National Spelling Bee: 275 students vie (vye? vigh?) to make semifinals
Could you spell succedaneum? Or autochthonous?
This week is the Scripps National Spelling Bee 鈥� otherwise known as the time of year when ESPN viewers ogle in awe at the orthographic capabilities of grade-schoolers.
On Wednesday, 275 contestants are battling it out in the preliminary rounds, where their success in both written tests and oral competition will determine which 50 (at most) advance to the semifinals Thursday, and then to the finals Thursday evening.
Included in their ranks: one eight-year-old, two nine-year-olds, and 13 ten-year-olds (along with the much larger groups of older spellers, who must not have moved beyond eighth grade before Feb. 1). Some have come from as far away as Japan, Guam, New Zealand, and South Korea.
All have won both a school and a regional competition, and most have spent hours poring over words in the booklet put out by Scripps and Merriam-Webster to help students study for spelling bees.
But apart from memorizing the nearly half-million words in Webster's Third New International Dictionary and its addenda, there鈥檚 no way for spellers to know what words they鈥檒l be given, or even how those words will be selected.
鈥淚t鈥檚 kind of like our secret sauce,鈥� says Lee Rose, a spokesperson for the E.W. Scripps Co., which has administered the bee 鈥� the nation鈥檚 longest-running educational promotion 鈥� since 1925 (when the winning word was 鈥済ladiolus鈥�). 鈥淚t鈥檚 part of the mystique of the bee.鈥�
What competitors do know is that the words will get progressively tougher. In Wednesday鈥檚 preliminary round, spellers continue in the rounds regardless of whether they misspell a word (and their accumulated scores determine who advances to the semi-finals), but by Thursday鈥檚 competition a single misspelled word means elimination.
By the time just two or three spellers are left onstage, the pronouncer can move to the 25-word 鈥渃hampionship鈥� section of the word list, trying to stump spellers with some of the toughest words in the dictionary.
A look back at the bee鈥檚 shows how much tougher the competition has become over the years. In the 1920s and '30s, students were able to win by spelling words like 鈥減romiscuous,鈥� 鈥渒nack,鈥� and 鈥渋nterning.鈥� The winning words in the past three years, meanwhile, were 鈥済uerdon鈥� (meaning 鈥渞eward鈥�), 鈥淟aodicean鈥� (lukewarm or indifferent in religion or politics), and 鈥渟tromuhr,鈥� (a rheometer designed to measure the amount and speed of bloodflow through an artery).
鈥淭he bee itself has just grown in its popularity since it started,鈥� says Ms. Rose, explaining some of the trend toward more sophisticated spellers. This year, the competition has moved to a new, larger hotel, and is selling tickets for the first time in the bee鈥檚 history.
On Wednesday, spellers were sweating their way through the tough competition. For some of them, it鈥檚 not the first time. Though he鈥檚 just 11, Rahul Malayappan from Connecticut is competing for the fourth consecutive year 鈥� one of three spellers back for a fourth round. A number of the top finishers from last year are back to try again, including two finalists 鈥� Joanna Ye of Pennsylvania (who correctly spelled 鈥渨ickiup鈥� in the first oral round) and Laura Newcombe of Ontario (who rattled off 鈥渆quinoctial鈥�). The girls tied for fifth place last year.
And, as always, the spellers seemed unfazed by words that would daunt most grammarians 鈥� or newspaper reporters. Just 38 misspelled words during the first of two oral rounds, breezing through 鈥渟axifrage鈥� and 鈥渉eresimach鈥� (but getting tripped up, in one instance, by 鈥渋buprofen鈥�).
