When
I was learning to write essays in high school English classes in the middle
1960’s, I used a typewriter. If I made a mistake, I remember having to retype
the entire page of my essay.
Whiteout hadn’t been invented yet, and “word processor” was a term that
would have been applied, if it were used at all, to an electric typewriter.
For
each of the four English classes I took at the private boys’ boarding school I
attended, I was required to purchase the designated hardcover copy of Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition. In one of those courses, the teacher
would highlight any grammatical mistakes his students made by simply noting the
page number and the number of the rule that particular student had violated in
the left-hand margin of the essay.
For instance, if Jerome used a semi-colon incorrectly, he would find
“238.12a” scrawled in the margin, and he was supposed to turn to page 238 in his
text and read the following: “12a. Use a semi-colon between independent clauses not joined by and, but,
or, nor, for, yet or so.” Propping
his Warriner’s open with one hand, Jerome would then dutifully copy the rule
out five times in longhand on the back of the page where the transgression had occurred.
When
I graduated from college in 1971 with a B.A. in English, I took a job working
at a furniture mill in southern Massachusetts, gluing pieces of planed pine
together for what eventually would become tabletops. Having grown up at another larger, more prestigious boys’
boarding school than the one I attended and having spent far too many of my
twenty-two years living in a dormitory, I decided I had had enough of
education. I wanted to experience something different.
Over
the next seven years I would move from Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire, where I had
been living while I worked in the furniture mill, to a subsistence farm in
China, Maine, to an apartment over a real estate office in Manchester, Vermont,
back to Massachusetts, back to Maine and finally back to Fitzwilliam, New
Hampshire, working variously as a farm hand, a carpenter’s helper, a house
painter, a finisher in a cabinet maker’s shop, a deliveryman for a florist, and
finally as an auctioneer’s assistant.
Along
the way I got my teaching certificate in secondary English from Keene State
College, and in the winter of 1977, I began applying for teaching jobs to any
private school in New England that would have me. I readily accepted an offer from one of the two schools that
would and began preparing for the first, full-time job of my life.
Not
surprisingly, one of the first books I ordered for myself was Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition: Complete
Course. The head of the
English Department had mentioned that I would be responsible for covering a
certain amount of grammar in each of my classes, using, of course, a Warriner’s
workbook. I figured I had better refresh my memory.
Thirty-four
years later, looking back on my career, I realize that teaching grammar has not
only been one of my strengths as an English teacher, but ironically enough, given
my early exposure, one of my greatest joys.
During
my first few years in the classroom, I quickly realized that to teach the
amount of grammar and usage a student should master would take up far too much
class time and would also bore me and my students to death. I decided to focus on parts of speech,
parts of a sentence, phrases and clauses, administered, like caster oil, one
spoonful at a time in separate doses. To disguise the medicinal taste, I
abandoned Warriner’s, creating my own highlight sheets and my own exercises.
My
highlight sheets have always been pretty standard. How entertaining can one be in defining an appositive phrase
after all? Grammatical exercises
are an entirely different matter.
First off, I decided to connect the sentences in each of my exercises so
as to create a storyline, not about some historically significant incident like
the Battle of Hampton Roads where the CSS
Virginia (a.k.a. USS Merrimac) and the USS Monitor, two lumbering, turtle-like, ironclads, fought each
other to a draw in March of 1862.
In fact, I refused to enrich
my students’ minds with any information that my friends in the
history department might regard as significant. Instead I wanted to make my students (and myself) laugh, or
at least chuckle.
So here's an example ...
Four Parts of Speech
Above each underlined word, indicate whether it is a noun, pronoun, adjective, or verb by writing the following abbreviations: noun (n.), pronoun (pron.), adjective (adj.), or verb (v.).
This exercise is based on events reported to me by my neighbors.
1. One day in late November, a wild turkey appeared in our neighbor’s back
yard.
2. It must have been looking for food, either birdseed from the many
birdfeeders located near the house or dry cat food from the bowl sitting on
the deck.
3. A large gray neighborhood cat sat watching the turkey from the deck.
4. He had never seen something like this before, and he imagined that the
gawky creature with its red wattles, long neck and bony legs must be some
sort of threat to his safety.
5. Suddenly he leaped onto the turkey’s back, and the bird started spinning
around the yard like some demented ballerina.
6. Eventually the cat, whose name was Smokey, went flying off of the
turkey’s back and landed in a heap on the ground.
7. The terrified turkey staggered into the nearby woods and disappeared
from sight.
8. Smokey picked himself up off of the frozen ground and sauntered back
onto the deck where he sat quietly waiting for something else exciting to
occur.
9. When nothing happened, he took a long drink of cool water, chewed on a
mouthful of food from the bowl, curled himself up in a ball, and went fast
asleep.