Students often respond with confusion to questions about social class—not surprising given the common assumption that the US is a “classless society.” The fog surrounding class stratification makes it difficult to teach about economic inequality.
Why is class so challenging to teach about? Compared with race or gender, class is less obviously inscribed on the body and more poorly understood, with more gray areas and fewer shared terms for social categories, making identity development a slower and more fraught process. Class background profoundly affects an individual’s social standpoint (Collins 2000), but most students have only a latent class identity that they have rarely discussed with anyone.
In our decades of work, both as classroom teachers and as facilitators of Freirian popular education workshops (Freire 1970) for community groups through the nonprofit organization Class Action, we have found it constructive to ground conversations in the lived experience of class — not just workplace experience, but students’ and their parents’ educations, parents’ occupations, type of neighborhood and housing, and so on. Before asking students to disclose their class backgrounds, teachers and facilitators can create a welcoming atmosphere by sharing their own class stories from a subject position (Green 2003). In our experience this mutual disclosure creates an electric learning environment (Adams and Bell 2007).
However, there are pitfalls in educators self-revealing their class backgrounds, as we have each found in our educational practice. We are a mixed-class pair of co-authors, one from a poverty background, one from an upper-middle-class background. In this article, we first describe why class disclosure is worth attempting, then we unpack its risks and difficulties and make recommendations. We offer strategies and insights for readers to adapt these methods into their own personal pedagogical practice, while acknowledging the limited nature of any single teacher’s class background.
In Teaching to Transgress (1994), bell hooks suggests that education is a “location of possibility,” noting that “we have the opportunity to labor for freedom, to demand of ourselves and our comrades an openness of mind and heart that allows us to face reality even as we collectively imagine ways to move beyond boundaries to transgress.” This liberatory spirit underlies the pedagogical approach in this article. By fostering cross-class dialogue among students from varied class backgrounds, educators can spark a lively interest in economic inequality, and students and educators can together identify and demystify class privilege and oppression. Acknowledging class diversity invites students of varying backgrounds to feel they have a place in the conversation and a responsibility to be engaged and take action for change.
Why it’s important for educators to share their class stories
By sharing their personal experiences with the class system, educators can encourage students to see classist behavior and inequitable class systems as directly linked to themselves and those they interact with.
If student disclosure follows educator disclosure, then the pedagogical tool of story sharing creates space for student introspection that moves beyond the textbook, making visible the often imperceptible realities of classist systems. As students combine discovery of empirical knowledge of the wider world with dialogue and self-discovery, they come to a fuller understanding of the U.S. class system.
When the educational goals include generating commitment to work for social justice, the immediacy and humanity of discussing first-person lived experience is essential to raising empathetic awareness of any system of oppression. But this is especially true for social class inequality. In teaching gender, we’ve found it easy to draw out students’ experiences with gender-binary socialization. In teaching race, it may be a touchy subject, but once reluctance is overcome, students do in fact have racial identities and experiences to share of racism and cross-race interactions. But with class, most undergraduates and adult learners have not been categorizing their life experiences and relationships in class terms, and do not have a manifest class identity. As a result, when educators attempt to ask evocative questions to generate class-related memories, learners frequently report confusion. Many conflate race and class, for example using the terms “black and white” to refer to the class makeup of their hometown, which renders invisible both professionals of color and white working-class and poor people.
Talking about class is often fraught with deep emotions. Shame, guilt and fear of being judged often inhibit learners from revealing their class stories and fully understanding the experiences of others, particularly for residential college students, who may be experiencing a mixed-class social situation for the first time. In addition, because class identities shift over time as workplace, financial and family situations change, it can be difficult for students to fully identifying with one particular class.
Because of these difficulties in teaching about social class, it’s important to teach it in a personal way, based on lived experience. The multidimensional and intersectional approach taken by the Working Class Studies Association (Zandy 2001; Linkon and Russo 2005) and Class Action encompasses class dynamics in workplaces, schools, families, neighborhoods, unions, activism, culture, psychology and literature, among other areas of life. However, this approach is rare within the field of sociology. Most “race, class and gender” textbooks include only economic topics in the class section, or in some cases have no class section at all, making the word “class” serve the grammatical function of a conjunction connecting race and gender. Critiques of neoliberal capitalism are not the only valuable class analysis. To broaden learners’ class awareness beyond economic inequality to the other dimensions of class and classism requires educator creativity in seeking readings, videos and exercises that bring the topic alive for learners. Because class indicators besides money are unfamiliar to most learners, the educator’s prepared personal stories can inject the needed human element into discussions of class, classism and economic inequality.
We see three main purposes served by educators sharing class life experiences with learners: deepening bonds across roles; illustrating main points; and modeling disclosure to invite student sharing. The first is recommended in most learning situations; the second as needed; and the third only under certain limited circumstances. Each is described below with examples of personal stories one of the authors has shared in an educational setting.
First, educators can break down barriers between themselves and learners by humanizing themselves and by revealing their social standpoint to be similar to or different from each learner’s life experience. Students are already making assumptions about who their educators are, sometimes true, sometimes false, and relating to them as similar or different from themselves. Many of us were taught by distant teachers, presumed to be professional-middle-class, and as a result we have an unconscious expectation that classroom relations will be cool and impersonal. A warmer classroom atmosphere that invites open discussion can result from educators’ class story-sharing. Since personal storytelling is a more prominent mode of expression in many working-class cultures, this warming effect can be especially meaningful to first-generation college students and others from working-class and poverty backgrounds (Leondar-Wright 2014), Frankly sharing one’s class indicators, as well as putting other identities into words, engenders deeper dialogue and often increases mutual respect between educators and learners. Depending on what the educator’s class background is, for each student this disclosure invites either a feeling of solidarity about similarities or a bridge across differences that have lost their taboo by being spoken.
How and why co-author Adj Marshall talks about welfare office lines
When I worked as a college success counselor, many of my students were documented and undocumented immigrants, refugees, and recipients of social support programs. They hailed from the Dominican Republic, Cambodia, Puerto Rico, Haiti, Cote D’Ivoire, Guatemala, Cape Verde and others. Since I am a white woman with the professional status of educator, my students often assumed that we were from completely different worlds, and in some very important ways we were. My family has been in the US for a few generations now, and I do not face the racism that many of them deal with on a daily basis.
Where my childhood experience mirrored my students was in the grueling struggle that is life in poverty and the experience of pursuing college as a first generation college student. Angelika, a young Latina student of mine pursuing her studies in community college while pregnant, was sheepishly providing what she felt would be viewed by me as an unacceptable excuse for why her coursework had been suffering that term. She noted that lines at the welfare office and other social service offices were interfering with her ability to complete her homework. In that moment a compassionate smile appeared on my face, one she would later tell me was a surprising response.
I shared with her my experience of standing in the welfare line each month with my own teen mother waiting some days for hours on end. I described my intuitive childhood knowledge that we were somehow involved in an unfair trade. That of food stamp booklets for bank account statements, dating history and more intimate life details than we would have liked to share. While Angelika and I had established a good working relationship, it was completely altered that day. Our shared social class background became a cementing force in our relationship over the next two years. My sharing earned me Angelika’s respect and buoyed us through our frustrations with one another, reminding us of the humanity in each other. Angelika’s knowledge of my upbringing allowed her to see me as an elder, someone she could share her struggles with and seek advice from. My deeper understanding for her experience allowed me to see her more fully as a whole person.
Second, educator class stories can be used to illustrate the content being taught. Few examples are as compelling as a crafted narrative told in the first person, especially by someone usually in an authority role.
Crafting a story to make a point takes time and effort.. Through years of trial and error and seeking out feedback, the two of us have each unearthed and polished many snippets of our past experience that have served as powerful catalysts in specific educational situations, as the two examples below show.
