No Talking

“Dave had a long, long list of interests, and he had plenty of opinions. Plus, talking always made Dave feel like he was in charge. It was sort of like being a police officer out in the middle of traffic. As long as he did the talking, the traffic went the way he wanted it to. This was especially useful if insults started flying around. When it came to dishing out the put-downs, Dave was a pro. But this lunchtime, all the other loudmouths were getting a chance to spout off.”

While not talking, Dave must release the usual control he exerts over the other kids at school. Much of who he is as a person is tied up in his words; uttering them gives him a sense of identity, while staying silent forces him to abandon his self-perception as group leader. The temptation to say something challenges his resolve to honor his vow of silence.

“I said, I bet if you had to shut up for five minutes, the top of your head would explode. Like a volcano. From all the hot gas that usually comes out of your mouth. When you talk and talk and talk and never stop talking. Yeah. That’s what I said. To you.”

Fed up with Lynsey’s yammering at lunch, Dave cannot resist insulting her. This insult then leads to the development of the silence competition, setting the events of the plot in motion. Ironically, Dave’s outburst violates his own vow of silence—so his put-down of Lynsey might just as easily apply to him.

“The kids grow up a little bit, and they all learn that everyone’s a real person, and some of those persons are boys and some are girls, and suddenly everyone gets along just fine, person to person. No more cooties. However, some groups of kids cling to those cooties a little too long. The boys avoid the girls, and the girls avoid the boys, and everyone keeps seeing cooties everywhere. And, sadly, that’s the way it was with most of the fifth-grade kids at Laketon Elementary School.”

The older kids at Laketon Elementary’s big deal out of hating members of different genders, to the point where the entire fifth-grade class will divides itself by gender voluntarily. Clements posits that such biased thinking is immature, hinting at the character development which will unfold over the course of the novel as silence helps the students get along despite their perceived differences.

“True, there was a rule about paying attention in class. And there was a rule about being respectful. And there was a rule about being courteous at all times. And Dave and his classmates obeyed those rules—or at least, they thought they did. It’s just that they all seemed to think they could talk and be courteous—at the same time. And they all seemed to think they could talk and pay attention—at the same time. Because none of these kids really meant to be disrespectful or disobedient or discourteous. But none of them wanted to stop talking. Ever.”

To the Laketon fifth graders, talk is almost more important than anything else, and there aren’t enough specific rules about it to prevent them from having their boisterous conversations at lunchtime or speaking out of turn in class. Clements establishes the fifth-grade class as independent thinkers while simultaneously indicating the effect silence will have on them by making them more aware of how their talking affects others.

“Mrs. Hiatt felt like she was in a scene from a creepy science fiction movie. She actually liked a good scary movie now and then, but she did not like the ideas in her mind at this moment. Because it seemed like aliens had possessed these fifth graders and zapped their brains. Or maybe some strange creature had nipped off all their tongues—nothing left but little stubs that couldn’t make a sound.”

Principal Hiatt, expecting the usual noisy chaos from her fifth-grade charges, observes the moment when all of them begin their silence contest. The sudden, universal, and drastic change in the kids’ behavior unnerves her. The nature of the students’ game, not talking, is such that it will be hard for her to learn quickly what’s going on; this adds to the eerie, creepy atmosphere she senses.

“The silence—Dave thought it was amazing. And watching Mrs. Hiatt try to figure out what was going on? That was amazing too. It was like they had trapped her in a force field. And she couldn’t get out of it, because the silence filled the cafeteria.”

Dave discovers both the wonder of a silent room full of kids and the unexpected surprise of its effect on Mrs. Hiatt. He notes that the students have somehow overpowered the school’s most dreaded authority figure. To Dave, the contest has already paid off wonderfully.

“Even though there were only a few word blasts, it certainly wasn’t quiet out there, and it got noisier and noisier as the end of recess got closer. That’s because everyone began to realize that this was not a contest to see who could be silent. It was just about not talking. Sounds were allowed—as long as they weren’t words.”

The kids find loopholes in their game that give them more freedom. Shouting, singing, and making silly noises help them express their playground energy without breaking the rules or costing points for their team. Not only is the contest a clever invention, but the students adjust to its limits in inventive ways.

“Mrs. Marlow couldn’t get over how beautifully these children were behaving. Just yesterday, she had asked one student a question, and about fifteen others had blurted out answers, and then the whole class began arguing, and that had started a huge free-for-all that didn’t end until she banged on her desk with a book. It was always like that with this class, and with the other fifth-grade classes too. But not today. No one talked at all…unless she asked a question.”

