Reimage Your Health Education Class

Traditional classroom instructor, Mr. Dean Sahbroo, has a great job. He gets to school every morning at 8:00 am, reboots his computer, turns on the projector, and unzips the day’s lesson plans from the mini drive he carries around on his key chain. The computer screen initiates and little icons start appearing, then after a few moments in the middle of the screen a tiny hoop shows a clockwise circulating pulse. Around and around it goes and after about a minute of this Mr. Sahbroo realizes the LED on his mini drive is not flashing. He tries unplugging it and plugging it back in again.


Dean concludes his computer system must be “hung up.” He grabs the mini drive out of his computer and walks over to the administration office to ask the cheerful school assistant, Ms. Dunelle Carple, if she could try loading it on her computer. She obliges. Sure enough the LED starts flashing and a folder image appears on her screen. She clicks on it and then launches a document called “Third Grade Lesson 1&2:”

MAJOR AREA: The Human Body
GRADE: Third Grade (Lesson 1&2)

TOPIC: Circulatory System
EMPHASIS: Anatomy & Physiology – Heart and blood vessels


Power Point Lecture

  1. Description of Heart
  2. Hollow muscle
  3. Weight 11 oz.
  4. Size of

*brrympht*. The document closes unexpectedly and after a few moments in the middle of the screen a tiny hoop shows a clockwise circulating pulse.*pop*. A dialogue message box appears “Warning: Removable Drive Unreadable.” Dunelle picks up the phone and calls the help desk. She describes slowly step-by-step what happened on their computers and what she and Mr. Sahbroo have done. Suddenly the normally cheerful expression on Ms. Carple’s face turns ashen.


Reimage is a term used in association with computers. Essentially it means your operating system has slowed down or crashes too often because some software became damaged, corrupted or plagued with ‘bugs.’ During the re-imaging process everything on your computer system is removed and then reinstalled or better yet replaced with an upgraded version. Most people are deathly afraid of re-imaging and opt to simply reboot their system by turning it off and on again.

A quality health education class requires more than a simple rebooting process. The above hypothetical scenario of loading a prepackaged health lesson to be taught by someone not professionally prepared to teach health illustrates just one obvious pitfall of over-reliance on one form of technology (for a few more pitfalls see “Death by PowerPoint” from Don McMillan). Technology can certainly help with instruction, but up to this point it has been a great unrealized hope in educational reform.

Other repetitive routines including outdated lectures, recycled worksheets, and over copied quizzes need to be replaced with authentic or lifelike activities and assessments that engage the students. Students do learn what they live. Health topics relate most intimately with a student unlike other traditional class subjects. Leave it those other classes to describe the heart as a ‘hollow muscle.’ Students in health class can feel their own pulse and talk about what it means to “have a heart.”

Once the static lifeless instruction is removed, then the lessons can be resuscitated with the students themselves breathing life into the learning activities. How this sense of authenticity extends beyond words can be found in the lyrics “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield, “No one else can feel it for you, Only you can let it in.” Through in class activities students record their own comprehensive health textbook with an inner voice.

Topics such as eating disorders, alcohol related problems, harmful ways of relating, and childhood obesity to name a few can be discussed in small groups then shared with the whole class. So a student is not alone reading a textbook but supported by peers in a skit creation, a game, a Socratic seminar, or a project. Sometimes the work created can also serve as the assessment. This style also lends itself well to treatment of emerging current wellness topics such as new allergies or diseases.

In review it should be noted that over reliance on power point slides should be avoided, health should be taught by those who were professionally trained to do so, and lessons must include authentic activities in which each student can relate to their own personal health and wellbeing. Unlike traditional lectures the life-like activities can be fun! Once you reimage health education is in this manner students will retain more of the information because the way in which it was learned made it more memorable and enjoyable enough to last a lifetime.

