I oiiiii paaaai ieaaa aes-paaa." Me: "You're going to do what?" Mikea, barely whispering: "I oiiii paaai ieaaa aes-paaa." Me, to the class at large: "What did she say?" Students: "She's going to play with her pink toys." Me: "Oh. Anthony, what are you going to do tomorrow?" Anthony: "Jstoambielyskl Ssthelingle anltiehgnitel adlis stilen vlien liensliavnl elainsle alvienlsilves. Tieslfin tielsfne slinetlsd vlies avoeslrn aoresl aigle glaiers lit alisnl f." Me, nodding intently, focused, and paying great attention: "Uh huh....mmm...wow....that sounds like a fun weekend, Anthony. You're going to play outside?" He nods. No one knows what he said, and he doesn't know what I said, but we all just pretend together.
The worst is when one of these three want something. Today, for example, Oluwatosin approached me and solemnly asked, "Ms. Mrsa, cn I pidle malvea?" Me: (Pretending I know what he's asking.) "With the blocks?" Oluwatosin: "Yah." Me: (hoping it won't get either of us in trouble later, but not having the time to continue guessing): "Ok." I still have no idea what he wanted.
One interesting development is that all the students have become very careful about listening to what someone says in case they are needed to translate. Today during circle time Jayson responded to a question about what we could build. He said a word that was either "birdhouse" or "bunny house." The entire class instantly took sides and a heated debate of the "yes it was!"/"no it wasn't!" type began. Was that an /ir/ or an /un/ sound in the middle? It's hard to tell. Jayson didn't even know. I ruled that it was "birdhouse" and moved on to something else before tears, fists, or nasty looks got out of hand.
