Teach-Primary-Issue-20.1

52 | www.teachwire.net Without opportunities to perform – to play, to improvise, to connect with an audience – practice becomes sterile. Writing is no different. If we focus solely on transcription, we risk losing sight of the reader, the purpose, and the joy of communication. The word tally within the framework is telling. Terms like ‘sentence construction’ appear with striking frequency, while words such as ‘effect’, ‘reader’, and ‘purpose’ are far less prominent. This imbalance could lead practitioners to crudely divide the curriculum as follows: KS1 becomes the time for transcription, and KS2 the time for composition. But writing doesn’t work like that. Children don’t suddenly T here is much to celebrate in the Department for Education’s new Writing Framework. It’s thoughtful, well-researched, and clearly the product of passionate educators committed to improving outcomes for children. As someone who has spent years working alongside schools to develop effective literacy practice, I find myself mostly in favour of its recommendations. However, as with any national guidance, we must tread carefully to avoid the unintended consequences that can arise from overly rigid interpretations. We’ve seen this before. The sector is still feeling the effects of past frameworks that, while well-intentioned, were implemented in ways that narrowed practice and distorted priorities. Take reading, for example. The separation of decoding and comprehension has led to groups of children who, by the end of KS2, can read fluently but struggle to make meaning. Composition over construction The newWriting Framework risks a similar fate if we’re not careful. Its emphasis on sentence construction is, in principle, sound. After all, just as a musician must practise scales to master their instrument, a writer must practise crafting sentences to develop fluency and control. But scales alone do not make music. like robots; in other words, technically correct but devoid of voice, intent, or connection. Moreover, KS2 teachers will be left to pick up the pieces, having to retrain their pupils to see writing as a meaning-making process that should affect the reader through its messaging, rather than simply impress the marker through its technical accuracy. Interpretation is key This is not a call to abandon the framework. Far from it. It offers valuable guidance and a much-needed spotlight on the building blocks of writing. But we must implement it with nuance. Subject leaders, senior leaders, and classroom practitioners alike need to FOLLOWING the reader than a meaningful act. Let’s keep the reader at the heart of the writing process. Let’s ensure that every sentence constructed is part of a larger whole: an idea, a story, a message worth sharing. And let’s remember that whilst scales are essential, it’s the music that moves us. Practicalities In order to help pupils structure their writing for meaning and purpose, try the following activities: Writing for meaning and purpose requires more than syntactical and grammatical accuracy; pupils must be aware of their audience, argue Penny Slater and Ellen Counter “A writer must practise crafting sentences to develop fluency and control” become composers at age seven. They need to be immersed in meaningful writing experiences from the start – experiences that connect the mechanics of writing with its communicative power. Yes, accurate sentence construction matters. But accuracy for its own sake is not the goal. Writing should be purposeful, contextual, and reader-aware. If we’re not careful, we’ll find ourselves training children to write ask: What is the purpose of this activity? How does it help children become better communicators? Are we teaching writing as a craft, or merely as a set of rules? With thoughtful implementation, the Writing Framework can help us raise standards and close gaps. But we must learn from the past. We must ensure that our interpretation of the guidance does not lead to unintended consequences, where writing becomes a mechanical exercise rather