Child Language Acquisition Quotes

The child's reluctance to speak for the first few months of his residence in a new country is not pathological, but normal.

Tasks are the real-world activities people think of when planning, conducting, or recalling their day. That can mean things like brushing their teeth, preparing breakfast, reading a newspaper, taking a child to school, responding to e-mail messages, making a sales call, attending a lecture or a business meeting, having lunch with a colleague from work, helping a child with homework, coaching a soccer team, and watching a TV program. Some tasks are mundane, some complex.

The cause of the onset of overgeneralization [of regular past tense forms to irregular verbs] is not a change in vocabulary statistics, but some endogenous change in the child's language mechanisms.

Imagine you live on a planet where the dominant species is far more intellectually sophisticated than human beings but often keeps humans as companion animals. They are called the Gorns. They communicate with each other via a complex combination of telepathy, eye movements & high-pitched squeaks, all completely unintelligible & unlearnable by humans, whose brains are prepared for verbal language acquisition only. Humans sometimes learn the meaning of individual sounds by repeated association with things of relevance to them. The Gorns & humans bond strongly but there are many Gorn rules that humans must try to assimilate with limited information & usually high stakes. You are one of the lucky humans who lives with the Gorns in their dwelling. Many other humans are chained to small cabanas in the yard or kept in outdoor pens of varying size. They are so socially starved they cannot control their emotions when a Gorn goes near them. The Gorns agree that they could never be House-Humans. The dwelling you share with your Gorn family is filled with water-filled porcelain bowls.Every time you try to urinate in one,nearby Gorn attack you. You learn to only use the toilet when there are no Gorns present. Sometimes they come home & stuff your head down the toilet for no apparent reason. You hate this & start sucking up to the Gorns when they come home to try & stave this off but they view this as evidence of your guilt. You are also punished for watching videos, reading books, talking to other human beings, eating pizza or cheesecake, & writing letters. These are all considered behavior problems by the Gorns. To avoid going crazy, once again you wait until they are not around to try doing anything you wish to do. While they are around, you sit quietly, staring straight ahead. Because they witness this good behavior you are so obviously capable of, they attribute to “spite” the video watching & other transgressions that occur when you are alone. Obviously you resent being left alone, they figure. You are walked several times a day and left crossword puzzle books to do. You have never used them because you hate crosswords; the Gorns think you’re ignoring them out of revenge. Worst of all, you like them. They are, after all, often nice to you. But when you smile at them, they punish you, likewise for shaking hands. If you apologize they punish you again. You have not seen another human since you were a small child. When you see one you are curious, excited & afraid. You really don’t know how to act. So, the Gorn you live with keeps you away from other humans. Your social skills never develop. Finally, you are brought to “training” school. A large part of the training consists of having your air briefly cut off by a metal chain around your neck. They are sure you understand every squeak & telepathic communication they make because sometimes you get it right. You are guessing & hate the training. You feel pretty stressed out a lot of the time. One day, you see a Gorn approaching with the training collar in hand. You have PMS, a sore neck & you just don’t feel up to the baffling coercion about to ensue. You tell them in your sternest voice to please leave you alone & go away. The Gorns are shocked by this unprovoked aggressive behavior. They thought you had a good temperament. They put you in one of their vehicles & take you for a drive. You watch the attractive planetary landscape going by & wonder where you are going. You are led into a building filled with the smell of human sweat & excrement. Humans are everywhere in small cages. Some are nervous, some depressed, most watch the goings on on from their prisons. Your Gorns, with whom you have lived your entire life, hand you over to strangers who drag you to a small room. You are terrified & yell for your Gorn family to help you. They turn & walk away.You are held down & given a lethal injection. It is, after all, the humane way to do it.

Deaf, signing parents will “babble” to their infants in sign, just as hearing parents do orally; this is how the child learns language, in a dialogic fashion. The infant’s brain is especially attuned to learning language in the first three or four years, whether this is an oral language or a signed one. But if a child learns no language at all during the critical period, language acquisition may be extremely difficult later. Thus a deaf child of deaf parents will grow up “speaking” sign, but a deaf child of hearing parents often grows up with no real language at all, unless he is exposed early to a signing community.

listening to stories while looking at pictures stimulates children’s deep brain networks, fostering their optimal cognitive development. Further, the companionable experience of shared reading cultivates empathy, dramatically accelerates young children’s language acquisition, and vaults them ahead of their peers when they get to school. The rewards of early reading are astonishingly meaningful: toddlers who have lots of stories read to them turn into children who are more likely to enjoy strong relationships, sharper focus, and greater emotional resilience and self-mastery. The evidence has become so overwhelming that social scientists now consider read-aloud time one of the most important indicators of a child’s prospects in life. It would be a mistake, though, to relegate reading aloud solely to the realm of childhood.