Whole Word Is Nonsense – How We Got Stuck with the Worst Way to Learn to Read

Rudolph Flesch was a graduate of Teachers College and an authority on both reading and writing. He was himself an educator and, you might think, an insider. Nonetheless, he spent much of his life in a frustrating quest to persuade his colleagues that they had made a tragic mistake by favoring look-say over phonics. His “Why Johnny Can’t Read” was a national bestseller in 1956. But the education establishment vilified him and ignored him.

Flesch waited 25 years and tried again with “Why Johnny Still Can’t Read.” Again it was a bestseller. Again the educational establishment snickered; and his earnest, heartfelt effort could not overcome their hostility. He died believing that the situation might be hopeless. This tribute will consist of trying to answer a question: why did Rudolph Flesch have to waste so much of his life defending the obvious?

I’ve read his books and many others dealing with the same topics and I kept asking: what is REALLY going on here? Phonics has to be a part of any reading program, right? Isn’t it the simplest way to figure out a word you don’t know? Why do his opponents keep pushing ideas that don’t work? All they have to do is read Rudolph Flesch. Two bestsellers! Surely everyone has heard of these wonderful books.

Flesch discusses British schools, where it is normal for children to learn to read by Christmas of their first grade. Once they grasp the phonetic code, they can read anything, at age seven. Children forced into look-say (or whole word) classes learn English as if each word were a Chinese ideogram. This approach is slow and inefficient. Typically, kids can memorize about 800 “sight words” a year. Even by the sixth grade, so-called A-students could be expected to know only 5000 words. With this limited vocabulary, there is no newspaper or cereal box that they can read even half of, at age twelve. Worse still, children that age have more than 30,000 words buzzing around in their heads. They speak most of these words, and recognize all of them in conversation. They just can’t recognize them in print. Imagine the imprisonment and torture we are describing here. Your ears and your brain know 30,000 words, but your eyes know only 5000. You can get a migraine just thinking about this. By the end of high school an outstanding look-say student might know 10,000 words on sight, but by that time the volume of heard or recognized words has probably grown past 50,000. The victim of this abuse will be semiliterate for life. The victim will not be able to read for pleasure.

It’s difficult for an adult to identify with what a child goes through in look-say. Here are some simple ways to do this. Go on Google and find some pages in a foreign language you don’t know. Or turn a page of English upside down and look at it in a mirror. Now imagine you are told to memorize all those words by SHAPE alone. (Note that you will eventually need to memorize several shapes for every word: “teachings,” “Teachings,” “TEACHINGS,” and versions in hand writing or odd typefaces.) In all cases, you must NOT break words into letters or syllables. You must NOT sound out the words. Just memorize the shapes– that is, the design, the look, the appearance. Feeling dyslexic, are you? Feeling depressed and anxious? ADD coming on? Yes, that happens a lot.

Here is the fundamental point. Words learned phonetically will always re-introduce themselves to you, a thousand times if necessary. Each word contains its own speech chip, so to speak. The word talks to you, “Here’s how you pronounce me!” But a word learned as an ideogram is static and uncommunicative. Either you have memorized it or you haven’t, much like a house, car or other object seen as you drive through a neighborhood. Do you know that house or don’t you? The house doesn’t say, not a peep. It’s up to you to recall the shape of the roof, the color of the garage, etc. (Imagine the nightmare of trying to memorize thousands of houses by name.) For children caught in look-say, English looks like this: htchfgd fhwtrg dsphw mjl bqv xtpkng… There’s thousands upon thousands of small, strange, silent shapes to memorize. And they’re coming at you very fast as you try to read across the page.