How and why coauthor Betsy Leondar-Wright shares her childhood crush story
In courses about inequality in the US education system, the idea that high-cultural-capital class cultures are not actually superior can be a tough sell to undergraduates imbued with the educational meritocracy myth (McNamee and Miller 2004). Even after I have them read excerpts from counter-hegemonic class-culture texts that are affirming of the strengths of working-class cultures, such as Lareau’s Unequal Childhoods (2003), Heath’s Ways with Words (1983) and Delpit’s The Skin That We Speak (2003) , many students persist in assuming middle-class superiority, for example referring to “bad English,” “bad parents” and “bad neighborhoods.”
Here’s a story I have told several times to contradict that classist assumption that working-class cultures are only made up of downsides.
“If I had to sum up my upbringing in one word, it would be “sheltered.” I was a nice middle-class Protestant white girl with no exposure to hardship and easily hurt feelings.
“In 6th grade I had an intense crush on a Catholic boy named Marc who lived with his mother in an apartment over a store. Marc had a toughness and verbal agility that filled me with longing. When I was picked on, I just stood there silent. I could write with perfect grammar, but I couldn’t come up with a witty comeback to save my life. Marc met every put-down with a worse put-down, and went up into a bully’s face.
“By the rules of our town I was the fortunate kid, and he was the disadvantaged kid. And in material ways there was truth to that. I went to college, Marc didn’t. The odds are good that my net worth is now higher than his, and that I get more respect for my work than he does.
“But in human terms, Marc and I both had something to give each other. He could have used some of my knowledge about how to get into college. But I needed his thick skin, his assertiveness, and his ability to trash-talk – and I still need it today.
“The truth is that my over-privileged class and ethnic upbringing gave me severe limitations that no-one named.”
Students tend to enjoy this story because it’s about a youthful crush, and afterwards some of them seem to remember the concepts of asset-based and deficit-based depictions of working-class cultures.
Why and how Adj shares her checkout line memories
When teaching about the effects of poverty I struggle to find texts for my students that speak beyond the structural elements of oppression: lack of opportunity for educational attainment, vocational possibility, income earning potential, or access to health care. Rarely are there materials from which my students can learn about or understand the deeply personal and psychological effects of poverty, particularly told from a first person perspective.
To bring this element alive for my students I share a story from my adult life exploring how my upbringing in poverty has inscribed itself on my worldview and still permeates my unconscious.
“ My partner and I were on our weekly pilgrimage to the supermarket, something I could have only dreamed of as a child where shopping occurred once monthly in parallel with the arrival of food stamps and a well timed bus.”
“We navigate to the checkout counter where we begin to place the fruits, vegetables, and dairy products, on the belt. My partner places the Tom’s Toothpaste on the belt amongst the other food items. I immediately move the toothpaste to the back of the belt. This happens repeatedly with the deodorant, laundry detergent and toilet paper while emptying our shopping cart..”
“While we wait for the cashier to finish ringing us up, my partner asks “Why did you keep moving the household items to the back?” He sounds a bit annoyed as if my moving them is a form of judgment on his choice of placement.”
“I respond quickly with “I don’t know exactly. I like similar things to be grouped together” – but before the sentence fully escapes my mouth it occurs to me that I was sorting our groceries in accordance with government benefits requirements.”
“By the age of seven or eight I knew how to identify items that could and could not be bought with food stamps. It was essential to separate items or run the risk of being chastised by the cashier who might announce loudly that ‘you can’t purchase toothpaste with food stamps’.”
“While I know that being poor did not make me less of a person as a child or today, somewhere deep down I still hold the fear of embarrassment that come with being called out as poor.”
When telling this story I hand out copies of food stamps from the era of my childhood. I talk about how visible people on food stamps were with their colorful booklets and the regulations that required one to rip coupons from the book in front of the cashier. For many of my students, who have only known EBT (Electronic Benefit Transfer) cards, this is illuminating, and can lead to discussions about other ways the poor are put on display as the result of policies.
Third, educator stories can encourage learner self-disclosures of class background experiences, which is eye-opening for story-teller and listener alike.
Student sharing of personal class stories is a potent but high-risk activity for certain settings only. If the teacher or facilitator goes first, he or she can model deeper ways of sharing that learners may then replicate, for example by revealing emotions, avoiding stereotypes, adding race or gender intersections, and drawing lessons and conclusions from stories. By introducing nuance, these moments of personal sharing serve as a guide for students on how to share reflections on class that are grounded in lived personal experience.
In higher education settings, the default assumption is that everyone is or soon will be a college-educated professional. The discovery that some students and/or the professor come from a working-class or poverty background shakes up those assumptions, disrupts the middle-class norm and the othering of class-disadvantaged people.
The sharing of personal stories by educators can reassure students that their experiences are valid forms of expressions within the classroom. On the other hand, it can also raise discomfort in others whose class story is different, leading to the difficulties discussed in the next section.
Why and how co-author Betsy Leondar-Wright describes her teenage affluence
Sometimes the most valuable thing I do at classism workshops or during classroom social class units is to describe my teen years factually and in a relaxed tone. When I say calmly, “When I was 15, my dad hit the jackpot in the bond market, so my parents moved to a 15-room house, took us to Europe, and sent me to prep school and an Ivy League college,” it gives the message that ‘we can be real about class differences here’.
I make it very clear that that my family’s upward mobility didn’t make us better people than others – and it didn’t make us worse people either. It’s just where my story happens to fit into a terribly unjust system that I’m not to blame for, but that I can work to change, as everyone can.
Sharing that part of my story creates a space that’s welcoming for other very privileged people in particular. I watch their shoulders lower and their faces brighten up, and they become more open to honest disclosure and cross-class dialogue.
The perils and pitfalls of sharing educators’ class stories
In a culture where speaking about social class is taboo, teaching students to look at the world through an anti-classist approach can be a difficult and emotionally fraught process, one full of pain, fear, and embarrassment. Despite what’s difficult about social class story sharing, we believe that the extra effort needed to bring educators’ personal experiences with the class system into the classroom is worth the benefits.
Through our many years of sharing personal class stories, we have discovered some potential pitfalls. Here we identify the pitfalls and provide advice on avoiding and counteracting these potential hazards. These include being clear about your purpose; taking steps to mine and assemble a story; anticipating difficult learner reactions; scaffolding and timing stories well; and, lastly, taking care in preparing to invite self disclosure.
Knowing your purpose, being explicit, and strengthening the container
Being explicit about the goals is one of the simplest ways of avoiding pitfalls in the practice of story sharing. When choosing to employ class story sharing it is essential that educators be explicit about the end goal for the story sharing with themselves and their students. We have both had classes and workshops veer far from the intended path because we were not clear about the reasons for sharing our personal stories.
When the two of us share a personal class story to make a point about a reading, we often preface it with our intention: “The author speaks about X in her text; one example from my personal life that illustrates X is… .”
If your purpose is to invite students to engage in self disclosure, it is important you are clear this is what you are asking of students. We authors have both started classes by stating “In sharing my story here, I have modeled how I hope you will share your own stories, if you choose to.” Because class stories are quite personal and students may be wary of sharing them, it is important to set up a strong container of safety and confidentiality (Lakey 2010). For example, state explicitly that students are not required to share, and that students may specify whether what is said may be repeated outside the classroom.
Preparing your stories
While educators can never be fully prepared for the myriad potential student responses, there are things you can do to prepare yourself. Failure to prepare sufficiently for telling a personal story can result in fizzling, backfiring, or veering off track from the intended course. We have found that sharing and responding to students in a powerful yet inclusive manner requires a well crafted story that has been vetted by others.
One’s own emotions about childhood memories can be triggered by sharing them raw and unprocessed. It’s important to do your own work first before bringing class stories into the classroom. Start by writing down your own class memories. Participation in a cross-class dialogue group (Koch-Gonzalez et al. 2009) is an ideal way to work through your own memories and emotions and find the nuggets of your history that could serve educational purposes. Then we suggest sharing your story with fellow educators, ideally two or more from distinctly different class backgrounds, to solicit feedback before bringing it to the classroom.
Seek out feedback and comments from colleagues about how students from different class backgrounds at your institution might respond. When you build up your network of collaborators, they may be willing share their own class stories in your classroom, providing students with a broader view of the class system than can be provided through your story alone.
