AzarGrammar.com Team Blog

Lessons Learned in the French Classroom

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 17:43:00 +0000

By Tamara Jones

ESL Instructor, SHAPE Language Center, Belgium
jonestamara@hotmail.com

It’s not that I have never studied another language before. As a Canadian, I was forced to spend years conjugating French verbs that I never used outside class. I have also had the pleasure of living abroad, both in Russia, where learning the language was a completely organic experience based on the need to communicate, and in Korea, where I traded English for Korean lessons, but could not really speak beyond ordering in a restaurant. But, after 12 years of teaching ESL and EFL in a variety of contexts, I recently moved with my husband to Belgium. In addition to teaching English here, I also immediately signed up for elementary-level French classes. After years of being on one side of the desk, I am now on the other, and I am continuously surprised at my own reaction to violations of what I have long held to be teaching “truths.”

Lesson 1: English Only?

Interestingly for me and frustratingly for my besieged French teacher, the target-language-only rule that dominates my English classes loses clout the minute I switch roles and enter my French class. Sometimes, if I don’t understand a grammar point the teacher is describing, or if I don’t remember a certain word, rather than laboriously try to negotiate meaning In French with the English speaker sitting next to me, I simply ask in English, “Does she mean …?” When students have done this in my classes in the past, I have reminded them to speak in English, but now I can see the benefit to quick, quiet explanatory conversations in the first language. My French teacher even speaks in English (insert gasps and shrieks of horror) sometimes to explain a particularly tricky grammar point. Although this would have certainly garnered my disapproval as a teacher-mentor six months ago, now, as a student, I am less horrified and more relieved at finally being able to understand what the teacher is trying to explain. Sometimes, when possible, I believe that a grammar explanation is better delivered in the students’ native language rather than in the target language, even beyond pre-beginning and beginning level classes. It is simply the easiest way to move from the French subjunctive to the next activity.

Lesson 2: Letting Go of English

As a teacher I know that grammar does not necessarily directly translate. I encourage my students to “think in English” as much as possible and let go of their native language grammar rules. Like following my own rules regarding the use of target-language-only, I have also found this theory easier to swallow on the “teaching” side of the table. I am surprised at how often I have to remind myself that there won’t always be an exact English equivalent to the French lesson on the agenda. For example, just the other day, we were learning how to speak about time. In English, we would use since with a point in time and for with a length of time. I am comfortable with this. However, I had the hardest time getting my head around the fact that the French time word, depuis, is much more flexible than our since. Even though I am consciously aware that it is important to avoid trying to translate grammar concepts, I have to repeatedly remind myself to let go.

Lesson 3: Writing First … Sometimes!

As an ESL and EFL teacher, most of the activities I plan for my students tend to focus on oral production. We spent class time learning new concepts and practicing them in conversation or with communicative Grammar games. Writing seemed to take too much time and was better done alone and at home. In addition, I argued that since real life does not allow for much preparation time, why should students have preparation time before speaking? So, you might imagine my surprise when I found myself looking forward to the times when my French teacher instructs us write our dialogues out in pairs before delivering them. My vocabulary is so much richer, even without heavy reliance on my dictionary, and my grammar is markedly more accurate when I am given more time to plan, though in retrospect this seems obvious to me. More interestingly, though, I was surprised by how much I truly enjoyed having time to think, and how much more I actually retained from the activity. As a teacher, I would have worried that this activity was too boring. In addition, as inundated as we have been with notions of communicative competence, I would have worried that this kind of quiet work would have actually hampered my students’ efforts to communicate. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I now believe that a mixture of activities that prompt spontaneous output and activities that allow for a more thoughtful approach to the target structure is wise.

Again and again, I have had experiences as a French student that call into question several long-held beliefs about teaching and language acquisition. I can only hope that, as I develop as a French speaker, I will also continue to grow as an English teacher.

Does Method Matter?

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 17:53:00 +0000

By Lida Baker
Los Angeles, California, USA
http://lidarbaker.googlepages.com/

A wise colleague of mine once said, "It doesn't matter what method you use to teach a language. The only thing that matters is whether your students like you or not." I don't think he was advocating the total absence of any method, but my own experience partly supports the importance of having a teacher you trust and respect.

I learned Hebrew as a child in Israel. My family lived on a kibbutz and there was not another English speaker in sight. I was 8 years old and within two months I was speaking Hebrew fluently. Back in the U.S., I started learning Spanish in 7th grade. I had good--and a few great--teachers all the way through college. In middle school the teaching method was pure audio-lingual. By high school and college it verged into the direct method. In the advanced college classes we read literature and talked about it (in Spanish). I learned successfully using all these methods.

In college, besides Spanish, I studied French, Italian, and Arabic using the direct method. I was successful with French (great teachers at UCLA, small classes, well trained teachers), unsuccessful with Italian (evening course, 40 students, unskilled teacher who spent the whole class talking “at” us, no pair- or group work), successful with Arabic (fabulous, enthusiastic, skilled teacher who had us talking within weeks). Then after grad school, wanting to continue Arabic, I enrolled in a night class. A disaster! The teacher blatantly favored students who could speak a little and left the rest of us in the dust. It was so insulting I dropped the class and that was the end of my Arabic.

Then I took Dutch. It's my parents' native language and I was super-motivated to learn so I could speak to my cousins in Holland. But the teacher was dreadful. His method was a mix of Grammar Translation and telling us about his personal problems--in English. He made every female in the class squirm. I dropped that class as well and never studied Dutch again.

So, what does this rambling account prove? Method does matter, but so do other factors. Of the seven languages I've studied, I dropped three of them because the teachers were unskilled, inappropriate, or failed to motivate me. I think I can learn using any method, but the teacher had better be good!

Resolutions or Real Promises?

noreply@blogger.com (Ela Newman) — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 16:31:00 +0000

By Ela Newman
University of Texas at Brownsville

I’ve never created a list of my New Year resolutions, but I have made mental notes of a few of those New Year’s Day promises. I once promised to eat no bad chocolate. I got months into the year with that one. Another time, I swore to exercise more, or more or less- I’ve forgotten which it was now.

It seems to me that many of us, regardless of whether we actually produce lists of New Year resolutions (and when we are not joking around about bad chocolate) make promises about things that are acutely relevant, or inspirational, or rewarding, in our private as well as our professional lives.

This year, this “teaching year,” I am resolving to be a good observer.

But how could being a good observer benefit my students? And how could observation itself be seen as effective use of my time? Well, let me see...

Can observation bring relevance to the L2 teaching-learning process? Apart from helping the teacher decide on the pace of teaching, the type of material to be studied, and the techniques that can be used, its fruits can suggest the order in which we may want to arrange the material.

Typically, we assign a level of difficulty as well as a “place in line” to a given grammar structure. For example, many of us will introduce the Simple Present before we expose students to “the workings” of the Simple Past. By tradition, the Present is taught earlier because it is structurally easier, and perhaps also psychologically more basic, at least for young children, but it seems rarely to be more experientially relevant than the Past, particularly for older children and adults.

An L2 learner myself, I remember feeling a bit impatient when, in my first English class, it took a couple of months before I was exposed to ways of talking about the past. To my mind, the past tense seemed more pertinent than the present. I had the impression that my classmates and I would speak about the events of yesterday, last week, or last year more frequently than we would talk about what we do regularly or habitually, so we were eager to do the same in English.

Maybe, if I’m a good observer of my students this year, I will notice where their grammar interests, as well as their grammar needs, lie. I realize that teaching should not be guided excessively by such student impressions, but I feel that this impression is worth a second thought and it may help me make my lessons more relevant without making them measurably more difficult in terms of the ordering of grammatical structures.

Can observation bring inspiration? (Well, the two words rhyme anyway!) We know that watching students become genuinely involved in an activity we’ve prepared can “give us wings” and encourage us to continue creating tasks of a similar sort. But it can also motivate us to try something new or unusual.

I am a fan of discovery-based tasks, and although I realize that they can’t be used daily (they tend to be time-consuming) and that not all students feel comfortable with them- some students simply want the teacher to explain all the grammar rules- these tasks do have a place in many classrooms and the results of observation can help us decide if and when such unusual activities might be used.

Also, if we allow students themselves to become observers, they too can draw motivation, even inspiration, from the experience. Discovery-based activities, which involve language learners in close examination of usage material, encourage students to discover language patterns outside the classroom as well; these students usually realize they can become more independent learners.

Another way that students can become inspired by observation involves reflection on their mother tongue. I’ve noticed that students enjoy describing structures of their native language. (Ask me a question about noun cases of Polish and I’ll feel Goosebumps.) Tasks featuring native language descriptions give grammar discussions a special, personal touch. Students “observe” native language usage, and as a result often find studying grammar more naturally interesting.

Can observation be rewarding? I think so. It can show us which of our ideas work and which were “good tries.” And I believe that such news is gratifying since it points at what activities we should definitely keep in our folders and which ones need to be rethought (or, if I dare say, “tossed”).

I’ve heard that we are more likely to fulfill our New Year resolutions as “real promises” if they are realistic, valuable, and acted upon immediately. I believe that with effort I can become a good observer this year, and I’m confident that there are material benefits to doing so. Now, all I have to do is act (and soon, I guess!).

How about you? Are you planning any big or small instructional changes this year?

Happy New Year, everyone!

My Last Blog Entry

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 20:00:00 +0000

I’ve never been good at good-byes. I end up trying to hold back emotions and risk coming off cold and distant, or I end up letting it all hang out and risk looking like a sentimental slob. I’ll try to maintain the middle ground here.

This has been a wonderful experience for me. First, I was flattered by being invited to write a blog on AzarGrammar.com and by being told that I could write on whatever topic came to mind and say whatever I felt. There aren’t too many people that would give somebody free reign like that, and I’ve appreciated that confidence in me very much.

I hope that, over the past year, I have given you food for thought that kept you interested and wanting to come back to read some more. I hope I’ve entertained and even amused you at times. I know that I thoroughly enjoyed working on each and every blog entry, and I hope that that came through as you read my pieces.

I would like to thank Betty Azar and Sue Van Etten for their invitation to write this blog, for their guidance, and for their moral support during the year. They’re both marvelous professionals and an absolute joy to work with. Thank you, Betty! Thank you, Sue! And thank you for all the kind things you’ve said about me, Sue. I’m blushing!

I’m very glad that the blog will go on and morph into something with such exciting possibilities. I think this is a wonderful chance for all of you who have important, interesting, enlightening things to contribute to have your thoughts published in cyberspace. What a great opportunity to share your thoughts with thousands of your colleagues worldwide. Wow! So please do take advantage of the invitation that Sue has made. Let’s hear from you. I may even pop up once in a while to add a thought or two to what one of you has posted.

So I’ll take my leave now with one last thank-you, and this one’s for all of you who have stopped by over this past year and visited with me in my cyberspace living room. It’s been a great experience for me, and I feel confident that the blog will continue to be a great experience for all of you who roll your sleeves up, pitch in, and post your thoughts on this site. I can’t wait to read what you guys have to say!

Richard Firsten

Be Our Guest (Blogger)!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 18:21:00 +0000

Changes are afoot at the Grammar Guy blog. Much to our dismay, our beloved Grammar Guy, Richard Firsten, is retiring from the blogosphere at the end of 2008. We hope he will continue to post an entry from time to time as the muse speaks to him, but he will no longer be writing regular weekly blog pieces.

So . . . we’ve been brainstorming -- dare I say agonizing? -- about what to do with the Grammar Guy blog. When in doubt, it’s always good to revisit the website’s mission statement:

Our Mission and Vision:

This website’s mission is to support teachers who incorporate a grammar component in their ESL/EFL teaching.

Our vision is a global community of ESL/EFL teachers who share resources, learn from one another, and support one another in their work.

With that guidance in mind, we asked ourselves: How can we best use the blog to support our mission and vision for AzarGrammar.com?

The answer was obvious. Instead of replacing Richard (who is irreplaceable!), we need to turn the microphone and the spotlight over to teachers. We need to know what's on your mind. We need to hear from many voices with diverse perspectives. We need to let teachers create the conversation.

So we’re turning the blog over to you. If you’d like to be a guest blogger on AzarGrammar.com, let’s talk. E-mail me at webmanager@azargrammar.com for details.

Richard leaves some big shoes to fill. The depth and breadth of his knowledge of grammar and English Language Teaching is stunning. He’s also a talented writer. That’s a formidable skill set. No one makes grammar more fun and accessible.

We wanted fun, friendly, substantive content for teachers who incorporate grammar in their teaching. Richard delivered all that and more with the irrepressible Firsten flair. Thank you, Richard, for helping us get AzarGrammar.com off to a great start.

Best wishes to all for a peaceful and prosperous new year.

Sue Van Etten

Website Manager

Azar Associates

webmanager@azargrammar.com

Why I Like Incomplete Dialogues

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 23:36:00 +0000

I’ve recently discussed cloze procedures and why I like them so much. Well, if there’s anything I like better than cloze procedures, it’s incomplete dialogues*, which work best when students are paired up so you can put into practice that old saying “Two heads are better than one.” These exercises really get students thinking. Here’s a very simple example of what I’m talking about:

A: _______________________?
B: Fine, thanks. Hey, I’m going to the cafeteria for lunch. ________________?
A: No, thanks. I’ve already had lunch.

Students should first read the entire dialogue at least twice before attempting to fill in the missing parts. You, as the teacher, should stress this helpful hint: The line that follows the blank area they’re about to work on probably contains information that will help them figure out what may work logically in the blank.

So why am I gung-ho about incomplete dialogues? There are some really compelling reasons that make them such effective exercises. They serve as marvelous activities for reading comprehension, for sensitivity to language components, and for critical thinking. Students can stretch their language ability and, because they’re working in pairs, help their classmates learn, too. Incomplete dialogues also allow students the special freedom found in manipulative and communicative activities.

