I used to be a grammar cop. Nay, a self-appointed grammar cop. That’s the worst kind.
Grammatically incorrect flyer? I’d edit it in pen. Free of charge! Misspelled graffiti in a toilet stall? Why, I carried a Sharpie for just such occasions. I’d silently tsk-tsk a friend’s incorrect use of an apostrophe S to make a word plural on their social media posts. (Posts. Not post’s.)
My thinking was that standard English
has definitive, teachable rules
that everyone can learn
and should follow.
If you don’t get it right, it’s because you’re not trying hard enough,
or you had bad teachers,
or you didn’t check your work,
or all of the above.
And honestly? I was going to judge you for it.
(Note that I said “standard English.” We’ll come back to that later.)
Yessiree, I was going to judge you. Until…
Until I learned better, thanks to a neurodivergent child, dedicated teachers, and good research.
Some background. Growing up, I got straight As without trying much. I actually looked forward to end-of-grade standardized tests. Hours of easy (for me) quiet testing were a pleasant reprieve from the incessant socio-political drama of tween and teen cliques.
My husband was good at school, too - if and only if he thought it was worth bothering with.
So when we had a baby, I assumed Child would be good at school.
I have always had big anxiety and mental health issues, so Child’s mental health was on my radar. Fully tuned in to warning signs there. Academic difficulties? Not on my radar. Until Child tried to read.
Excellent schools, excellent teachers. A home filled with books. But reading just kept being strangely difficult. By second grade we knew something wasn’t working.
Cue multiple consultations with experts. A serious outlay of cash, since this wasn’t covered by our insurance. Months of tensely waiting for results. The official diagnosis: reading disability (dyslexia).
By the way, in our house we say learning differences, not disabilities. Because that’s exactly what they are: differences.
Child is now Teen. Teen has consistently described their experience of dyslexia as “words and numbers literally jumping around on the page.” Interestingly, text is wigglier some days than others. By now Teen has learned to do as much homework as possible on “good dyslexia days” to allow space for “bad dyslexia days.” Tests? Well, y’all, that’s a crapshoot. We cross our fingers and roll the dice.
We were incredibly fortunate to find local schools with dedicated teachers who specialize in learning differences. We were incredibly privileged to have the resources to afford these schools.
These teachers helped Child learn how he learns. They taught Child how to reach out to his future teachers at the beginning of each semester. They helped Child find ways to study according to how his brain works. Child worked hard and began to excel.
And with all that, reading can still feel as effortful and exhausting as decrypting a code. And it seems like spelling is just always going to be an issue.
“Why don’t you just use spellcheck?”
Well thanks ever so much, Captain Obvious, but spellcheck can’t help with a word unless you can spell it closely enough to be recognized. Spellcheck often doesn’t catch the incorrect use of a homonym. (Wood instead of would, wear for where, etc.) It sure won’t correct pubic service to public service. And it’s unavailable during tests.
“What about a dictionary?”
Oh, bless your heart, Helpy McHelperton. Dictionaries are also not allowed during tests. Plus, you have to be able to spell a word well enough to find it. And if you have dyslexia, it may be VERY difficult to (1) keep track of alphabetical order AND (2) read the small print of a dictionary.
“Geez. Fine. You can ask Siri.”
You sure can, Miss Priss, except that you might still have to choose the correct version of a homonym Siri offers you. And, say it with me now: not allowed during tests.
Shewwwww.
I’m grateful for the teachers, including college professors, who ignore spelling on tests and instead focus on whether a student demonstrates critical thinking skills and good comprehension of the material.
This and other accommodations help create the conditions for equity.
It seems a quite sensible and informed approach if you ask me. It recognizes and honors differences without changing educational expectations.
I’m grateful Child’s teachers taught me to use the same approach.
Instead of judging spelling or grammar (unless it’s a finished paper, that’s a different scenario), look for the meaning in what’s being communicated.
(Speaking of finished papers: I definitely still judge professionally edited material. I’m not an angel. A petty bitch has to have some fun, people.)
But like allyship with ANY marginalized group, it should NOT have taken me a personal experience to show me the error of my ways.
I should have realized it ages back, in my elementary, middle, and high school classrooms.
I clearly remember classmates—one in particular, who was a brilliant poet—who were swept off to the “resource room” for “special ed.” Never to be seen by us “mainstream” or “gifted” kids again.
And that is totally MY BAD. Those students were escorted out of sight and I let them go out of mind.
My bad that it took one of my own to get me here. But I am here now.
I understand that what I was guilty of, friends, was snobbery at its worst.
Snobbery: the character or quality of being a person who believes that their tastes in a particular area are superior to those of other people. That means me thinking correct grammar is superior grammar. That means me thinking that folks who misspell things are lazy.
And I hate to say it, but it’s not just me.
A whole lot of folks who would never, ever shame people for other reasons, are as guilty of intellectual snobbery as I am.
For instance: how many of us have found ourselves feeling affirmed in thinking a politician we don’t like is stupid, not (just) because of their politics, but because of the way they talk, misspell, or mispronounce things?
Ahem. Nucular. Potatoe.
How many of us secretly judge “country folk” as ignorant because of misspellings on hand-lettered signs we pass on rural roads?
I am guilty. I am guilty of thinking there even IS one correct standard (we’ll get there). Why not make room for multiple, and equally valid, forms of expression? What do we have to lose?
More importantly: what do we stand to gain?
In Restorative Justice, one of our guidelines is Listen to understand, not to respond.
I LOVE that guideline — and trust me: it’s a game changer.
I’ve applied it, in a modified way, to grammar, spelling, pronunciation, fluency.
Read or listen to understand what is being communicated. Regardless of spelling or grammar.
The point of language is communication.
So what if it comes in different variations?
What do I care how something is spelled, as long as I can understand what a person is trying to convey?
I don’t know how a person’s brain works.
I have no idea what kind of education they’ve had, or not had.
I don’t know their life circumstances.
What I do know is this: no matter how someone speaks or writes, they have valuable things to say. They have stories to tell and wisdom to share. Guaranteed.
Someone who can’t spell for crapola might be a legit genius at music composition, mechanics, relationships, physics, animal care, or growing the best dang tomato you’ve ever tasted.
Think of how much I could have been learning from these folks if I hadn’t been so busy judging.
I’ve missed out on a lot.
Whew.
Oooh, y’all, I have so much more to say about this.
But you’re important and busy folk so I’ll stop here for now.
Coming soon: “You Shall Not Pass, Part Two,” where we fight with the Balrog of so-called standard English.
We’ll talk about gatekeeping, power, academic writing, legalese, Quaker speak, and African American Vernacular English.
Until then,
Thanks for reading. And for being your shiny bright selves.
Xoxo
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Gramma’s a bumma, eh?
We slur Aussie lingo - thank the Echidna it's not English! Yeh, nah, gramma’s gotta go.
We spel reel gud, but, dont cha reckon?
I live in a country (Germany) where the grammar is 10x as complex and the language police 2x more obnoxious. The Germans have no idea how stupid their 10,000 rules are, in that most of them cause stress and work without contributing to clarity. "Gendering" is the latest rave: nouns referring to persons have masculine and feminine forms, and both must be present if the gender of a referenced person can be either - e.g. Ingenieur, Ingenieurin (engineer, female engineer). If you use only the generic form (which used to be OK), you are being sexist. English was originally a German dialect and as grammatically messy as German. English benefited from "foreigner invasions" over the last 1200 years or so, bringing in new words and throwing out unnecessary rules. The result has been wonderful. Language is how people speak, and people are always finding new ways to speak. One sometimes hears today "I be, you be, he be", and that is fine with me. Simplify!