Anticipating difficult reactions
When sharing our stories, we have encountered widely different reactions from our students and participants, including some difficult or negative reactions. Students may shut down, get confused, be triggered or become too defensive for dialogue or learning. We have observed that educators may be viewed as antagonists by students from differing class backgrounds than that revealed by the educator. Educators of all backgrounds may lose some credibility after sharing their stories; and those from working-class or poverty backgrounds may encounter a classist lowering of status in the eyes of some students.
While educators’ stories about a childhood of poverty are often deeply meaningful to students from similar backgrounds, and eye-opening to students from more privileged backgrounds, such stories have also been met with incredulous responses by students.
For example, co-author Marshall has heard, “See, the system works, you were upwardly mobile” from low income students. First-generation college students in particular can see themselves as at the beginning stages of upward mobility, and as a result may be especially attached to the American Dream ideology of rising through education. Deconstructing this ideal can be a hard sell, threatening to students’ personal hopes. Marshall also notes, “As someone who has ‘made it out’ I have to be wary of becoming the unscathed poster child for escaping poverty. When starry-eyed middle- and upper-class students ask ‘how did you do it?’ I speak frankly about the painful reality of transcending my class background and what I lost in the assimilation process of becoming upwardly mobile. I point out to students that everything is not perfect now that I am part of the professional middle class in some senses it is so much more complicated to straddle two class realities.” (Lubrano, 2004)
Co-author Leondar-Wright finds that the middle-class part of her life story, through age 15, is often met with boredom. She notes, “Few people are interested in hearing how I grew up in a nice little 6 room house and attended a decent suburban public school.” In response she has learned to politicize her middle-class story by speaking about the unfair advantages of her middle class upbringing, in comparison to her working class peers. For other middle class educators as well, there may be no dramatic secrets to reveal, and the educator’s basic story can come across as uninteresting.
Stories of wealth and luxury tend to hold learners’ attention and can counteract the presumption that there is no space for socioeconomically privileged student voices in discussions of class. By introducing three-dimensional stories with human flaws, such as Leondar-Wright’s stories boxed above, the myth that the upper-middle-class culture is the ideal for all to aspire to can be shattered. And on the other hand, the archetype of the greedy, evil rich can also shaken up by an actual privileged person’s story.
Disclosing a privileged background, however, can sometimes alienate working-class and poverty-background students, and may discredit the educator with students as not having a valid standing to teach about class oppression. After describing her affluent late teenage years in a calm, factual tone (as in the boxed examples above), Leondar-Wright has occasionally heard students infer meanings that are clearly projections of their own emotions: “Why do you feel so guilty?”; “I don’t think you should put down rich people!”; and even “Nice for you, but not everyone got to travel, you know!” Owning-class and top 1% educators may get even stronger reactions.
Whereas an educator from a working-class or poverty-class background challenges classist stereotypes simply by their presence in the classroom, a privileged-class educator’s presence may reinforce stereotypes about who can become a professional – an assumption that needs to be problematized.
Productive discussions can grow out of initial negative student responses. The further towards the either end of the class spectrum an educator’s background falls, the more time will be needed for discussion and debriefing. We acknowledge the limited effectiveness of any single educator’s class background story and suggest a teaching methodology that allow for a more diverse educator team.
Personal class stories work best for student learning when there are two educators with backgrounds at different ends of the class spectrum, with contrasting amounts of privilege or hardship in childhood and adolescence. A racially mixed team is ideal as well.
Hearing a story more similar to their own greatly increases learners’ sense of safety to take risks and the likelihood of ‘aha’ moments. Those from backgrounds of poverty or wealth especially, but others as well, tend to share more deeply after listening to an educator from their own part of the class spectrum.
When co-educators model an attitude of warm, respectful listening towards each other it can open a crack in unproductive responses based on stereotypes and unprocessed emotions, such as pity, guilt, envy and resentment. To see a co-educator from a very different background give rapt attention to the other’s story helps establish learning from diverse class stories as a legitimate use of group time and focus.
In typical classroom settings with one professor, this ideal of co-educators may seem difficult to achieve. A colleague from a different class background can be invited in to co-teach a session or module. To know whom to invite means opening up sometimes fraught conversations with colleagues about class life stories, which can deepen relationships and create a more class-aware working environment.
Scaffolding and timing stories
If educators’ personal stories lie far outside the lived experience of their students, it is important to consider when to share. If such a story is introduced too early it can cause the students to clam up or not speak openly about their views for fear of offending. It is essential that students are practiced with the tools of responding in a productive manner before introducing them to stories from the extremes of the class spectrum. The same is true of introducing personal stories that convey complex social class concepts.
Because students have a particularly limited experience engaging with their class identity and the class identity of others, educators should consider how they scaffold stories and activities, ensuring to the best of their abilities that students have the background knowledge and social emotional readiness to engage with the content presented.
Why and when co-author Adj Marshall reveals her family’s homelessness experiences
When teaching courses on homelessness I often choose not to reveal the fact that I was part of a homeless family until well into the semester, or even well into the chosen text. With Donna Haig-Friedman’s Parenting in Public: Family Shelter and Public Assistance (2000), I often assign it mid-course to late in the course. I explicitly choose to do this because I want students to speak openly in an unfiltered way, constructing and sharing their views, and not hiding their biases towards parents living in shelters.
It can be a learning moment for students when I share my story of homelessness, bringing the ‘other’ that we have spent the semester talking ‘about’ into the classroom as an individual that students are speaking to. The practice of holding back information can be received with strong reactions by students. Some students are upset, others feel embarrassed or self conscious about things they said or how I might interpret their views. Sometimes students respond with shock having believed this is an issue that affects only ‘other people’. Still others express appreciation for the added element of personal insight brought to the class. By choosing to share this story later in the course, I am able to diversify the variety of student responses and allow students the context and time needed to processes and respond to such information while recognizing that it can sometimes be difficult for students to hear.
As classism educators, we find that simple digestible stories to which most students can relate can be a good place to begin. As we move throughout the semester, we share more complex and nuanced content, as in the example below.
How and when co-author Betsy Leondar-Wright shares her politeness socialization
Class culture differences are hard to teach in the abstract without stereotyping. In Streib’s book about mixed-class marriages, The Power of the Past (2015), she found that the middle-class spouses tended to plan and manage family life, while the working-class spouses tended to value spontaneity. To introduce this class cultural pattern, near the beginning of the module, I say something about myself that will get less resistance than a generalization, such as: “Growing up middle class, I was taught to quash my emotions and be polite at all times, so it’s still hard for me today to be spontaneously expressive.”
But because class cultures are such an unfamiliar concept, I always wait to offer that self-disclosure until students have already engaged in some basic reading on the topic.
Successful scaffolding involves gradually increasing the risk level of the classroom activities. Inviting self-disclosure of class background from students falls high on the risk spectrum by opening a well of class-based emotional trauma that educators may not be prepared to respond to. In the worst case scenario, judgmental or mocking student responses to someone’s story may devastate the student. Sometimes not encouraging self-disclosure is the best option. For some groups, preparing a class to discuss class identities may take almost an entire semester, while others may spontaneously dive in early. Ensuring your students are prepared and feel safe disclosing is the most essential part of the process.
We have found that questions about other families, not students’ own childhood settings, are low-risk enough to ask at the beginning of a course module or workshop. One starter question we have found works well is “What’s your first memory of a family that had more or less class privilege than your family?” While most students may have only a latent class identity, they can often pinpoint moments when they have noticed having more or less class advantage than others. Thus asking students this simple question can be a relatively nonthreatening introduction to sharing surface-level experiences of class with peers.
We advise not to expect or actively invite personal self-disclosure in any situation where participants could face consequences for not participating. Having adequate time to debrief what students share is essential, so we also do not advise self disclosure in brief sessions when there’s little time to discuss emotional reactions.
The best possible situation is one in which power dynamics have been mitigated as much as possible and confidentiality ground rules have been set for both inside and outside the classroom. Ideally students will have been prepared with adequate materials and activities necessary to allow for constructive ways of disclosing and responding. In these situations inviting class background self disclosure can broaden student perspectives on social class, allow for personal introspection about class advantage and disadvantage in relation intersecting identities, and turn economic inequality from a dry topic into a subject for heartfelt engagement.
