I taught English, over six years, at three different high schools, in two states. I wanted to teach US History, and Government, but I was advised to study English as a means of making myself more "marketable," as male History teachers were "a-dime-a-dozen," and men were under-represented in the Language Arts. I had considered working towards a degree in English, particularly towards the end of my Navy career, when I was tasked with typing-up the Personal Goals Lists for commissioned officers assigned to the Maintenance Department of Patrol Squadron 46 (VP-46, for those who know what that means). These were college graduates, with Bachelor's Degrees (and a few Master's), and their writing was terrible. I was "just" a high school grad, but I had seen better writing from junior high school students.
I admit, I've had a love for the language for a long time, decades before getting my degree in English. I have a high school English teacher to thank for helping me find it, a Mrs. Karen Newchock, who passed before I could tell her. It's a long story, maybe another post, but Mrs. Newchock once gave me an assignment to write weekly essays, any subject of my choice, for most of the first semester in my Junior year. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote; by Christmas, I was looking forward to writing during school vacation. I don't remember what I wrote about, precisely, the Vietnam War, sports, stuff at school, but I was allowed to editorialize, and express my opinions freely. Not once, during the entire time, did Karen Newchock criticize my opinion on any topic. She would, however, critique the qualities of argument, persuasion, descriptiveness, and overall presentation. In short, I learned to write. I had been a reader as long as I can remember, I admired those who were able to spin a yarn (Twain), and those who love to "play" with the language (Shakespeare).
I used to love George Carlin. His best performances came when he played with the words we used every day. His Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television, albeit slimmed down to perhaps three, still makes me laugh. Two-way Words, and Words You'll Never Hear Together are equally funny to me, because the "bits" make me think. Words...wonderful words...great words like callipygian (I dare you to work that one into conversation), and freedom. I used to tell my students that, when used properly, the English Language took on a music of it's own; that people who used words well held power. The power to persuade, humor, inform, testify, describe, and entertain others.
While on active duty, early in my career, I worked as an Instructor, in an office with a bunch of other Instructors of various subjects. There were cubicals, arranged by vessel/platforms, with an area cleared so we could all line-up for Quarters (muster, plan of the day, etc, for you civilians). In the center of this cleared area, a small table was set up, after Quarters, with a single item on it, a Word-a-Day calendar. Everyone in the office stopped each morning to "get the word," as well as people from other offices (our Department Head, for one) would stop by, read the word, and an unspoken competition began to thrive, "Who can properly use the word-of-the-day in conversation, a lesson, whatever. We had to have a wittness, who was in on the game, and whoever used the word first got to put his name on a small chalkboard outside the office. It remains one of my favorite memories of Fleet Combat Training Center, because I learned some great words.
It's shameful, but as a high school English teacher, I saw far too many students whose imaginations have become stunted. Unfortunately, due to a large degree of "image inundation," and an equally large degree of uninteresting books on district reading lists, young people struggle to "see" the images being described in literature. Everytime I assigned a book for reading, some student would ask "Is there a movie?" I hated that question, mostly because of the "artistic license" taken by screenwriters. An example: Lord of the Rings, in which characters were added and deleted in Peter Jackson's epic. What about "Tom Bombidill"? Where did "Arwen" come from? I used to put "Ace Busters" in quizzes, using answers from movie versions as incorrect answers. Most of them never caught on.
I really enjoy listening to people who speak the language well. James Earl Jones is my favorite all-time speaker. That man could read the phone book, and hold an audience spell-bound. Bill O'reilly is good, and even has a word-a-day thing at the end of The Factor. Orson Wells is one of my favorites, as is Gregory Peck. Melodious voices that lull you into the subject. You can understand why I don't watch ESPN, or Sportcenter, very much, very few athletes are what I would call "well spoken," Kareem Abdul Jabar, Boomer Esiason, Tim Duncan, and Larry Fitzgerald are very good, but the rest make Mark Twain a linguist in Huch Finn.
I had students tell me that previous teachers had told them to write-as-they-talk. I'd tell them, "For God's sake, don't do that." Listened to conversations between teenagers lately? I know, it's tough anymore, because you only hear half of the conversation (get it? Cell phones?), but you hear words you know used in the strangest ways. When did the word "fun" start being congegated as "fun, funner, funest"? I'm sorry, but I missed that memo. Some seemed to think that the letter "U" was a suitable substitute for the word "you," and failed to understand the difference. I always felt my primary duty, as a teacher, was to prepare my students to step into the workforce. Unfortunately, high schools only look at the number of graduates who go on to college. "Eighty-four percent of our students go on to college..." Yeah, how many of them stay past the first day, anyway? Having been an adult (40 to be exact, when I started) going to college, the attrition rate never failed to amaze me. On Day 1, the classrooms would be packed to the rafters, with students on waiting lists, trying to get a seat in the class. By the time one could no longer withdraw from a class without a grade, every single classroom had about 20 people who showed up regularly. Young people, on Mommy and Daddy's dime, don't care. I had a number of classes with a particular guy, at Chico State, and we used to try and figure out which of our classmates would stop coming. We usually got it right, too.
Now days, it's all about performance on high-stakes statewide testing. The STAR Test in California, it was ISAT in Idaho, but Idaho does it right. In Idaho, students take the ISAT twice yearly, in grades six through eleven. Twice a year, students gather in the Library, and other rooms, to sit down at a laptop, and take the ISAT. As students complete their testing, the answers are fed to a server, and downloaded in Boise. Within a week, teachers have the test results, the data broken down into the elements of the test, right in their hands. After the Fall testing period, classroom teachers are given individualized mini-lesson topics, possible whole-lesson activities, and some sage advice from a group of long-time teachers called TOSA's (Teachers On Special Assignment). TOSA's were still actively teaching classes, but were given two additional "Prep Periods" each day, to collaborate with teachers who needed, or asked for help. After the second, or Spring testing, cycle, I not only had test results, I had comparisons with the Fall cycle, indicating levels of student and overall class growth. I don't want to brag... OK, yes I do... My five freshman classes in Coeur d' Alene showed an overall growth of 2.8 percent, none of the other teachers had more than 1.75, and that was the Department Chair. I found out, in the end, I was just a "filler". The school wanted me back, but I wanted more than a one-year contract. The school was looking to have a place for an English teacher in Spokane, who lived in Coeur d' Alene, and happend to be the coach of the Washington State High School Girls Basketball Champions for the last five years. Hey, no decision. Hire some schmuck for a year, the coach retires in Washington, draws his pension, starts working on a second, and draws a head coach stipend. No problem. Hope he was everything you hoped for. But I'm not bitter...
I still love the language, though, and have returned to the Classics, Les Miserables, Dickens, Twain, among the many. I love the way that words are assembled to provoke thought. Just yesterday, while involved in the aforementioned Victor Hugo classic, ran across this little tidbit:
"The sage live content with little. Behold me, my son, I do not love pomp. Never am I seen with coats bedizend with gold and gems; I leave that false splendor to badly organised minds." Run that one around for a few.
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