Somewhere along the way I seem to have developed a fondness for Professor Henry Higgins of “My Fair Lady” fame. You remember he was the fellow who made a bet that he could transform Eliza Doolittle, the cockney flower seller, into a charming lady by teaching her correct diction. The movie was based on George Bernard Shaw’s play, “Pygmalion.” The experiment worked with unexpected ramifications.
I thought of that play again recently when among my plethora of junk mail I found a petition and letter requesting a donation to help lobby for legislation to make English our official language.
The “Official English” proponents may have missed their opportunity. There are now so many Spanish-speaking immigrants in this country that I doubt any politician would dare to court their wrath.
Actually, I do believe in learning more than one language. I took Spanish and French in school, and I enjoyed the subjects. I advocated for the teaching of a foreign language in our city grade schools, when children learn languages naturally and more easily. It was a lost cause. School officials told me they would be happy to offer it, but competent teachers were in short supply. That situation may have changed now. Its need was not pressing, either; we did not have to change languages locally if we went to Alabama or Tennessee, for instance. The incentive was not acute. However, I also believe having one language for a country is far more efficient than not.
Finding enough competent teachers may still be a problem, and teaching grammatically correct language may be a greater one. English, of course, is required in our schools, and I expect nearly all of its teachers are competent. But somehow they are not getting through to everybody. The job may be just too big. We speak the way people around us speak; and, my gosh, sometimes that is awful!
I know I make mistakes, but I have heard far too many people who should know better, make a mess of our language. Most problems seem to be with the objective case. People just can’t believe it is incorrect to say, “For my wife and I.” They seem to fear “me” is a dirty word. (If I were speaking instead of writing, that would come out funny, wouldn’t it?) I have heard a president of the United States and a wing commander at the Columbus Air Base use that phrase incorrectly. There are many others.
It is dangerous territory to point out other people’s mistakes; I might make one in the next sentence. Yet, once upon a time, we really tried. When I went to what was then MSCW, we were required to pass an English proficiency exam in order to graduate. I wonder if that is required any more. I doubt it. They probably could not support the institution financially if it were. Not long ago I heard a student body president pronounce an invocation after a banquet buffet honoring a nationally famous writer. In the presence of this wordsmith he thanked God for the “delicious food which we have ate.” I cringed. I wondered if other people did, too. Maybe we are a shrinking minority. Correct usage does not seem to be a requirement for national newscasters, either.
I am just old-fashioned. I am also my mother’s daughter. During part of her lifetime, someone on The Dispatch staff (my newspaper!) repeatedly wrote in the “society” column that someone “motored” to a nearby city where she “staid” with so-and-so. My mother always clipped the column, corrected the “staid” to “stayed” in red ink, and mailed it back. No copy writer paid the least attention. That was years ago.
Actually, I guess it don’t make me no ne’er mind how I gets my, like, idea across. The main thing is that I gets it said. Well, that there is jus whut I am a-trying to do. So I done said it, and, like, I guess that’s that.
Betty Boyls Stone is a freelance writer, who grew up in and lives in Columbus.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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