In this article we have advocated a high-risk addition to the pedagogy of social class, but one with high potential for student transformation.
Even the students who seem to have the least class consciousness do in fact have class-related memories, and they are in fact aware of class stratification. The challenge, which Paulo Freire (1970) took on with Brazilian peasants, is to uncover and politicize that awareness and channel it towards liberatory action. The popular education tradition has provided us with a model in which students and educators share life experiences and unpack them for the purpose of understanding the stratified social world and ideally working to change it.
By deeply exploring your own class life stories, crafting them into purposeful vignettes, being vulnerable with your students and inviting them to do the same, you can open a door to powerful cross-class dialogue.
Published in Kristin Haltinner and Leontina Hormel, Eds. (2018) Teaching Economic Inequality and Capitalism in Contemporary America, Springer Nature


AN ASSESSMENT OF SPELLING ERRORS IN WRITTEN ENGLISH LANGUAGE OF JUNIOR SECONDARY SCHOOLS
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Background to the Study
Language is a system of conventional spoken, manual or written symbols by means of which human beings, as member of a social group and participants in it’s culture, express themselves.
The functions of language include communication, the expression of identity, play, imaginative expression and emotional release.
Henry sweet (2010) stated “language is the expression of ideas by means of speech-sounds combined into words. Words are combined into taughts”.
Bernard Bloch and George L. Trager (2010) formulated the following definition:
“A language is e system of arbitrary vocal symbols by means of which a social group cooperates”.
Any succinct definition of language makes a number of presuppositions and begs a number of questions.
The first, for example, puts excessive weight on “taught”, and the second uses “arbitrary” in a specialized, though legimate, way.
Nigeria being a multilingual country with over four hundred (400) languages already, received an additional language which is English language in the sixteenth century from the Great Britain, by the colonial masters whom were in Nigeria to propagate Christianity, trade and take over the entire Nigerian administration.
This marks the introduction of the English language in the Nigerian history and thus added to the multilingual existence of the Nigerians.
Medubi (2013) posits that English language came into Nigeria with the British settlers (in the sixteenth century) whose expansionist programmes saw them colonise a good number of countries all over the world.
The interaction of the British settlers and the Nigerian natives resulted in birth of pidgin, a broken form of English that ease communication difficulties between the two peoples.
However, with the complete appropriation of the Nigerian land as a colonial territory, Britain introduced the English language as the lani of administration.
During these times also, the missionaries who needed to communicate with converts introduced the learning of English language for Bible reading, thus, forming the rudiments of the educational system (Medubi, 2013).
This laid the foundation of literacy skills of reading and writing in the English language curriculum in Nigeria.
English language occupies a prominent place in the Nigerian school curriculum to the extent that it is stated in Federal Ministry of Education secondary Education Curriculum (2007) that no student can proceed to the tertiary level without a credit pass in English Language.
As one of the legacies bequeathed to Nigerians by the British, it will be very difficult to do away with it because it is the major medium of instruction in our schools, business transaction, and communication both nationally and internationally.
The term ‘curriculum’ has different interpretations among scholars.
Olorundare (2003) viewed curriculum as the sum total of all experiences a pupil undergoes in school.
Offorma(2006) defined curriculum as a structured series of learning experiences intended for the education of the learner.
Ivowi(2008) viewed curriculum as a tool designed for educating a person in order to change the orientation behavior, actions and values to that of a good person whose concern is not only to develop self but also the world around.
To Epo and Osam (2009), curriculum is a graded course of different subject taken from the nursery school to the university.
Thus all what students do or learn at school from the day they are admitted into school to the day they leave school may be referred to as curriculum.
It is a continuous process of a conscious insight into the life of the society by the school with a view to bring about improvement.
In the light of the above definitions, certain steps are vital in the formation of effective and attainable mains, goals and objectives of a curriculum which the English language curriculum adopted.
The English language curriculum for the secondary school was designed generally towards the achievement level of a high level of proficiency in the Nigerian students’ use of English language.
The English language curriculum in both basic and post basic levels of education encompasses several areas such as: reading/comprehension, speech, vocabulary development, handwriting, phonics instruction, composition/creative writing, summary writing, lexis/structure, oral English/pronunciation among others.
All these areas have their aims and objectives. On the goals and objectives of English language curriculum, Amuseghan (2007) stated that one would expect English as a second language (ESL) learner in the Nigerian context, after nine or twelve solid years of learning English and using it for instruction at the primary and secondary levels to become academically, linguistically and communicatively competent in social contexts beyond the school, which is the ultimate goal of the prescribed English language curriculum as the secondary level.
There has been an increase in spelling research in the past years due to importance spelling has on literacy acquisition (e.g. Conrad, 2008; Kwong & Varnhagen, 2005; Treiman & Bourassa, 2000).
Spelling is important for literacy because of its close relationships with reading and writing.
Spelling supports reading because two processes are reciprocally related and they both follow a similar course of acquisition (Ehri, 2000).Spelling supports writing.
This is because “spelling and text production in later grades will require that students can automatically and legibly write alphabet letters and match sounds in words to associated spelling patterns”(Ritchey, 2008, p.44).
Spelling also plays an important role in our daily lives.
It is necessary in various occasions which range from undemanding tasks such as: filing alphabetically; looking up words in a phone book, dictionary, writing notes that others can read; and even playing parlor games(2005).
Spelling is a complex cognitive activity in which several mental processes are involved.
Spelling also plays an important role in every learners live.
This is because Part of what determines a learner’s proficiency in English language is his/her ability to spell correctly for accurate expression.
No matter how fluent a speaker may be, without a good mastering of spelling, it will be considered a great error.
According to Wiktionary, error is the state, quality, or condition of being wrong.
In applied linguistics, an error is a deviation from accepted rules of a language made by a learner of a second language.
Richards and Schmidt (2002:pg.184) define error analysis as” the study and analysis of the errors made by second language learners.
” Another view of error analysis is given by Brown (1989, cited by Hashim, 2002:43), when he defines error analysis as the process of observing, analyzing, and classifying the deviations of the rules of the second language and then to reveal the systems operated by a learner.
Brown (2000):217) also insists that “mistakes must be carefully distinguished from errors of a second language learner”.
He defines an error as “a noticeable deviation from the adult grammar of a native speaker” which also reflects the competence of the learner.
He continues to explain that” a mistake refers to a performance error that is either a random guess or a ‘slip’, in that it is a failure to utilize a known system correctly” and ” mistakes, when attention is called to them, can be self-corrected.
Brown (2002:220) differentiate between covert and overt errors.
They define covert errors to be grammatically correct but not interpretable within the context of communication, whereas overt errors refer to the obviously ungrammatical utterances.
Brown (2000: 217) also insists that “mistakes must be carefully distinguished from errors of a second language learner”.
He defines an error as “a noticeable deviation from the adult grammar of a native speaker” which also reflects the competence of the learner.
He continues to explain that “a mistake refers to a performance error that is either a random guess or a ‘slip’, in that it is a failure to utilize a known system correctly” and “mistakes, when attention is called to them, can be self-corrected”.
Errors, on the other hand, often indicate the learner’s competence in the target language and they are ‘evidence’ which can reflect the learner’s language proficiency.
“The fact that learners do make errors, and that these errors can be observed, analyzed, and classified to reveal something of the system operating within the learner, led to a surge of study of learner’s error, called error analysis” (ibid.: 218).
This is the next topic of discussion in the following sections. 2.3.4 Goals and definitions of Error Analysis Error Analysis is a theory replacing the Contrastive Analysis, which was abandoned by linguists and teachers due to its in effectivity and unreliability.
EA also belongs to applied linguistics but it has no interest in explaining the process of L2 acquisition. It is rather “a 17 methodology for dealing with data.”
Error Analysis Error analysis is an activity to reveal errors found in writing and speaking (Hasyim, 2002, p.43).