To show you more about what I mean, here are the two major areas in which the skills I’ve just noted come into play through the use of incomplete dialogues:

Reading Comprehension: Students are forced to read thoroughly and find clues within the dialogue to identify where the situation takes place and enhance their understanding of what’s going on. Attention to punctuation is also very important as meaning can change, depending on what punctuation has been used and where it’s been placed. Here’s an example:

A: Riccardo’s Pizza. Carla _________________. __________________?
B: Yes, please. ______________________________________________.
A: I’m afraid that job’s been taken.

Let’s just see how much there is for the students to deal with in the excerpt above which I took out of a longer exercise I used to use with my intermediate students. To begin with, the readers have to determine what the situation is (Are the speakers face to face? Are they on the phone?) Because of the way Speaker A (Carla) starts the conversation, the readers should deduce that the speakers are on the phone.

Now, from what’s referred to in reading pedagogy as “knowledge of the world,” the readers must decide what Carla could possibly say in the short blank following her name. Thinking back to similar situations they’ve experienced on the phone when calling a company or restaurant, the readers should understand that Carla is saying something to identify herself (“Carla speaking” or “Carla here” or maybe even her last name).

Next, we have a long blank ending in a question mark. The readers must see the question mark (and it’s surprising how many students fail to note punctuation as a clue at first glance), realize there must be a question in that blank, and determine what would be appropriate for Carla to ask the caller at that moment. From their “knowledge of the world,” the readers should be able to figure out that Carla is probably saying something like, “May I help you?” or “What can I do for you?” But wait a minute! The following line begins with Speaker B saying, “Yes, please.” That means we have to eliminate “What can I do for you?” as a possible question for Carla to ask because “Yes, please” wouldn’t be an appropriate response to “What can I do for you?” We’ve got to conclude that Carla has said, “May I help you?” and then Speaker B’s response works just fine.

Finally, how can we figure out what Speaker B says next? We need to look at Carla’s reply; that’s where we’ll get the hint that we need to fill in the next blank. Carla says, “I’m afraid that job’s been taken.” Her answer gives us quite a bit of information to work with. Since she's mentioned “that job,” Speaker B must have asked about a specific job, so we know that we’ve got to think of a specific job to put in the blank. In addition, Carla says she’s “afraid that job’s been taken,” and this information leads us to the conclusion that Speaker B was attempting to apply for that job ― otherwise, Carla would have no reason to make that statement. So we have these two pieces of information: (1) Speaker B wants to apply for a job, and (2) it’s for a specific job that he/she knows about, not just any job. (Everything we’ve been going over here demonstrates clearly how important critical thinking is to reading and language learning in general.)

So what can we put in that final blank? Possibilities are “I’m calling about the ad I saw in the paper for a waiter” or “I’d like to know if you’re still looking for a busboy” or “A friend of mine told me he saw your ad for a cashier.” Notice how the situation we’ve been working with is deliberately left quite open; that to allow the students to come up with different ideas.

While your students are paired up and working on these dialogues, you can walk around the room and offer assistance when they seem stuck. When they’re finished and you’ve checked over their work, have the best of the completed dialogues presented to the class in the final versions. I guarantee that your students will find it interesting to compare what they’ve come up with to what their classmates have created.

Sensitivity to Language Components: The readers must search out clues within the dialogue that can establish the correct verb tense or aspect, and those words that students typically rush over, like prepositions, take on an importance which the students don’t often realize they have. Just look at the following examples:

A: Who are you sending that fax ______?
B: Our main office.

A: Who are you sending that fax ______?
B: My boss. She asked me to get it out right away.

The students are invited to become more sensitive to language by having to figure out which prepositions will work in these blanks in order to elicit the responses provided. This is another use of critical thinking.

Here are two more short examples of incomplete dialogues. You can make them as easy or as difficult as you choose to. You know what your students can handle, so try to create incomplete dialogues that are progressively more of a challenge to your students as they get more and more comfortable with working on this kind of activity. And, by the way, if you create them with a word processing program, use 1½ or 2 spaces between lines so that your students have enough room to fill in the blanks comfortably.

A: That’s not your jacket. It’s my jacket! ______________________?
B: Aw, can’t I _______________________________ for this evening?
A: No, you can’t! You should have ________________________ first.

Ken: ______________________________________________________.
Hal: Really? When?
Ken: ______________________________________________________.
Hal: Well, that’s wonderful! Let me be the first to congratulate you!

A: Oh! I just dropped my glove. Would you mind_________________?
B: Why don’t you ____________________________________________?
A: Can’t you see that _________________________________________?
B: Oh, I didn’t notice. All right. Here you are.

If you haven’t already incorporated incomplete dialogues into your repertoire of effective classroom activities, give them a try. I think you’ll be very pleased with how marvelous a language-learning tool they can be.

*Richard Firsten with Patricia Killian. The ELT Grammar Book: A Teacher-Friendly Reference Guide. Alta Book Center Publishers. 2002

A Conversation with Amir

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 04:30:00 +0000

For quite awhile, I had an ongoing conversation via e-mail with a young EFL teacher from the Middle East who’d come across my blog and determined to start a dialogue with me. He’s a very bright young man who teaches English at a technological university, and the following “conversation” is based on some of that ongoing correspondence we had. I’ve copied Amir’s sections just as they were sent to me.

I’d love to hear your reactions to this conversation and receive any extra observations you can make on this subject.
______________________________________________________________________________

Amir: Why don't the Americans follow exactly the English way of using grammar, words, pronunciation, etc? Since I think there are two versions of one language. At the word level, for example, tap is British English and faucet is American. At grammar level, for example, the British past participle of get is got, but in American English gotten. At pronunciation level, water in British English is pronounced very different from the American one. You see that I didn't say the opposite, that is, why don't the British follow exactly the American … since I think English is originally English not American and so it must be better. What do you think?

Me: I think that's a marvelous question, Amir. The easiest way for me to answer it is to turn the question around and ask you the same about Arabic. The homeland of Arabic is the Arabian peninsula, but the language spread throughout the Middle East and North Africa. Do you speak the same Arabic in your country that’s spoken, say, in Morocco?

Amir: Of course not.

Me: The reason for that is that languages keep evolving. In any region, the causes can include geography, the natural environment, other languages that have an influence, the arrival of immigrants, and the history of the region.

Amir: Since your answer is wonderful, it deserves a good reply, and I will do my best. Firstly, I expected you turning the question around.

Secondly, let me explain what I was talking about is the “standard English” accepted in Britain and America.

Thirdly, I'm going to talk about the Classic Arabic or standard Arabic compared with standard English.

Fourthly, I agree with you that we speakers of Arabic do not speak the same in term of pronunciation since everyone has their regional accent, but we use exactly the same words. For example, the word window has many names according to the country one lives in, and that is so-called “dialects”. But when it comes to speaking Classic Arabic, one should use the very word which is understood from the north to the south and from the east to the west.

Fifthly, at the level of grammar, it is completely the same.

Sixthly, there are dictionaries designed for British English and others for the American one. This drives me to presume that they are different. If not, why to have different dictionaries as long as the same? Likewise, in Arabic we have different dictionaries but they differ in the way words are presented but not in the content, that is, a dictionary may start with a word that another may not start with. Yet the meaning and the understanding of word is still the same.

Seventhly, and the most strong factor, is that Arabic is a sacred language. It is used in religious texts, especially the Qur’an and the prophetic traditions.

Me: Your original question had to do with why American English doesn't follow British English exactly. I answered that by explaining that American English has been influenced by American Indian vocabulary and by vocabulary from every immigrant group that joined us to create the country we now have. Immigrant languages also had some influence on certain grammatical patterns, although not a strong influence.

Pronunciation in American English was first influenced by various pronunciations in the UK. Then American pronunciation was influenced by the way immigrants pronounced certain words.

I hope you get a general picture now of why American English hasn't strictly followed British English.

As for “standard” English, this is a very tricky area. We don't have a sacred language like Classical Arabic, so we have nothing to turn to as a reference. Nor do we have a national academy like in France and Spain that makes decrees on what is “correct” and what is “incorrect.” So what do we have?

Well, first, “standard” American pronunciation is based on how television and radio reporters, especially in the 1950s, pronounced English. One of the greatest influences on this aspect of American English was a TV news reporter named Walter Cronkite. His Midwestern pronunciation was so clear and easy to understand that it became the norm for broadcasters all around the country, and that led to its being adopted more or less by all educated speakers who made a conscious choice to speak with a “standard” pronunciation. In the UK, it was how broadcasters on the BBC sounded that became the accepted “standard” British pronunciation except for another version called RP, “received pronunciation.”

As for vocabulary, that becomes a much more difficult area to discuss. My guess is that the majority of English words are what we can consider “standard” vocabulary, and the test for that is that they're understood by most educated American English speakers. So it doesn't matter really if you call it a faucet, a tap, a spigot, or a spicket ― most of us will still understand what you're talking about.

Of course we have words in one region that may not be understood by people in other regions. Those words are classified as “nonstandard.” They may have a standard counterpart, but they're still considered nonstandard.

Here's one example: If I say frying pan to native English speakers, they’ll understand what I'm talking about. But then there are regionalisms such as fry pan, skillet, spider.

Here's something interesting about faucet and tap. I'm mentioning these again because I want to show you how words can become integrated so well into the standard language even though they may originally have been nonstandard. I'm from New York, and I grew up calling that device on the kitchen sink a faucet. People in some other regions call it a tap. But if I’m thirsty and I don't want bottled water, I'll say I'd like a glass of tap water even though for me it comes out of a faucet. So I get tap water from the faucet!

The main point is that one variety of English isn't necessarily better or worse than any other variety. Yes, there’s something we gingerly call “standard American” or “standard British English,” but nobody’s 100% sure what that means except to say it's the common language used by most educated people in the country.

Okay, Amir, maybe I've given you more information than you wanted to know.

Amir: No, I understand, and I think I know much better why you have many differences and why you don’t copy British English. Thank you, Richard.
______________________________________________________________________________

So what’s your take on this topic? Anything to add? If something comes to mind, let me know.

Why I Like Cloze Exercises

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 23:24:00 +0000

Over the many years I taught ESOL, one type of exercise that I decided should become a staple kind of classroom language learning activity was the cloze procedure or cloze activity. Nobody seems to really know where the name cloze comes from, but in spite of that, it can play a very important role in any language classroom. Actually, there are two main types of cloze, the pure cloze and the modified cloze*.

The Pure Cloze: The most important use of pure cloze exercises is to test your students’ overall mastery of the language (whole language). As you’ll see, a blank may replace any kind of word; generally, it’s the competence and comprehension that your students have which will allow them to figure out what possible item can go in each blank. You’ll get more bang for your buck by using a pure cloze activity with high-intermediate and advanced students, but you might want to try simplified ones with lower level students as well.

To create one, take any passage that’s as close to 350 words in length as you can get. Leave the first and last sentences intact. Beginning with the second sentence, take out every fifth to ninth word and replace it with a blank. Make all your blanks equal in length. Only a single word is acceptable for each blank, and keep in mind that a contraction is a single word, too. If the blank falls where there’s a date, number, proper noun, or otherwise unreconstructible word, then the next word should be replaced by the blank instead. The words that are omitted should be words that your students already know.

By the way, it’s a more difficult exercise if every fifth word is omitted than if every ninth word is omitted. You’ll probably prefer to eliminate every seventh or ninth word, at least at the beginning.

As far as correcting cloze exercises that students have completed, there are two lines of thought on the subject. Some people insist that only the exact word that was eliminated should be accepted as the correct answer. Others, however, argue that any word that completes the idea appropriately should be accepted.

Just in case you’d like to know, here’s the thinking on the two methods of correction. Accepting any appropriate word while correcting a cloze seems only fair way to go with, at least on the surface. Why shouldn’t teachers accept any answer that works? Why should students be penalized for not being able to read the mind of the person who wrote the text? Well, here’s why:

1. Accepting any appropriate word makes it much harder to correct because the teacher needs to keep in mind the entire context while trying to focus on each answer. It’s also harder to correct when there are very large groups doing the activity.

2. Correcting in this way takes a lot more time.

3. Using this method is only slightly more statistically reliable, so you be the judge.

The Modified Cloze: This form of the cloze can be used with students at any level and, instead of dealing with whole language competence, a modified cloze zeroes in on one particular discrete point of language that you’ve chosen to concentrate on.

To create one, write your own sentences or passages and make sure they contain the discrete point you’ve chosen to work on. The length of the sentences or the whole passage depends on your knowledge of what your students can handle. If you’re dealing with prepositions or articles or the like, eliminate whatever words are being targeted and keep the blanks equal in length throughout. If you’re dealing with verbs, draw in each blank and write the verb to be used in parentheses before or after the blank. The students will quickly learn that they’re to use the verbs in parentheses to fill in the blanks.

And as for correcting this kind of cloze, you should apply the rule of thumb that any appropriate words or verb forms that work to complete the sentences are acceptable.

Grammar textbook series have incorporated cloze activities more and more over the years because they’ve proven to be so effective, but personalizing them yourself can prove much more meaningful to your students if you choose topics or even students in your classes that they can all relate to. And nothing makes a language activity more impressive or effective than one that’s meaningful to your students!

Another wonderful thing about cloze activities is that they offer some very good reading comprehension practice. Students really need to understand what they’re reading in order to fill in those blanks appropriately. So go ahead. Make up your own cloze procedures, and see what happens.

*Richard Firsten with Patricia Killian. The ELT Grammar Book: A Teacher-Friendly Reference Guide. Alta Book Center Publishers. 2002

Prescriptivist or Descriptivist?

