ABSTRACT
My immediate response to the term ‘the language of science’ is one which conjures up the notion of scientific jargon: subject specific vocabulary with which I am not familiar so that I struggle with meaning, the usage and possibly the spelling. My response is that of a monolingual person operating in a situation where my mother tongue is the language of instruction. I suspect that the response of many pupils in schools would be far more complex, conjuring up not only scientific jargon, but memories of sitting through long diatribes intended to explain a certain reaction, concept, process or result, but which in fact had no meaning although the pupils had come to their own hypotheses and conclusions. Memories also of being asked to carry out tasks unsupported and consequently being unable to complete the tasks, or of getting further and further behind. Feelings such as ‘if only I could do the work in my mother tongue’, ‘if only this worksheet was more comprehensible and clear, and I could follow the instructions’, ‘if only I could talk this over with someone else’, or maybe less analytical responses such as ‘I don’t understand this, I’m going to drop the subject as soon as I can; in the meantime I’ll just pretend I understand’. These more complex responses could be those of many pupils in this country in both the primary and secondary sectors, who have a first language other than English, or speak a dialect of English which is quite different from the more standard form used in schools. How do these pupils cope? How do teachers respond to the linguistic diversity which exists? And how do teachers support pupils to make the curriculum more accessible to all of them, and play a role in the linguistic development of all children?