Similarly, Barzegar (2013) stated “error analysis is a procedure used both researcher and teachers which involves collecting samples of learner language, identifying the error in the sample, describing these errors, classifying them according to their nature and causes, and evaluating their seriousness” (p. 322).
The other definition states that error analysis is a type of linguistic analysis that focuses on the errors learners make (AbiSamr 12 The other opinion comes from Hasyim (2002) who stated that Error analysis is advantageous for both learners and teachers.
Besides, benefit for students, error analysis is needed to show them in what aspect in grammar which is difficult for them, while for teachers, it is required to evaluate themselves whether they are successful or not in teaching.
Thus, error analysis should not be neglected in foreign language teaching. (p.42-43).
Thus, the definition explains that error analysis is a technique to investigate an error word and sentence in writing or speaking form.
Spelling Error Botley, Hakim and Dillah (2007) stated, “spelling error are highly ubiquitous and contentious features of second language learners’ written performance” (p.75).
The other definition of spelling error is given by Al-jarf (2010); he said “Any faulty words, faulty graphemes (single vowel, single consonant, vowel digraphs, consonant digraphs, phonogram, suffix or prefix) within a word are counted as an error.
Any graphemes that are added, deleted, substituted by another or reversed are counted as misspellings”. (p.9).
Spelling error usually occurs because the students cannot distinguish between letters and sound of the word when they write.
According to Perveen & Akram (2014), “Sounds, letters, word parts, word meaning, and word history are those elements which play the important role in learning to spell the words of English 13 language” (p.2605). Similarly,
“A single sound (or more correctly, a single phoneme) may have many different spelling (paw, poor, pore, pour, daughter, Sean), and the same spelling may have many different sound (or, word, information, worry, correspond)” (Harmer, 2001, p.256).
Spelling error still appears in large number in writing producing by learner; even drilling and training technique did in every school or university (Botley et al, 2007).
According to Benyo (2014), spelling errors are due to these sound problems.
The other statement, “One of the reasons that spelling is difficult for students of English is that the correspondence between the sound of a word and the way it is spelt is not always obvious (Harmer, 2001, p.271).
The other statement given by Al-zuoud & Kabilan, (2013) stated, many students produce misspelled word, which result in disconnected sentence.
The importance of spelling is not limited to individuals whose first language is English, but to English language learners as well.
The development of the English language learners’ spelling differs from those whose first language is English.
It has been well-established in literature today that unlike English monolinguals, language learners use knowledge of their first language when they learn to spell in English. Since language learners use their knowledge of their first language in learning to spell in English, the proficiency level of the first language is closely related the acquisition of second language spelling.
According to Brisk and Harrington (2000), “literacy skills are acquired only once through one language and then applied to new languages” (p. 4).
The problem of poor spelling seems to be ubiquitous.
It is apparent at all grade levels and in practically every school. When poor spelling is uncorrected for many students, they carry it with them into the work world or college classroom, where employers and professors must face it.
“Some people just aren’t good spellers,” one teacher excuses the problem, “just as some people aren’t good at math or history. The ability to spell well is a gift.”
“Her brothers weren’t good spellers, either,” another teacher might say, concluding that poor spelling must have a genetic cause.
To address the problem, however, we must recognize its magnitude, acknowledge people equate a Southern or Midwestern farm accent with ignorance.
Although neither assumption is necessarily valid, the stigma affects one’s image or reputation and often determines what one can achieve in life.
Do we continue to go through life denigrating and berating—or excusing—the poor spellers and blaming others for their predicament?
Do we continue to pass them along to the next higher grade, hoping that somewhere between our class and graduation someone will manage miraculously to “get through to” them and teach them how to spell? No, it is not a hopeless case, and no, we don’t have to resign ourselves to having poor spellers as a matter of course.
Not if we understand the factors that contribute to poor spelling and take the steps necessary to solve the problem.
The Contributing Factors Postulated No single cause can be cited for every poor speller’s predicament.
Rather, a plethora of factors contribute to the problem. For some people, one factor is predominant; for other people, several factors are involved in creating their problem.
An understanding of each factor will help teachers identify poor spellers, diagnose their predominating factors, and apply a proper solution.
Intelligence and Organizational Skills Marilyn vos Savant (2000) writes, “When your spelling is perfect, it is invisible— the reader has no reason to notice it unless it’s wrong.
But when it goes wrong, it spurs strong associations in the mind of the reader, even when he or she isn’t aware of them.
Although many people, knowingly or subconsciously, equate spelling ability with intelligence, that association does not seem to be validated by facts. “Spelling ability has nothing to do with intelligence,” Sorsby (1996) declared.
“It has a lot to do with developing a familiarity with words, an ability to recognize them and, equally important, a similar ability to recognize when they don’t ‘look right.’
” Although good spelling is a mark of a well-educated person, and the opposite can cost one a job, a raise, or a promotion, it is not necessarily a sign of low intelligence not to spell well.
Rather, vos Savant (2000) indicates that spelling ability is more closely related to “our organizational habits and other personality traits than our intelligence.
” Proving her claim, she found in a survey of 42,603 readers that “If you’re a top speller, you’re more likely to be more intelligent than average, better able to follow instructions than average, and more organized than average.
On the other hand, if you’re a bottom speller, your general intelligence and ability to follow directions are not likely to be lower than average, but you are more likely to be less organized.
Marsand and Griffith (1974) warn, “Memorizing the rules will not be of much help unless you apply them.”
7. Encourage the use of easily remembered helps such as, “Write i before e, except after c, or when sounded like a, as in ‘neighbor’ and ‘weigh.’ ” 8. Emphasize handwriting legibility in students’ writing activities.
9. Encourage reading. 10. Have the students keep a notebook of their misspelled words or words that have given them trouble. Review them periodically, and practice spelling them regularly. 11.
Help students develop the habit of looking up words whenever they are uncertain of their correct spellings.
12. Teach, enforce, and encourage rigorous proofreading. 13. Provide opportunities for students to check their own (or others’) work. AVKO (2000) states, “Of all the spelling techniques currently employed, immediate student self-correction is generally the most effective.”
14. Make the spelling words relevant. Learn spelling within a context.” (Hamilton Public Library, 2004). Introduce words that they are actually using in their current reading or study or that are in the news.
Use words that include subjects that are of interest to them.
15. Study the etymology of words and roots, prefixes, and suffixes; and encourage students to learn the meanings of words.
16. Help students to form a mental picture of individual syllables and then to fit those pieces together into whole words. 17. Provide both intrinsic and extrinsic motivational rewards for successful spelling.
Do not punish poor spelling; encourage correct spelling.
18. Play crossword and Scrabble-type games to increase spelling ability and increase vocabulary.
19. Emphasize spelling across the curriculum and at all grade levels.
As a child learns meanings, stretching his vocabulary, he understands more of what he reads.
When he writes, he now has more words to choose from to find that perfect word. And because he has learned to spell by seeing and using patterns, he can come up with a word that he hasn’t been taught, just because it makes sense.
If spelling is only something the child sees as a random list of words to spell correctly on Friday’s test, he will miss all of these benefits.
” Conclusion In many of our schools today, formal spelling instruction ceases in the upper elementary grades.
In many other schools, spelling instruction is isolated as “the English teacher’s job,” and teachers of other subjects complain bitterly about students’ inability to spell correctly—but, feeling helpless, they do nothing about it.
Perhaps it is time to address the problem at all levels and across the entire curriculum.
The solution lies not in merely following the right rules in laying the right foundation in the early elementary grades; it lies in reinforcing those lessons throughout the child’s educational career.
It requires a team effort by everyone.
Statement of the Problem
Many researchers have written on the spelling error in the written English of Junior secondary schools.
In order to master literacy, one must not only be able to read and write, but to spell as well (MCardle, Chhabra, & Kapinus, 2008).
There has been an increase in spelling research in the past years due to the importance spelling has on literacy acquisition e.g (Conrad,2008, Kwong &Varnhagen,2005, Treiman & Brourassa, 2000).
Spelling is important for literacy because the two processes are reciprocally related and the both follow a similar course of acquisition (Ehri, 2000).