Only the smartest Chinese can learn even 20,000 of their ideograms (which have only one shape and often contain a pictographic element). Even this amount requires excellent memory, great discipline, and endless practice drawing these symbols. Modern educators routinely condemn practice and memorization; how odd that they selected a reading pedagogy that demands both. English now hurtles toward a total vocabulary of 1,000,000 words. Look-say was never a feasible way to deal with this Niagara of symbols. Memorizing short, common words (house, stop, good, but, they, what) may not be too bad at first. Children might learn one or two thousand such words and get A’s in third and fourth grade reading. (Provided, of course, they are reading books written in this controlled vocabulary–so the A’s are quite dishonest.) But progress will now come more slowly because the children will have to move on to bigger, more visually cumbersome words (bathroom, apartment, however, television, somewhere). Their brains will struggle to remember the tiny visual differences between, for example, virtue, virtual, visit, vertigo, vision, verse, visible, vista, version, visa, visiting, virgin, visual. (What mnemonic tricks would you use to remember that “virtue” has something to do with morality but “virtual” has something to do with computers? Would those tricks work a month later? Could you transfer those memory tricks to VIRTUE and VIRTUAL?) Still more bad news: Once children learn to sight-read a few thousand words, their brains resist phonics. If these children try to read some words phonetically, well, they can’t, not easily. It hurts. Their brains have become wired for shapes, not sounds. These children will say they hate reading. Teachers will start calling them dyslexic.

According to Flesch, we are wired to talk by age three, write by age five, and read by age seven, roughly speaking. These things happen naturally, with time and encouragement. Learning to talk, he notes, is a far greater intellectual leap than learning to read. But what do you know– three-year-olds do it. Similarly, seven-year-olds will almost universally learn to read, if you don’t put obstacles in their way. An inability to read is rare among humans; you would expect to find actual brain damage. The evil genius of look-say is that it creates the symptoms of brain damage in healthy children. Here’s a grim but probably accurate thought. If our educators were teaching children to talk, we would have a society overflowing with mutes. As it is, we have a society overflowing with “functional illiterates.”

Frank Smith, whom many educators regard as a great expert on reading, did more than anyone else to perpetuate the war against phonics and against Rudolph Flesch. Smith states flatly: “Readers do not need the alphabet.” He ridicules phonics (“the 166 rules and 45 exceptions,” as he puts it). Smith likes to pretend that young children are empty-headed and will be sounding out exotic words they do not know. But that’s a phony set-up. Kids in first grade already know more than 20,000 words. They need help ASAP in recognizing the printed version of all these words. Smith himself gave the game away when he wrote, as a put-down: “Phonics works if you know what a word is likely to be in the first place.” Yes, and that can be a big help–just what the child needs to keep going. Suppose the story is about a farm; there are chickens, mules, ducks, cows, pigs, turkeys, horses and a rooster there. The child knows all those words; with just a hint of the starting sound, the child reads all those words. Call phonics one of the great inventions of human history. Or call it a code-breaker, a crutch, a trick, a cheat sheet. It lets children read all those thousands of fairly complex words they speak in conversation by age five, but with look-say will not be able to read until they are in high school, if ever. Words such as hurricane, internet, digital, vacation, interstate, Mercedes, crocodile, computing, cheerleader, quarterback, aspirin, battery, janitor, detergent, headquarters, electricity, military, Manhattan, athletic, chemistry, understand, groceries, religion, Hollywood, etc., etc.

My guess is that children don’t need a lot of phonics to get started. (I say this knowing that Dr. Flesch would disagree. I say this because I somehow graduated from college and became an author without learning even a single phonics rule. I think that what happened was that I was in look-say classes but the teacher was teaching some informal phonics on the side! Fortunately. Indeed, it’s one of my favorite theories that a LOT of guerrilla teaching occurred in this country. Otherwise, the look-say disaster would be much worse than it is.) At most (and this is just my impression), young children need one consonant sound plus the long and short vowel sounds. But here’s what they absolutely have to know: the alphabetic concept by which letters can stand for sounds. And it’s this great cultural treasure that look-say was designed to keep forever hidden. Judging by everything I’ve read, look-say is the worst possible way to teach reading. Whenever it’s used, literacy declines. Weird reading problems proliferate. Look-say (or whole word) is arguably a form of child abuse.

What, by the way, is the best way to teach reading? I suspect it’s the same way we teach tying shoelaces, cooking, using a computer, and all the rest. An adult sits by the child and helps the child along. Children love stories and they love repetition. So there’s plenty of opportunity to point at letters, syllables and words, to repeat sounds, to enjoy rhyme, and to discuss what a wonderful but sometimes whacky thing the English language is. I also suspect that poetry–anything with rhyme, including nursery rhymes and doggerel–should be central.