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 01:13:00 +0000

All during the years I taught ESOL, I had an ongoing battle in my mind over the philosophies that dealt with whether I should be a prescriptivist or a descriptivist as far as the rules of English grammar go. A prescriptivist basically tells you how you should say something; in other words, what’s right and what’s wrong. A descriptivist simply tells you what people say and how they say it without making any value judgments. So how conservative should I be (aka prescriptive), or how liberal (aka descriptive)? When do I know it’s okay just to say, “Hey, if it works, use it,” or when do I know if it’s safe to put my foot down and say, “No, that’s just wrong”?

One reason I kept having this battle was caused by a feeling that I was being undermined from time to time by others in the field. For example, I’d been taught to say there is if the following noun is singular and there are if it’s plural, and that’s the way I always taught existential there, which was backed up by what I always found in ESOL textbooks. Then, as the years went by, I’d hear somebody say there’s with a plural noun. I’d scoff and think to myself, “Hah! That person’s grammar is terrible!” But then I’d hear more and more people say there’s and even here’s and Where’s ...? along with a plural noun. And then I noticed in a book by a well-known grammarian* that using the singular form followed by a plural noun is “acceptable” in conversational English. What?? You’ve got to be kidding! So it’s okay for me to say Where’s the files? and Here’s the files and There’s the files? Puh-leez! So does that mean I should have thrown the rule about existential there out the window years ago? Was I actually misleading my students all those years the way I taught this point of grammar?

And what about fewer vs. less? All the ESOL grammar texts I'd ever used with my students clearly stated that we should use fewer as the comparative form with countable nouns and less with uncountable nouns. So that’s what I taught ― but that’s not necessarily what I heard or even found in print. Again I’d have that negative gut reaction, thinking it scandalous that so-called educated people couldn’t even use those two words properly even in TV commercials. “Less calories?” Ugh!

So I went running to a book by another well-known grammarian,** and lo and behold, what do I read on this subject? “Less is the comparative of little (used especially before uncountable nouns). Fewer is the comparative of few (used before plural nouns). Compare: I earn less money than a postman. / I’ve got fewer problems than I used to have.” So far, so good, right? But then … “Less is quite common before plural nouns, as well as uncountables, especially in an informal style. Some people consider this incorrect. I’ve got less problems than I used to have.” What was that? “SOME people consider this incorrect”? You mean lots of people consider it correct? You mean all those ESOL grammar books were misleading? Aaaarrrghh!

Well, now you get it. Now you see the quandary I was in. Or I guess I should say I’m still in. The battle hasn’t changed inside me. I mean, where do we draw the line? There isn’t an ESOL teacher alive who will claim it’s acceptable to say he is, she is, they is, so why is it acceptable to say There is three people waiting to see you? Hmm … Or is it? Could it be that it’s acceptable only when the contraction is used? Does There’s three people waiting to see you sound better? I wonder. Maybe that does sound more acceptable. I wonder. I also wonder about how nuts that seems to me!

So what should we do as ESOL teachers? Do we teach with a prescriptive approach: “Say it this way. Don’t say it that way.” Or do we just teach our students any and all deviations from what the traditional grammar textbooks have said for decades just because a certain number of native speakers use this deviation or that?

If you’d like an extreme example of the descriptive approach, I can give you one. Many moons ago when I was in grad school taking a course in modern English grammar from a well respected teacher who was born and raised in the midwestern US, I remember vividly her discussion on the use of certain modal auxiliaries. She pointed out that in some areas of the Midwest it’s not uncommon to hear people say things like I might could do it and She shouldn’t have ought to done that (although she pronounced it as She shouldn’t’ve oughta done that. Once again, maybe those contracted pronunciations sound more acceptable than when the words aren’t contracted!)

Before you shriek in horror, let me just tell you that this teacher considered such sentences perfectly acceptable since that’s how people spoke in those areas of the Midwest that she hailed from. She said such sentences didn’t bother her at all. Can you imagine? And she was teaching modern English grammar! So does that mean she was telling us we could teach such sentences as variations on how to use modal auxiliaries? Your guess is as good as mine. I didn’t ask her ― probably because I was in such a state of shock.

I seem to see a trend these days that has people poo-pooing anyone who sounds like a prescriptivist. Maybe with so many other things it’s becoming politically incorrect to tell people how they should say something. I still cringe every time I hear people say me and him when they should say he and I. Isn’t this taught anymore in public school English classes? Are language arts classes a dying art? And how does all of this affect what ESOL teachers do in their classrooms?

You know what? I’m getting very worked up right now. I think I’ll have a couple of beers to calm down. That’s right, a couple of BEERS. Countable? Uncountable? Hah! Who cares anymore?

*L. G. Alexander. Longman English Grammar. Longman. 1988
**Michael Swan. Practical English Usage, 3rd edition. Oxford University Press. 2005

Have You Got a Picture File?

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 02:42:00 +0000

Over the many years that I taught ESOL, there were certain goals that I always wanted to achieve beyond the specific language objective for any given lesson. Those goals had to do with realism and cultural influences on the targeted language point. I especially had these goals in mind whenever I did EFL teacher training to groups in non-English speaking countries where both local teachers and students don’t have the wonderful opportunity to be immersed in a country with native English speakers and their culture on a daily basis the way ESOL teachers and students do.

One thing I found could help me accomplish these extra goals to a large extent, and what I found was the single most useful teaching aid a teacher can have, is a picture file. A wonderful resource such as a picture file doesn’t cost much to make since all you need is magazines, some glue or tape, sturdy paper or backing material, and a pair of scissors. To put your file together, choose magazines that have lots of pictures, and cut out anything you find of interest. Don’t overlook simple pictures, because even the simplest may have various teaching points to focus on. Use large pictures in front of the entire class; use large or small ones for individual or small-group work. Trim the edges and glue the pictures onto sturdy backing sheets. (Construction paper or tag board is excellent for this purpose.) On the back of each mounted picture, list a variety of teaching points that the picture can be used for. Let’s take a look at a simple picture, one that you might think uninteresting at first glance, and I’ll show you what teaching points we can use it for.

____________________

Vocabulary Items: trees, grass/lawn, bushes, flowers, sign, walkway, driveway, roof, shingles, windows, siding, offers, housing market, credit report, mortgage, property taxes, equity

idioms: It’s a steal. / curb appeal / get the price down / down payment / Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched.

Grammar Points:
(Present Progressive) They’re selling their house. / People are making appointments to see the house. / The seller is asking $225,000. / The realtor isn’t getting many offers on the house. / The buyer is thinking about not renewing his contract with the realtor.
(Simple Past) The buyer signed a contract with the realtor six months ago. / Only two people made appointments to see the house last week. / The realtor said that they buyer’s price was too high.
(Simple Future) The buyer will have to lower the price. / The realtor won’t renew his contract with the buyer. / Few people will want to pay so much money for that house.

Countable and Uncountable Nouns: realtor, real estate, grass, bushes, sign, money, price, offers

Active and Passive Voice: The house was built in 1982. / They built the house in three months. / The house is being sold by a well-known realty company. / The realtor is advertising the house in local newspapers.

Prepositions / Prepostional Phrases: on the lawn, on the driveway, in front of the house, at the front door, for a down payment, at home

Non-linguistic Topics for Discussion: housing crisis, “the American dream,” foreclosures, financial responsibility, credit crisis

See how much you can do with one picture? Pictures with action scenes are great, but don’t overlook simple pictures on plain backgrounds such as the one I've chosen to show you here. They can be very productive, too. And one more point that's important about a picture file is that it can be used for any level of language teaching from elementary to advanced.

Once you have a stack of pictures ready to go, number them. Then make a master list of teaching points you’ve found in the pictures. Next to each point, list the numbers of all the pictures that fit that teaching point. In other words, your master list will tell you what topics (grammar, vocabulary, pronunciation, etc.) your files contain and what pictures can be used to demonstrate and work on these points. This way, when you teach a particular lesson, you can go to your master list and quickly pull out the pictures you need. Any time you add to your file, you can easily update your master list.

Here’s an additional tip about writing the teaching points that your pictures represent on the back of the pictures. When you hold up a picture and the teaching point appears on the back for you to see, you don’t have to crane your neck to look at what it is you’re holding up. The students see the picture and you see the teaching point.

And why should you create a picture file? A teacher-made picture file will suit you, your needs, your students, and the subjects you’re teaching. Commercial sets of pictures could never give you this personalized touch at a price that most teachers can afford. Moreover, if a picture goes out of date, is lost, or is destroyed, replacing it doesn’t require that you buy a new set; just find another magazine and there you have your replacement. If you don’t already have something like a picture file, I highly recommend you start making one right away. I guarantee that you’ll be glad you did.

How Do You . . . What?

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 14:47:00 +0000

And then there was Mustafa, my marvelous, sweet, gentle giant of a student. I nicknamed him “Mustafa Mountain.” He was a heavy-set young man in his mid-twenties who towered over me so much that I actually had to look up whenever talking to him. Mustafa had a way of not easily connecting how English works with his own thought processes, but he did a lot to show me how English can sometimes be so illogical that I think it amazing anyone can learn it well.

This is what happened the first day I met Mustafa in my low intermediate-level class at the university:

“How do you do?” I said as I stretched out my hand to shake his.
“How do I do what?” Mustafa replied.
“No, no. This is a greeting: ‘How do you do?’”
“How do I do what?”
“What’s your name?”
“Mustafa Bakhtiari. You are my new teacher, Mr. Firsten?”
“Yes, that’s right. How do you do, Mustafa?”
“Why you keep ask me how I do . . . How I do what??”
“It’s like saying ‘How are you?’ Mustafa. We say it the first time we meet somebody in a formal situation.”
“Oh, okay. I think I understand,” Mustafa said with a big smile of relief spreading across his face.
“So, how do you do?” I confidently reiterated.
“Very well, thank you,” came the unwanted response.
“No, you’re not supposed to say that in the answer, Mustafa.”
“No? Oh, so what I say?”
“How do you do?”
“Huh?” Mustafa said with the saddest look of confusion I’d ever seen on a student’s face. I closed my eyes momentarily, realizing what a dumb thing I had just done, inadvertently setting the scene for total confusion ― and I knew it.
“You are asking me that question again,” Mustafa said slowly with some consternation in his voice.
“Listen, Mustafa. When you meet somebody for the first time and the situation is formal, you say, ‘How do you do?’ Then the other person says, ‘How do you do?’ too.”
“You ask question and he ask same question. Nobody answer question.”
“Yes, that’s right. Now you’ve got it!”
“I got what?”
“Never mind. Let’s try it again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“How do you do?”
“How do you do, too?”
“No! You don’t say, ‘How do you do, too?’ You just repeat, ‘How do you do?’!”
“Please. I am trying to learn English. Not easy!”
“I know that, Mustafa. I say, ‘How do you do?’ and you just repeat ‘How do you do?’ and nobody answers that question. You just shake hands and smile at each other, okay? And then you can continue the conversation by asking each other’s names, career interests ― whatever. Do you understand now?”
“I think yes, but not sure,” poor Mustafa replied, looking quite insecure at the moment.
“Okay, let’s try it one more time,” I said, feeling this was it. It was either now or never. Taking a deep breath, I said, “How do you do?”
“How do you do?” was Mustafa’s response. I was ecstatic! We shook hands on cue and everything seemed right with the world.
“My name is Richard Firsten.”
“I am Mustafa Bakhtiari.”
“What do you do, Mr. Bakhtiari?”
“What do you do, Mr. Firsten?”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mustafa. You’re supposed to answer my question to be polite.”
“You say I must repeat question. I repeat question! ‘How do you do? How do you do? What do you do? What do you do?’”
“But that’s only for ‘How do you do?’ Mustafa, not ‘What do you do?’ You can answer that question!” I could feel my blood pressure rising. The word stroke popped into my mind. “Let’s try that last part again, Mustafa. All right?”
‘Sure,” he said looking down at the floor and grumbling a little. Another deep breath. “My name is Richard Firsten.”
“I am Mustafa Bakhtiari.”
“Nice to meet you,” I adlibbed.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Mustafa replied, feeling comfortable with a sentence he’d learned in his elementary ESOL classes.
“What do you do, Mr. Bakhtiari?” I went on.
“What do I do when?”
I just stared at him. I felt a little numb and kept staring. Mustafa had succeeded in sucking all the energy right out of me. I didn’t have the strength to answer his question. I knew very well where it would lead us. But I was his teacher. I had an obligation to answer his question, didn’t I?
“No, no, Mustafa. That’s not what it means.”
“That’s not what it mean? Why you ask me that if it not mean that?” I could see the frustration building up in him. It reminded me of magma rising up a lava tube in a volcano, getting ready to blow its cork and erupt.
“What do you do? means ‘What’s your job or profession?’ So that’s what you should answer.”
“I don’t have job. I am student! You know I am student. All you do is ask questions they don’t mean what you ask. And you ask things you know I am not. I go home now. Maybe I see you tomorrow ― maybe!”

And with that, Mustafa turned around on his heels and walked despondently out of my classroom. I felt awful, as if somehow I’d let him down, even though I knew I hadn’t. But he did come back the next day, and he stayed in my class a whole semester, and learned a lot of English.

The last I heard, Mustafa lives in Los Angeles. We kept in touch for some years, but that didn’t last, unfortunately. He once told me that now, when somebody asks him, “What do you do?” he says, “I’m a CPA.” and always smiles as he thinks back to that crazy day in Mr. Firsten’s ESOL class in Miami.