The human child's use of words looks entirely different from Kanzi's because it is equipotential. There is apparently no limit to the child's rapid acquisition of new words and to their very wide application, and the child is constantly using words of everything and everybody she encounters. Kanzi, however, is stuck with few words and with limited application, and apparently has no impulse to develop them on his own or to use them except for limited purposes like making a request. We suggest that Kanzi's "vocabulary" relates to a finite number of frames of limited application and that because there is no higher-level blending capacity, those frames cannot be integrated fluidly, which is the power of blending and the sine qua non of language. The Eliza fallacy here consists in taking word combinations by Kanzi and assuming that Kanzi is doing mentally what the child would be doing with those same word combinations. We have no dispute in principle with the proposal that Kanzi or Sarah might know meanings, might associate symbols with those meanings, and might put some of those symbols together in ways connected with juxtaposition of corresponding meanings. We are making a different observation: This kind of symbol-meaning correlation need not be equipotential. For the limited frames Kanzi is using, his behavior and the child's might be quite similar, even though the underlying mental processes are different. It is a fallacy to assume that Kanzi is doing essentially the same mental work as the child. This is like assuming that because a chess-playing machine can play chess, it is doing all the fabulous double-scope blending that a human being does while playing chess. We suggest that our account is corroborated by the fact that Kanzi's vocabulary tops out at fewer than 200 words of limited application, while the six-year-old child uses 13,000 words with very wide application. The actual wide-ranging human use of even a rudimentary word turns out to be a major imaginative achievement.

For usage-based theorists, acquisition of language, while impressive, is not the only remarkable feat accomplished by the child. They compare it to other cognitive and perceptual learning, including learning to ‘see’. That is, the visual abilities that we take for granted, for example, focusing on and interpreting objects in our visual field, are actually learned through experience.

The only place where feedback on error is typically present with high frequency is the language classroom. Even there, it is not always provided consistently. In Chapters 5 and 6, research on the role of feedback in the classroom will be reviewed. One condition that appears to be common to learners of all ages—though not in equal quality or quantity—is exposure to modified or adapted input. This adjusted speech style, called child-directed speech in first language acquisition, has sometimes been called foreigner talk or teacher talk depending on the contexts of second language acquisition. Some people who interact regularly with language learners seem to have an intuitive sense of what adjustments they need to make to help learners understand. Of course, not everyone knows what adjustments will be most helpful. We have all witnessed those painful conversations in which people seem to think that they can make learners understand better if they simply talk louder!

the emphasis is more on the child’s ability to create networks of associations rather than on processes of imitation and habit formation. Referred to by various names, including cognitive linguistics, this view also differs sharply from the innatists’ because language acquisition is not seen as requiring a separate ‘module of the mind’ but rather depends on the child’s general learning abilities and the contributions of the environment. As Elena Lieven and Michael Tomasello (2008) put it, ‘Children learn language from their language experiences—there is no other way’ (p.168). According to this view, what children need to know is essentially available to them in the language they are exposed to.

The importance of interaction The role of interaction between a language-learning child and an interlocutor who responds to the child is illuminated by cases where such interaction is missing. Jacqueline Sachs and her colleagues (1981) studied the language development of a child they called Jim. He was a hearing child of deaf parents, and his only contact with oral language was through television, which he watched frequently. The family was unusual in that the parents did not use sign language with Jim. Thus, although in other respects he was well cared for, Jim did not begin his linguistic development in a normal environment in which a parent communicated with him in either oral or sign language. A language assessment at three years and nine months indicated that he was well below age level in all aspects of language. Although he attempted to express ideas appropriate to his age, he used unusual, ungrammatical word order. When Jim began conversational sessions with an adult, his expressive abilities began to improve. By the age of four years and two months most of the unusual speech patterns had disappeared, replaced by language more typical of his age. Jim’s younger brother Glenn did not display the same type of language delay. Glenn’s linguistic environment was different from Jim’s: he had his older brother—not only as a model, but, more importantly as a conversational partner whose interaction allowed Glenn to develop language in a more typical way. Jim showed very rapid acquisition of English once he began to interact with an adult on a one-to-one basis. The fact that he had failed to acquire language normally prior to this experience suggests that impersonal sources of language such as television or radio alone are not sufficient. One-to-one interaction gives children access to language that is adjusted to their level of comprehension. When a child does not understand, the adult may repeat or paraphrase. The response of the adult may also allow children to find out when their own utterances are understood. Television, for obvious reasons, does not provide such interaction. Even in children’s programmes, where simpler language is used and topics are relevant to younger viewers, no immediate adjustment is made for the needs of an individual child. Once children have acquired some language, however, television can be a source of language and cultural information.