Well, this debate has been played out in many books and throughout the country. At this date, 20 years after Dr. Flesch passed away, his message largely prevails. The forces of whole word–especially since 1995–are slowly receding, like some dark tide. But we are still left, ever more intriguingly, with the question: why did this bogus technique come into vogue in the first place? To find the answer, we have to peer back at the history of education, all the way to the early part of the 20th century and into the late 19th century. Two entirely new fields were born at that time, Education and Psychology; the same small group dominated both. What were the motives and goals of these willful men, the ones who perpetrated look-say and so many other dubious strategies? For many years I simply could not figure it out. Why were American educators so incurably drawn to bad ideas? I kept hoping there was a benign explanation. Then I began suspecting that these people were either the biggest bunglers in history or huge criminals. But which? And why? For a long time, American educational theory and practice seemed to me like a bizarre mystery story.

Problems in English Education in Japan: The Three C’s

Everyone involved in the language education sector in Japan will freely admit that English education in the country has been on a level at best over the past couple of decades, and many arguments could be made that the standard of English from school-leavers is actually decreasing. At the same time, education in South Korea, China, Taiwan and elsewhere in Asia are experiencing English language booms with children becoming very proficient in the language from an early age. While there are a number of reasons causing this relative decline in Japan, I think there are three main contributing factors resulting in this status quo. These are a suppression of creativity in students, and the lack of challenge presented to them.


I write this from the standpoint of a teacher at a junior high school, although the latter factor certainly applies to later grades of elementary school, and is an issue I will go into later. The education system in Japan revolves around a set event, and preparing for it. At elementary school the students are focused towards getting into Junior High School; once they get there their sole goal is to pass the high school entrance exam (for those that will go to high school). Once into high school, the aim of every student is to pass the “Centre Test”, the Japanese name for the university entrance exam, which will focus the rest of their lives. Anything that is not involved with getting to these goals is deemed unimportant, and grammar points not to be tested (even if important to learn for English language comprehension) are passed over.

At the senior high school level, I was lucky enough to teach at a high level school, which offered two English-based subjects that were not on the Center Test: Model United Nations and PCLL (a subject with 3 components: speech, skit and debate). When these subjects were introduced, teachers were met by a strong resistance from parents, who complained that their children shouldn’t be wasting their time on things that wouldn’t directly be tested. It took a strong principal and group of teachers to defend their position and to try to explain the benefits that the subjects would have; both within the English language skills spectrum, and throughout their range of studies and beyond. The argument was made that these subjects were not just preparing students living in a small village in Okinawa for a single test, but giving the adults of tomorrow the skills, knowledge and means to develop for life in a truly global society. I know there are a whole bunch of buzzwords in there, but it’s the best way to explain it. And whenever I meet former students from that high school (who are invariably doing very well in their lives), they remember clearly those classes, the themes discussed, and the skills they learnt.

It was a high-level school to begin with, but the fact that it was willing to look a little outside the box transformed it from being an average to low level school 15 years ago, to one of the top 3 in Okinawa today. But look down to the general situation of English language education at junior high schools in Japan (even more so in Okinawa), and things are much different. Scarily enough, I am still unaware if there is any actual syllabus set out by the Ministry of Education in Japan that states what students should know at the end of each year of learning. The textbooks that are approved by the Ministry of Education certainly teach different material at different points to students, so there is no consistency there. But what there is consistency in, is removing all traces of creativity from students. At elementary school students learn that the answer to the question, “How are you?” is, “I’m fine, thank you. And you?”. There is no other response. At junior high school you would expect students to be able to be given range to express their real feelings, but even then they are limited to a handful. You are allowed to be good, fine, tired, hungry or have stomach ache. Other feelings will not be on the end of year exam and so should not really be discussed.