Spelling supports writing, this is because “text production in later grades will require that students can automatically and legibly write alphabet letters and match sound in words to associated spelling patterns”(Ritchey, 2008:44).
The researcher, having discovered the spelling errors in the written English in the works of many researchers, hereby focuses this research work on the spelling errors in the written English of junior secondary schools in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Ogun State, Nigeria.
Purpose of the Study
The purpose of this study focused on the analysis of spelling errors in written English of junior secondary schools students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Ogun State, Nigeria. The study found out:
1. The common spelling errors in written English of junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Ogun State, Nigeria.
2. To investigate the spelling errors in written English of Junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Nigeria based on gender.
3. To investigate the spelling errors in written English of junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Ogun State Nigeria based on school type.
4. To investigate the spelling errors in the written English of junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area of Ogun State Nigeria based on school location.
The following research questions were raised in order to guide the study.
1. What are the common spelling errors in the written English of Junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area Ogun State, Nigeria?
2. Is there any difference in the spelling errors found in the written English of male and female junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area Ogun State?
3. Is there any difference in the spelling errors found in the written English of private and public junior secondary school students in Abeokuta South Local Government Area Ogun State?


- Identify the major technological changes in radio as a medium since its inception.
- Explain the defining characteristics of radio’s Golden Age.
- Describe the effects of networks and conglomerates on radio programming and culture.
At its most basic level, radio is communication through the use of radio waves. This includes radio used for person-to-person communication as well as radio used for mass communication. Both of these functions are still practiced today. Although most people associate the term radio with radio stations that broadcast to the general public, radio wave technology is used in everything from television to cell phones, making it a primary conduit for person-to-person communication.
The Invention of Radio
Guglielmo Marconi is often credited as the inventor of radio. As a young man living in Italy, Marconi read a biography of Hienrich Hertz, who had written and experimented with early forms of wireless transmission. Marconi then duplicated Hertz’s experiments in his own home, successfully sending transmissions from one side of his attic to the other (PBS). He saw the potential for the technology and approached the Italian government for support. When the government showed no interest in his ideas, Marconi moved to England and took out a patent on his device. Rather than inventing radio from scratch, however, Marconi essentially combined the ideas and experiments of other people to make them into a useful communications tool (Coe, 1996).
In fact, long-distance electronic communication has existed since the middle of the 19th century. The telegraph communicated messages through a series of long and short clicks. Cables across the Atlantic Ocean connected even the far-distant United States and England using this technology. By the 1870s, telegraph technology had been used to develop the telephone, which could transmit an individual’s voice over the same cables used by its predecessor.
When Marconi popularized wireless technology, contemporaries initially viewed it as a way to allow the telegraph to function in places that could not be connected by cables. Early radios acted as devices for naval ships to communicate with other ships and with land stations; the focus was on person-to-person communication. However, the potential for broadcasting—sending messages to a large group of potential listeners—wasn’t realized until later in the development of the medium.
The technology needed to build a radio transmitter and receiver was relatively simple, and the knowledge to build such devices soon reached the public. Amateur radio operators quickly crowded the airwaves, broadcasting messages to anyone within range and, by 1912, incurred government regulatory measures that required licenses and limited broadcast ranges for radio operation (White). This regulation also gave the president the power to shut down all stations, a power notably exercised in 1917 upon the United States’ entry into World War I to keep amateur radio operators from interfering with military use of radio waves for the duration of the war (White).
Wireless technology made radio as it is known today possible, but its modern, practical function as a mass communication medium had been the domain of other technologies for some time. As early as the 1880s, people relied on telephones to transmit news, music, church sermons, and weather reports. In Budapest, Hungary, for example, a subscription service allowed individuals to listen to news reports and fictional stories on their telephones (White). Around this time, telephones also transmitted opera performances from Paris to London. In 1909, this innovation emerged in the United States as a pay-per-play phonograph service in Wilmington, Delaware (White). This service allowed subscribers to listen to specific music recordings on their telephones (White).
In 1906, Massachusetts resident Reginald Fessenden initiated the first radio transmission of the human voice, but his efforts did not develop into a useful application (Grant, 1907). Ten years later, Lee de Forest used radio in a more modern sense when he set up an experimental radio station, 2XG, in New York City. De Forest gave nightly broadcasts of music and news until World War I halted all transmissions for private citizens (White).
Radio’s Commercial Potential
After the World War I radio ban lifted with the close of the conflict in 1919, a number of small stations began operating using technologies that had developed during the war. Many of these stations developed regular programming that included religious sermons, sports, and news (White). As early as 1922, Schenectady, New York’s WGY broadcast over 40 original dramas, showing radio’s potential as a medium for drama. The WGY players created their own scripts and performed them live on air. This same groundbreaking group also made the first known attempt at television drama in 1928 (McLeod, 1998).
Businesses such as department stores, which often had their own stations, first put radio’s commercial applications to use. However, these stations did not advertise in a way that the modern radio listener would recognize. Early radio advertisements consisted only of a “genteel sales message broadcast during ‘business’ (daytime) hours, with no hard sell or mention of price (Sterling & Kittross, 2002).” In fact, radio advertising was originally considered an unprecedented invasion of privacy, because—unlike newspapers, which were bought at a newsstand—radios were present in the home and spoke with a voice in the presence of the whole family (Sterling & Kittross, 2002). However, the social impact of radio was such that within a few years advertising was readily accepted on radio programs. Advertising agencies even began producing their own radio programs named after their products. At first, ads ran only during the day, but as economic pressure mounted during the Great Depression in the 1930s, local stations began looking for new sources of revenue, and advertising became a normal part of the radio soundscape (Sterling & Kittross, 2002).
The Rise of Radio Networks
Not long after radio’s broadcast debut, large businesses saw its potential profitability and formed networks. In 1926, RCA started the National Broadcasting Network (NBC). Groups of stations that carried syndicated network programs along with a variety of local shows soon formed its Red and Blue networks. Two years after the creation of NBC, the United Independent Broadcasters became the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) and began competing with the existing Red and Blue networks (Sterling & Kittross, 2002).
Although early network programming focused mainly on music, it soon developed to include other programs. Among these early innovations was the variety show. This format generally featured several different performers introduced by a host who segued between acts. Variety shows included styles as diverse as jazz and early country music. At night, dramas and comedies such as Amos ’n’ Andy, The Lone Ranger, and Fibber McGee and Molly filled the airwaves. News, educational programs, and other types of talk programs also rose to prominence during the 1930s (Sterling & Kittross, 2002).
The Radio Act of 1927
In the mid-1920s, profit-seeking companies such as department stores and newspapers owned a majority of the nation’s broadcast radio stations, which promoted their owners’ businesses (ThinkQuest). Nonprofit groups such as churches and schools operated another third of the stations. As the number of radio stations outgrew the available frequencies, interference became problematic, and the government stepped into the fray.
The Radio Act of 1927 established the Federal Radio Commission (FRC) to oversee regulation of the airwaves. A year after its creation, the FRC reallocated station bandwidths to correct interference problems. The organization reserved 40 high-powered channels, setting aside 37 of these for network affiliates. The remaining 600 lower-powered bandwidths went to stations that had to share the frequencies; this meant that as one station went off the air at a designated time, another one began broadcasting in its place. The Radio Act of 1927 allowed major networks such as CBS and NBC to gain a 70 percent share of U.S. broadcasting by the early 1930s, earning them $72 million in profits by 1934 (McChesney, 1992). At the same time, nonprofit broadcasting fell to only 2 percent of the market (McChesney, 1992).
In protest of the favor that the 1927 Radio Act showed toward commercial broadcasting, struggling nonprofit radio broadcasters created the National Committee on Education by Radio to lobby for more outlets. Basing their argument on the notion that the airwaves—unlike newspapers—were a public resource, they asserted that groups working for the public good should take precedence over commercial interests. Nevertheless, the Communications Act of 1934 passed without addressing these issues, and radio continued as a mainly commercial enterprise (McChesney, 1992).
