When “Speaking” Isn’t Enough

Spelling Isn’t Just for Kids Who Are “Non-Speaking”

I’ll say the thing that I think more people need to hear:

Spelling is not only for kids who are considered non-speaking.

When we first started spelling with Lizzie, I was honestly unsure whether it was even the right fit for her because she is speaking. She has words. She has phrases. She can yell commands like “water!” She talks about her favorite things. She repeats phrases she hears. On the surface, that can make it seem like she already has access to communication in a way that would make spelling unnecessary.

But once we started, it became very clear, very fast, that her speech is minimal and unreliable in ways that matter deeply.

Yes, she can speak. But can she answer questions consistently? No. Can she tell us what she knows when learning gets harder? Not reliably. Can she communicate clearly in situations outside of mom and dad? Usually not. And when you start looking at communication through that lens instead of just asking, “Does this child talk?”, you realize how much more complicated this really is.

Zeke is also speaking, but his story is different.

Zeke has childhood apraxia of speech. At age 4, he had about five functional word approximations. He’s 12 now, and he can usually ask for basic needs. He can talk about Minecraft, VR, and the things he likes. He can play. He can be expressive in certain ways. But when it comes to school, deeper conversation, answering questions on demand, or showing what he actually knows, things break down. Fast.

And that is exactly why I think more parents need to consider spelling for their “speaking” child.

Because the question is not just, “Can they talk?”

The question is: Can they communicate what they know, think, feel, and understand in a reliable way?

For so many kids, the answer is no.

1. Does your child struggle to show what they know in learning?

This is the biggest one for me.

Both Lizzie and Zeke struggle to read aloud. For Zeke, reading out loud has always been a huge barrier. He cannot read much more than CVC words and sight words aloud. If I only looked at that skill, I would assume his academic level was very low.

And for a long time, I did assume that.

When Zeke started spelling at almost 10 years old, I still had him doing first grade work because I genuinely thought that was where he was. That’s what his output looked like. That’s what his speech and reading aloud abilities suggested. That’s what I had access to as his teacher and mom. I was teaching the child I thought I saw.

Then spelling blew that wide open.

Very quickly, Zeke showed us that he is, in fact, very intelligent. He could spell easily. He could do multi-digit math in his head. He could understand far more than I had ever been able to measure through speech and traditional academic tasks.

Talk about whiplash.

We went from first grade to fourth grade basically overnight.

Not because he suddenly learned all of that in a week. Not because something magical happened to his intelligence. But because he finally had a more effective way to show us what had already been there.

That kind of shift changes everything.

It changes the curriculum you choose. It changes your expectations. It changes the opportunities you give your child. It changes the way you understand them.

And Lizzie is showing us similar things in her own way.

She is in first grade, and we do kindergarten and first grade level work in many areas. That makes sense based on what we can see through speech, early reading, and traditional academic tasks. She is learning letters and sounds. She seems to have some words memorized, like mom and dog. But for the most part, she is not functionally or successfully reading aloud yet.

And yet, through spelling, she can answer questions using words like biomimicry.

She cannot read the word pet aloud, but she can spell biomimicry in response to a lesson question.

How do we see that and not continue with spelling just because she is speaking?

How do we ignore such a huge mismatch between spoken output and actual understanding?

We don’t.

We can’t.

Because when a child is showing you that there is a clear brain-body disconnect, the answer is not to cling harder to the one form of output that is failing them. The answer is to give them another route.

That’s what spelling has been for us.

Not a replacement for everything. Not an all-or-nothing identity statement. Just a way to access more of who they are and what they know.

2. Is your child able to have a back-and-forth conversation?

This is another huge red flag that I think people overlook when a child is considered verbal.

Doctors’ offices are such a perfect example.

Doctors ask kids questions all the time. What’s your name? How old are you? What’s your birthday? What game are you playing on your iPad? Where does it hurt? How bad is the pain?

For many typically speaking kids, these are easy questions. For my kids, they often are not.

Though both of my kids are verbal, 90% of the time they cannot answer those questions, especially Zeke. It’s like the phrase people say — “cat’s got your tongue” — except it’s not shyness, and it’s not defiance, and it’s not a lack of understanding. It’s that the demand of speaking on cue in a pressure-filled moment is just too much. He cannot reliably motor plan speech on demand like that.

So people assume he doesn’t know.

Or they assume he’s ignoring them.

Or they assume he’s incapable of more complex communication.

But that’s not what’s happening.

The problem is not necessarily knowledge. The problem is access.

