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Photo: Getty Images
Photo: Getty Images

SocietyMay 3, 2018

Does good grammar really matter?

Photo: Getty Images
Photo: Getty Images

The emphasis placed on formal written grammar in schools obscures the fact that English has many kinds of grammar – and they’re all equally valid, writes Waikato University senior lecturer in linguistics, Andreea Calude.

“But don’t you want your kids to get a job one day?”

There are almost 200 people in this room. It’s hard to believe that so many people want to come and listen to a talk on grammar and whether it matters. I get the distinct feeling many are dreading the awkward conclusion that after all is said and done, grammar does not really actually matter. But you are a mum, one will say. Don’t you want your kids to get a job one day?

The truth is that I have spent some ten years of my life thinking quite explicitly about grammar. I do not mean about ways of phrasing this or that. What I am talking about is sifting through language data, journal articles, and theory books about grammar, and trying to figure out when different formulations occur and why. Grammar has been quite literally my business for a good decade now.

So what have I learnt? And what would I want to teach my own kids about it?

Not one grammar, but many different grammars

When we talk about “grammar”, what we actually mean is “the grammar” and even more specifically, “the grammar of written language” as taught in schools. These distinctions are not made explicit; they remain hidden behind the veil of “proper English” and “a good education”.  To write properly is to write in the standard language form. To write otherwise is to show ignorance and a lack of status or intelligence.

Unbeknownst to many of us – I was already a third-year linguistics student myself before the penny dropped – there isn’t a single grammar out there, but multiple ones. I am not talking about the grammar of different, mutually unintelligible languages. I am talking about grammars of the same language. Like many languages, English has a grammar system used for speaking and a different – though largely overlapping one – used for writing.

There may be a standard grammar system used in formal language, such as in schools and universities, in legal documents, in certain media outlets, in non-fiction books, in high-brow newspapers, in research reports. And there might be a number of non-standard grammars used among family and friends, with local community members, by certain ethnic groups, in certain geographical regions.

As far as communicating itself goes, all these grammar systems are equal – they are equally beautiful, eloquent, logical and expressive. But socially, there is only one which holds the sceptre of social power: the grammar of standard written language. This social upper hand gives the grammar of written language prestige, and the capital to reign supreme over all others.

As soon as such a standard is born, suddenly all effort goes into mastering it. So much work is invested in acquiring this almighty powerful linguistic form that the grammars of other systems and their importance become overshadowed and ignored. Members of society show off their knowledge of the standard grammar of written language, like they would show off a fast sports car or an expensive house in a well-to-do neighbourhood. It becomes their passport onto the social ladder. So keen are some to show off their standard grammar that they sometimes overstep the mark and go further than the standard itself – a process linguist Bill Labov termed “hypercorrection” (the “try-hard” language user).

Photo: Pxhere.com

Speech and writing

The moment we equate “grammar” with “writing”, we forget that spoken language (or sign language for that matter) can also have a grammar, an internal consistency and structure of its own. Robbing spoken language of the privilege of having its own grammar means that writing becomes the yardstick by which we measure all others.

We assume that deviations from written grammar constitute the dirty little secret of speech and of other language varieties. These deviations are instantly labelled “bad”, “ignorant”, “uneducated”, “illogical”, kicking speech (or signing) further down the hierarchy of language status.

But how many of us learn to write before we learn to speak or sign? Speaking (or signing) is always primary (and necessary). Speaking is so natural that we do not even give it a second thought. Once acquisition is completed, we disregard it altogether like we do walking. How many times have you been congratulated on how well you are walking today?

Imagine what communication might be like if we all sounded like standard, formal writing. It would take some time for us to figure out what the main message is. Then, once parsed, we would need to have a think about how to formulate an appropriate response. Communication would become much slower, much denser, and not at all viable in real time. Language is adapted for speaking and for good reason!

The grammar of insiders

The same can be said for grammars of non-standard varieties of language. Take Māori English for example. To date, there is still surprisingly little known about this variety (or possibly group of varieties), but one feature which we think is rather characteristic of Māori English is the highly frequent use of the tag “eh” (it’s about time we get to know this variety eh). While other varieties use it too, Māori English just can’t get enough of it.