The Golden Age of Radio
The so-called Golden Age of Radio occurred between 1930 and the mid-1950s. Because many associate the 1930s with the struggles of the Great Depression, it may seem contradictory that such a fruitful cultural occurrence arose during this decade. However, radio lent itself to the era. After the initial purchase of a receiver, radio was free and so provided an inexpensive source of entertainment that replaced other, more costly pastimes, such as going to the movies.
Radio also presented an easily accessible form of media that existed on its own schedule. Unlike reading newspapers or books, tuning in to a favorite program at a certain time became a part of listeners’ daily routine because it effectively forced them to plan their lives around the dial.
Daytime Radio Finds Its Market
During the Great Depression, radio became so successful that another network, the Mutual Broadcasting Network, began in 1934 to compete with NBC’s Red and Blue networks and the CBS network, creating a total of four national networks (Cashman, 1989). As the networks became more adept at generating profits, their broadcast selections began to take on a format that later evolved into modern television programming. Serial dramas and programs that focused on domestic work aired during the day when many women were at home. Advertisers targeted this demographic with commercials for domestic needs such as soap (Museum). Because they were often sponsored by soap companies, daytime serial dramas soon became known as soap operas. Some modern televised soap operas, such as Guiding Light, which ended in 2009, actually began in the 1930s as radio serials (Hilmes, 1999).
The Origins of Prime Time
During the evening, many families listened to the radio together, much as modern families may gather for television’s prime time. Popular evening comedy variety shows such as George Burns and Gracie Allen’s Burns and Allen, the Jack Benny Show, and the Bob Hope Show all began during the 1930s. These shows featured a central host—for whom the show was often named—and a series of sketch comedies, interviews, and musical performances, not unlike contemporary programs such as Saturday Night Live. Performed live before a studio audience, the programs thrived on a certain flair and spontaneity. Later in the evening, so-called prestige dramas such as Lux Radio Theater and Mercury Theatre on the Air aired. These shows featured major Hollywood actors recreating movies or acting out adaptations of literature (Hilmes).
By the late 1930s, the popularity of radio news broadcasts had surpassed that of newspapers. Radio’s ability to emotionally draw its audiences in close to events made for news that evoked stronger responses and, thus, greater interest than print news could. For example, the infant son of famed aviator Charles Lindbergh was kidnapped and murdered in 1932. Radio networks set up mobile stations that covered events as they unfolded, broadcasting nonstop for several days and keeping listeners updated on every detail while tying them emotionally to the outcome (Brown, 1998).
As recording technology advanced, reporters gained the ability to record events in the field and bring them back to the studio to broadcast over the airwaves. One early example of this was Herb Morrison’s recording of the Hindenburg disaster. In 1937, the Hindenburg blimp exploded into flames while attempting to land, killing 37 of its passengers. Morrison was already on the scene to record the descent, capturing the fateful crash. The entire event was later broadcast, including the sound of the exploding blimp, providing listeners with an unprecedented emotional connection to a national disaster. Morrison’s exclamation “Oh, the humanity!” became a common phrase of despair after the event (Brown, 1998).
Radio news became even more important during World War II, when programs such as Norman Corwin’s This Is War! sought to bring more sober news stories to a radio dial dominated by entertainment. The program dealt with the realities of war in a somber manner; at the beginning of the program, the host declared, “No one is invited to sit down and take it easy. Later, later, there’s a war on (Horten, 2002).” In 1940, Edward R. Murrow, a journalist working in England at the time, broadcast firsthand accounts of the German bombing of London, giving Americans a sense of the trauma and terror that the English were experiencing at the outset of the war (Horten, 2002). Radio news outlets were the first to broadcast the attack on Pearl Harbor that propelled the United States into World War II in 1941. By 1945, radio news had become so efficient and pervasive that when Roosevelt died, only his wife, his children, and Vice President Harry S. Truman were aware of it before the news was broadcast over the public airwaves (Brown).
The Birth of the Federal Communications Commission
The Communications Act of 1934 created the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and ushered in a new era of government regulation. The organization quickly began enacting influential radio decisions. Among these was the 1938 decision to limit stations to 50,000 watts of broadcasting power, a ceiling that remains in effect today (Cashman). As a result of FCC antimonopoly rulings, RCA was forced to sell its NBC Blue network; this spun-off division became the American Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) in 1943 (Brinson, 2004).
Another significant regulation with long-lasting influence was the Fairness Doctrine. In 1949, the FCC established the Fairness Doctrine as a rule stating that if broadcasters editorialized in favor of a position on a particular issue, they had to give equal time to all other reasonable positions on that issue (Browne & Browne, 1986). This tenet came from the long-held notion that the airwaves were a public resource, and that they should thus serve the public in some way. Although the regulation remained in effect until 1987, the impact of its core concepts are still debated. This chapter will explore the Fairness Doctrine and its impact in greater detail in a later section.
Radio on the Margins
Despite the networks’ hold on programming, educational stations persisted at universities and in some municipalities. They broadcast programs such as School of the Air and College of the Air as well as roundtable and town hall forums. In 1940, the FCC reserved a set of frequencies in the lower range of the FM radio spectrum for public education purposes as part of its regulation of the new spectrum. The reservation of FM frequencies gave educational stations a boost, but FM proved initially unpopular due to a setback in 1945, when the FCC moved the FM bandwidth to a higher set of frequencies, ostensibly to avoid problems with interference (Longley, 1968). This change required the purchase of new equipment by both consumers and radio stations, thus greatly slowing the widespread adoption of FM radio.
One enduring anomaly in the field of educational stations has been the Pacifica Radio network. Begun in 1949 to counteract the effects of commercial radio by bringing educational programs and dialogue to the airwaves, Pacifica has grown from a single station—Berkeley, California’s KPFA—to a network of five stations and more than 100 affiliates (Pacifica Network). From the outset, Pacifica aired newer classical, jazz, and folk music along with lectures, discussions, and interviews with public artists and intellectuals. Among Pacifica’s major innovations was its refusal to take money from commercial advertisers, relying instead on donations from listeners and grants from institutions such as the Ford Foundation and calling itself listener-supported (Mitchell, 2005).
Another important innovation on the fringes of the radio dial during this time was the growth of border stations. Located just across the Mexican border, these stations did not have to follow FCC or U.S. regulatory laws. Because the stations broadcast at 250,000 watts and higher, their listening range covered much of North America. Their content also diverged—at the time markedly—from that of U.S. stations. For example, Dr. John Brinkley started station XERF in Del Rio, Mexico, after being forced to shut down his station in Nebraska, and he used the border station in part to promote a dubious goat gland operation that supposedly cured sexual impotence (Dash, 2008). Besides the goat gland promotion, the station and others like it often carried music, like country and western, that could not be heard on regular network radio. Later border station disc jockeys, such as Wolfman Jack, were instrumental in bringing rock and roll music to a wider audience (Rudel, 2008).
Television Steals the Show
A great deal of radio’s success as a medium during the 1920s and 1930s was due to the fact that no other medium could replicate it. This changed in the late 1940s and early 1950s as television became popular. A 1949 poll of people who had seen television found that almost half of them believed that radio was doomed (Gallup, 1949). Television sets had come on the market by the late 1940s, and by 1951, more Americans were watching television during prime time than ever (Bradley). Famous radio programs such as The Bob Hope Show were made into television shows, further diminishing radio’s unique offerings (Cox, 1949).
Surprisingly, some of radio’s most critically lauded dramas launched during this period. Gunsmoke, an adult-oriented Western show (that later become television’s longest-running show) began in 1952; crime drama Dragnet, later made famous in both television and film, broadcast between 1949 and 1957; and Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar aired from 1949 to 1962, when CBS canceled its remaining radio dramas. However, these respected radio dramas were the last of their kind (Cox, 2002). Although radio was far from doomed by television, its Golden Age was.
