Affix

None of these tools actually work. They are just for show. Affix doesn't do carpentry. The tools help her teach. The workshop also has a large rack of wooden blocks. Each block has a morpheme stamped on it. A morpheme is a tiny piece of a word. It could be a root, a prefix, or a suffix.

Affix teaches by stacking the blocks.

She has a block stamped nation. She has a block stamped -al. She stacks them: nation + -al = national. She has a block stamped -ize. She stacks: national + -ize = nationalize. She has a block stamped -ation. She stacks: nationalize + -ation = nationalization.

The four blocks together make a four-block word. The word is long. The word is spellable. The word was built from four pieces. The children could see and touch each one.

Affix's real name is Wyn. She grew up in a family of carpenters. Her father had run a small woodworking shop. It was in a market town. The shop had made furniture. Tables, chairs, cabinets, small chests. Wyn had grown up handling wood. By the time she was eight, she knew how parts fit together.

A chair was a seat. It had four legs, a back, and two cross-supports. Each part needed the right shape. It needed the right size. Even the wood grain had to face the right way. If any part was wrong, the chair would not work. But if every part was right, the chair assembled smoothly. Once you understood the parts of a chair, you could build any chair.

Wyn used this idea for words. She was fourteen. Her teacher taught about suffix-stacking at school. The teacher had written nationalization on the board. The teacher had explained that the word was nation + al + ize + ation. Wyn had stared at it. She had said: "That is a chair."

The teacher had said: "What?"

Wyn had said: "A chair is a seat. It has four legs, a back, and two cross-supports. Nationalization is nation plus -al plus -ize plus -ation. It's the same idea! If you know the pieces, you know how to build it. Words are like chairs. They are built from morphemes, not wood. But the same thinking works for both."

The teacher was so happy! "You should teach suffix-stacking," she said. "The QuillSpell academy needs smart people. Will you think about it?"

Wyn had considered it. She had talked to her father. Her father had hoped she would take over his shop. He was sad at first. But then he changed his mind. He had said: "You will still be building things. You will just be building things made of letters instead of made of wood. The same thinking. I am proud."

Wyn walked to the academy when she was nineteen. Lex hired her. Wyn had explained her chair-and-word idea in the interview. Lex had laughed and offered her the job right away. Wyn got the name Affix. It was a special teaching name. An affix is a prefix or a suffix. Affix's job is to stack them together. Wyn has been the workshop's teacher for sixteen years.

In her workshop, she starts every first-day lesson the same way. She walks to the wooden-block rack. She pulls out, in order: the root act, the suffix -ion, the prefix re-, the suffix -ize*. She sets them on the workbench. She turns to the class.

She says: "This is the word reactionization. It is not a common word. Is it even a real word? Let me think." She pauses. "Actually, no, it's not a real word. It could be a word, but nobody uses it." She points. "But reaction, reactionary, reactionism, reactionize are all real words. They all use the root act. And they use different combinations of these affixes. You can read them. You can spell them. You can even figure out what they mean. Why? Because you know the pieces!*"`

She demonstrates. Act + -ion = action (a doing). Re- + action = reaction (a doing-back, a response). Reaction + -ary = reactionary. This means 'having to do with reactions.' Sometimes it's used in politics. But the word parts are simple. Reaction + -ism = reactionism. This means 'a belief system about reactions.'