Science teacher Mrs. Marlow begins to realize the potential benefits of the no-talking competition. Her students are more engaged and focused, and despite the perceived subversion of authority, the children actually behave more like how the staff desires them to behave. Increased agency, rather than control, has led to previously unattainable classroom decorum.

“[Dave] slowly reached down, picked up the note, and unfolded it. ‘You said, ‘Um, the first day.’ Um counts as a word. So you said four, and you cost the boys one whole point—loser! Ha-ha! Lynsey.’”

All the fifth-grade boys and girls are committed to the no-talking contest, but the real battle is between Dave and Lynsey, who started the whole thing to prove to each other that they’re the better person. Only someone they admire, even reluctantly, can threaten their feeling of superiority, and any chance they get to taunt the other, they’ll take. Thus, Dave and Lynsey are important to each other in ways they don’t yet understand: They like one another more than they can admit.

“So…this whole thing was something about counting words. More than three words resulted in a penalty—which explained all those short answers from Ellen and Dave. And it was the boys against the girls—nothing new about that, not with this group. And they were all trying to keep quiet.”

Mrs. Marlow obtains a note passed between Dave and Lynsey, and at once she understands the rules of the no-talking game. She hasn’t yet fully grasped the purpose of the game, but she’s closing in on it, and she’s impressed that all the fifth graders are involved. By forcing the adult characters to puzzle out the rules of the contest, Clements engages young readers by reversing the usual power dynamic at school.

“But then her scientific curiosity kicked in, and she thought, ‘Why spoil the kids’ experiment? And I should really let the other teachers figure things out on their own. And, of course, my preliminary findings could be wrong. I should certainly gather more data before I present my theory to the scholarly community.’ And as Mrs. Marlow chuckled at her private joke, she said to herself, Kids!”

Mrs. Marlow, amazed by the kids’ ingenuity, enjoys a moment of mischief herself when she decides to let them play out their game without her interference. She even has an “I wasn’t sure” defense, in case someone in authority accuses her of holding back vital information. She’s now in on the children’s secret and participating in the joke on the other adults.

“Like all teachers, Mrs. Akers understood the ‘divide and conquer’ rule: When you need to get to the bottom of something, you don’t ask the whole class; you ask one student. So she pointed at Lena in the front row and said, ‘Why aren’t you singing?’ Lena hesitated, and then motioned at the kids all around the room and said, ‘Not talking today.’”

The teachers begin to understand what’s going on by quizzing individual students, who answer in three-word bursts. Even when the adults force answers, the kids can continue their game. Just as the students evade the authority of their teachers, the teachers are equally strategic in maintaining control of their classrooms.

“All around the room, kids were having to figure out the new rules for communicating. And for most of them, writing was a lot harder than talking. It was slower, like instant messaging—only less instant, and less fun because there was no computer to mess with. There was so much less give-and-take than there was with talking. The Unshushables weren’t used to that. At all.”

One solution to enforced silence is writing, and Mr. Burton takes advantage of it by having his students write to each other during the entire class hour. They vent many of their silent thoughts, and the writing is good practice for them. They also notice the contrast between the slow, careful effort of writing and the quick mindlessness of most conversation.

“Dave turned and caught Lynsey’s eye, and they half nodded at each other. For one tiny fraction of a second, it wasn’t boys against girls, and it wasn’t a battle. It was two smart kids enjoying an idea.”

Dave’s note to Lynsey about enjoying the competition pushes the story in an entirely new direction. Though he and Lynsey will continue their battle, his open-minded words, and her answer in kind, tempts them to find more common ground and move closer to actual friendship.

“Of course, this wasn’t watching kids learn to use language. These students were already good with words. Almost too good. No, this was watching children try to change how they expressed themselves, trying to use language in a new way.”

Mr. Burton notices that the kids’ no-talking contest forces them to be more expressive writers. The game already has shaken both students and teachers out of their habits and challenged them to come up with new ways to communicate, teach, and learn. Such a task also forces everyone to see each other in new ways.

‘“I’ve been just blurting out whatever’s on my mind—to my sister, to my mom—and at school? I just go on and on. And then I talk on the phone all night. Incredible!’ Lynsey hated to admit it, but Dave Packer might have been right about the top of her head exploding. Because that’s how it had felt at first.”

Silent Lynsey sees herself differently. Without the luxury of speech, she must think more carefully. It’s embarrassing to realize she’s a blabbermouth, but it’s also a revelation that opens up a new world for her: There are other ways to think than out loud.

