Texas teacher’s writing

If you haven’t seen the short clip of a Texas high-school student asking/telling his teacher to teach instead of handing out “packets”: watch.

Here, verbatim, is text from that teacher’s school webpage:

A man's reach should always exceed his grasp...Robt. Browning

Welcome to World History and Asian American Studies!  
As we go thru the year; you will discover alot of new things you never knew about not only about the world but the mysterious continent of Asia.  As you can see - I got to visit Great Wall of China  during the summer of 2011 as well as many other sights in China and Japan!

As I said ...a man's reach (or a woman's ;), should always exceed their grasp!  I meant it...and I want you to also!

Basic writing skills should never exceed a teacher’s grasp. How did this teacher ever make it into the classroom? Would you be happy knowing that she was teaching your child?

[The lines from Robert Browning’s “Andrea del Sarto”: “Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, / Or what's a heaven for?” I used non-breaking spaces to reproduce the two spaces after the exclamation point, the periods, and the first China.]

Route 66 mystery guest

The character is sobering up, or refusing to. If you are a television viewer of a certain age, you have most likely seen this actress, many times. But do you recognize her here? I didn’t.

If you know, or think you do, leave your answer in the comments. (Why not?)

*

3:34 p.m.: The answer’s now in the comments.

Related reading
Other Route 66 posts (Pinboard)

Cheating at Barnard

Now in the news: a cheating scandal at Barnard College. As one commenter writes, “Cheating on a weekly reading quiz?? Are you kidding me?!”

Here is the difficulty in defending a traditional understanding of “college”: if all a course amounts to is a single two- to three-page paper and weekly quizzes on “basic poem identifications,” quizzes that the students themselves grade, what’s to defend?

[For those who do not recognize the name, Barnard College, affiliated with Columbia University, is one of the Seven Sisters.]

Recently updated

Farewell, 45 West 53rd A possible reprieve for New York’s American Folk Art Museum.

The Thompson twins

 
[Mark Trail, May 8 and 9, 2013.]

It’s common knowledge that Mark Trail reuses plots and artwork from old strips. It’s the American way: Use it up — wear it out — make it do! With today’s strip, “old” means “day-old.” Yesterday’s Wes Thompson is today’s Wes Thompson, reversed and tilted and combed. (May 8: stray lock of hair on forehead.)

Related reading
Other Mark Trail posts (Pinboard)

[Addicted? I can quit anytime.]

Words I can live without

I’ll name one: pedagogy. Its three possible pronunciations make it a stumbling block: with so many choices, whatever one chooses feels wrong. But look past the surface ugliness: pedagogy is ugly to the bone. The word derives from pedagogue: “A schoolmaster, a teacher; esp. a strict, dogmatic, or pedantic one.” In ancient Greece, the pedagogue, or παιδαγωγός , was “a slave who took children to and from school.” We can do better than a word that associates teaching with dogma, pedantry, and servitude. It is telling that Merriam-Webster illustrates the word’s use with this sentence from Alex Ross: “Some of the presentations, a few too many for comfort, lapsed into the familiar contortions of modern pedagogy.”

The Oxford English Dictionary definition of pedagogy
contains an apt alternative: “The art, occupation, or practice of teaching.” Where others speak of pedagogy, I prefer to speak of the art of teaching. Not best practices, not instruction delivery, not methods, not a science or a system, but an art, whose exercise requires compassion, intuition, and wit.

Worse than pedagogy are its evil relations pedagogical and pedagogically. The adjective and adverb are often superfluous: if one is speaking about teaching, it’s not necessary to describe a practice or strategy as pedagogically useful, no more than it would be to describe an element in a building’s design as architecturally useful. Pedagogy, pedagogical, pedagogically, good riddance.

More words I can live without
A 2009 list (Bluesy, craft as a verb, &c.)
A 2012 list (Delve, -flecked, &c.)
“Some Enchanted Evening” (Words never to use in a poem)
That said, (Yes, I crossed it out.)

[All quotations from the Oxford English Dictionary except as noted.]

Help for DARE

The Dictionary of American Regional English must be feelin’ its keepin’, having received two major donations (and many more smaller ones) in recent weeks. Context here.

How to improve writing (no. 44)

[Mark Trail, May 8, 2013.]

When Mark Trail and Wes Thompson went off in a plane to “look at sheep,” leaving “the girls” (Mark’s wife Cherry, Wes’s wife Shelley) alone at camp, trouble was sure to follow. Trouble, one might say, was in the air : the plane crashed, and Mark and Wes have been stuck in the mountains for many days’ worth of comics.

Trouble is also in this panel’s dialogue, in the form of the clunky however that begins Wes’s sentence. In The Elements of Style, Strunk and White offer good advice: “Avoid starting a sentence with however when the meaning is ‘nevertheless.’ The word usually serves better when not in first position.” That sounds like a matter of style. But Strunk and White then confuse matters by seeming to suggest a prohibition: “When however comes first, it means ‘in whatever way’ or ‘to whatever extent.’”

Bryan Garner’s Garner’s Modern American Usage takes up however with greater clarity:

It seems everyone has heard that sentences should not begin with this word — not, that is, when a contrast is intended. But doing so isn't a grammatical error; it’s merely a stylistic lapse, the word But or Yet ordinarily being much preferable. . . . The reason is that However — three syllables followed by a comma — is a ponderous way of introducing a contrast, and it leads to unemphatic sentences.

And re: today’s Mark Trail, I’d add that no one talks like that, especially not with a broken foot. I have revised the panel to eliminate the ponderous however and add a bit more drama:


[Mark Trail revised, May 8, 2013.]

How I wish I could travel back to student days and remove howevers from the beginnings of my sentences. But it’s what I was taught as an element of intelligent writing: independent clause – semicolon – conjunctive adverb, any conjunctive adverb – comma – independent clause. O ponderousness!

“Let’s go,” by the way, is an instance of the hortatory subjunctive.

Related reading
Other How to improve writing posts
Other Mark Trail posts

[This post is no. 44 in a series, “How to improve writing,” dedicated to improving stray bits of public prose. Cherry made tea this past Monday.]

Spellings of the future

A spelling of the future is a misspelling so strange that it must be traveling backward in time to give us a foretaste of our language’s evolution. Today’s spelling of tomorrow, or vice versa:



A sample sentence: Yes, we have now bananas.

I have seen now for no three times in recent months. If now for no is a typo, it’s a mighty strange one. I think that the sound of know explains now.

Other spellings of the future
Aww : Bard-wired fence

Some more rocks

[“Seek and Ye Shall Mind,” Zippy, May 7, 2013.]

Sunday: Proust. Monday: some rocks. And today: some more rocks. Some rocks + some more rocks = really many rocks. But Zerbina’s rocks may be the very rocks Zippy was looking at yesterday, in which case they remain “some rocks.”