Diagraming Linguistic Dysfunction

When was the last time you actually dissected a sentence and did the complete diagram of each word? Me? Sophomore year of High School. Aside from that, my only other opportunities have been in helping struggling high school students as a tutor. Other than a brief explanation of sentence structure in late elementary school and again sometime in highschool, I assert that it has no place in the teaching of basic to mid-level reading and writing.

At this point, most academics have probably turned the channel or are now reading in a hyper-sensitive defensive posture, but hear out my point.

Let's face facts, most American students are poor writers and mediocre readers. They will not become teachers, journalists, or novelists. So, when faced with the finer points of linguist grammar, they are forced against an insurmountable wall. Consequently, they begin to see writing as an abstract process and give up on improving on the knowledge and skills they already have.

American schools have been putting the cart before the horse for some time. We need to focus on producing functionally literate readers and then writers. What's the point of making them graph sentences and dissect participles, if they are dysfunctional in basic phonics and language. All of the sciences, with the possible exception of basic math, are based on the reading and comprehension of other's writing of ideas. How then, can we expect our students to excel if they don't understand how to read those ideas?

Further, people learn by imitation. Doesn't is then stand to reason that students learn to write by reading others' writings? Perhaps, the current dysfunction we see in students is not so much a comment on their abilities, but rather a damning conviction of their scholarly upbringing.

If Only She Could Find the Map

Her arms seem to bend in unnatural ways. In proportion to her body weight, her arms do seem too long for her frame. They have no definable muscle structure anymore, but somehow can still pick up a cup of coffee and gesture this way and that as she talks about the wonderful trip she's taking in her car (if only she could find the map that seems to be wedged under her emaciated frame).

In younger days, her legs carried her wherever she wanted to go, but now they are of no use and offer only a harbor for sores and scrapes which inevitably get infected and eat at what little flesh she has left. They are to her what fleas are to a dog, parasites that carry disease and leech energy from the rest of her body that still functions.

As we move her from place to place in the bed, in the never ending and ultimately terminal process of wound care, she grimaces, brought back momentarily to the present reality by the pain, but maintains a stoiclly smiling outlook on her situation. With each apology from the staff for the necessary and temporary pain of repositioning, she simply and softly says that all is "necessary and unavoidable" at her stage in life. Shortly after we're done, she returns to the great out-doors and the trip that seems so enjoyable... if only she could find the map.

I wonder when she will find that map and make it home, walk in the door, drink a cup of coffee, and close the door on the rest of us.

Working at the Church

Working on projects at Grace Fellowship Church (GFC) have a peculiarity all their own. It usually means that no one else has volunteered to do the job.

It used to bother me that certain things never got done or seemed to languish in disrepair at the church, but then it occurred to me that no one else has the same view of the place as I do. I don't mean to infer that I alone have a singular vision for the church facilities that no one else can measure up to. Instead, no one has been either engaged or married to the defacto church/camp cook for over thirteen years. So, when I see that the steel pot-rack is rusting and flaking onto the large central cutting board in the upstairs kitchen, I assume that it should be (not just repainted) sandblasted and given several coats of good quality glossy black paint, not forgetting to quiz the local office ladies and the cleaning woman about the astetics of chrome chain hangers vs. matching black ones... and then painting the chain to match.

Perhaps, that has been one of the major problems with jobs around the GFC lodge. With only a few people involved previously with the day-to-day activities of the church, naturally, only a few had a special view of needs and could literally see them. Further, even if they could see the problems, they didn't have "ownership" of the building and processes built into their consciousness enough to feel empowered to fix them.

Having grown up in GFC, I have a paticular view about this place that most who come later in their lives and become members don't have; this is a second home to me. It's a place I've grown spiritually, but also mentaly and physically. It's a part of my permanent life memories and, as such, I know how it works. I've become a doer at GFC.

A Question of Etiquette

How should one address another on July 4th?

Should one insert the holiday into the normal phrase, such as, "Happy July Fourth," or should it be more informative (in order to assert one's knowledge of the occation) such as, "Happy Independance-Day."

Another possible problem; the issue of independance varies between ethnic groups. One's independance day may not be anothers'. American Indians, African Americans, Japanese Americans (WWII), etc. In which case, the phrase "independance-day" may even be offensive. In which case, one might need to say, "Happy American Revolution Day," or "Happy Exuberant American Patriotism Day"... but that's a mouth full.

I've decided to be vague. Now, when I see a person on the street who is looking especially festive, I'll just say, "Happy Fourth" and assume they get it.

Hospital Work

Tonight is slow and wants for something to do. It lingers all too long and unwanted within the confinds of my shift.

Perhaps I could clean, but I did that yesterday, which was much the same as tonight. I could finish the busy work that my supervisor lists for short episodes of bordome, but the previous shift already did it, seeming to be simalerly afflicted as myself. They could just send me home, but "what if."

I am here for two reasons: to do work and to be ready to do work when needed. Right now... I'm waiting to do work, even if I'm not needed yet.