Soporific

I was asked today for the meaning of this word.

I have absolutely no problem supplying a definition – and equally no problem in being asked by a student to provide it. This is not a moan.

What I’m trying to ponder is two-fold: the possible complexity of my language and why a student whom I have known for two and a bit years should seek to ask me for a definition now.

I made a joke about how perhaps a two-hour class after lunch was itself likely to encourage sleep, and asked them to note the use of the word in The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies.  But I was still nagged by the asking.

I don’t think I have changed my vocabulary, although I do know how to use words in different circumstances and with different audiences.  It is more than possible that I am pretentiously latinate (I know both of these are pretentiously latinate words), especially when cornered, although today was a very pleasant discussion with ten of the keenest of our students, those who had braved the rollercoaster of timetabling and stuck with our new module on reading.

Ah. There’s the key. These were students in a quiet, small group, who felt confident in expressing themselves, in asking questions, in asking for definitions. We talked about attitudes to reading, about phonemes and graphemes, Jolly Phonics and an article on under-ones and reading – and the meaning and use of the word soporific. We also looked at a number of research reports from NFER to PIRLS and an odd report on the latest stuff from Save the Children via the Guardian. And then one short excerpt from the PIRLS publication (Ch 6 on School Climate, linked here) struck me:

The PIRLS 2011 School Emphasis on Academic Success scale characterizes five aspects of academic optimism:

•  Teachers’ understanding of the school’s curricular goals;

• Teachers’ degree of success in implementing the school’s curriculum;

•  Teachers’ expectations for student achievement;

•  Parental support for student achievement; and

•  Students’ desire to do well in school.