Archive for » August, 2007 «

I’m a grill.

I remember my Grandma Denton working with me on my pronunciation of certain words. It began, apparently, when I was trying to tell my grandma that I was a girl. Only I told her I was a grill. I was pretty young, probably around the 3-5 age range. I suspect it was around the time I entered kindergarten, but I don’t know for sure. I remember clearly that moment in time with Grandma Denton trying to get me to hear the difference between grill and girl, and then the success I felt when I finally was able to declare with certainty, I am a girl.

You may wonder why my gender was in question at such a young age. I blame my mother. She, however, would probably blame my hair. I have very thick hair. My hair is so thick that a hair stylist never fails to comment on it, especially when the haircut is over, and she sees all of the hair on the floor. A lot of thick hair with a tendency to tangle. This led to lots of tears as my mom attempted to brush my hair, and this was before they made things like spray detanglers.

And so my mother, who is a very practical mother without a lick of fashion sense, would take me to the beauty salon and have them cut my hair so short that my gender would be called into question. I hated short hair. I still do. And before my mom can complain that she does to have fashion sense, may I just remind her of the jeans fiasco? When I was in sixth or seventh grade, and we went school shopping, my mom purchased my clothes. There were jeans on sale, and Mom realized what a great deal these jeans were, and so she bought me the jeans. Only she didn’t buy me a pair of jeans. She bought me several pairs of the same jeans.

To make matters worse, Mom bought me four pairs of the same jeans with absolutely no difference. It wasn’t like she bought a variety of colors. I, who had my mother as a role model, didn’t question the multiple pairs of jeans. I was not fashion-minded either. That is, I wasn’t until that day, not long into the school year, when I was accused by an older kid of wearing the same jeans every day. After this mortifying experience that happened with an audience, I learned to at least buy different shades of bluejeans.

But this blog wasn’t about my mother’s lack of fashion. And it isn’t about my husband either. (I’m just saying.) It was supposed to be about me. So, back on topic….

I tell you this story about how I was once a grill, in order to let you know that apparently my enunciation skills have not improved.

Not long ago, we had pulled pork sandwiches for dinner. My husband asked me what it was, and I told him, and he looked at me strangely and asked again. I started making motions with my hands as if I were pulling taffy. That’s when my husband realized what I was saying.

Instead of pulled pork, I was apparently saying pooled pork. It has become the latest joke at our house. My husband’s favorite comment? “Does it have chlorine in it?”

Yesterday, I had to say it again only it was pulled beef, and I couldn’t tell for sure if I was saying it right or not. I asked my 10-year-old daughter, Maxine, and she wasn’t sure either. At that point, I couldn’t say pulled until I heard someone else say it. It kept coming out pooled. I think I figured out now that it has something to do with the way you purse your lips. Or maybe I’m full of beans. I don’t know.

I’m just a grill. Why would you expect me to be able to say pulled?

Thanks for playing.

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One does what one can

My niece Jessica is going back to college. She started last week, and she called me up a couple of times since then. The first time was to tell me about her courses and her first day, and the second time was with a question.

I like that she is calling me because it gives me a different perspective than I normally have as the instructor of a college course.

Although she is my niece, she is only five and a half years younger than I am. If I don’t count a few false starts, it’s been a while since she has been in school. She’s nervous about it.

She called with a style question the other day — does she need to put an article in quotations? And I had a hard time answering that question because it depends. Are you using MLA or APA? Do you need to cite pages like an academic paper or is it more like a journalistic style where the citation is informal? So she was asking what you would think would be a simple question, and I had a hard time answering her because I didn’t know what would be right for her teacher.

But in the process of asking her question, Jessica read me the first line in her essay. She did something in her first sentence that drives me batty, and I suspect it is a personal issue. As in, it grates on my nerves but probably not someone else’s nerves. She wrote:

In this essay, I am responding to the article, “blah, blah, blah.”

My problem with this set up is that it refers to the actual essay. It’s supposed to be an introduction, and the purpose of an introduction is orientating the reader to the subject matter not to the structure of the text itself. I guess it reminds me of walking into a classroom where all of the items are labeled to help teach young students to read. I also have a problem when students refer to the actual assignment for similar but slightly different reasons. When you write “in this essay,” you are stating the obvious, and it actually happens a lot in academic writing, but it usually isn’t in the first sentence. It is one of the reasons I struggle with writing in an academic tone. To me, it implies the author thinks the reader is too dumb to get it, although I suspect I am in the minority with that interpretation.

The real offender, in my opinion, is the sentence that refers to the assignment. This is because the reader needs to know the assignment in order to completely understand the essay, and I believe an essay should stand by itself. Keep in mind, I’m talking about the first sentences of an essay. An example of this would be the following sentence:

I agree with the author because of x, y, and z.