Transition to Top 40
As radio networks abandoned the dramas and variety shows that had previously sustained their formats, the soundscape was left to what radio could still do better than any other mass medium: play music. With advertising dollars down and the emergence of better recording formats, it made good business sense for radio to focus on shows that played prerecorded music. As strictly music stations began to rise, new innovations to increase their profitability appeared. One of the most notable and far-reaching of these innovations was the Top 40 station, a concept that supposedly came from watching jukebox patrons continually play the same songs (Brewster & Broughton, 2000). Robert Storz and Gordon McLendon began adapting existing radio stations to fit this new format with great success. In 1956, the creation of limited playlists further refined the format by providing about 50 songs that disc jockeys played repeatedly every day. By the early 1960s, many stations had developed limited playlists of only 30 songs (Walker, 2001).
Another musically fruitful innovation came with the increase of Black disc jockeys and programs created for Black audiences. Because its advertisers had nowhere to go in a media market dominated by White performers, Black radio became more common on the AM dial. As traditional programming left radio, disc jockeys began to develop as the medium’s new personalities, talking more in between songs and developing followings. Early Black disc jockeys even began improvising rhymes over the music, pioneering techniques that later became rap and hip-hop. This new personality-driven style helped bring early rock and roll to new audiences (Walker, 2001).
FM: The High-Fidelity Counterculture
As music came to rule the airwaves, FM radio drew in new listeners because of its high-fidelity sound capabilities. When radio had primarily featured dramas and other talk-oriented formats, sound quality had simply not mattered to many people, and the purchase of an FM receiver did not compete with the purchase of a new television in terms of entertainment value. As FM receivers decreased in price and stereo recording technology became more popular, however, the high-fidelity trend created a market for FM stations. Mostly affluent consumers began purchasing component stereos with the goal of getting the highest sound quality possible out of their recordings (Douglas, 2004). Although this audience often preferred classical and jazz stations to Top 40 radio, they were tolerant of new music and ideas (Douglas, 2004).
Both the high-fidelity market and the growing youth counterculture of the 1960s had similar goals for the FM spectrum. Both groups eschewed AM radio because of the predictable programming, poor sound quality, and over-commercialization. Both groups wanted to treat music as an important experience rather than as just a trendy pastime or a means to make money. Many adherents to the youth counterculture of the 1960s came from affluent, middle-class families, and their tastes came to define a new era of consumer culture. The goals and market potential of both the high-fidelity lovers and the youth counterculture created an atmosphere on the FM dial that had never before occurred (Douglas, 2004).
Between the years 1960 and 1966, the number of households capable of receiving FM transmissions grew from about 6.5 million to some 40 million. The FCC also aided FM by issuing its nonduplication ruling in 1964. Before this regulation, many AM stations had other stations on the FM spectrum that simply duplicated the AM programming. The nonduplication rule forced FM stations to create their own fresh programming, opening up the spectrum for established networks to develop new stations (Douglas, 2004).
The late 1960s saw new disc jockeys taking greater liberties with established practices; these liberties included playing several songs in a row before going to a commercial break or airing album tracks that exceeded 10 minutes in length. University stations and other nonprofit ventures to which the FCC had given frequencies during the late 1940s popularized this format, and, in time, commercial stations tried to duplicate their success by playing fewer commercials and by allowing their disc jockeys to have a say in their playlists. Although this made for popular listening formats, FM stations struggled to make the kinds of profits that the AM spectrum drew (Douglas, 2004).
In 1974, FM radio accounted for one-third of all radio listening but only 14 percent of radio profits (Douglas, 2004). Large network stations and advertisers began to market heavily to the FM audience in an attempt to correct this imbalance. Stations began tightening their playlists and narrowing their formats to please advertisers and to generate greater revenues. By the end of the 1970s, radio stations were beginning to play specific formats, and the progressive radio of the previous decade had become difficult to find (Douglas, 2004).
The Rise of Public Radio
After the Golden Age of Radio came to an end, most listeners tuned in to radio stations to hear music. The variety shows and talk-based programs that had sustained radio in early years could no longer draw enough listeners to make them a successful business proposition. One divergent path from this general trend, however, was the growth of public radio.
Groups such as the Ford Foundation had funded public media sources during the early 1960s. When the foundation decided to withdraw its funding in the middle of the decade, the federal government stepped in with the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967. This act created the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) and charged it with generating funding for public television and radio outlets. The CPB in turn created National Public Radio (NPR) in 1970 to provide programming for already-operating stations. Until 1982, in fact, the CPB entirely and exclusively funded NPR. Public radio’s first program was All Things Considered, an evening news program that focused on analysis and interpretive reporting rather than cutting-edge coverage. In the mid-1970s, NPR attracted Washington-based journalists such as Cokie Roberts and Linda Wertheimer to its ranks, giving the coverage a more professional, hard-reporting edge (Schardt, 1996).
However, in 1983, public radio was pushed to the brink of financial collapse. NPR survived in part by relying more on its member stations to hold fundraising drives, now a vital component of public radio’s business model. In 2003, Joan Kroc, the widow of McDonald’s CEO and philanthropist Ray Kroc, bequeathed a grant of over $200 million to NPR that may keep it afloat for many years to come.
Having weathered the financial storm intact, NPR continued its progression as a respected news provider. During the first Gulf War, NPR sent out correspondents for the first time to provide in-depth coverage of unfolding events. Public radio’s extensive coverage of the 2001 terrorist bombings gained its member stations many new listeners, and it has since expanded (Clift, 2011). Although some have accused NPR of presenting the news with a liberal bias, its listenership in 2005 was 28 percent conservative, 32 percent liberal, and 29 percent moderate. Newt Gingrich, a conservative Republican and former speaker of the house, has stated that the network is “a lot less on the left” than some may believe (Sherman, 2005). With more than 26 million weekly listeners and 860 member stations in 2009, NPR has become a leading radio news source (Kamenetz, 2009).
Public radio distributors such as Public Radio International (PRI) and local public radio stations such as WBEZ in Chicago have also created a number of cultural and entertainment programs, including quiz shows, cooking shows, and a host of local public forum programs. Storytelling programs such as This American Life have created a new kind of free-form radio documentary genre, while shows such as PRI’s variety show A Prairie Home Companion have revived older radio genres. This variety of popular public radio programming has shifted radio from a music-dominated medium to one that is again exploring its vast potential.
During the early 1990s, many radio stations suffered the effects of an economic recession. Some stations initiated local marketing agreements (LMAs) to share facilities and resources amid this economic decline. LMAs led to consolidation in the industry as radio stations bought other stations to create new hubs for the same programming. The Telecommunications Act of 1996 further increased consolidation by eliminating a duopoly rule prohibiting dual station ownership in the same market and by lifting the numerical limits on station ownership by a single entity.
As large corporations such as Clear Channel Communications bought up stations around the country, they reformatted stations that had once competed against one another so that each focused on a different format. This practice led to mainstream radio’s present state, in which narrow formats target highly specific demographic audiences.
Ultimately, although the industry consolidation of the 1990s made radio profitable, it reduced local coverage and diversity of programming. Because stations around the country served as outlets for a single network, the radio landscape became more uniform and predictable (Keith, 2010). Much as with chain restaurants and stores, some people enjoy this type of predictability, while others prefer a more localized, unique experience (Keith, 2010).
- The Golden Age of Radio covered the period between 1930 and 1950. It was characterized by radio’s overwhelming popularity and a wide range of programming, including variety, music, drama, and theater programs.
- Top 40 radio arose after most nonmusic programming moved to television. This format used short playlists of popular hits and gained a great deal of commercial success during the 1950s and 1960s.
- FM became popular during the late 1960s and 1970s as commercial stations adopted the practices of free-form stations to appeal to new audiences who desired higher fidelity and a less restrictive format.
- Empowered by the Telecommunications Act of 1996, media conglomerates have subsumed unprecedented numbers of radio stations by single companies. Radio station consolidation brings predictability and profits at the expense of unique programming.
Please respond to the following short-answer writing prompts. Each response should be a minimum of one paragraph.
- Explain the advantages that radio had over traditional print media during the 1930s and 1940s.
- Do you think that radio could experience another golden age? Explain your answer.
- How has the consolidation of radio stations affected radio programming?
- Characterize the overall effects of one significant technological or social shift described in this section on radio as a medium.
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