Students are spoon-fed information so much that they become unable to think of even the simplest things by themselves. A perfect example of this would be earlier in this academic year. The sentence being learned (sentences are almost always learned in phrase form, meaning students are frequently unable to understand how the grammatical structures in them are formed) was “I visited my grandmother at 8 o’clock”. After a little practice most of the students were able to say it reasonably well, and I wanted to give them a chance to control what they say, so asked the first student to say the sentence but change the time from 8 o’clock to something else. This was explained in Japanese so the student understood (more on that later too), who made as big an acknowledgement as your typical Japanese junior high school student can muster that they understood. And then they were given the floor to make a modified sentence. And for almost 2 minutes the class waited. The student put their head down, looked into their book, looked out of the window hoping focus would shift off them, consulted with two or three of their classmates, and then eventually gave the same original answer, “I visited my grandmother at 8 o’clock”. It took another student a minute before they could actually change the time to nine o’clock. A similar barrier was created when the family member was asked to be changed from mother. This seems to be the norm, rather than the exception. They get drilled into them a sentence structure (in this case “my mother… “) that it is the only thing they can comprehend. When given the chance to use a word like “father”, “brother” or “sister” in place of it, the choice seems overwhelming to them rendering them unable to make what many would deem to be a simple and unimportant choice.

This lack of creativity being observed, and even encouraged by some English teachers, affects the students somewhat when they come to exams, but much more it is rendering many incapable of communicating effectively in English in a real-life environment. Because they learn certain phrases and set structures only, whenever anything goes outside of those boundaries, the students are unable to follow it and respond. Originality is something that is seldom heard or read, as the set phrases are the only way the students know how to express their ideas.

I should not that this is definitely not the case all the time. Students frequently have the ability to impress and surprise with their English and willingness to try connecting grammar points they have learnt, but not necessarily learnt together, in order to communicate their thoughts. These students, even if they don’t have the best raw English ability, are usually the ones that see the biggest improvement in their language skills. But it is definitely the majority from my experiences.


The second large part is the lack of a challenge for students. I am a firm believer that if you challenge students then you will get the best out of them. It is a fine balancing act, as pushing them too much and in the wrong way can provoke resentment and a student simply refusing to learn (especially as the student enters their teens at junior high school). But I feel many teachers in Japan are catering their classes for the lowest level learner present (some who try hard but find English very difficult, and others who are unwilling to learn in any of their classes). This means the majority of students who actually start the activity (many just wait for the answers or do nothing at all) finish quickly because the activities are not at all testing for them.

Let me give you an example. A handout that accompanied a textbook chapter was recently given to 2nd year English students (13-14 years old). The page was roughly set up as you can see below:


Grammar point: “Yes, I am.” / “No, I am not.”

Explanation in Japanese about meaning and usage of grammar point.

Question 1

  1. Are you going to clean your room tomorrow?


Hint: Yes

Question 2

  1. Are you going to see your friends tomorrow?


Hint: Yes

Question 3

  1. Are you going to visit your grandmother tomorrow?


Hint: Yes


It then went on using the same style but for “No, I am not”. Learning then went on to cover the “you”, “he”, “she”, “we”, and “they” forms, but the activities were virtually the same; simply copying the answer from the section above. Following that worksheet, focus was moved onto another point and this section just covered could be checked off the list and forgotten about. No expansion of answers, experimenting with making their own questions (studied in the previous class) and asking their peers was permitted, because it wouldn’t be in the test and therefore was superfluous. And there was no chance to take what they had learnt and take it to the next level, increasing their understanding of that point and giving them the chance to link it to other points that know now and will learn in the future.

Vocabulary tests are infrequent, and when they occur students are usually given 5 words to learn, with them knowing the exact order in which they will come in the test. Consequently, you have students only practicing in the last 5 minutes before the test and then being desperate to get the paper so they can write down what is in their short term memory before they forget it. Asking a student the meaning of one of their test words 15 minutes into the class is akin to getting blood out of a stone, as it has long since disappeared from their short term memory banks. Once again, no real assessment of English knowledge or ability is attained by conducting the test; it is only seeing who can spit out the exact words they were given in the 30s-1min between closing their books and receiving their test paper. I can only speak from my point of view, but at the junior high school I had weekly vocabulary tests (either L1->L2 or L2->L1, or a combination of both; not known until the test was given), which comprised of at least 20-30 words, with 10-15 being chosen at random. When this was mentioned previously to co-workers they remarked it must have been so hard for students to do. It wasn’t easy sometimes, but it made us very efficient learners.

