Does NE One Else Have a Problem with This?

It’s recently come to my attention that now, when conversing online, some folks are writing “ne one” instead of “anyone.”

Is this a time issue? Really? Because “anyone” doesn’t take long to write–indeed, “anyone” has only ONE MORE LETTER than “ne one.” Does this really free up a big chunk of your day?

“Ne one” doesn’t even look like “anyone.” I was just on Facebook when I came across one of my FB friends asking if “ne one” wanted to join her for a concert. It took me a good thirty seconds to figure out what the hell she meant.

Come on, folks.  Take the extra second to write out your words.

And if you’re so pressed for time that you can’t manage six letters–you’re clearly too busy to be wasting precious hours on Facebook.

How One “E” Can Make or Break You

At the end of every school year, students will often approach to ask if I might recommend them for Honors English.  This past June, in fact, I had two bright young ladies who were very deserving of–and very eager for–more advanced placement, and I was happy to tell their guidance counselor to move them into Honors in September.

One morning, as I was racing to get ready for class, I took a moment to e-mail the girls’ counselor.  I only had time for one sentence: “I’m sending this note to recommend these students for Honors English next year.”

At least, that’s what I meant to write. What I actually typed was, “I’m sending this not to recommend these students for Honors English next year.”  Yeesh. One letter left off of one word, and the entire meaning changes.

Luckily, I took a much-needed second to read over what I had written. Sure, the students would likely have ended up in Honors with or without that elusive “e,” but at the very least I saved myself from appearing incompetent.

The lesson here? Proofread, folks!

“Bear” Vs. “Bare”

Even English teachers need grammar help every now and then.

This morning, while working on a client’s website, I typed, “Our site is brand new, so please bear with us.” This was followed by a moment of grammatical panic. Had I just inadvertently written, “Please large-furry-land-animal with us”?  In this case, was bare the correct choice?

A little bit of web research quickly solved the controversy. Apparently, “Bare with me,” means, specifically, “Please get naked with me.” Bear, on the other hand–when not referring to the creature that inspired Winnie the Pooh and Paddington–comes from forbearance, which means postponement or patience.

So yes,”Please bear with us,” is grammatically correct. Another grammar crisis averted, thanks to the internet.

Now, please excuse me while I look up the spelling of “averted.”

If You Can Speak, You Can Write

At the beginning of each school year, the majority of my students make it clear that they hate, hate, HATE writing.

Of course, these same students need to be watched intently, lest they pull out their cell phones and text their friends in the next room. They can text a synopsis of their day more quickly than I can confiscate their phones, but ask them to write a sentence about what they did on their summer vacation and those fingers suddenly don’t move so fast.

Almost every day my students are asked to do a freewrite activity for about five minutes; in other words, they must fill at least nine lines with some kind of writing. I usually provide a question or topic to get them started, but they are  free to write about anything they want, the only stipulation being that they must fill up EVERY line. For this activity, I don’t count grammar or spelling–hell, I don’t care if they write nonsense words, as long as they write SOMETHING. Clearly put, this is a warm-up activity to get the creative juices flowing; also, it’s an easy “A.”

Despite the fact that they’d receive full credit for writing nine lines of  ”Blymfloggle crootlebop horsewhipper,” there are always two or three kids in every class who take zeros because they can’t be bothered to write anything. One young man I’ll call “Evan” used to walk into first period bright and early each morning and, almost without fail, stare blankly at the freewrite paper–also blank–until I had no choice but to collect it. Evan was an extremely bright and pleasant young man. He used to come in early, before the other students, and chat with me about what he did over the weekend, why he stayed up late playing video games, what hilarious thing is good friend said before class that morning, etc. There’s no question that Evan could talk—and quite intelligently. If he would have WRITTEN the things that ran through his head, the same things we’d often JUST TALKED ABOUT, he’d  have filled up nine lines every day, easily.

Evan is not alone. Many people speak well, but fall apart as soon as they try to put their thoughts on paper. Why? When we’ve gone to the trouble already of thinking of something to say, why is the final step of putting words down on paper so difficult for so many people?

Please remember, folks–if you can speak, you can write.