Correct me! Please! Really?

Do you suffer from foreign language anxiety?  You are not alone!

Most language learners I have known raise their hands when this question is put to them: How many of you want someone to tell you when you make a mistake in your new language?  "Sure," most people will respond with looks on their faces that say, "Any more dumb questions?"

The common sense logic of error correction goes something like this.  If I am learning a new language, I will naturally make lots of mistakes.  If someone will just let me know when I make a mistake, I'll correct it, and then eventually I'll speak my new language perfectly.

NOT!  

Unfortunately, language learning isn't as straightforward as all that.  Let's delve deeper into the topic of  "error correction,"  which by the way is a controversial topic in second language acquisition.

Imagine that you are trying to express a thought aloud in your new language.  Your brain is working overtime to put together new sounds, new words, and new structures in a timely manner. If someone corrects your language while you are speaking, the interruption usually has undesirable effects rather than the helpful effects probably intended.  (We'll give the benefit of the doubt to people who correct others' language, assuming  they are not just demonstrating their superiority!)

Being corrected while you are delivering language to the world is no fun, even for those of us with the toughest egos.  Language learning anxiety may set in.

Do you ever feel like this learning a new language?

Even if you feel  you are tough enough to take a correction because you really want to learn this new language, this is the thing:   The correction will most likely be of no future use to you because your brain is creating what YOU want to say, not what someone else wants to say. And even if you repeat a corrected pronunciation, or a word choice, or a grammar point, you will probably be merely parroting back the correction.  In order for the correction to be of any help to you in the future, you need to process that information in your own brain on your own terms.

Your brain at work

For example, let's say that you are learning Spanish, and you want to express the sentence "I  live in Texas." A common mistake for a beginning learner is to fail to conjugate the verb correctly (put the right ending on the verb) and say "*Yo vive (instead of the correct vivo) en Tejas."   

How horrible is this error, after all?  The listener can still understand that the learner is saying "I live" because yo means "I."  A correction or (heaven forbid!) an explanation of the concept of verb paradigms in Spanish would not be helpful here.  You may lose focus of the meaning you are trying to communicate.  You may also feel confused or guilty because your verb endings aren't correct yet.

So, how do we ever start putting the correct endings on verbs that refer to "I"?  It happens when we hear enough examples of matching "yo" with an "o" on the end of the verb, that the correction is made in our own minds.  "Oh," we may say internally,  "I must be saying that verb wrong, because everyone else puts an "o" where I have been putting an "e."  Self-correction is more gentle and, much more importantly, more lasting than correction by someone else.

I can imagine a reader's mind whirling at this point. processing the idea that self-correction is better than external correction. "What if I say something that I didn't realize was really objectionable in the new language?"

Have you ever put your foot in your mouth?

I might want to be corrected in this case!  But I'm still going to keep making one request  of my conversation partners when I am learning new languages, "If you truly want to help me, please don't correct my errors!"

Modern reflections on "A Visit from St. Nicholas"

"A Visit from St. Nicholas" is always part of my Christmas holidays, whether I re-read the famous poem in a well-worn book or listen to a reading on an iPad or iPhone. After all these years, I  can almost recite the poem by heart, although I do occasionally falter on the names of the reindeer.

The poem was first published in 1823 and is generally attributed to Clement Clark Moore.  For this Christmas season, I thought it might be enjoyable to look through the poem to comment on some of the language used in the poem.  After all, it was written 191 years ago!  This version was taken from http://classiclit.about.com/

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

(Santa Claus would be a more common name nowadays.)




The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

(I had always pictured sugar plums as a good sized piece of fruit covered with sugar. A quick Google search identified a sugar plum as a small round candy boiled in sugar.)

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

(I can't imagine sleeping with my head covered, but then I do live in the Desert Southwest with warmer winter weather.)

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

(Hum. "Settled our brains" sounds very old-fashioned. Maybe just "settled down"or "settled in" would be more common now.)



When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

(I love this image because it presents a window style from the past. In modern times, we would probably just raise a glass window.)




The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

("Breast" has been substituted for by "crest"is some modern versions.)

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny [sic] reindeer.




With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

(Okay. Do you know what a "courser" is? I do now - a spirited horse!)




"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"




As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

(I have never been in a hurricane, but I have been in some pretty strong West Texas windstorms, so the image of the flying leaves still works for me.)

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of Toys [sic], and St Nicholas too.




And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.




He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of Toys [sic] he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

(A "peddler" is an itinerant salesman, which was a more common occupation in the 19th century than the present.)




His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.




The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

(Big cultural shifts here! An overweight St. Nicholas smoking would not be a good role model in our health-conscious society.)




He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.




He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

(I always wondered why St. Nick put his finger by his nose before he went back up the chimney. Some sort of magic charm?)




He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

(Some modern version have changed "'ere" to "as," although "'ere" means "before" and "as" means "while.")

