Scripps Spelling Bee 2021: Live Updates – The New York Times

“It is definitely a source of pride from an educational standpoint,” said Shalini Shankar, an anthropologist and the author of “Beeline: What Spelling Bees Reveal about Generation Z’s New Path to Success.”

But it is also something more: The bee has become an occasion for unity within the South Asian American immigrant community, and it all goes back to a historic victory more than three decades ago.

In 1985, Balu Natarajan became the first child of immigrants to win Scripps, prompting an outpouring of support from people of South Asian descent. “Many people who I’d never even met felt a connection to it,” said Mr. Natarajan, 49. “I had no idea how much one could be embraced by a community.”

When he first competed in the Scripps spelling bee in 1983, he remembers only six contestants of Indian descent out of 137 students. A few of them gathered to take a photograph, documenting a small moment of togetherness — a stark contrast to the playing field of today.

Indian Americans are one of the younger, newer groups of immigrants in the United States. Over 60 percent of Indian immigrants living in the United States today arrived after 2000.

Parents were looking for hobbies for their children that prioritized “all kinds of educational attainment,” said Dr. Shankar. Spelling as an extracurricular activity soon began to spread by word of mouth. “They tell their broader ethnic community about it, and they bring each other to these South Asian spelling games, which are really accessible and held in areas where there’s a large concentration of South Asian Americans.”

The hobby is also passed down — within families — to younger siblings and cousins. That was the case for the 2016 Scripps champion, Nihar Janga, 16, whose passion for spelling was born out of a sibling rivalry.

Their family first came across spelling bees through Navya’s bharatanatyam (an Indian classical dance) teacher, who was involved with the nonprofit North South Foundation.

The foundation has over 90 chapters, hosts regional and national educational contests in a variety of subject areas, and raises money through these events for disadvantaged students in India. It’s common for top spellers from the foundation to continue on to Scripps.

For many students, spelling isn’t just a study, but also an all-encompassing way to learn about the world.

“Spelling is not just taking these 500,000 words in the English language and memorizing them and then you win the spelling bee — that’s not how it works,” Nihar said. “I want people to think of spelling just like any other competition, like wanting to learn the story behind that field and learning how that field can apply to the world.”

“You can’t just eat protein powder and then go be good at football,” he added.

• hyperpyrexia: an exceptionally high fever. “The disease, which reportedly was first described five years ago, is called malignant hyperpyrexia, or lethally high fever.” — Sept. 23, 1971

• nasopharyngeal: of, relating to, or affecting the nose and pharynx or the nasopharynx. “City testing sites use two types of nasal swabs — a traditional test, known as a nasopharyngeal swab and affectionately called a ‘brain poke,’ and a newer approach, known as an anterior nares sample, that is inserted more shallowly.” — Sept. 17, 2020

• vamoose: to depart quickly. “Every town, every hamlet, and every man is for the Union, and if a single ranche in the gallant Grizzly Bear State harbors a traitor, the rascal had better vamoose at once.” — May 23, 1861

• arenicolous: living, burrowing, or growing in sand. “Incidentally, marine arenicolous annelids are commonly known to fishermen as sandworms.” — Dec. 3, 1928

• gelometer: an instrument for measuring jelly strength. “Studying memorabilia like an original gelometer, a contraption that tested Jell-O texture, some people spoke in spiritual terms.” — July 27, 1997

• garrulity: the quality of being given to prosy, rambling, or tedious loquacity; pointlessly or annoyingly talkative. “His exhausted servants are forced to listen for hours to revival services conducted by him on a wheezy organ and he is subject to alternate fits of garrulity and taciturnity.” — April 16, 1923

• instauration: restoration after decay, lapse, or dilapidation; an act of instituting or establishing something. “Seven years later, General Franco moved to make Juan Carlos, a student in Italy and Switzerland, the future king by arranging to have him continue his higher education in Spain, in what was later explained as ‘instauration’ rather than ‘restoration’ of a monarchy.” — Oct. 31, 1975

• scansion: the analysis of verse to show its meter. “In a choreographic line she will extend, or shorten, the images of her dance, rather as a poet would use scansion.” — May 13, 1974

• anticaries: tending to inhibit the formation of caries; tending to prevent tooth decay. “On the other hand, cheese seems to have an anticaries action by preventing bacteria from using sugar to produce decay-enhancing acid on the tooth surfaces.” — Aug. 21, 1985