Bulltish!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 01:42:00 +0000

I’m going to digress a bit from my usual range of topics this week and deal a little with a topic of language that some would rather avoid dealing with. This week’s entry is really about teaching language and not about the language itself, and I hope you'll join the discussion.
______________________________________________________________________

So there I was, in the midst of a really interesting university-level conversation class about Hollywood movies. One of my students had just mentioned that she thought European film makers did a much better job than their American counterparts, and suddenly Homayoon, a student from Iran, shouted out “Bulltish!” Everybody turned to him, trying to figure out what he had blurted out. At first I didn’t get it, but it suddenly hit me what he was trying to say, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Then I stood up, went to the board, and wrote the word bullshit.

“The word’s not bulltish, Homayoon; it’s bullshit.” Of course, as fate would have it, at that very moment the director of the intensive English program I was working in just happened to walk by my classroom ― with the door wide open. She stopped dead in her tracks at the door, and I could see by the look on her face that she was none too thrilled with what I had just said and what she saw on the board. She said nothing and just continued on her way, but I knew very well I’d be called into her office for a meeting to discuss this incident later that day or the next. Such timing!

I just sighed and went on with that teachable moment. I explained to my students what the word meant and why it was so inappropriate for Homayoon to use it in class. (Of course the director of the program didn’t hang around to hear that part ― oh, no.) Finally, I gave the class alternatives that would be appropriate, like That’s nonsense. or That’s silly. or That’s ridiculous. I even went further, though, explaining a little about the art of tactfulness and how Homayoon could make his feelings known in a gentler, more polite way by saying things like I don’t agree. or I don’t think that’s so. or Why do you say that?

But that incident got me thinking. After classes, when most of the teachers gathered in our lounge as they usually did to de-stress before going home, I related the incident that had happened in my class and started a discussion about whether or not we had a responsibility at some point to teach intermediate or advanced students of at least college age what we commonly refer to as “four-letter words.” I wasn’t at all surprised at the heated discussion that developed. This was 1976, so it goes without saying that attitudes were quite different then from attitudes now.

That discussion continued in our teachers’ lounge for the rest of the week. Every day some new angle was brought up. One of my colleagues even mentioned how he was going to develop a whole syllabus on this subject, which he’d divide into categories like “four-letter words about parts of men’s bodies,” “four-letter words about parts of women’s bodies,” “vulgar and semi-vulgar synonyms for acceptable words,” “basic cursing,” and all the grammatical ways to use “the f word.” Some of us were in shock at his suggestions; some of us giggled out of embarrassment; some of us cheered him on. Well, the long and short of it is that he never did develop that formal syllabus, and I never created lessons on the subject matter. But I’ve always wondered if I should have.

By the way, isn’t if funny how it’s considered acceptable to say something like “the f word,” when everyone knows perfectly well what that means, but it’s not so okay to say or write the whole word? I find it curious how we seem to be accepting of such initials or abbreviations for some four-letter words. Why should an abbreviation sound more okay than the whole word? Or why should writing sh-t or saying “Shoot!” be more acceptable than writing the scatological word they stand for? We really can be kind of weird in English, can’t we!

Getting back to treating four-letter words and cursing in a formal way, one brave ESOL teacher/author took the bull by the horns ― not the bulltish by the horns ― and wrote a groundbreaking student resource book on this topic. Her name is Elizabeth Claire and her book was Dangerous English 2000*, followed a few years later by David Burke’s Slangman Guide to Dirty English**.

English may be just about the most colorful language in the world when it comes to four-letter words and cursing. And at times it feels good to curse ― at least it feels good to me. Now don’t get me wrong. I was raised in a very prim-and-proper home where such language was never used. In fact, I still remember when I came home one day and called my big brother a pimp. I didn’t know what it meant (I must have heard it on the street) but I used it to show him I was a big boy and could use grown-up words. Well, when I think about it, I can still taste the bar of soap that my mother immediately shoved into my mouth after dragging me over to the bathroom sink. Yep, she literally washed my mouth out with soap! Needless to say, I learned my lesson ― sort of. And I didn’t find out what pimp meant until years later.

But I do think there’s a time and place for cursing, and I think such language has therapeutic benefits. Perhaps it’s something you’d only want to use in private or with people you’re very close to, but whoever you are or aren’t with at that moment, cursing can really do wonders for you. My mother ― yes, the woman who washed my mouth out with soap ― learned to curse quite well after she got her driver’s license and frequently took to the road. I was grown up by then, but I used to laugh out loud sitting in the passenger’s seat next to her every time I’d hear a trail of those colorful words fly out of her mouth as she sat behind the wheel, steaming at what one reckless driver or another had just done.

So how do you feel about that marvelously colorful area of English that includes four-letter words and cursing? Do you think they play a vital role in the language, or do you think they should disappear? I’d like to know what you feel about all of this, and more importantly, I’d like to know what you think about whether this part of the language should be taught to students of an appropriate age. I’d also like to know if you’ve had a situation in class similar to the one I’ve mentioned. If you’d like to discuss how teaching should or should not get involved in this area, please join in.

(P.S. ― I did get called into the director’s office the next day, and she did read me the riot act about teaching such things. Boy, was she p---ed off at me!)

*Elizabeth Claire. Dangerous English 2000: An Indispensable Guide for Language Learners and Others, 3rd edition. Delta Publishing Co. 1998

**David Burke. Slangman Guide to Dirty English: A Guide to American Obscenities and Insults. Slangman Publishing. 2003

My English is Better than Your English! Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 23:53:00 +0000

In my last entry, I discussed standard language compared to nonstandard language, focusing mainly on variations in pronunciation and vocabulary, and besides mentioning a few differences in the past and current language of Michigan compared to standard American English, I reported what my British friend Mick O’Hare had to say on the subject.

Now I’d like to mention some more differences between standard and nonstandard language, and also get a little into what we term substandard language.

I come from New York City. To this day people don’t stand in line when waiting to get into someplace; they stand on line. That’s an example of nonstandard American English. But in one part of the city, it’s common to hear people say things like You want I should do that now? instead of Do you want me to do that now? And even though it’s fast dying out, there was a time when it was common in a certain part of the city to hear people switch the pronunciation of "oy" with "er," so you’d hear things like I need some erl for my car and That British aristocrat is called the Oyl of Devon. So should a teacher in New York City teach stand on line along with stand in line, and should that teacher tell students it’s okay to say You want I should do that now? or She’s a lousy cook. The goil doesn’t even know how to berl water!?

My answer to the first question is yes, stand on line can be taught alongside stand in line since ESOL students in New York will undoubtedly hear native speakers say on line, but the teacher should emphasize which one is the standard phrase. My answer to the other question is no, teachers should not teach that it’s okay to say You want I should do that now? or The goil doesn’t even know how to berl water. That’s because such grammar and such pronunciations are not standard or even nonstandard English; they’re simply substandard English, and substandard English is unacceptable as a teachable variation. Such grammar and pronunciation basically fall into the same category as ain’t and double negatives. They exist, but the consensus of opinion is that they’re substandard forms. Sometimes it may take checking into to decide if something is a regional variation (nonstandard) or substandard.

At any rate, here are the questions I put to my Australian colleague, Penny Cameron, to get her take on things, and Penny’s answers:

Penny, does Aussie English have regional variations that are so outstanding that you don't have a problem recognizing which part of the country somebody comes from?

There are regional lexical items, and some regional variation in, for instance, long or short /a/ in words like Newcastle. Please visit the Australian Word Map for a work in progress on this very topic.

Is there a standard Aussie English that kids are taught in school that differs from their everyday speech?

We try to teach a standard English, but the kids undermine us the way they always did.

Is there any prejudice against certain regional variations rather than others? Do some Aussies poke fun at the way other Aussies speak?

Not really. We make cruel jokes about other states, suggesting that Tasmanians are inbred and Sydneysiders brash and property obsessed, and we sometimes say that Queenslanders drawl.

Are there words or pronunciations in one regional variation that Aussies in other parts of the country wouldn't understand?

Very few, I believe. See SCOSE (the Standing Committee on Spoken English) and the Word Map.

We have a steadying influence in the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) based on the BBC. Apart from giving us informed non-partisan discussion (the politicians hate it), the ABC hosts SCOSE, the Standing Committee on Spoken English.

This is from their website: “The ABC’s Standing Committee on Spoken English (SCOSE) this year celebrates its fiftieth year. It evolved from earlier groups which had existed since 1944.

“However, the brief for previous incarnations of SCOSE was to maintain standard English pronunciations. In 1952 it was recognised that the ABC should make some departure from BBC practice and recognise Australian English.

“The role of SCOSE is to provide a reference source for broadcasters and journalists through the Language Research Unit, which is maintained by News and Current Affairs.

“Broadcasters and journalists can check all aspects of spoken and written English ― pronunciation, grammar, spelling, usage and style. The Committee also monitors the use of language in a broad sense across all ABC platforms to ensure it is conforming to community standards and the ABC’s editorial policies.The Committee meets once a month to discuss language policy and usage, queries from staff, and any observations or complaints from the public. Members include staff representatives from program producing areas across radio, television and online.”

The SCOSE Academic Adviser Professor, Pam Peters, is Associate Professor of Linguistics at Macquarie University. Professor Peters sits on the Macquarie Dictionary Advisory Board and is the author of Cambridge University Australian English Style Guide, my constant desk companion.

However, we certainly sound different to other people. Please see the story at the beginning of the most recent Ozwords (Oct 2007) about the unfortunate Australian woman who got arrested.

I did, Penny, and I was amazed at what happened to her. Incredible! I hope all my readers will take a look at the story and see what misunderstandings can arise from one form of English to another. And thank you very much for sharing your thoughts with us, Penny, and for offering such good links to visit.

As I said last time, I’d love to hear from you folks, so please share any reactions or thoughts you have with us by leaving a comment.

My English is Better than Your English!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 18 Oct 2008 18:24:00 +0000

I returned some days ago from East Lansing, Michigan, where I gave a six-hour workshop on grammar to over 150 gracious, enthusiastic ESOL teachers from all around the state who eagerly wanted to understand more about the workings of the English language. The six hours flew by, and I feel very grateful to have had the experience of meeting and chatting with those teachers.

One of the topics that came up while some of us were chatting during breaks and after the workshop dealt with a subject I had brought up in the early part of the workshop, namely, standard English vs. nonstandard English, also known as regional variations. A number of the teachers wanted to know if one was better than the other, and which form of English (e.g., standard American, standard British, etc.) should be considered “the best.” I quickly explained that there is no such thing as one form of English being better than any other and that all forms are fine if they work all right for the people who use them. I added that we have what is gingerly referred to as standard English, which seems to be the language that’s understood and used by the majority of educated native speakers. I suggested that the teachers might want to teach standard language to our students first, but that there was nothing wrong with introducing regional variations, nonstandard English, at the appropriate level and appropriate time.

Here are some examples of regional variations as opposed to the standard forms. For example, in pronunciation, since it was the fall and the leaves were starting to turn colors, I mentioned foliage (/fo – li – әj/ as the standard, /fo – lәj/ as the regional variation). Then one of the teachers brought up auxiliary. She’d noticed that I pronounced it /ŏg – zIl – yә – ri/ while she always said /ŏg – zIl – ә – ri/. Which one was standard, she wanted to know. I told her the way I pronounce the word is standard, which surprised her. But she said she’d pronounce it that way from now on.

Then there are words. In Michigan, years ago, people called a couch (sofa) a davenport. And when you were thirsty and didn’t care for water, you’d go to the fridge and get a pop (a soda). So couch or sofa is the standard word, and davenport was the regional variation. Refrigerator and soda are the standard words, while fridge and pop are regional variations. Does that mean the former are better than the latter? Not really. The only thing that may be important for us ESOL teachers is to know which should be taught first to our students. Or perhaps the two forms should be taught at the same time. Food for thought. One other thing of importance is attitudes that native speakers have about standard language as opposed to nonstandard forms. How judgmental are people about nonstandard pronunciations and vocabulary compared to the standard language?

Of course, American ESOL teachers aren’t the only ones wrestling with these questions. While preparing this blog entry, I contacted a friend of mine, a writer and editor in London, to get his take on what is considered standard language in the UK. I did the same with a friend and colleague in Sydney, Australia to hear her views on this topic, and will discuss her answers in my next blog entry.

So here are the questions I put to my British friend, Mick O’Hare, along with his answers. Mick has written some wonderful books and is an editor at New Scientist magazine:

Mick, is there a standard British English that kids are taught in school that differs from their everyday speech? Is it different from "received pronunciation"? And if it is different, who learns that and who learns RP?

Only in the public schools such as Eton, Harrow, Rodean (posh private schools to you), I believe they still teach RP through elocution. Otherwise you are taught in the accent (generally) from the area in which you were born. I guess teachers tend to iron out dialect, but as far as I know there's no law over pronunciation. For example, my teachers would have said /fæst/ whereas my wife's would have said /fast/ purely because I'm from the North and she's from the South. And, of course, we all had teachers who came from different parts of the country, so they just taught in their own accents. I don't recall any calamities. RP is taught to the wealthy or the aristocratic, but it's dying out to a certain extent as regional accents become more acceptable and as English homogenises generally through TV, etc.

Is there still any prejudice against certain regional variations rather than others? Do some Britons poke fun at the way other Britons speak?

Yes. my wife's mum, for example, who speaks RP, thinks that only RP should be allowed on the BBC (even happily says it to me). But even so, society is far more egalitarian now and it matters far less. Nonetheless, certain prejudices apply to certain accents: good examples would be the Birmingham 'Brummie' accent, which is associated with being stupid and rather universally disliked, Glaswegian which is considered incomprehensible by everybody else, Geordie (much the same), Yorkshire (my accent), which is considered dour or down-to-earth. On the other hand, some accents such as Edinburgh, Highlands, West Lancashire, and West Country are considered 'pleasant'. And everybody who is not a cockney hates cockney because they all love themselves too much, the chirpy l'il sparrers!