It has been suggested that “eh” is a bonding particle, a way to include the person addressed into the conversation and acknowledge their involvement. This preoccupation with inclusiveness is not atypical of non-Western varieties and it is a way of consolidating relationships, like a social glue.

There is no quicker way to become part of a community than to use the local forms of communication. Just as acquiring some German can be helpful in forming a relationship with locals in Germany, if you’re not Māori yourself then dropping in extra “eh”s may be a good way of gaining access to your local Māori English community.

The grammar of outsiders

What the grammar of standard written language can do for a speaker or a writer is very different. Using this form of language can allow one to communicate with people who are not part of their local community. Standard varieties act like ‘lingua franca’s across communities of speakers who still use the same language, but frequent different social networks, different geographical regions, or cross the divide of different social classes.

Viewed from this perspective, one might say that the grammar of standard written language is a bit like “the grammar of outsiders”. Handy? Yes! Better? No.

But don’t you want your kids to get a job one day?

If different language varieties are all legit, and we are all to become metaphorical grammar-hugger hippies, won’t language and grammar descend into a free-for-all, anything goes sort of chaos? No at all.

Speakers of English can easily spot when something is not part of the grammar of English (for the most part). A sentence like “There shoes the put I” is most definitely ungrammatical in all varieties of English, Māori English, Pākehā English, the Southern dialect of NZ English, and so on. What makes the other grammars distinct from purely ungrammatical use is the consistency in use of various expressions. This consistency is what helps form the regularity in the system (the patterns) and thus the vehicle which helps to guide the transfer of meaning.

Grammar does matter! The importance of studying and grasping grammar cannot be understated. Today, we know more about grammar and about how different grammatical systems work than we have done in the past, and so there is more grammar to teach and learn than ever.

So here is what I would tell my own kids. Their ‘home grammar’ (be it spoken English, Pasifika English, Māori English, and so on) is not wrong, any more than speaking another language is wrong – and we know speaking multiple languages can only be a good thing. All these systems are linguistically valid, but the contexts in which they are used matter enormously. Becoming a skilled communicator involves learning how to navigate these grammars and knowing how to use them in their appropriate contexts.

And then, hopefully, they can appreciate that getting a job may involve using standard formal written grammar. But actually doing the job may require them to use a larger repertoire than that!

Andreea S. Calude is a senior lecturer in linguistics at the University of Waikato.


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alex01

SocietyMay 3, 2018

Undies, roast chickens, and lots of sex: Horror stories from NZ cinemas

alex01

After a cinema in Hawera banned patrons wearing pyjamas last week, ex-cinema attendant Alex Casey shines a light on much grosser stories from the back row of theatres around the country.

First published May 2018.

Something extremely weird happens to people inside a cinema. Maybe it’s the enveloping womb-like darkness that reverts grown adults to the spilling and crapping of infancy. Perhaps it’s the transportive nature of film that inspires people to eat an entire roast chicken and take their knickers off. Maybe it’s simply that most people are just managing to keep their shit together between each exciting blockbuster experience, purchasing a ticket simply to unleash hell on whatever innocent usher is on the closing shift that night.

Following the crucial global news last week, published on both The BBC and The Guardian, that a cinema in Hawera has banned their patrons from wearing pyjamas, a little part of me had to scoff. If three years working in a cinema taught me anything, it’s that a) yes, a man with a ponytail can indeed watch Vicky Cristina Barcelona 22 times and b) people wearing pyjamas are literally the least of your worries. Along with the blanket brigade and the slipper squadron, they are the chilled out customers. It’s basically everyone else that’s the problem.

Following this hunch, I asked some of my old workmates, as well as the intricate network of ex and current cinema attendant nerds known as ‘Twitter’, if they felt the same way about cinema clientele. I was inundated with stories. Horrible, horrible stories. Just like a pile of toenails neatly stacked on a cinema seat, I have gingerly picked through the detritus and assembled them in the following chronicle of horrors. You should all be ashamed of yourselves.

