It is a Friday afternoon during my PGCE year and I am still desperately trying to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. It’s two minutes until the end-of-lunch bell rings and my resources, lesson plan and super starter are set.

They enter. The senior leadership team - “pretend we are not here” - are now all eyes on me. Then it happens.

I’m mid-starter and asking the class to associate pictures of Adam and Eve with the biblical imagery in Shelley’s Frankenstein. Sabrina has her hand up.

“Yes Sabrina, so what can you tell me about these pictures? What’s happening?”

“It’s that wifey what scranned the apple, sir.”

“It’s whom, Sabrina?” I stumbled, confused.

“Well, ye na sir. That wifey what nicked that gadgie’s apple and propa took liberties by scrannin’ it in front of him, like.”

How to respond? She was right, but her vocabulary did a very good job of hiding it.

I realised quickly that I had to find a way to jazz-up vocabulary study for students such as Sabrina. No longer did I want up-levelling vocabulary to be arcane and the bête noire of the lesson. On the contrary, my penchant was for wanton wordplay.

Throughout the remainder of my PGCE, I set to cherry-picking ambitious and challenging vocabulary from dictionaries and academic language guides. It was a monotonous task at best, yet this showed me first-hand just how some students might feel when faced with looking for synonyms in a thesaurus to improve their writing.

Sweet success

With the 2,500 words chosen, I had to decide what to do with them. I had to find a way to get those words to the students. Serendipity needed to rear its head.

Eureka! Kids like competition.

That was it. I would set the whole concept up as a competition and reward students for their efforts. Reward students for diggin’ language. Haribos instantly came to mind.

I decided to set the words out as a list, alphabetically. Then, I numbered each word - 1 through to 2,500.

The idea was to give students random numbers in the lesson and those numbers would indicate to the students the words that would belong to them. It was then the students’ task to use the word in a sentence - either vocally or in writing - before the end of the lesson. If they did, whether used correctly or not, I would award points. Then, the student with the most points at the end of the week would get a prize. Again, Haribos. (They were on offer at the time.)

Would it work? How would I control responses? I couldn’t just have hands shooting up sporadically throughout the lesson, as this would naturally detract from the lesson focus. That’s if any hands went up at all.

A starter activity was the natural remedy.

To this day, the workings of the resource haven’t really changed. Granted, I have jettisoned the makeshift paper resource for a more aesthetically pleasing bound, glossy A5 paperback. But that’s about it. The nuts and bolts, the original idea, the ethos, if you like, remain the same: a competition that detracts from the banal up-levelling synonym hunt that, arguably, we are all guilty of.

One year on from Sabrina and now that I’m an NQT, the resource in question is called “Frank” and it is permeating through the curriculum(s) at my current school. I’m smashing it in key stage 3; key stage 2 is now actively using it; key stages 4 and 5 are adapting it to fit; and perhaps more importantly, kids - yes, actual children - are now diggin’ language.

What was once a taciturn task, was today a fervent linguistc shindig

Today’s lesson was a stellar example of the plan in action. Students were allocated a number as they entered the classroom; they hunted for their words; they recorded these words in the back of their books and then the lesson focused back in on our current novel study: Iqbal by Francesco D’Adamo.

All students used their Frank words in their analysis of the text and points were awarded. Ten minutes before the end of the lesson, however, we all took a break to share our Frank responses. What was once a taciturn task pre-Frank, was today none other than a fervent linguistic shindig.

Ben went first: ‘The author is adept at portraying the shocking conditions of the child workers.”

“Well done, Ben - three points for you.”

The rest of the class record Ben’s response and all students learn from each other.

Next was Will: “The cruel and callous masters who exploit these vulnerable children need to be stopped.”

Will’s on a roll. Six points awarded here. Astutely, Will also used his word from yesterday’s lesson.

Ben scowls across the room.

And so on.

Granted, not all students got the word usage correct, but they were experimenting with new language, so points were still awarded.

‘Utopian’ outcome

Do the kids enjoy it? The reception and progress have been overwhelming. I have the children and colleagues from my school to thank for that: students because they were open to trying out a new idea, and colleagues for giving me the autonomy to run with this initiative.

As originally intended, students see Frank as a competition. And arguably, that is Frank’s biggest strength. Students are now playing with language - experimenting with synonyms that had previously eluded their young lexicons.

My top sets are now describing their holidays as “idyllic” and “utopian”, rather than “good” and “lush”. Lower sets, too, are just as enthusiastic: Michael Morpurgo’s Private Peaceful is no longer a “sad” story, but a “disconsolate” one; the Battle of the Somme is no longer “terrible”, but “wretched”, “callous” and “unscrupulous” - according to Adam, Oscar and Jennifer.

Children now look forward to Frank in my lessons - and thinking about it, I don’t think that I’ve got the authority to take him out of them. He has simply gathered too much momentum: kids are now consciously selecting the best word for the task. Consequently, they are now being candid and more honest in their writing. Literally, kids are now being frank.

Moving forward, I’m enthusiastic to know the impact of this resource if it’s introduced to children early on in key stage 1 and carried through - cross-curricular - key stages 2, 3 and 4. I’m keen to develop solid research strategies that demonstrate Frank’s impact on children’s vocabulary development. I’m keen to do this soon.

However, baby steps.

I must first continue to monitor the progress within the microcosm of my classroom. I must first take further feedback from students and colleagues on how to improve Frank’s efforts.

And I must always ensure that the children understand that Frank’s sole purpose is to provide them with choice in and for language. Or perhaps more eloquently put by Roman philosopher Marcus Tullius Cicero: “It is true that copiousness and facility in expression bear abundant fruit, [but only] if controlled by proper knowledge and a strict discipline of the mind.”

Justin Wardell is a newly qualified teacher of key stage 3 English at Gosforth Junior High Academy, Newcastle upon Tyne