Are there words or pronunciations in one regional variation that Britons in other parts of the country wouldn't understand? (I'm talking about regional variations within England, not including Scotland, Wales, or Cornwall.)

Yes, lots. Loads of dialect words. I'm not too up on other areas, but obviously, because of rhyming slang, there are simply hundreds in cockney. And I know East Anglia has a lot, but in Yorkshire we have plenty ― these are the ones I know best. My granddad could speak virtually in a different language if all the dialect words came out at once. A few that spring to mind are laik (“play” ― I still use this and also laikers for “players”), baht (“without”), allus (“always”), claht (“cloth”), and snicket (“alleyway”).

Pronunciation might still catch people out area to area.

Thanks very much for your insights, Mick. I think it will be helpful for English teachers, no matter where they are, to read your take on these points about British English, compare them with things I’ve mentioned about American English, and then think about whatever form of English may exist in their parts of the world. This may have more of an impact on how they teach English than you might think at first glance.

Any thoughts, folks? If something comes to mind, please share it with me by leaving a comment.

So What’s New? Plenty! Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 16:10:00 +0000

One of the greatest joys I get out of delving into the wonders of language, especially English, is that never-ending wonder I experience from witnessing the way words that have been around for so very long can suddenly be found with totally new meanings. This has been happening to English, as well as all other living languages, I presume, since Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons cavorted around Europe and the Middle East, and Homo Habilis ventured into Asia.

In a recent entry to my blog entitled “So What’s New? Plenty!” I dealt with words that I never would have heard years ago such as edamame, plain water, server, and weightage. I’d like to continue this, but in a different way. On a few occasions, I’ve come across a masterpiece of writing that’s on the Web which, besides being extremely funny, perfectly exemplifies the new meanings that old words can take on.

Perhaps there are those of you who have never heard of the comedy team of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, very famous comedians who made movies in the 1940s and 50s, and had their own television show in the 1950s. One of their most famous routines was called “Who’s on First?” In this classic comedy routine, Abbott tries his best to explain the game of baseball to Costello. If you know baseball, you’ll really enjoy listening to the routine.

I wish I could take credit for what I’m about to post here, but I can’t. And I wish I could find out who the author of this marvelous piece is, but once again, I can’t. If anybody out there knows who the author is, please let me know and I’ll be very happy to give him or her full credit.

At any rate, here is this hysterical take-off on the original Abbott and Costello routine “Who’s on First?” Even if you’re not familiar with those two great comedians of the past, you’ll still appreciate fully how placing them into our era can make for great comedy and can be an excellent example of how language keeps generating new uses for old words. So, if Bud Abbott and Lou Costello were alive today, their famous sketch might have turned out something like the following. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!
________________________________________________________________

Costello calls a store to look into buying a computer, and Abbott happens to be the salesman who answers the phone.

ABBOTT: Super Duper Computers. Can I help you?
COSTELLO: Thanks. I'm setting up an office in my den and I'm thinking about buying a computer.
ABBOTT: Mac?
COSTELLO: No, the name's Lou.
ABBOTT: Your computer?
COSTELLO: I don't own a computer. I want to buy one.
ABBOTT: Mac?
COSTELLO: I told you my name's Lou.
ABBOTT: What about “Windows”?
COSTELLO: Why? Will it get stuffy in here?
ABBOTT: Do you want a computer with “Windows”?
COSTELLO: I don't know. What will I see when I look at the windows?
ABBOTT: Wallpaper.
COSTELLO: Never mind the windows. I need a computer and software.
ABBOTT: Software for “Windows”?
COSTELLO: No. On the computer! I need something I can use to write proposals, track expenses and run my business. What do you have?
ABBOTT: “Office.”
COSTELLO: Yeah, for my office. Can you recommend anything?
ABBOTT: I just did.
COSTELLO: You just did what?
ABBOTT: Recommend something.
COSTELLO: You recommended something?
ABBOTT: Yes.
COSTELLO: For my office?
ABBOTT: Yes.
COSTELLO: Okay, what did you recommend for my office?
ABBOTT: “Office.”
COSTELLO: Yes, for my office!
ABBOTT: I recommend “Office” with “Windows.”
COSTELLO: I already have an office with windows! Okay, let's just say I'm sitting at my computer and I want to type a proposal. What do I need?
ABBOTT: “Word.”
COSTELLO: What word?
ABBOTT: “Word” in “Office.”
COSTELLO: The only word in office is office.
ABBOTT: The “Word” in “Office” for “Windows.”
COSTELLO: Which word in office for windows?
ABBOTT: The “Word” you get when you click the blue W.
COSTELLO: I'm going to click your blue W if you don't start with some straight answers. What about financial bookkeeping? Do you have anything I can track my money with?
ABBOTT: “Money.”
COSTELLO: That's right. What do you have?
ABBOTT: “Money.”
COSTELLO: I need money to track my money?
ABBOTT: It comes bundled with your computer.
COSTELLO: What's bundled with my computer?
ABBOTT: “Money.”
COSTELLO: Money comes with my computer?
ABBOTT: Yes. No extra charge.
COSTELLO: I get a bundle of money with my computer? How much?
ABBOTT: One copy.
COSTELLO: Isn't it illegal to copy money?
ABBOTT: Microsoft gave us a license to copy “Money.”
COSTELLO: They can give you a license to copy money?
ABBOTT: Why not? They own it!

A few days later . . .

ABBOTT: Super Duper Computers. Can I help you?
COSTELLO: How do I turn off my computer?
ABBOTT: Click on “Start.”
________________________________________________________

Yep, it’s a joy to witness how old words can take on new meanings! A joy for us ― but not for poor Costello, who passed away in 1959 and probably never even heard the word computer.

If you’ve come across old words that have taken on new meanings and they’ve surprised or delighted you, please let me know. We teachers always need to do our best to keep abreast of these changes.

I Think We’re Possessed!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 00:04:00 +0000

(a teacher, Mrs. Odets, on a field trip with her ELL students)
Mrs. Odets:
Isn’t that an amazing sight? The Statue of Liberty!
Paolo:
Excuse me, Mrs. Odets. You say “Statue of Liberty.” The statue possesses liberty?
Mrs. Odets:
Uh, no, Paolo. That doesn’t make sense, does it. Anyway … (Now what was I going to say? Oh, yes! Right!) … It’s amazing how so many people know of this great work of art.
Hiro:
Mrs. Odets, why do you say of again? I don’t hear possession. I’m confused.
Mrs. Odets:
Uh … um … Don’t be confused, Hiro. I wasn’t talking about any possession. Why do you think I was talking about possession?
Hiro:
Because you said “many people know of the work of art,” right? You used of two times! You said know of. You said work of. I heard you!
Mrs. Odets:
Can we talk about this later, back in class? Right now let’s just concentrate on this field trip, all right? Now, as I was saying … You can go almost anywhere and people know the Statue of Liberty. You see the torch she’s holding? People used to be able to walk up a flight of stairs inside the statue’s torch, but not anymore.
Magda:
Excuse me, Mrs. Odets.
Mrs. Odets:
Yes, Magda. What is it?
Magda:
I am confused, too. You said “flight of stairs.” Why of? And you taught we cannot use apostrophe s with things that don’t live, like a statue. But you just said “the statue’s torch.” Is that good English? Oh, and what is a torch?

(later at a restaurant)

Mrs. Odets:
Doesn’t everything on this menu look wonderful? I can’t decide what to order.
Hiro:
I love fish. They say the catch of the day is grouper. Is that a good fish?
Paolo:
Why “the catch of the day,” Mrs. Odets? You tell us to use apostrophe s for time words like day, tomorrow, this week. I don’t understand. Why don’t they say the day’s catch or today’s catch?
Mrs. Odets:
Uh … well … er …
Magda:
Oh! Look at what it says in that newspaper! “The King of Spain is coming to visit the President.” That's my king! Uh, Mrs. Odets? Can’t I say Spain’s king?
Mrs. Odets:
Yes, Magda, you can. And now you want to know why we can say that two ways, right?
Magda:
Yes, please.
Mrs. Odets:
Let’s order lunch first. I’ll tell you all about that tomorrow in class. Okay?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poor Mrs. Odets! She walked right into that landmine field that we call “the possessives.” It’s astounding how complicated a supposedly simple topic can end up being. If only we could teach our students the rules for apostrophe s and of and then grab our hats and coats and make a dash for the exit. But it doesn’t work like that, does it. Nope, not at all.

I think part of the difficulty starts when we in ELT (English Language Teaching) call these two forms “possessives.” It creates an illusion that their sole purpose is to show what belongs to whom or who belongs to what:

That’s Jake’s bike.
My mother’s pet iguana is depressed.
A dog’s hearing is very powerful.
________________________________________

She studies the wings of moths.
Have you ever looked at the shape of an amoeba?
The tentacles of a jellyfish can be poisonous.

Now, if you were going to fashion a couple of rules about how to use apostrophe s and of based on the sentences above, what would they be? Well, this is what I was taught umpteen years ago: “Use apostrophe s for higher order living things and of for lower order living things.” That’s kind of neat and easy. So people and dogs and other mammals like cats and sheep and moose are higher order living things, and insects, one-celled creatures, and mollusks are lower order living things. Hmm … One question: Where do we draw the line between higher order and lower order living things? Is there a list we can refer to? Of course not. So???

And what about inanimate things? Well, the rule went on to say we should use of for inanimate things: the turrets of the castle / the cockpit of a plane / the engine problems of my car. That seems doable. But I could swear I’ve heard people say things like the castle’s turrets / a plane’s cockpit / my car’s engine problems. Uh … Don’t those phrases sound okay to you? They sound okay to me ― I guess. (Oops. I think we just found another landmine.)

So should we just throw out the rules and say whatever we feel comfortable with? But how do you teach that to your students? “All right, my intrepid ELL’s. Use apostrophe s or use of to show possession for whatever you’re talking about. Just use whichever one makes you feel comfy. See how easy learning English can be?”

But there’s another area that we should check out. In that conversation poor Mrs. Odets had with her students, something else was going on with that little rascally preposition of: the Statue of Liberty / that work of art / a flight of stairs. Now you’re not going to tell me that we’re still talking about possession, are you? Uh-uh, I won’t buy that ― and I know the students won’t either. No, there’s something else being thrown into the mix now. But what?

Oh! And before I forget, did you notice some other uses for of? What about when Paolo noticed the menu had “the catch of the day” on it instead of the day’s catch? And what about when Magda realized she could just as easily say Spain’s king as “the king of Spain”? And if that’s not enough, what about when Mrs. Odets said, “It’s amazing how many people know of this great statue”? (Kaboom! Watch out for those landmines!) Well, what’s going on now? (Are you feeling a little overwhelmed?) Obviously, teaching apostrophe s and of can be very daunting, and I’d appreciate some help here.

How about sending in your explanations for apostrophe s and of as you’ve seen them used in Mrs. Odets’ (Odets’s?) conversations with her very astute group of students.

Hmm … Let’s not even get into that issue over how to write the possessive for the teacher’s last name! Or should we? I’ll leave that up to you!

Is Being Politically Correct Correct?

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 02:17:00 +0000

Understand me. I don’t like ruffling people’s feathers. I don’t like being confrontational. I also don’t like being silly. As much as language reflects the most profound thoughts and greatest of achievements in society, it can also reflect the hypersensitivity and silliness of that society. So it is at times with what people refer to as “political correctness.” But when does the language go too far with being “pc,” politically correct?

Let’s start off with the term American. Over the years, I’ve had many students from Latin America object in class to my calling myself an American. They would immediately pipe up and say, “We are Americans, too!” I could always anticipate that response, and then I’d give out a big sigh and proceed to explain why we call ourselves Americans in the US. It’s not to exclude all the other peoples of the Americas; it’s because the official name of the country has been the United States of America since the time of independence from Great Britain. Back then the US was the only country that contained a group of united states; ergo the official name. Now people from the United States of Mexico are called Mexicans, people from the United States of Brazil are called Brazilians, and people from the United States of Colombia are called Colombians. So if people in the United States of America aren’t called Americans, what should they be called? Besides, that’s what people in Europe, Australia, and other parts of the world call us. Heck! Even the Canadians call us Americans. I rest my case.

What about the term Native American? I think this is another case of political correctness gone too far. I, too, am a native American having been born and raised in the US. If the “pc” people insist on using it, why is it that there are indigenous people in the US who still use the word Indian to describe themselves? They don’t seem to have a problem with that term. I love when “pc-ers” tell others what they should or shouldn’t be called. Talk about presumptuous! I like the term indigenous people or the Canadian term First Nations people. Both terms are neutral and appear quite accurate, don’t you think? But ultimately it’s up to the indigenous people to decide what they should be called.

Remember when you started seeing humankind replacing mankind? That was considered “pc” because that new use wouldn’t exclude women. Well, if those who try their best to be “pc” have changed mankind to humankind, what are they going to do with a word like anthropology? After all, anthropos means “man” in Greek, and anthropology means “the study of man.” So should they insist we rename that science anthropinology, which means “the study of humans”? Food for thought, if you ask me.

Now what about the terms used for black Americans? The following terms, which were considered acceptable in their day, were Negro, black, Afro-American, and now African-American, although black is still used. Why was there a need for those changes? None of this would bother me if it weren’t for the fact that I’m still called white, not European-American. Why was it necessary for the “pc-ers” to make the leap from black to African-American? If there’s nothing wrong with being called white, why do they consider it wrong to be called black? I remember the famous slogan “Black is beautiful.” And it is. So why did that change? It mystifies me, but it clearly shows the continuing racial disquiet in this English-speaking society.

