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September 2015

Analyzing Kevin’s New Way of Speaking

As a linguistics enthusiast, it’s no surprise that my all time favorite moment from The Office is when the endearing resident dunce Kevin creates a new way of speaking in order to “save time.” Through forgoing articles, plural markers, and verb inflections (not to mention replacing “I” and “my” with “me”), Kevin’s “more efficient” way of speaking alienates him from his coworkers and actually obscures his intended meaning. I have two nerdy observations about Kevin’s new language to share, but first, watch this and prepare to laugh:

Observation #1: Grammar matters!

Whenever I watch this video, I want to show it to my ESL students to show how integral grammar can be in constructing meaning. Many of my students come from backgrounds where grammar was pounded into them as a body of knowledge to be memorized, but not so much as a tool to create meaning. The last thing I want to do is inhibit my students from communicating for fear of making a grammatical mistake, but I think the example of Kevin is a great way to illustrate just how important it is to master those pesky articles and verb tenses.

In Kevin’s attempt to tell his coworkers what he was going to do with all his extra time, the lack of article usage in his new way of speaking made it unclear whether he wanted to see the world, or go to Sea World. The articles a, an, and the can be difficult for many ESL students to master because their native language lacks this grammatical category. However, this does not mean that their respective languages don’t express the meaning denoted by English articles. Their languages just do it in different ways.

When speaking English though, articles are an integral part of expressing meaning. Although it may seem like it would save time to ignore the intricacies of English grammar, just like Kevin found out, in the long run it might actually take more of your time and energy to express your meaning.

Secondly, although I’m a descriptivist at heart, the blunt truth is that grammar has social implications, especially in an educational setting. Although most professors at an American university wouldn’t question if a student needed to be hospitalized due to poor grammar, poor grammar can have a negative effect on a student’s academic experience in a university setting. With all the presentations that need to be given, papers that need to be written, and professors that need to be talked to, good grammar is key in achieving success in college. So although I don’t want my students to fear making grammatical mistakes, I also want to encourage them to improve their grammar so they can improve their college experience.

Observation #2: But Kevin’s language actually has its own grammar…

One of the first questions I had after watching Kevin’s new way of speaking was if it actually had consistent grammatical rules. If so, I wondered if it was similar to pidgin languages. A pidgin language is a significantly simplified language constructed between two people groups in order to communicate. It is a sort of makeshift language until a second generation picks it up as its first language, after which it is known as a creole. (http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/~haroldfs/messeas/handouts/pjcreol/node1.html)

The interesting thing about pidgins and creoles is that although they are grammatically simplified, they are consistent in their grammatical rules. According to Harold Schiffman, pidgins/creoles have the following grammatical characteristics:

“1. Has limited vocabulary, simplified grammar (e.g. no PNG, no gender, no plural marking, no agreement (e.g. `one man come; two man come; three man go yesterday’)

  1. Often has aspect instead of tense; marked with particles instead of affixation.
  2. Very little redundency[sic]; as simple as can be.”

To make a long story short, Kevin’s consistency with lack of verb inflections and plural markers does show some similarities to a pidgin. However, the fact that he is not simplifying language in order to communicate with speakers of another language makes his speech, as Andy says, “the linguistic equivalent of wearing underpants.”

No matter though, because our lovable underdog Kevin has plans to prove that his linguistic ingenuity will make America greater than Donald Trump ever could.

tumblr_nsy4wnNd5E1us3bdso1_500  (wifflegif.com)

Malone for 2016? Anyone?

Layers

The mystery of layers: it has haunted in that awkward place between thought and words since I became older than I ever imagined I could be, marinating in a mixture of memories and color.

The layers are becoming too thick to bear, scratchy as an old wool sweater. Year by year, the stories pile, nestle themselves on top of each other, enveloping me with heat.

Sometimes the layers make a kind of macrocosmic sense; the camera pans out, and my cord in the tapestry of God’s faithfulness is illuminated by a sunset cast in the right light or by a moment of starry clarity in a vivid, lonely contentment.

But lately, the layers climb higher and higher until I feel trapped in my own story and the stories that have built it; I grasp at photographs and memories of vivid, lonely contentment on a road that I loved and hated for 10 years, then 9 months.

Is there a limit to the stories we can bear? Is it possible for the memories to usurp the joy of the mundane, and if so, can they somehow still be held as dear without anchoring us to the past?

To repeat the same stories again and again shows how tightly I hold the experiences as markers of identity: getting stitched up by Konstantine the Dentist, escaping the kiss from the Russian soldier on the train, discovering Eden, falling in love with a place and people in a Narnia-like journey 12 years ago…I play these stories on repeat, identifying with the past, bathing in the past until I prune up, because maybe the future scares me a little more than I know.

Alyosha Karamazov once told a group of boys emerging into manhood that one of the most vital things they could do was to remember one good memory from childhood. I’ve always found this ending to The Brothers Karamazov to be anticlimactic, disappointing. But as the years write layers thicker and thicker and the road winds more unexpected than my child self could envision, I nod at Alyosha in understanding. When the future stands over you with a smirk, the past can be a warm hand to hold.

But with the looking back comes the human tendency to dis-member then re-member the past into one where He was not faithful. And if He was then, then His character has rapidly changed in light of the layers that I certainly did not choose.

Bluntness: when I don’t get my way, my heart is revealed as a muscle that pumps disbelief.

Question set number two: how can I re-member the memories that I so often dis-member? How can I love Him more than I love my own little story? How can I skydive trustfully into the future instead of pacing within the confines of a stale old temper tantrum?

The questions remain.

The answers are there, age old and simple, yet as hard to submit to as they were for Abraham, Sarah, Naomi, Job, David and the whole cloud of witnesses.

The answers are there, the Answer is there, waiting with open arms to be the constant I have sought in the files of my own identity. So in a conclusion of the heart, I say that I submit, but that I also know I will have to re-submit by hour, by minute. To unclench my fists and breathe in the next unexpected, beautiful layer.

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