• pettifoggery: methods that are petty, underhanded, or disreputable; one given to quibbling over trifles. “James Randi, a MacArthur award-winning magician who turned his formidable savvy to investigating claims of spoon bending, mind reading, fortunetelling, ghost whispering, water dowsing, faith healing, U.F.O. spotting and sundry varieties of bamboozlement, bunco, chicanery, flimflam, flummery, humbuggery, mountebankery, pettifoggery and out-and-out quacksalvery, as he quite often saw fit to call them, died on Tuesday at his home in Plantation, Fla.” — Oct. 21, 2020

• panicle: a compound racemose, which describes a kind of flower cluster. “I spent a whole morning last week with my nose buried in lilacs at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, wandering through a collection of about 150 shrubs, from the old Chinese lilacs, with their wonderfully gnarled limbs and delicate, airy flowers, to the latest hybrids, with big voluptuous flower heads, or panicles, a bit too showy for my taste.” — May 11, 1997

• fanion: a small flag used originally by horse brigades and now by soldiers and surveyors to mark positions. “A fanion, fluttering in the wind, marked the spot on the hillside where the children were convinced gnomes lived below.”

• clinquant: glittering with gold or tinsel. “The guests at the gala, clinquant in finery and jewels for the ‘Shining Knight’ theme, were mostly unhappy to learn that the dinner options were lamprey pie, cabbage chowder or gruel.”

• thooid: resembling a wolf; used of a wolf, dog, or jackal as distinguished from the foxes or alopecoid (like a fox) members of the genus Canis. “The puppy, despite her best efforts at projecting thooid authority, failed to intimidate the school bus as it drove by her window.”

The first version of the national contest as we know it took shape in 1925. That year, The Courier-Journal of Louisville, Ky., asked several other newspapers, acting as sponsors, to help it take the Kentucky state spelling bee to the national level.

The U.S. education commissioner at the time, John Tigert, wrote to the Louisville newspaper that the contest would “awaken a new enthusiasm for careful and accurate spelling.” More than two million schoolchildren sought to compete, and the finals came down to nine on a June night in Washington, D.C.

Frank Neuhauser, an 11-year-old from Kentucky, won in 90 minutes on the word “gladiolus,” a plant with sword-shaped leaves that his family happened to grow in the garden. He got $500, a parade in Louisville and a meeting with President Calvin Coolidge. (He grew up to be a lawyer, and an autograph signer at other bees.)

The media company Scripps took over sponsorship of the bee in 1941, though the contest was canceled from 1943 through 1945 because of World War II. It first aired on television in 1946, and for the next half a century various networks broadcast it, turning viewers into living room spellers around the country.

Over those decades, the contest became more professionalized and difficult. Some parents hire past champions as coaches, or spend money to travel to minor-league bees. Online study programs can help spellers review thousands of words at a time, offering instant feedback. And amateur versions and variations of bees have proliferated, including two from The Times.

Again and again, readers wrote in with haunting memories of the words that defeated them in elementary and middle school.

Gabrielle Tandet, 29, from Brooklyn:

I was in fifth grade in the early 2000s and just old enough to be allowed to watch MTV. When I made it to the final schoolwide spelling bee, I was always careful to ask for the allowed information and spell the word in my head first … until I was presented with the word ‘ludicrous.’ No need for etymologies or uses in a sentence, I thought — I knew this one! And with no hesitation, in front of all my teachers and the whole school, I proudly spelled out L-U-D-A-C-R-I-S. It never occurred to me that the rapper Ludacris might not take the spelling of his name from the dictionary.

Mark Zedella, 64, from Fletcher, N.C.:

I missed the same word two years in a row, I believe in Grades 5 and 6. “Accommodate” was my downfall. I spelled it “accommadate” both times. So close, but so far.

Trevor Mahoney, 33, from Royal Oak, Mich.:

In 2002, I competed in the televised rounds of the National Spelling Bee. The word I missed was “sculpin.” The elimination itself wasn’t anything different, save for my voice cracking on TV. As it turned out years later, however, a brewery in San Diego has made the Sculpin IPA and its variants their flagship beers. This led to many friends sending me pictures of them drinking sculpins when they visited the West Coast, serving as a constant reminder of my downfall. While I was not able to conquer the word as a teenager, I finally was able to conquer the drink as an adult.

“We’re throwing the dictionary at you,” he told the spellers. “And so far, you are showing this dictionary who is boss.”

The eight spellers made it through 47 straight words, giving high-fives and sharing hugs as one after another defeated another word. They were crowned co-champions, and each received $50,000 and a trophy. (Their names and words are at the bottom of this item. You can try your hand at the meanings of their words in a quiz here.)