We’ve been deluged with “pc” terms for people with physical and mental disabilities. Here are a few you can find on a Web page of the Life Span Institute that’s entitled Guidelines for Reporting and Writing about People with Disabilities. I’ve added some thoughts of mine in italics:

“Reflecting input from more than 100 disability organizations, the preferred terms for referring to disabilities are listed and defined below.

“Autism is a mental disorder originating in infancy that is characterized by absorption in self-centered subjective mental activity, especially when accompanied by marked withdrawal from reality, inability to interact socially, repetitive behavior, and language dysfunction. Do not say autistic. Say person with autism.” Huh? Isn’t autistic simply the adjective for autism? Is there anything pejorative in saying He’s autistic?

“Brain injury describes a condition where there is long-term or temporary disruption in brain function resulting from injury to the brain. Difficulties with cognitive, physical, emotional, and/or social functioning may occur. Do not say brain damaged. Say person with a brain injury, woman who has sustained brain injury, or boy with an acquired brain injury.” Does anyone find it offensive to say brain damaged? In this case, doesn’t that mean the same thing as injured? I don’t see the difference.

“Small/short stature describes people under 4'10" tall. Do not refer to these individuals as dwarfs or midgets, which implies a less than full adult status in society. Dwarfism is an accepted medical term, but it should not be used as general terminology. Say persons of small (or short) stature. Some groups prefer the term "little people.” Okay, I’m a person of short stature, being only 5’6” tall. For a man, that’s short. And ironically, I find the term “little people” demeaning, since I can’t help but compare it to little boy or little girl, which deals with age and level of maturity rather than height. So can’t that imply “a less than full adult status in society”? I’m perplexed!

In addition, I saw a documentary in January 2008 on the Discovery Health Channel called Dwarf: Standing Tall. Neither the producers nor the little people featured in the documentary had any problem using the term dwarf. They also used people of short stature and little people, but the term dwarf was used more often than the other two. So what does that say about instructions given at the Life Span Institute’s Web page?

My point is that English, because of the times we live in and the people who want to do the right thing, has become a testing ground for changes in attitude that good people want to bring about in society, but I think this quest may go too far at times. I remember when it became a standard joke to add challenged to a variety of adverbs in order to sound politically correct:

He’s not short, he’s “vertically challenged.”
She’s “cosmetically challenged.” She never learned how to put on makeup.
I see your little boy needs glasses. How long has he been “visually challenged”?
I can’t stand my wife’s cooking. She’s “culinarily challenged”!
Half my students are “auditorily challenged.” They never listen to me.

So in teaching and speaking English, should we just toss out all the standard adjectives we’ve used for centuries perhaps to describe people and things? How do we determine what ELL’s should learn? I’d like to hear your opinions on this subject, so please join in the conversation.

So What’s New? Plenty!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 21:02:00 +0000

Let’s eavesdrop on a conversation between two friends in a restaurant. As you read through their conversation, make note of any and all vocabulary that you don’t think you would have heard or used ten or fifteen years ago the way they’re being used in this chat. Then we’ll compare notes.

Ann: Hmm … Everything looks so interesting on the menu.
Kim: I think we should start off with edamame. It’s delicious and so nutritious.
Ann: Yes, they certainly are nutritious.
Kim: What are?
Ann: The edamame. I was agreeing with you that they’re nutritious.
Kim: You mean, it is nutritious, not they are nutritious.
Ann: Huh? No, I think you’re supposed to say they are nutritious.
Kim: Whatever. Edamame is certainly one of today’s iconic foods, don’t you think?
Ann: Absolutely!
Kim: Oh, there's the server. Excuse me. Could you bring us some plain water, please?
Server: Certainly. I’ll be right back.
Ann: So how is Julie enjoying her summer vacation?
Kim: Oh, she’s having a wonderful time staying with her grand uncle Tim.
Ann: Nice of him to look after her all summer.
Kim: And you know what? She’s joined the girl scouts.
Ann: That’s terrific. That’ll be a good experience for her.
Kim: Absolutely. And she’s getting involved in a girls’ softball team.
Ann: Oh? That must be hard for her since she’s so new at the sport.
Kim: They’re giving her some weightage in each match because of that.
Ann: That’s considerate of them.
Kim: I’m glad we got here early enough to enjoy a leisurely lunch.
Ann: So am I. This way we won’t have to rush to catch that reading of Under Milkwood.
Kim: I’m so glad the theatrette is just a block away. Okay, let’s order.

One way that I know I’m getting older is that I notice more and more how many words or expressions I hear quite often that I probably wouldn’t have heard and definitely wouldn’t have used the way they’re used today when I was younger. In one way, it’s nice to witness how my language keeps evolving, to see how it can generate new vocabulary so handily. In another way, it can be somewhat disconcerting or even disorienting to hear familiar words used unfamiliarly in everyday conversation. After all, it is my language, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I feel comfortable with what’s being said?

Keeping up with new words and expressions can be a daunting task for ESOL teachers, but I suppose it can be a fun activity, too. Here are the items that I know I wouldn’t have heard or used in this way just ten or fifteen years ago: edamame, whatever, server, plain water, grand uncle, girl guides, absolutely, weightage, and theatrette.

Interesting, eh? “Eda-what?” Edamame! It’s the Japanese word for soy beans. They’re served in the pod in a bowl along with drinks.

Did you use the adjective iconic years ago the way Kim used it in the conversation? I didn’t. I understood what it meant the first time I heard it, and that’s one of the wonderful things about language. It can generate words we’ve never heard before or used in ways we’ve never heard, and yet we can understand them. Amazing! But what’s even more amazing is how the noun icon has been turned around from the days when I used it many years ago. Here are the definitions given by the Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English Online. Note especially the order that the definitions are given:

icon [countable]
1. a small sign or picture on a computer screen that is used to start a particular operation:
To open a new file, click on the icon.
2. someone famous who is admired by many people and is thought to represent an important idea:
a 60s cultural icon
3. also ikon: a picture or figure of a holy person that is used in worship in the Greek or Russian Orthodox Church
— iconic adjective

Isn’t that fascinating? For me, no. 3 would have been the first meaning, but now it’s been relegated to the last meaning on the list of definitions. Wow! And the adjective would only have referred to a painting or mosaic found in a religious setting like a church. How word usage has changed!

And what about that rejoinder Whatever? Was that usage part of your vocabulary ten or fifteen years ago? It wasn’t part of mine. I understand, of course, that it means I really don’t care too much about what we’ve been discussing or debating or what you’ve just said. It’s a kind of curt way to end that discussion.

As for server, I still have a problem with that one. I have no problem saying “Waiter!” or “Waitress!” or calling the waitress “Miss!” but saying “Server”? Nope, I just can’t get into that.

The first time I heard somebody ask for plain water, I almost laughed out loud. What on earth is that? I had to ask of course, and found out it means the customer doesn’t want bottled water or mineral water. I would have said tap water, but I guess that doesn’t sound nice enough, so now it’s plain water.

Grand uncle. Now that was a new one on me. It means the same thing as great uncle, in other words, the brother of one of your grandparents. And, of course, there’s also grand aunt besides great aunt. I’m sure these two terms have been around for a very long time, but until recently I’d never heard them. I guess the reasoning for saying grand uncle and grand aunt is that if you have a grandparent, you should also have a grand uncle and a grand aunt. We don’t say *greatparent, so why should we say great uncle/aunt? Of course I can see the logic in it.

Was I surprised to learn about grand uncle and grand aunt? Absolutely! Oops! There’s another word used in a relatively new way. Isn’t it amazing how often people use this adverb as a rejoinder nowadays? I try to use it sparingly, because I’ve noticed that one person can use it an outrageous number of times during just one short conversation, which starts to get on my nerves. It seems like every other word out of the person’s mouth is “Absolutely!” That can get absolutely irritating!

Another term that makes me exclaim “Live and learn” is weightage. According to Webster's New Millennium Dictionary of English, Preview Edition, 2003-2008, weightage is defined as “a weighing factor assigned to compensate for a perceived disadvantage.” I suppose it’s starting to take the place of the term handicap, which was the term used in my day. I'm told that it's still something heard more often in British English than North American English.

And last, but not least, we come to one of my favorites, theatrette, an offering from our cousins “down under” in Australia. We can easily figure out that it means, a relatively small theater, and I think it’s a great term. I first heard it not long ago while talking to a friend of mine from Perth. I’m not sure it’ll catch on throughout the English-speaking world, but I, for one, like it. And at least I didn’t have to squirm to figure out what my Australian friend was talking about when she used it! I can’t find this term in dictionaries yet, but I’m sure it’ll make its way into some in the near future.

So there you have it, a sampling of words and expressions that have either changed the way they’re used or have been created to fill a need that some speakers perceived was there. And the beat goes on! If this should teach us anything, it should be to react with interest and curiosity when we hear something new or something old that’s used in a new way. In the long run, that’ll make us better, more “with it” language teachers.

Head Scratchers, Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 03:28:00 +0000

Awhile back I wrote a piece with the same title as this piece, “Head Scratchers.” I had lots of fun with it, and I must say I enjoyed sharing my amazement with you over the things that people say or write without anybody questioning the logic of what they’ve come up with. I said in that piece that I’d have more little gems to comment on, and the time has come. So let’s get started.

First off, there’s the case of one of my all-time favorite redundancies: Church of Christ. Now really, can there be any other kind of church besides one that deals with Jesus Christ? Or there’s a Spanish version I’ve recently come across: Iglesia Cristiana, “Christian Church.” This is just silly. Jews have temples or synagogues; Muslims have mosques; Hindus and Buddhists have temples ― and Christians have churches. We know who churches are for.

Besides silly things people say or write, there are things in our grammar that make me scratch my head just as much as the kinds of things I talked about in my first piece on this topic. Take, for example, a newspaper headline like “Ice Cream Chain Co-Founder Dies.” (This was a story about Irvine Robbins, one of the co-founders of Baskin & Robbins, Inc.) Yes, I know it’s common to use the simple present in such headlines, but have you ever stopped to consider how silly that is, how funny that sounds, and how this use of the simple present can confuse ELL's? Here’s a verb form that signifies something done repeatedly or habitually, and it’s being applied to something like dying? Where’s the logic in that? I mean, if you’ve died, you’ve died. You’re not going to do that all the time! If you want to say Ice cream chain co-founder shaves, that’s okay. Ice cream co-founder smokes, that’s okay (grammatically speaking, anyway). But Ice cream co-founder dies? Doesn’t that bother you? There are points of English grammar that do bother me!

And just for the heck of it, how is it that highly is an adverb, but lowly is an adjective? (Just thought I’d throw that in.)

Continuing with more grammatical oddities, let’s talk about teeth whitening. I’m beginning to come across this outrageous creation of advertising more and more. TEETH whitening? Not TOOTH whitening? To begin with, the grammar rule is that when you’re compounding nouns ― which is what’s happening here ― the first element, the descriptive element, is almost always in the singular. That’s why we don’t say *bedsroom or *starslight. The exceptions are when that first element is normally used in the plural, like in the arms race. Why on earth would they think that teeth whitening would be acceptable? Do we say TEETHbrush or TEETH decay? And how about fingers or feet? Have you ever heard anybody say FINGERSprints or FEETprints? Exactly! I rest my case.

Finally, before we all run for some aspirin or blood pressure medicine, there’s the matter of unnecessary mispronunciations. Shouldn’t educated people at least approximate the way a name is pronounced? Not too long ago, the famous fashion designer Yves St. Laurent passed away. That’s pronounced “Eev San Laurón” for those in the know, not like my local news anchor who pronounced it, “Eev Saint Law-rent.” Ugh! And I recently heard the actor Ben Stiller do a public service announcement to help the victims of that horrible cyclone that hit Burma, also known as Myanmar, or, as Mr. Stiller so sophisticatedly pronounced it, “MY-an-mar,” as if the first syllable should rhyme with tie. I must have heard a hundred news stories about that country after the cyclone hit, and in every one of those stories, the reporters pronounced the name more or less correctly, “Myanmar.” But not our Mr. Stiller. I guess he never listens to the news. And along the same lines, another one of my local news anchors called the General Secretary of the United Nations “Ban Kigh Moon” (“Kigh” also rhyming with tie) instead of the right way, “Ban Kee Moon.” That gentleman is the Secretary General of the United Nations, for Pete’s sake!

Am I amazed at these mispronunciations? Yes! I would think that educated or professional people would know better. They don’t have to get the pronunciations exactly native-like, but they surely can come close if they just put a little effort in checking out the pronunciations when in doubt. The problem is, they don’t seem to care.

But that’s not what really gets me. What absolutely flabbergasts me is that those people aren’t working in a vacuum. They’re involved with script writers, producers, directors, videographers, et al., and yet nobody but nobody seems to notice their off-the-wall mispronunciations and think it important enough to save the day by giving them a tip on the right way to pronounce the name. That’s what flabbergasts me. I just don’t understand it.

Here’s one for you that you may not know. There’s a very ancient fish swimming around out there in the ocean that scientists thought had gone extinct about the same time as the dinosaurs. It’s the coelecanth. That’s right, you haven’t read it wrong; the coelacanth. Now don’t you think it would be a good idea to check out how on earth that name is pronounced? I certainly do. Well, it so happens that the name of that ancient fish ― which isn’t extinct after all ― is pronounced “SEE – luh – canth.” So, besides being one of the ugliest fish you can imagine, it’s also got a name whose spelling doesn’t give you much of a clue about its pronunciation. Of course that didn’t stop yet another TV newsperson from calling it ― yes, I’m sure you can guess ― the “koh – ELL – luh – canth.” You can imagine how fast I fired off an email to him! At least he had the courtesy to thank me for the correction.