Once again the students who try to push themselves (which must be done individually, due to there being no “gifted learners” class or similar in most schools) by working to understand more than the brief outline presented to them reap the rewards, when it comes to test time and also outside the classroom, when conducting any activities in English.

But now that I mentioned tests, it brings me onto another “C” that is a large factor in why English education, and in other subjects too, is undergoing such problems in Japan.


Consequences, or rather lack of them, cannot be underestimated in the mediocrity of English language education in Japan. Thinking back, I feel I studied pretty hard at school, mainly because I know my parents had given me a great opportunity, and I didn’t want to waste it. In certain subjects I worked hard through fear of incurring the wrath of the teacher; others have said they worked hard to get into a good university, because they wanted their parents to be happy etc. Homework was always done to the best of my ability and tests were studied hard for. We all knew that if weekly vocabulary tests were failed (under 50%), retests would occur lunchtimes or after school every day (same vocabulary list but different test words) until 50% was achieved. Some students found it difficult at first or didn’t like the retests, but within a month or so everyone was trying hard to get the best score possible. At the other end of the scale, high scores were put towards points to a “Good record” in your homework diary book; a record of every piece of work you had to do at home, and which parents had to sign each week, so they could see how well you were doing, or trouble you had been involved in at school. This was a simple system but motivated some people greatly as they wanted to impress their parents and show what they could do.

Now let’s jump over to Okinawa and the vocabulary test I mentioned above consisting of 5 words that the students already know the order of, and they are the only words they have to learn. A student doesn’t study at all, sleeps for the duration of the 10 minute test and gets 0 points. They don’t really care because there is no consequence of the test. It may or may not be put into the student’s final term or year-end grade, but since these grades have no real meaning either there is no incentive for them to put any effort in. Retests are non-existent at lunchtime or after school (in the case of the latter I was told, “Students want to go home or have clubs”, and sports clubs usually take precedent over academic things). So you can end up with a student at the end of the year who has completed no homework assignments, got 0 in every test and possibly mustered the energy to write their name on their end of year exam before going to sleep, and just being told they must work harder next year. They don’t, and so the process continues until they leave the school system. There is a reward system in place in the form of stickers or stamps, at a lot of junior high schools, and these motivate some students to volunteer and do work. But I always remember reading a quote from someone much more skilled than me, who said that prizes/bribes/rewards are good, but care should be taken to ensure they don’t become the sole reason for learning. Once this happens, and the reward is removed, so is the motivation for studying.

The discipline system does leave a good deal to be desired too in Japanese schools. I’m not advocating bringing back corporal punishment (initially wrote “capital punishment”… a Freudian slip, perhaps?), but students seem to wield complete power, even more so than in Western schools. It is virtually impossible to remove a student from a class because it is “depriving them of an education”, even if their actions are depriving the rest of the class of the chance to learn. Which can lead to anarchic classes sometimes. In a class I witnessed a few weeks ago there were 20 students; 7 were sleeping, 6 were talking with each other across the classroom, 3 were reading their own books, with only 4 students attempting to listen to the teacher. Every so often the teacher would try to wake up some of the students or stop them talking to each other. The students would just wave or push away the teacher and go back to what they were doing. In addition, principles and vice-principles are not involved in the disciplining; that role being assigned to a different teacher each year.

This has ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be, so thank you if you’ve stuck with it and got through it all. These aren’t all the issues involved, and there are some good sides to English education here. Hopefully in an article I the near future I will take a look at some of the other factors involved in teaching English here in Japan.

Let me know if you agree or disagree with anything I’ve said.