developmental and cognitive psychologists find further evidence that language acquisition is ‘usage-based’. In this view, language acquisition is possible because of children’s general cognitive capacities and the vast number of opportunities they have to make connections between the language they hear and what they experience in their environment. Sophisticated electronic recording devices have been used to track and count words and phrases children hear in their daily lives. Deb Roy documented his son’s acquisition of words, showing the frequency and the contexts for the occurrence of language. Most remarkable, perhaps, is the demonstration of the power of interaction between the child and the adults and how adults focus on the language the child has begun to use (Roy 2009).

In a 1957 experiment that helped launch the modern study of language acquisition, the late Roger Brown showed that children know that if you say, "Can you see a sib?" you probably have in mind an action or a process. No other mammal seems to be equipped to use such clues for word learning. Even more dramatically, no other species seems to be able to make much of word order. The difference between the sentence "Dog bites man" and the sentence "Man bites dog" is largely lost on our nonhuman cousins. There is a bit of evidence that Kanzi can pay attention to word order to some tiny extent, but certainly not in anything like as rich a fashion as a three-year-old human child.

A child's ability to learn many words is so completely different from anything observed in other species that many researchers propose that some neural mechanism must be especially dedicated to this acquisition of linguistic knowledge.

Now we have come full circle to the subtitle of this book: children learn by unlearning other languages. Viewed in the Darwinian light, all humanly possible grammars compete to match the language spoken in the child's environment. And fitness, because we have competition, can be measured by the compatibility of a grammar with what a child hears in a particular linguistic environment. This theory of language takes both nature and nurture into account: nature proposes, and nurture disposes.

A five years old child may be aware of only 2 members for each word family he knows; perhaps one is the root word (i. e., mono-morphemic words) and the other is the complex one. Accordingly, Anglin (1993, 69-72) sustains that root words constitute 31% of the first grade English children’s vocabulary, whereas compound and derived words together constitute 41% of the first grade English children’s vocabulary.

the mental causality of karma is hidden, it must be hidden in plain sight. It must be as humble and commonplace as the birth of an infant or a child’s acquisition of language. And it must be as natural as the song of the birds and the dance of the bees. I see karma at work in the kind of causality people struggle with every day in psychotherapy: patterns of action handed down across generations, incorporated into a “new” personality and perpetuating themselves through the force of repetition and habit. And I believe that this stream of mental heredity, conserved and transformed by learning within and across lives, is a natural bridge linking the theory of karma with what Freud called “the reincarnation of ego structures” and contemporary family-systems therapists call “the intergenerational transmission of character.

Far from being limited to the first years, language acquisition is coextensive with the very exercise of language.

Whether or not these ideas alone would solve any of the problems discussed, I look forward to the day when SLA is more widely recognized as the serious and socially responsive discipline I believe it can be. Chapters like this one (unpleasant for writer and assuredly some readers alike) would no longer be needed. One could instead concentrate on the genuine controversies and excitement in SLA and L3A: the roles of nature and nurture; special and general nativism; child-adult differences and the possibility of maturational constraints; cross-linguistic influence; acquisition and socialization; cognitive and social factors; resilience; stabilization; fossilization, and other putative mechanisms and processes in interlanguage change; the feasibility of pedagogical intervention; and, most of all, the development of viable theories.

The distinction could be made between a speaking speech and a spoken speech. In the former, the meaningful intention is in a nascent state. Here existence is polarized into a certain 'sense' that cannot be defined by any natural object; existence seeks to meet up with itself beyond being, and this is why it creates speech as the empirical support of its own non-being...But the act of expression constitutes a linguistic and cultural world, it makes that which stretched beyond fall back into being. This results in spoken speech, which enjoys the use of available significations like that of an acquired fortune. From these acquisitions, other authentic acts of expression--those of the writer, the artist, and the philosopher--become possible. This ever-recreated opening in the fullness of being is what conditions the first speech of the child and the speech of the writer, the construction of the word and the construction of concepts. Such is the function revealed through language, which reiterates itself, depends upon itself, or that like a wave gathers itself together and steadies itself in order to once again throw itself beyond itself.