OK, what author? Agree with what? This might be OK for a written short answer, but it isn’t appropriate for an essay.

Right now on the WPA listserv (an e-mail list for writing program administrators and instructors and grad students too), there is a discussion about the pronoun one and whether students should use it and/or be taught to use it. And I am not a fan of “one,” but it has its place. But the discussion brought up something I do struggle with as a writer.

When you use a pronoun, and you want to blur the gender, you have the horribly politically correct options: he/she, he or she, or even s/he. For the record, I hate all three options, and I won’t use them. And since I have a journalism background, I tend to use the singular “they,” which is acceptable in speech and journalism, but it can still make some people cringe. Language, however, evolves, and I would argue that this use has evolved into acceptable use. I also recognize not everyone will agree.

When I first began training to tutor writing, I had to write an essay about my thoughts on tutoring. It was an impromptu essay, I believe, and it was pretty much error free. Months later, I found a copy of my essay in my mailbox in the tutoring center. Someone had taken a red pen to it, marking every time I used the word “they” as a singular pronoun. (I also think that teachers using a red pen to correct papers has almost (but not completely) been evolved out of existence.)

That someone turned out to be another tutor who doesn’t have any formal training, but she has been a tutor for a long time. I learned my use of they had prompted a conversation in my absence among the tutors. The lady that stuffed the corrections in my box was apparently appalled by my use. Another one defended me and pointed out my journalism background.

And yes, I had done it deliberately because it is what I prefer. I also prefer to never see the word I in lower-case.

But is the pronoun one OK? I think of ways it is used. No one can argue with this use, for example. I for one certainly wouldn’t. But the use of one often inspires one to think of a stuffy uptight person, possibly a woman, wearing glasses with puckered lips who is looking down her nose at the lowly uninformed audience. It reminds me of that joke about prepositions and the uptight society woman from the north: ala “where y’all from?” And there might be times I want to be able to create that type of feeling in a piece of writing. This ain’t one of them. :-) (OK, in case you missed the smiley, the use of ain’t was for effect.)

So what is your pet peeve or stumper?

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School Daze

School starts today, and then it starts again a week from Wednesday. Or rather it started last Saturday…

OK, so technically, the college started Saturday, and since I teach online, I have already been back to school. Today is the first day I actually drive to the college campus and teach a face-to-face class.

The kids, however, don’t start until Sept. 5, a week from Wednesday. They are shocked that this is their last week of summer vacation. I have threatened to wake them up early each morning this week in preparation for next week’s 6 a.m. wake up calls. All summer long my children have been late-night owls, and I suspect the switch is not going to go easy.

Saturday, Autumn stayed up until 4:15 a.m., at least. Although, she was at a birthday party at someone else’s house. I was not looking forward to taking her home because Autumn gets grouchy when she is tired. As in, she tends to become very rude and mouthy to her siblings, and I spend the day playing the referee. But when I dropped off a friend, Autumn was invited to go for a horseback ride, and I said yes. I even admitted to the mom that this meant I would not have to deal with cranky Autumn versus the siblings. Then cranky Autumn stayed the night at said friend’s house. So, hopefully, when she returns home today, she will have slept a nice restful sleep. (And I have to admit that Autumn gets her traits from her parents who are also horrible grouchy people when they haven’t slept enough.)

I am not the only one in a daze though. Sometime early Saturday morning, I woke up to loud banging on my bedroom door. I had already let the dog in, and so I wanted to ignore the banging and go back to sleep. But the banging persisted, and so I got out of bed, went to the door and let in a sleep-walking member of my family.

It was raining outside too. Not a lot, but enough to make the person wet. The unnamed person went back to bed with little explanation. The next day, the person had no recollection of being outside in the rain. That person claims I was dreaming. I don’t think so.

And I still have to do my school shopping. Ugh.

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Camping Photos

I have a lot of great photos from our camping trip last weekend, and I wanted to share a few.

First , there is me with my birthday/graduation cake. I thought the cake was huge, but there was also a huge group of people there, so it didn’t last long.

mebirthday.jpg

And then there were two adorable cute boys who had won some kind of race. They insisted on having their picture taken with the checkered flags, which are on our rug outside our camper. The dirty one on the left with the strange facial expression belongs to me. The other is my nephew.

winningcombination.jpg

While camping, and when not racing, my children hung out in a fort. The picture doesn’t do it justice. They really had a good thing going. The oar came home with us when we left.

fort.jpg

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Hilarious

My friend Debbie Jones had this video on her blog, but her blog is password protected. So, thank you Debbie for sharing. It made me laugh out loud. :)

I don’t know how to embed the video in my blog, so I’ll share the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jF-yU7Rq2XQ

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