Training the new gal is going well. I'm thrilled to be giving her more and more of my tasks, teaching her how to do them, and reviewing her work. There's something deeply satisfying to my teacher's soul (I may have decided against the red tape of an actual secondary education career, but I do plan on a professorship someday -- I love to teach) in passing on a torch of knowledge.
Today, reviewing a Will she had transcribed from Boss-Man's dictation, I was correcting general format-type thingummies when I noticed that fatal error which always rams a bit of a knife into my grammatical gut even though very few other people even care about it:
"...I give x to the Best Church of Ever for it's religious and charitable purposes..."
No. No. The insidious, the omnipresent, the never-ending battle of it's vs. its.
Immediately I called her back to my office, and, apologizing profusely for sounding patronizing, and explaining my English Ed background, I briefly sketched out the differences.
His car
Her car
Their car
I wrote these on a piece of paper, and said, "Okay, and now we'll say there's a car that belongs to a company, so..."
Its car
" 'Its' is possessive. It means something belongs to something else. When you use the possessive his, her and their, you don't use an apostrophe anywhere. So when you're using a possessive its, there's no apostrophe."
She nodded.
I went on. "'It's' is a contraction, an abbreviation of 'it is.' So, for example, you want to say, 'It is raining,' and you shorten it to, 'It's raining.' With an apostrophe."
She nodded again. I picked up the Will.
"Okay, now, right here, you're not saying you're giving anything to this church for 'it is religious and charitable purposes'; you're saying you're giving something to this church for the religious and charitable purposes belonging to it. Possessive. So, no apostrophe."
She smiled, nodded, and I apologized again. When she had left the office, I stared at the Will and seriously considered writing up a brief lesson for the Employee Handbook. I've left a legacy of two years' perfect grammar at the office, and I know that when I leave and my crown passes on, and on, and on, that kingdom will collapse. (That sounds SO arrogant, but my loyal readers will know what I mean.) Everything else will go on in more or less the same fashion as always, the copies, the letters, the faxes, the client calls, the appointments, the filing; but the grammar at that office will never be the same.
But that's the way it goes, and I'll take my legacy somewhere else. I looked at the clock right after she left, as it was nearing the end of the work day, and saw that my lesson had lasted about exactly three minutes. I have no idea if I went too quickly or not, but she seemed to comprehend. I hope so; otherwise I just sounded like a total and complete jerk. (But that particular mistake hurts me.)
I wonder if there's something to be made in three-minute lessons in English grammar.
I'm hopeless. (But I love it that way.)
7 comments:
It turns out there is something to be made in three-minute lessons in English grammar.
Unfortunately, someone else is already making it.
Of course, if you can come up with two-minute lessons on English grammar (much like "Seven-minute Abs"), you've got something...
dears s.
i thnk teh fatc that u luv gramer is for realz ahsum. You're love for the english lang. and everthing about it makes me laugh. It's really enjoyable.
PS. I'd buy a book called "Three Minute Grammer"
Curses! Foiled by Grammar Girl! (But good for her.) I'll have to take a tip from you and the Abs byte and reduce the time jusssst a leetle...
OR, I could offer MY three-minute grammer lessons personally! Like Dunder Mifflin!
Or I could offer my three-minute grammar lessons in the meanest, rudest manner possible -- like that restaurant where the servers treat you like crap. After all, I was an EVIL editor in college...like, Grammar According to Jadis (the head of the English Department once told me I'd make an excellent Jadis -- maybe I'll take that to heart).
ae -- the torment of the beginning of your comment is forgiven in light of your post script. :) You really twisted the knife with the misuse of "you're." (Ouch!!)
I understand your pain. I was also an editor and writing tutor in college. I even started writing a grammar column for the school newspaper for simple lessons like "that vs. which." It's tough work, but someone has to educate the ignorant masses. ;)
And if saving the world from breaking the laws of language must fall upon any shoulders, what better shoulders than ours?
And of course I'm ridiculously, offensively proud to claim as my native language one of the most recalcitrant, self-contradictory and nuanced languages ever invented and embellished by man. This has nothing to do with colonialism or oppression; I simply love the language. It's difficult to get to know, but when you know it, you KNOW it, and it's dazzling, this wonderful thing which snaps into place with your mind like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces, and it's so complex, so intricately woven, so many-faceted and deeply layered, so breathtakingly BEAUTIFUL...
Okay. I'm sitting here almost moved to tears. Did I say hopeless? I meant beyond all redemption. Fortunately salvation from my geekdom has never appeared on my "wants" list. The geeks are the ones who write, rewrite, propel and humanize humanity.
I'd buy a book called "Grammar According to Jadis."
Heck, I'd probably make it a required text in my writing classes.
I finally cemented the it's/its conundrum through reading Lemony Snicket.
Post a Comment