Of course the example of the coelacanth is kind of understandable. It just boils down to laziness or not having enough curiosity to check the pronunciation out. As far as all the other gems I’ve cited in these two pieces like “Recorded before a live audience” or teeth whitening, I keep trying to come up with scenarios that will explain how such blunders are made, but I can’t. I simply can’t. If any of you can explain this to me, I’ll be very grateful. I’d like to stop scratching my head before my hair starts falling out.

I don’t think I’m being picky in these instances. Some things are acceptable, but some things just aren’t. And yet there they are, for all to hear and read and use. And we don’t have any Academy to rule on such usages, do we, or to tell us what is or isn’t silly. Nope, we don’t. With English, it all seems to be very “democratic,” so to speak. If enough people say it’s okay and use it, or simply don’t react negatively to it whatever it is, it becomes “acceptable.” That certainly doesn’t make our jobs as English teachers any easier, but what can you do? So even though I lowly recommend it, we may find ourselves having to teach our students these odd alternatives to what we traditionally considered “correct logic,” “correct English” or “correct pronunciation.” And, by the way, this piece has been pre-written.

If You Say it Right, You Hear it Right, Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 15:25:00 +0000

I’ve been asked to mention some more of the sounds that I think make the biggest difference in our students producing more native-like pronunciation (“If You Say it Right, You Hear it Right”), and I don’t have to think very hard to come up with the ones I think most important. Actually, I was very glad to be asked, and I’m happy to accommodate. If you focus your teaching on these sounds, I’m sure you’ll see a marked improvement in your students’ ability to understand the spoken language because, as I keep saying, if you say it right, you hear it right.

Let’s start off with the North American flapped d [D], but I should add a disclaimer here. I can’t escape the fact that I’m North American and that I teach American English, so this is a sound that’s found in North American pronunciation. If you happen to teach another variety of English, please understand this.

The flapped d is the sound of /t/ when it’s in medial position in an unstressed syllable. The funny thing is, many ELL’s tend to think they hear a trilled r when they’re not familiar with this sound in North American English. It’s produced by quickly flapping the tip of the tongue up against the hard palette (the front of the roof of the mouth). For example, when I say butter, it sounds like [bә-Dәr], not [bә-tәr]. (Unfortunately I can’t find the correct IPA symbol for the stressed schwa, which looks like a triangle without the bottom line, so I’ll have to settle for the schwa. Sorry about that.) Other words that contain the flapped d are party [par-Di], atom [æ-Dәm], and cattle [kæ-Dәl].

A sound in all varieties of English that I think is very important to accomplish better listening comprehension is the schwa /ә/. Many teachers don’t realize that it’s the most common vowel sound in the English language. In fact, when many vowel sounds are unstressed, they reduce to schwa. Here are some examples: America [ә-me-rә-kә], banana [bә-næ-nә], and giraffe [jә-ræf]. Get your students to reduce unstressed vowel sounds properly to schwa, and you’ll be helping them a lot towards better recognition of the words they hear and therefore towards better listening skills.

Moving right along, one that comes up more often than you might expect is the pronunciation of the final –ate in nouns, adjectives, and verbs. Take the word alternate. As a noun or adjective, that final –ate is pronounced [әt] or even [It], but when it’s a verb, the pronunciation changes to [et]. The same is true with words like associate and intimate. When used as nouns or adjectives, the final syllable is pronounced [әt] or [It], but when they’re used as verbs, the final syllable is pronounced [et]. Such a change in sound can really throw students who aren’t aware of this phenomenon.

And speaking of language phenomena, another gem that really improves students’ listening skills is when they’re made aware of the phenomenon we call juncture, which I discussed at length in my last blog entry ("A Cheap Present of Reef Fish for Ronny"). So make it a point to teach your students about juncture, and their listening skills should definitely improve.

That’s it, folks. Between this piece and Part 1, I’ve now covered the sounds that I think go a long way to giving our students better listening skills. I strongly believe that if you say it right, you’ll hear it right. Am I right? I’d love for you to share your thoughts on this topic and any anecdotes you might have from your own teaching experiences, so feel free to write in.

A Cheap Present of Reef Fish for Ronny

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 03:07:00 +0000

Can you figure out by looking carefully at the title of this piece what my topic is this week? (I’ll give you a hint: It’s something to do with pronunciation.) Go ahead . . . Say the title out loud a few times and see if you can figure out the topic.

Have you got it? Are you still clueless? Okay, I’ll let the cat out of the bag. The topic of this piece is a little something that I think is often overlooked when pronunciation lessons are planned, much to my chagrin. It’s called juncture, the joining point of two sounds. This is an area of pronunciation that’s problematic for people learning English. It happens when the final consonant sound of one word and the initial consonant sound of the following word are identical or closely related. When you have this situation, native speakers basically connect or join the two sounds, creating what sounds like one word instead of two.

Take, for example, the phrase a sad dog. Most English language learners will try to pronounce sad and dog as separate words like this: a sad dog, but native speakers will join the final sound of sad and the initial sound of dog and say a saddog. When native speakers do this, they hold on to the conjoined sound just a fraction longer than they normally would. That’s juncture!

To get you into the swing of things, here are more examples to demonstrate juncture at work when we’re dealing with either voiced or voiceless sounds in both words. Say each pair out loud and you’ll see what I mean:

Bob_Barker / half_full / a big_girl / pick_cotton / clean nails / a ripe_pear /
the bus_stop / sweet_tomatoes / both_thumbs / bathe_the dog / too much_sugar

Did you hear juncture at work in each of these pairs when you said them out loud? And did you notice how you held on to the conjoined sounds just a little bit longer than normal? Now you’re cookin’!

Ah, but what about the words first and student? The final sound in one word and initial sound in the other word is the combination [st]. How does this work, you ask? Well, when we combine such sounds, it’s the [s] that’s held and the [t] in the first word is dropped, so we end up with She’s the firs_student to win that award. The same disappearing act happens with words like past and dances: I’ve enjoyed all the pas_dances at our school.

English has exceptions to lots of its rules, so why should juncture be any exception? Yep, there are a couple of exceptions to the rules that deal with juncture. The first exception is when we have the sound [ch]. If one word ends with [ch] and the next word begins with [ch] or [j], we have no juncture: a rich chowder, a rich janitor. Interestingly enough, this doesn’t happen when the first word ends with [ch] and the next word begins with [sh]. We saw that earlier in the phrase too much_sugar.

The other exception to our rules is when we’re dealing with the sound [j] in both words, as in orange juice. Once again, there’s no juncture.

But we’re not quite finished yet! There’s one more thing to mention. What happens if the two words have closely related sounds, but one ends in a voiced sound and the other begins in a voiceless sound, or vice versa? For example, what about if we have rob and Peter? Both [b] and [p] are related because they’re both bilabials produced by quickly closing and opening the lips. So what happens in this case since the final sound of rob is voiced, while the initial sound of Peter is voiceless? In this case, instead of combining the two sounds into one and holding the sound for a split second longer, the two sounds actually remain independent. The final sound of the first word is held a little longer, and then it glides into the initial sound of the next word. So getting back to rob and Peter, we say They’re going to rob_Peter.

Here are a few more examples of this neat little phonological trick:

a bad_temper / big_cats / a great_decision /
pick_grapefruit / a tough_vampire / his_slacks

So there you have it. As you can see, there’s quite a bit to say about this neat occurrence called juncture and why it’s something that shouldn’t be overlooked in teaching English pronunciation. I rest my case. Oh! Just to get back to the title of this piece for a moment, how should we say it out loud? This is how: A cheap_present of reef_fish for_Ronny. That’s how!

Sometimes Reform Can Spell Disaster!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 04:14:00 +0000

Can you spell /pyu-sә-læ-nә-mәs/ the way it’s normally written? I can’t ― unless I look it up in a dictionary. I mean, why should I know how to spell it? I never use the word. Well, okay, it’s spelled pusillanimous, and it means “afraid to take even a small risk” or “cowardly.” Talk about a low-frequency word!

But what about /ne-bәr/ or /saI-ka-lә-ji/? Can you spell those the way they’re normally written? Oh, you feel better now, don’t you. You know I’m talking about neighbor and psychology, right? Did you have trouble spelling those two? I have a hunch you didn’t. They’re high-frequency words, so you’ve seen them and used them many, many times. That’s why you had no trouble spelling them.

So how would you feel if I told you that from now on they should be nebr and sykaluji? How would that grab you? (I think I can see you grimacing.) That first one looks like it could be a kind of phonetic transcription of an ancient Egyptian word, and the other looks like it belongs to some Turco-Mongolian language. They certainly don’t look like English anymore!

And that’s my point. For years and years there have been many people calling for a drastic reform of English spelling. They claim that the majority of even US high school students can’t spell well, and that too much time is spent trying to teach English speakers how to spell their language. I can’t argue with them about that; I’m sure it’s true. I’m also sure that we’re stuck with the spelling system ― if it is a system ― that we’ve got, but I don’t know if that’s such a bad thing.

True, if you look over the history of English spelling, you can’t help but laugh out loud at times when you find out what people did to make the system illogical, awkward, and somewhat inconsistent. Part of the problem comes from the fact that monastic scribes, and later on, printers, had a great deal of influence on how we spell words.

Do you know why so many words contain the combination ck? Some scribes decided that spelling could show it’s necessary to maintain a short vowel sound if that vowel is separated from another vowel by doubling a consonant. That’s why we know how to pronounce pinning vs. pining, or robbed vs. robed. But those scribes didn’t like the look of kk ― it just wasn’t esthetically pleasing to them, I guess ― so they arbitrarily decided to write ck instead. They thought that looked prettier. That’s why we now write picked instead of pikked and won't confuse its pronunciation with piked. Hah!

And do you know why we spell the word lamb with that silent b? Well, those scribes kept the b in comb and tomb and climb as a reminder of their older forms in which the b was pronounced (camban, tumba, and climban). So when they wrote that word that means a baby sheep, they automatically added that b even though in its original form the word never had a b. We should still be writing it lam, not lamb! And the list of oddities like these goes on and on.

But let’s get serious for a moment. It’s all right ― or alright ― to scream for spelling reform, for a more phonetic way of writing English. But has anybody come up with a system that will work? Not the way I look at it. One big question I have to ask is, with so many variations in the pronunciation of English words, whose pronunciation will we choose to use as the standard for sound/symbol correspondence? If you want to make the system more or less phonetic like we find in Spanish or Russian or German, whose pronunciation will each vowel or consonant represent? Will it be that of the Australians, or New Englanders, or Cockneys, or the British who use “received pronunciation,” RP? Take the word path. If I’m American, I say [pæθ]. If I’m British using RP, I say [pa:θ]. And if I’m a Cockney, I say [pa:f]. So how can we be true to a phonetic way of writing when one word can be pronounced so differently by people who are all native speakers of English? I think you see my point. It just won’t work!

At any rate, we don’t learn to read and write one letter at a time, not after the very beginning. We learn sight recognition, looking at a whole word all at once and recognizing what it is. We don’t sound out each letter of a familiar word when we read it, not if we’re normal readers. To me that’s akin to how Chinese characters are read. They, too, are in a system that relies on reading by sight recognition. So this is one more reason I can’t take those spelling reformers seriously.

And one other thing ― a very important thing ― that they overlook is the personality and unique identification that our spelling system gives to the written language. Take a look again at how I suggested we spell neighbor and psychology. For me there’s something special, almost mysterious, about why those words are spelled as they are. And if I choose to, I can find out the reasons by learning more about the history of the language, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Neighbor comes from two Anglo-Saxon words, neah and gebor, which mean “near farmer.” I like seeing the remnants of those ancient words in the spelling. And psychology is really interesting, too. The p was pronounced in the original Greek word psychos, which means something like “soul.” The Romans incorporated that word into their own language, but they had a problem. Greek had a sound similar to the Scottish or German ch that didn’t exist in Latin, so the Romans chose to represent that sound as ch even though they pronounced it more like a k. Our one word is really from two Greek words, psychos and logos, which mean something like “the study of the soul.” I find there’s a romance in such spellings that I don’t want to lose. Is it impractical? Perhaps, but it adds a character, a personality, a charm to English that I think well worth keeping.

Of course, the most compelling argument for not reforming the English spelling system is this: What will happen to spelling bees? Would you want to take away the fun that so many children have competing in those contests? Would you want to be that spoil-sport? Not I!

And the Answer is . . . Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 01:37:00 +0000

In a few previous entries on my blog, I listed some interesting idiomatic expressions, commonly used terms the origins of which most native speakers don’t have a clue about. I also listed some commonly heard errors that, at least for now, are mostly still considered errors. I’ve already listed some of the answers in “And the Answer is …” Now it’s time for me to list the answers to more of those interesting little bits and pieces that make English so much fun to delve into. The ones listed below are some of the quirks of English that I asked about in rhetorical questions for you to consider. I’m also including those commonly heard errors that may end up becoming acceptable one of these days. As English teachers whose bread and butter is the state of the English language, we should have some knowledge at least of the more commonly used idioms that pop up in conversation so frequently that our students are bound to ask us about eventually, and we should be thinking about changes that are going on right now in how native speakers use this language. So here’s information about some of those quirks and errors I mentioned in those earlier entries. I hope you continue to find them informative and entertaining.

1. Why is it that things like trees can burn up and burn down at the same time?
On the face of it, these do seem to be contradictory, don’t they? But they’re really not, of course. The particle up isn’t being used in its literal sense here. Up can be used with certain verbs to mean “completely,” so to burn up really means “to burn completely.” Here are some others that work with a similar meaning for up: blow up, clean up, cut up, drink up, eat up, grind up, grow up, lap up, and tie up.