PEOPLE HAVING SEX

It’s the big one. The big S-E-X. The ol’ Sex, Lies and Videotape. It’s happening in cinemas around the country, and it’s happening during films you might not expect. Many people got in touch with tales of interrupting people mid-cinema coitus, during everything from the Nicolas Cage vehicle Next to Surf’s Up, a children’s film about a surfing penguin. One patron recalled being at a session of Species when the couple behind him “started really going at it.” He presumes it was Forest Whitaker that got them hot under the collar but added that “it didn’t last very long.” Related content: a pair of woman’s underwear – “the fancy type” – was once found by an usher after a session of Horton Hears a Who.

Confirmed aphrodisiacs

PEOPLE PROJECTILE VOMITING

Look, I’m the first one to put my hand up and say I have power chucked in a cinema. It was in the 3D version of Titanic, and I had just eaten a roast pumpkin salad that I knew full well was about a week old. But at least I was able to make it to the bin.

Others have not been so lucky, and the ushers even worse off. Like the poor soul who worked during a session of Dark Horse, which featured a relatively heavy nosebleed scene. “I guess this customer was particularly averse to blood, because they projectile vomited all over the carpet. What followed was us discreetly trying to clean it up while the film played, because it smelt a lot.”

Elsewhere, a teenager hellbent on “Robo-tripping” – chugging a whole bottle of Robotussin to hallucinate – wrecked an Upper Hutt cinema bathroom halfway through a session of Alice in Wonderland. “He calmly walked out of the theatre, entered the men’s bathroom and power chucked bright pink goop all over the walls, floors, urinals, and sinks, then tried to clean it up with his hoodie.”

A similar hue ascended over what one ex-usher described as ‘The Shrek-tastic summer of 2001″, where novelty Shrek ears were sold alongside dangerously large combos for kids. “I am haunted by cleaning up red-Fanta-and-popcorn-spew to Smashmouth.”

PEOPLE DOING WORSE THAN PROJECTILE VOMITING

Light a candle and say a prayer, because things are about to get even more grim. “And then there was the man who just shat all over the cinema,” a brave veteran recalled in one of several ‘code brown’ stories submitted. Much like Robocop from Upper Hutt, one gentleman in Auckland destroyed a theatre toilet – walls, floor and sink – before treading it into the cinema without telling anyone.

“It must have been all over his hands and feet. We had to sponge the seats and carpet where they had been sitting. That was a low point.”

And if you are about to call a priest right now, maybe redirect that call straight to the police. “Once I had to empty and clean a cup holder full of (presumably human) blood after a screening of Public Enemies. I don’t have any more information on how it got filled with blood.”

PEOPLE BINGEING, BOOZING AND SMOKING LIKE FIENDS

Popcorn is over. Just ask the guy who tried to bring a whole Hell’s pizza into an intimate arthouse cinema. Choc tops are over. Just ask the person who ate a rotisserie chicken and a watermelon during a screening of Fight Club. Alcohol laws are over. Just ask the guy who brought a dozen beers into a kids film and left all the empties on the floor. Smoking laws are over. Just ask the guy who lit up a cigarette during the English Patient and caused the whole complex to be evacuated.

PEOPLE LEAVING BEHIND THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES

It’s probably for the best that I just list this inventory of things that have been left behind in cinemas across New Zealand.

  • Used nappies
  • A drawing of a snake
  • Chocolate peanuts with the chocolate sucked off
  • A bottle of warm yellow liquid
  • Nail clippings x 100
  • Used sanitary pads
  • One shoe
  • Undies x 100
  • Leaves
  • A puddle of yoghurt
  • False teeth

All in all, I think we can agree that cinema-goers are mostly stink rats from the sewers of hell. And let’s not even get into the things that happen outside of the actual cinema, like the customer who watched two and a half hours of The Life of Pi and then complained that it wasn’t Les Miserables, or the two stoned men caught dismantling the ceiling of a theatre lift. One current working cinema attendant put it best when they concluded that “cinemas are wild and truly lawless places”. Forget about banning pyjamas, I think it’s time we seriously considered banning people.


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