“The principal raised her eyebrows. ‘A note? You didn’t tell me that.’ Mrs. Marlow shrugged. ‘It was this afternoon. In my classroom.’ Mrs. Hiatt said, ‘It might have been helpful if you’d told me about this sooner.’ The principal paused, letting everyone feel how displeased she was. And in that moment, Mr. Burton thought, ‘Women—always keeping little secrets.’ But he immediately corrected that thought. Because anybody who hangs on to stereotypes about girls and boys…shouldn’t. Especially if he’s a teacher.”

Mr. Burton’s cynical thought about women reveals that male-female animosity extends far beyond childhood. He quickly scolds himself, knowing that such thoughts are ungenerous and unfair. Still, what happens among the kids can echo thoughtlessly in the feelings of their adult overseers.

“‘Words don’t need conserving.’ ‘Maybe they do,’ Kyle said, which was awfully brave of him. And all the kids in the class nodded their agreement with Kyle. Which was also very brave. Mrs. Marlow felt herself getting angry. However, she was an extremely logical person, and she had to admit that Kyle had a point. Anybody who had ever eaten lunch in the teachers’ room or sat through a whole faculty meeting would have to agree that a lot of words get wasted every school day. And all that endless gabbing that had made the Unshushables so famous? Ninety-nine percent waste.”

The teachers are beginning to realize that the student’s three-word rule doesn’t distract them from studying but instead focuses their attention. The kids have stumbled on an educational technique as simple as trying a different way to communicate, and it enlivens and engages them in unexpected ways. The school’s adults must accept the idea that they don’t have all the answers, and that sometimes children have surprisingly good ideas on how to learn.

“Mr. Burton wrote some three-word chunks of his own, which he intended to use in his Human Development paper: —Every word counts.—Choose power words.—Hemingway would approve.—Focus and narrow.—Ideas are collapsible.”

The teachers begin to catch on, some letting the kids talk strangely because it seems to enhance learning, while others—especially Mr. Burton—see even more potential. A childish battle of pride has morphed into an eye-opening experience for everyone and revealed far-reaching benefits.

“The boys and girls had joined forces without even realizing it. Together, they had resisted the pressure from the principal and from their teachers. They had used their wits and teamed up to prove that not talking was a simple, harmless activity. It wasn’t like the boys and girls were getting all buddy-buddy or anything, and it wasn’t like the teasing and taunting had completely stopped. Because old habits are hard to break. But still, cooties were dying all over the place.”

The no-talking rule has become an unstoppable force that changes everyone in its path. Though it’s normally easy for boys and girls to make enemies of each other, the silence game they’re playing also shows that it’s a fairly simple matter to unite them as well. This feeling of unity will linger in their minds and hearts for a long time.

“She stepped quickly into the office and handed Mrs. Chaplin the paper. The secretary read it over quickly and said, ‘And I should…’ The principal held up one finger and said, ‘Type.’ Then she held up two fingers and said, ‘Duplicate.’ And then she held up three fingers and said, ‘Distribute.’ And Mrs. Chaplin said, ‘Got it.’”

Principal Hiatt realizes that Dave’s offer to join the three-word game is a way out of her predicament about how to control the students. She takes instantly to the new rules, and her assistant, Mrs. Chaplin, catches on and joins in as well. In each case, the decision and the act of participating happen at the same moment; this is a good sign that students and staff are about to work together successfully.

“Remember when Dave stood up and shouted at the principal on Wednesday? Did you think no one was counting? Not true: Everyone was counting. Dave had said thirty words—grand words, brave and true. However…all but three of them were illegal.”

Dave’s tirade at Principal Hiatt adds 27 words to the boys’ score and guarantees a victory for the girls. Dave’s heroic defiance will cost the boys the game and will force him to wear a big L on his forehead. He knows the outcome and can live with it because he’s done his best, and then some. Dave’s view of the contest transcends its initial purpose, and he sees how the game serves larger goals.

“With just fifteen seconds to go in the silent cafeteria, Lynsey stood up, looked down at the red notebook, took a deep breath, and—she talked. ‘I have to say this. My whole opinion changed. About boys. You really did the honor system great. And being quiet? Also great, everyone together. So…thanks.’”

With these words, Lynsey cleverly adds enough penalty points to her side to force a tie in the game. After two days of competition during which she and Dave have defended each other and the contest, Lynsey has come to believe that she owes it to the boys to call it a draw. The game wasn’t as much a simple ego contest as it was for her a rite of passage, and she has a newfound admiration for intelligence and humanity in all kinds of people.