Now down, on the other hand, is used in its literal meaning, so if a tree or a house burns down, we really mean that every part of it has come tumbling down to the ground. Some other verbs that work more or less the same way with down are blow down, bring down (in its literal meaning and one idiomatic meaning, i.e., to kill or disable a large animal), fall down, go down, lay down, lie down, put down (in its literal sense), sit down, and stay down.

2. Think about this: When an alarm clock goes off, it goes on.
This is a fun one! Once again, we seem to be looking at opposites as far as those particles are concerned, but they don’t represent their literal meanings here. The difference is that while both phrasal verbs mean that some sort of machine starts functioning, if it goes off, it begins working with an accompanying loud noise or explosive effect, whereas if it goes on, it simply begins working. So I suppose that’s why an alarm clock goes off, but a coffee maker goes on.

In those previous entries, I listed some of the most typically heard errors, which are so common nowadays that at least one has already been raised to the rank of “acceptability.” The others I've listed may follow suit, the way things are going. Who knows?

3. I think I’ll lay down for half an hour. Wake me up at 6.
Even though the more conservative of us grammar wonks still don’t accept lay and lay down as intransitive verbs, but feel that lie and lie down should be the only intransitives in this “contest,” how long can you fight City Hall? I, for one, hear lay and lay down used intransitively more than lie and lie down, so at this point I just sigh and move on. There are even dictionaries that have given in to this change!

4. This paint goes on real easy. / She does her work quicker than most of my employees.
Real easy should be really easily or very easily, and quicker should be more quickly. Although I don’t think these are considered acceptable alternative forms, the two of them tend to be moving in that direction. We’ll have to wait and see what the outcome is on these.

What’s very interesting to me is that I see a greater and greater trend towards using adjectives instead of adverbs in certain sentence environments and in certain collocations. I know I’ll be getting around to writing a blog entry on this issue at some point in the future, so please stay tuned.

5. If he didn’t move away from that tree, he would have been killed when the lightning struck.
I’ve noticed more and more that native speakers ― even educated ones ― are using the present subjunctive form in this type of unreal conditional sentence (didn't move away) than the correct past subjunctive form, which in this sentence is hadn’t moved away. I find this a frightening trend, one I really don’t like hearing at all. If you pay attention every time you hear somebody utter this kind of unreal idea in the past, listen to how often the speaker uses the wrong form in the subjunctive (or if) clause.

This seems to be a relatively new trend, unlike the sentence construction that’s been around for a very long time in which people use two conditionals instead of a subjunctive and a conditional. For example when they say, I would’ve helped you if you would’ve asked me.

6. A: Do you know where’s the main office? B: Sorry, I’m not sure where it’s at.
Speaker A is demonstrating an interesting trend in the question above. This may be happening due to the influence of immigrants on the language, but I’m really not sure about the cause. The correct word order is Do you know where the main office is? but I’ve heard this kind of incorrect word order used more and more frequently.

As for what Speaker B says, it’s amazing how many people, usually in less educated groups, don’t feel they’ve uttered a complete idea in a question or statement with where unless they throw in at at the end of the utterance. If you happen to get that popular TV show Cops where you live, listen to how almost every single police officer throws in that at at the end of a question or statement containing where. Of course there’s absolutely no need for using at in an utterance with where.

7. We utilize at least a cord of wood in the fireplace every winter to make the living room warm and cozy.
It’s interesting how so many native speakers mix up use and utilize. I have a hunch they use utilize ― or should I say they utilize utilize ― to sound more “educated” or formal. But in reality they’re just using the wrong word. Our speaker should say We use at least a cord of wood … When you’re talking about the specific, direct purpose for something, you use it. When you’re talking about finding a way to accomplish something by means of using a thing not necessarily designed or planned for that use, then you utilize it. After all, utilize means “to make a use for” something. I can choose to say something like I utilize an old toothbrush to clean the grout on my tiled bathroom walls. Of course, I could opt to say I use an old toothbrush, too. But it would sound odd to say I utilize a toothbrush to brush my teeth. I think you get the idea.

I hope you've found this entry informative and entertaining. And I hope it helps kindle that curiosity in you to look into where certain words and expressions come from, see trends that are developing for better or worse in English grammar, and think more about the proper or improper use of certain words. If any others come to mind, please feel free to mention them here.

A Rose by Any Other Name, Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 03:24:00 +0000

Okay, I know you’re not supposed to do something like this, but let’s eavesdrop on a conversation:

A: I hear your brother’s in a correctional facility. Is that true?
B: Yes, I’m sad to say.
A: What happened?
B: It was all a misunderstanding. He worked for a large clothing retailer. He was let go after he was caught with pilfered goods. My brother didn’t know what they were. The guy who gave them to him said they’d fallen off the back of a truck.
A: Oh, I see. Hmm … And how’s your younger brother doing?
B: He’s between jobs right now. He’s returned to the nest, so that’s good for him financially, but he’s got payments to make on a pre-owned car he bought recently.

Don’t you love the way English can soften reality, or help us avoid directly facing ugly facts, or help us to be more tactful? In an earlier entry also entitled “A Rose by Any Other Name,” we started delving into the wonderful world of euphemisms, and that’s what we’ll continue to do right now.

Speaking of which, how many euphemisms can you find in that conversation? Go ahead, count them. Let’s see what you get. I’ll wait . . .

All done? So how many did you find? I found nine. And here they are:

1. I hear Translation: Somebody – I won’t say who – told me that . . .
2. correctional facility Translation: jail
3. It was all a misunderstanding. Translation: My brother really screwed up.
4. He was let go. Translation: He was fired.
5. pilfered Translation: stolen
6. They’d fallen off the back of a truck. Translation: They’d been stolen.
7. between jobs Translation: unemployed
8. has returned to the nest Translation: living at home with momma and poppa again
9. a pre-owned car Translation: a used car

It says a lot about a culture that uses euphemisms in such a way. Sometimes euphemisms soften a not-so-pleasant truth, as we’ve seen in this conversation; at other times, they can be used to show respect or deference to a group of people. Just look at all the euphemisms English has created ― and I’m sorry to be so blunt ― for old people: the elders, the elderly, the aged, people in their golden years, retired people, mature people, and the ever popular seniors or senior citizens. Why is it, I ask you, that the word old has such a negative connotation? It’s not inherent in the language, is it? It’s a cultural thing, of course. But that’s the whole point: Euphemisms are completely culture-bound.

Sometimes we can see two totally different ways that segments of our population view something by the euphemisms they choose. For example, what about the dead? We can be reverent when talking about somebody who’s dead, or we can be flippant. I wonder which group has the sillier ways of telling you that somebody’s dead.

So let’s be reverent for a moment.

A: Did you hear about poor old Mr. Mertz?
B: No, what?
A: He’s passed/passed away/passed on/passed over/deceased/expired/gone to meet his maker/resting in peace/in a better place/crossed over/defunct/departed/
gone/been taken/succumbed/no longer with us/given up the ghost.
B: Oh. Do you mean he’s dead?
A: Yes, poor thing.

And now let’s be a little flippant.

A: Hear about Billy-Bob?
B: No, what?
A: He’s pushing up the daisies/bit the dust/bought the farm/cashed in his chips/
checked out/kicked the bucket.
B: Oh. Ya mean he’s dead?
A: Duh!

I suppose both ways of imparting such news are equally effective in the long run. I just think it’s fascinating that we’d rather opt for one of those euphemisms rather than just come right out and say the poor guy croaked . . . er, died. And then we have this quaint way of letting you know that somebody’s dead by saying the late so-and-so. How bizarre is that? Late? Late for what?? If Mr. Mertz’s time was up, how can we say he’s the late Mr. Mertz? That’s a head scratcher, if you ask me!

Of course my favorite area for euphemisms deals with that always popular sport, sex! In a culture that still has trouble dealing with this topic, euphemisms abound. Just look at some of the ways we can talk about having sex: have carnal knowledge of/have (intimate) relations (with)/make love (with/to)/have an affair (with)/sleep with/sleep together (with)/go to bed with/make whoopee/there was some hanky panky/fooling around/monkey business/playing around. And the beat goes on!

Yes, euphemisms definitely serve a variety of purposes. One thing’s for sure, they certainly enliven the language! But on a more serious note, we also use euphemisms to deal with delicate subjects, especially politically correct ones such as handicaps. People who are sensitive to the handicapped have a lot of credit coming to them, especially those people who insist that proper terminology be used when discussing different kinds of handicaps and the individuals who deal with them. If you’d like to see something very interesting and meaningful, the Life Span Institute of the University of Kansas has set up an online site where you can familiarize yourself with the current terminology that should and should not be used when talking about handicaps. Visit the Life Span Institute and see what I mean. It’s a great way to teach ELL students this very important vocabulary. On that Web site, just click on “Appropriate Terminology.”

And if you’ve got any favorite euphemisms that haven’t been covered here and you’d like to share them with us, please leave a comment for all of us to see. Now that I’m feeling a bit knackered, I think I’ll go to the bedroom to rest ― even though I still think it should be called the restroom! I mean, after all, isn’t that what we do there? Hmm?

Assistance! Assistance! My Manse Has Ignited!

noreply@blogger.com (AzarGrammar.com) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 15:01:00 +0000

Just picture this: a nice, mild, forest-covered island 1,000 years ago. The people were your quaint, average peasants doing what all average peasants did 1,000 years ago: eking out a living from the land, poaching deer from their feudal lord’s woodlands, picking lice off one another. And these people happened to speak something we now call Anglo-Saxon, or Old English. One Germanic language, one vocabulary, and for those relatively few who could read and write, one easy-to-learn phonetic spelling system. Ah, those were the days! A house was a house was a house. It wasn’t a hut and it wasn’t a manse. It was a house, or more accurately, a hus.

But then 1066 came along, and all that bucolic Anglo-Saxon simplicity went the way of the Neanderthals. William and his Norman French just couldn’t resist the real estate on the other side of the English Channel and decided the Saxons needed better governing, better education, and better language. So they controlled everything, and when they weren’t speaking their form of French, they were speaking Medieval Latin while the peasants were still muttering away in Anglo-Saxon. Well, that didn’t last for too long. The languages started getting mixed together in some very odd ways. You could eat some cow, or you could eat some beef. You could get some help, or you could receive some assistance. You could work the land, or you could work the soil. You could live in a town, or you could live in a village. And the funny thing is, there were these extra words now that basically had the same meaning. Things were starting to get complicated.

Here’s a short conversation* as it might be spoken by descendants of those Norman French:

(Knock! Knock! Knock!)
A: Enter!
B: Salutations, Griselda! It’s five o’clock, time to invest yourself in your chapeau and coat and remove yourself from the office. A group of us are contemplating descending to “The Blue Dragon,” removing some victuals from the premises, and returning to Maria’s to have dinner.
What do you say? Want to join us?
A: I really don’t have the desire to because I’m trying to recuperate from this terrible catarrh I’ve had for days. Oh, and could you please extinguish that cigarette? It’ll cause another one of my famous coughing attacks to happen.

Did that seem a little strange? You can bet the ranch that native English speakers think so! Okay then, how might the very same conversation sound if spoken by descendants of those poor Anglo-Saxons?

(Knock! Knock! Knock!)
A: Come in!
B: Hi, Griselda! It’s five o’clock, time to put on your hat and coat and take off. A group of us are thinking about going down to “The Blue Dragon,” picking up some food to take out, and going
back to Maria’s to have a meal together. What do you say? Want to go with us?
A: I really don’t feel like it because I’m trying to get over this awful cold I’ve had for days. Oh, and could you please put out that cigarette? It’ll bring on another one of my famous coughing spells.

Quite a difference, wouldn’t you say? And yet it’s exactly the same conversation. A native English speaker will probably start grinning if he listens to the first conversation. Why? Because many of the words used in that conversation are not considered “appropriate” for an everyday, casual chat. The words and some of the phrasing seem too “high class,” too “uppity.” The vocabulary used in that conversation draws unnecessary attention to itself, whereas the vocabulary in the second conversation doesn’t. Is this something unique to English? It may very well be. It’s said that English has the largest vocabulary of any language in the world. Well, if these two versions of the same dialogue don’t help to prove that assertion, nothing will!

One of the most daunting challenges that ESOL students have is trying to figure out and then remember which words are the typical ones used in everyday conversation and which ones are used in very formal or highly academic situations. Of course, an ESOL student coming from a Romance language background has the hardest time doing this. Many of the words that are obviously the same in both languages are considered “uppity” by English speakers when used in everyday conversation, but just considered the regular, “normal” words by students who speak a Romance language. I don’t know how many times I, for one, have had to correct students who come from Romance languages when they’d say something like, “I have to go to the airport to receive my brother” (as if he’s coming in a box or something). That sounds so odd! I’d jump right in and say, “You have to go to the airport to meet or greet or pick up your brother.” Well, what about this sentence: “The Queen received the new American ambassador at St. James’s Palace yesterday.” Aha! See what I mean? Receive just doesn’t work in the student’s sentence, but it certainly does okay in the sentence about the Queen. And don’t we traditionally have receiving lines at events like weddings? Hmm??

Because the Norman French controlled the government, the Church, and the universities for quite some time, a great many of the words they introduced into English are associated with high society and higher learning even to this day, while the Anglo-Saxon words we still use, coming down to us from the peasants of a thousand years ago, are considered the casual, everyday language that we use most of the time. Quite a legacy! Who would think we could have such historical, linguistic baggage to carry around for so long? Well, we do. But we ESOL teachers love a good challenge, don’t we? Or don’t we? Perhaps this is food for thought when planning out vocabulary lessons. At least it’s something worth pondering.

*Richard Firsten with Patricia Killian. The ELT Grammar Book: A Teacher-Friendly Reference Guide. Alta Book Center Publishers. 2002