There have been occasional co-champions over the years, including in 1950, 1962 and 2014 and 2015. And there had been marathon bees before — the 2017 event went 36 rounds, mostly between two spellers. But the field is typically winnowed down to fewer than four spellers by the 16th round.

In the aftermath of the so-called “octochamps,” Scripps announced that it would accept fewer “wild card” participants, reducing the overall number of competitors. The 2019 competition had 565 contestants, a record number of spellers.

Organizers also added a “word meaning component” — rounds of multiple-choice questions — and a spell-off sequence that would take place if, at the very end of the competition, the spellers seem deadlocked.

“Just as with spelling, word meaning is core to students’ understanding of the English language,” J. Michael Durnil, the executive director, said at the time.

The champions of 2019 were, along with the final words they spelled:

• Rishik Gandhasri, 13, of San Jose, Calif.: auslaut (the final sound in a word or syllable).

• Erin Howard, 14, of Huntsville, Ala.: erysipelas (a disease associated with intense inflammation of the skin).

• Saketh Sundar, 13, of Clarksville, Md.: bougainvillea (any of a genus of tropical American woody vines and shrubs).

• Shruthika Padhy, 13, of Cherry Hill, N.J.: aiguillette (a shoulder cord worn by military aides).

• Sohum Sukhatankar, 13, of Dallas: pendeloque (a diamond or other gemstone cut in the form of a pear-shaped brilliant; a usually pear-shaped glass pendant).

• Abhijay Kodali, 12, of Flower Mound, Texas: palama (the webbing on the feet of aquatic birds).

• Christopher Serrao, 13, of Whitehouse Station, N.J.: cernuous (inclining or nodding, usually relating to plants).

• Rohan Raja, 13, of Irving, Texas: odylic (of or relating to odyl, a hypothetical force proposed by a 19th-century Prussian scientist).

J. Michael Durnil, who took over as director of the Scripps Spelling Bee in March, said the finals — the only in-person part of the competition — have been structured so that students maintain a certain level of social distance. The declaration of the winner, who is usually rushed in a celebration by fellow spellers, will be a more staid affair, with the announcer on one side of stage and the winner on the other. Instead of approaching a microphone stand, spellers will have small individual mics.

Despite the changes, Mr. Durnil, 59, said he expects the finals will be more exciting than in the past. The interview has been edited and condensed.

How have you structured this year’s finals?

Nearly everything is new this year because of the pandemic. Every element of the bee, from the school level all the way to the national competition has been governed by this pandemic.

Through the preliminary and the semifinals, we have been virtual, with a proctor present with a student to ensure the integrity of the competition.

We have also added two new competitive elements. We have a word-meaning round where the pronouncer will give the word and then, through multiple choice of three choices, the speller has to tell us what the word means.

We then have the spell-off. That will give those remaining spellers who are virtually tied a predetermined list of words and 90 seconds to spell as many of those words as they can.

The spell-off sounds exciting. Do you hope it comes to that?

We’re prepared should we need to use it. I think that all of the elements that we have devised this year, we believe will help identify a champion. The reason a speller enters the world of competitive spelling is to be a champion.

Is this all being done to avoid having eight winners again?

I wouldn’t say that we’re trying to avoid that. If 2019 showed us anything, it’s that the preparation level of competitive spellers has increased. The competitive elements we’re adding is to match that level of preparing.

What keeps you up at night?

The pandemic keeps me up at night. The health and safety of our staff, our colleagues, the participants and the sponsors, the unpredictability. I feel pretty confident that we have left no stone unturned.

Trust me, we’ve thought about everything. Or have tried to.

The contest’s organizers have also added another potential challenge since the last Scripps Bee, in 2019, when eight students shared the championship in a tie. In the event of a tie this year, the finalists will face a lightning round spell-off. The champion — or co-champions, if the spell-off itself ends in a tie — will receive a $50,000 cash prize.

The 11 contenders for that prize are: Roy Seligman of the Bahamas; Bhavana Madini of New York City; Sreethan Gajula of Charlotte, N.C.; Ashrita Gandhari of Leesburg, Va.; Avani Joshi of Loves Park, Ill.; Zaila Avant-garde of New Orleans; Chaitra Thummala of San Francisco; Vivinsha Veduru of Fort Worth; Dhroov Bharatia of Dallas; Vihaan Sibal of Waco, Texas; and Akshainie Kamma of Austin, Texas.

The final round begins at 8 p.m. Eastern time, and will be broadcast from Walt Disney World in Orlando, Fla., on ESPN2 and ESPNU. We’ll be covering it all here, and if you’d like to try your hand at a different Spelling Bee, you can play the Times versions here and below.