It was ancient practice to craft poems and ballads with repeated ending sounds so that they were more easily memorized (5). This is the reason we still remember the nursery rhymes we were told as children. Perhaps the usefulness of rhyme in terms of remembering can help explain why so often people over-articulate rhyme, especially end-rhyme, in poetry. Most of us were taught to read with rhyming words, and I suppose there is some comfort in reading a rhyme even into adulthood. Not to mention the simple pleasure of discovering a rhyme-match, or of anticipating the end of a sentence based on the logical rhyming conclusion. In any case, the usefulness of rhyme is something that can be easily leveraged in the classroom to help students memorize vocabulary through poetry.
If rhyme is useful, comfortable, fun, then rhythm is, to paraphrase Mexican poet Octavio Paz, "magical." It is the
je ne sais quoi
of a poem, the mystery of how words mix and mingle to create an atmosphere, the way in which words grow off the page into a sensory sound garden. Rhythm is the reason we often know lyrics to pop songs we don't even like, and the reason I teach students boring but necessary things like conjugations and days of the week to familiar tunes. Technically speaking, rhythm is the "organization of sound patterns the poet has created for pleasurable reading (www.homepage.smc.edu...)."
While I don't think I know quite how to
teach
poetic rhythm, I can use it to engage students and show them how to honor the pronunciation of every word, to delight in the individual sounds formed when speaking words as well as the transitions involved in speaking words in succession, to experience rhythm as it shows itself, in a word, in a phrase, in a line. When practicing vocabulary, along with over-enunciation of the word I often highlight a rhythm to the word or phrase. For example, the phrase
je crois que (I think that)
is made up of an unstressed accent (a shorter sound) followed by a stressed accent (a longer sound) and then another unstressed accent, like
buh BUHH buh
. Intonation is also very important in French, and the stress of the accent often correlates to a rise or fall in pitch. So in practicing the vocabulary, I will sometimes snap or stomp or clap on the stressed syllable to drive home the difference, and students will mirror not just the sound but also often the physical gestures that I use to accompany the words. I will also use my hand to follow the peaks and dips in pitch, an update on the old bouncing yellow ball from childhood sing-along programs. These strategies help to connect the physical body to the mental thought process involved in our lessons.
Another way to get students present in the body-feeling of the vocabulary is to focus on the changes in the face when speaking new words. I prompt students to notice and feel the long "O" stretch in the face while saying
je CROIS que
, adding gestures that mirror the feeling, the hand moving from fingers pressed together closed to blooming open with a twist of the wrist. Not only does this try to get across the sensory connection between words and meaning, but it also helps to loosen students up. As previously indicated, I find it important to purposely overdo it. By telling and showing them that no one will look sillier than I will, it gives them freedom to really get into it and get the most from this multi-sensory practice. And heck, even when they think I'm being "corny" (usually not until 7
th
or 8
th
grade), they also see me smiling, enjoying myself and the language. This is something that cannot be taught or quizzed, but I hope it will help inspire a love of language and, if not that, then the permission and encouragement to be that into
something,
anything.
