Alexis Tang, 11, says she has been preparing for the National Spelling Bee since she learned to read. But in the last few months, it seems as if life has become a series of scenes with single words scrolling across a screen: she learned how to spell plaque on a visit to the dentist, and discovered the word genesis in her constant scrutiny of street signs.
On Wednesday, that attention to the written word paid off, when Alexis, a sixth grader at the Spence School, spelled egress correctly in the Daily News Spelling Bee. She won a trophy half her height and will join Tuesday’s winner, Arvind Mahankali, a seventh grader from J.H.S. 74 Nathaniel Hawthorne, in representing New York City at the National Spelling Bee in June.
Alexis said reading and strategy were key.
“I’ve been reading for a long time, since when I was really young, like first grade,” Alexis said. “So I guess I’ve been practicing forever.”
A total of 106 students from all five boroughs gathered over two days to compete for two spots in the national competition. To get a sense of what they were up against, follow the boldface words in this post.
Students competed against others from their alphabetical barrio: On the first day, Hadassah Akinleye, from Bedford Stuyvesant Collegiate, through Lea Marie Medina, from Forest Hills Montessori School, and on Wednesday, Dayvon Miller, from M.S. 296, through Matthew Zucker, from Hunter College High School.
It was an egalitarian start for all. On stage, they represented an eclectic cross section of this megalopolis: a mohawk, hijabs, long black Orthodox dress, Catholic plaid, ties and cornrows.
Students shuffled to two microphones and stood synchronous on the stage in the Hunter College High School auditorium. Some competitors spelled in staccato — others in adagio. According to the rules, once a student starts spelling, he or she cannot efface or change letters. Many, perhaps chary of the misspelling bell, backed away slowly after their word. And when the bell rang, many students looked as if they had just tasted quinine.
In spite of the stress, the 54 students remained amicable even as the ding of the misspelling bell whittled down their ranks. Parents, siblings and classmates in the audience sometimes waved banners with names, applauded for hard words and gasped when the bell stung. A king and queen in costume from the the restaurant Medieval Times, a sponsor, looked like royal hucksters. Dennis M. Walcott, the chancellor of New York City schools, was on hand to congratulate the winners on their spelling phenomenon.
Words arrived from across the globe. Students met “gulag,” “provolone” and “satori.” Some words, though foreign in origin, were easy — as in bowery, which means farm in Holland. One student got “gourami,” which is a type of fish in Malaysia. For some it was just providence.
Though fastidious, the judges were not infallible. A judge looked at the wrong word and accidentally spelled out the next word — amnesia — and no one seemed to notice in the hubbub. A judge rang the bell accidentally. Consensus ruled in favor of the student. Another time, the pronouncer called the contest to a halt. Judges had missed an incognito misspelling — a C instead of a G. An instant-replay-audio-recording of the spelling revealed the spelling fatality.
Alexis prepared for her spelling sortie with the help of others. A couple of good Samaritans from her school, Spence, quizzed her for three hours a week after school. Two other classmates competed on Tuesday. Alexis said her goal was to take home the trophy, which has a golden bee sitting on four wooden columns and almost four feet tall.
Her mother, Joyce Tang, said Alexis was thinking words and spelling everywhere she went. When she accompanied her mother to a dentist's office, the dentist asked her how to spell plaque (Alexis did not know then, but she does now). Another time, she asked her mother about a street sign with the word genesis, and asked whether it was a real word, to add to her repertoire. She found a video of a past national champion and picked up a strategy to make letters on her palm as she spelled.
Alexis was born in Singapore, but grew up here. When she won, roughly two hours after the start, she was speechless.
“I don’t know what 'egress' means,” Alexis said. Her mom liked that Alexis’s jacket said “Guess” on the back.
And as Alexis clutched the trophy that strained her arms, her face said eureka and geronimo.