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

(Merry Christmas is more common in the modern day United States.)


I hope that doing a little linguistic analysis of "A Visit from St. Nicolas" hasn't ruined the beauty and the imagery of the poem for you. I still love the poem, old-fashioned language and allusions and all.

And I wish all of you a very "Happy Christmas" as well.

Banishing language doubts

Doubts about "correct" language!  We all have them from time to time.  My doubts occur as a slightly unpleasant feeling somewhere in my body (stomach?  brain?). I remember having those feelings especially when I worked in an academic environment.  After all, someone (heaven forbid!) might criticize my language use.

For example, I often needed to talk about more than one syllabus.  So were they "syllabi" or "syllabuses"?  The plural form of "curriculum" was a constant decision - were they "curricula" or "curriculums"?  The word "data" often came up in class.  Should I use "the data is" or "the data are"?  Would I be attending several "symposia" or "symposiums" during the year?  So many decisions!  

A quick glance at my trusty Merriam Webster Dictionary just set my mind somewhat at ease. Each of the alternate forms above were listed as correct.   I had done some unnecessary worrying. But the fact remains that even if a form is listed as correct in a dictionary, if that form is not used by others in a certain environment, I would probably still choose the form that would draw the least amount of negative attention to my language.  That decision gives me full membership in the woos club.

Watch out!  They are everywhere!

The larger world of conversation also has its language traps.  "I couldn't care less" is often jumped on by the double negative watchdogs and changed into "I could care less,"  Should a blanket tag be marked as "flammable" or "inflammable"?  Does "media" always take a plural verb?  What exactly does the phrase "begs the question" mean?  Does "decimate" still have to refer to the destruction of only ten percent?  Pronunciation decisions also disturb our calm existence.  Do you pronounce the "p" in "comptroller"? 

And how about an adverb that often draws censure such as "hopefully" when it is used to refer to an entire sentence as in, "Hopefully, we won't be making so many mistakes in the future."? Would you feel comfortable saying that sentence?  If you have strong feelings one way or the other, you may want to listen to or read what an NPR commentator has to say about this topic at The Word 'Hopefully' Is Here To Stay, Hopefully.

One source I would recommend to quiet your grammar fears is Origins of the Specious:  Myths and Misconceptions of the English Language by Patricia T. O'Conner and Stewart Kellerman.  I can almost guarantee this book will make you relax a little if you are an uptight language user, and it will certainly bring a smile to your face.

Now, let's see. I've banished my language doubts.  What else is on my worry list for today?

  

Where do new words come from?

Do your ears perk up when you hear a new word?  Mine do.  I must admit to a fascination with creative uses of language. And the good news is that new words are coming into our language every day. I can stay well entertained by just listening to language used by many people in many different circumstances.

One source of new words is the use of eponyms, words that are based on a person's name or a place. A well known example is the word "sandwich" which originated with the Earl of Sandwich. (I believe the story goes that the Earl didn't want to quit the gaming table in order to eat, so he requested two pieces of bread with meat.) The word "sandwich" expanded from a proper noun into a common noun, written with a lower case letter.  It is now used for a wide variety of hand-held snacks involving bread and fillings.  The original noun has also become a verb, as in, "We sandwiched ourselves into the plane's tourist class section."

Another eponym that I find interesting is the word "guy," an informal word for a male, or nowadays., also an informal word for a group of males or males and females.  (Servers in several of our local restaurants refer to my husband and me as "you guys.")  The word "guy" derives from Guy Fawkes, a late 16th and 17th century conspirator in London, infamous for planning to blow up the British Parliament Building.  This event is commemorated yearly with bonfires and fireworks displays on Guy Fawkes day, November 5, which is coincidentally my birthday.  Thoughtful of the British Empire to plan a celebration for me!

An additional source of new words in English is the concept of "political correctness," also known as PC.  As changes occur in society, especially in regard to acceptance of differences in race, class, gender and sexual orientation, language changes as well. One of the newly created words is "herstory," which means that the history will be told from a feminist viewpoint.  Patricia T. O'Conner in Origins of the Specious: Myths and Misconception of the English Language explains that "herstory" isn't one of her favorite words, but she believes it is here to stay in our lexicon. She proves that the "his" in "history" is not the pronoun that refers to male beings, but that "history" come from a Latin word meaning "narrative." Her preference is for "history" to include information about both males and females.

There has been some backlash concerning the effects of political correctness on free speech.  Urban dictionary provides some PC circumlocutions used to avoid offending anyone.  Here are a few of the more amusing:

dishonest - ethically disoriented

wrong - differently logical

fired - laid off

tall - person of height

I remember feeling pressure in a university environment to use "Winter Break" instead of "Christmas."

The decision to adopt, ignore, or condemn the many new words that come into our language is certainly an individual decision.  But I sort of like to think of myself as "weight challenged" rather than "fat" when I step on those unforgiving scales in the mornings!