Lizzie runs into this in a different way. She has chronic pain, so she is often asked pain-related questions. And very rarely will she answer them meaningfully, even when there is a pain scale right in front of her. When she was younger, if a nurse asked, she would yell, “A 1 and a 0!” — aka, “10.” That was the answer every single time.

Was her pain actually a 10 every single time? I’m guessing no.

But that was the automatic response that came out. That was the motor pattern available in the moment. That was not the same thing as accurate, flexible, meaningful communication.

And that matters.

It matters medically. It matters socially. It matters in family life.

Think about family gatherings. Grandparents love to ask questions. What did you do today? What are you learning in school? What do you want for your birthday? Did you have fun at therapy? What book are you reading?

Can your child answer those questions?

Not in theory. Not once in a blue moon. Not when the stars align and everyone is calm and the topic happens to be a preferred interest.

Can they answer them reliably?

Because if they cannot, then they do not have full access to communication in those moments, no matter how “verbal” they appear from the outside.

That’s a big deal.

3. Are they able to communicate beyond wants and needs?

This one hits me in the gut.

A lot of speaking kids with motor speech or communication differences can communicate wants and needs to some extent. They can ask for water. They can ask for food. They can name a favorite show. They can request a device or a snack or a toy. They can protest. They can label. They can sometimes comment on familiar things.

But can they tell you about their day?

Can they tell you something funny someone said?

Can they tell you what they learned?

Can they tell you what they’re worried about?

Can they tell you what hurt, what confused them, what excited them, what they noticed?

Can they converse?

I can count on one hand the number of times Zeke and I have had a conversation like that through speech.

That is not because he has nothing to say.

It is not because he is not smart.

It is not because he doesn’t understand.

It is because speech is not a reliable enough tool for him to access all of that.

Lizzie is similar in her own way. If I ask these kinds of questions, she typically cannot answer them, or she’ll say something like, “I’m not going to say!”

And honestly, that phrase alone says so much. It can sound oppositional on the surface, but I think a lot of the time it’s more like: I can’t do this the way you’re asking me to, and I need out of this interaction.

That is very different from true access to expressive communication.

When kids can only communicate basic wants and needs, people often assume that’s enough. But it’s not enough.

It is not enough to only be able to ask for water.

It is not enough to only be able to say favorite things.

It is not enough to only be able to answer in scripts, repeated phrases, or automatic responses.

Our kids deserve access to real communication. Not just survival communication.

And that is what spelling can open up.

Spelling has changed everything for us

At the end of the day, all of these barriers with speaking kids are holding them back from meaningful learning and meaningful communication.

That is the part I wish more people understood.

When a child cannot reliably speak to show what they know, answer questions, participate in conversation, or communicate flexibly beyond wants and needs, that limitation affects everything. It affects academics. It affects relationships. It affects medical care. It affects self-expression. It affects confidence. It affects access to the world.

Enter: spelling.

Giving kids access to age-appropriate learning despite verbal limitations is life-changing.

Zeke is doing sixth grade math and absolutely crushing it. He listens to novels, podcasts, science content, and so much more. Once we stopped requiring speech to be the main proof of understanding, we opened the door to real learning and real opportunity.

That shift has been massive.

And spelling doesn’t just matter academically. It can be life-changing in practical, everyday situations too — doctors’ offices, family gatherings, conversations with friends, and moments where a child needs to say more than their mouth can reliably produce.

This is not an all-or-nothing situation.

Spelling does not have to mean a child is “non-speaking enough.”
Spelling does not have to cancel out speech.
Spelling does not have to fit neatly into other people’s categories.

It can simply be an additional communication method where verbal skills are limited.

That alone is enough reason to consider it.

I have questioned myself a million times on whether my kids are “non-speaking enough” to be spellers. I’ve wrestled with that idea more times than I can count. I’ve wondered if I was overreaching, misunderstanding, or choosing something that didn’t fully fit.

But every single time we sit down and spell, they remind me that it is the right choice.

Every time they show me knowledge I wouldn’t otherwise have access to.
Every time they communicate something that speech could not carry.
Every time the gap between what comes out verbally and what is inside becomes impossible to ignore.

They remind me.

And truly, seeing their full potential is an incredible gift.

So yes, maybe this is an unpopular opinion.

But I think more parents of “speaking” kids need permission to consider spelling anyway.

Not because speech doesn’t matter.
Not because labels don’t exist.
But because access matters more.

And if spelling gives your child more access to communication, learning, connection, and dignity, then that is reason enough.

This is exactly why I created Dare to Homeschool Your Speller — because access to education matters, and our spellers deserve rich, meaningful learning that does not depend on unreliable speech. For a limited time, you can grab a full year of comprehensive curriculum for 30% off. Check it out now!