In Their Words

My classmates and I were early in elementary school, say second grade, when Pat would read to us out of the big yellow book of stories. The book, D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths, offered up fantastical epics fit for our inexhaustibly curiosity. I remember Pat’s precise, pointed diction bringing Perseus and Andromeda to life: this was no anemic reading. Whatever values we derived from legends of bloody heroism, hubris, greed, and revenge, I can’t say. I can say that we, the audience, were held to high standards of English language usage in our white-knuckled, shaky-voiced questions during and after the telling. My friend would raise her hand and ask, let’s say, “Pat, why did Andromeda’s Dad, like, chain her to the rock!?” Pat’s reply was swift: “Do you mean ‘Why did Andromeda’s Dad sort of chain her to the rock…’” My friend would correct herself: “Sorry… Why did Andromeda’s Dad chain her to the rock!?” I recount Pat’s insistence upon appropriate usage, free from likes, ums, and ers, because today far too many of my peers, many very intelligent and highly capable, cannot speak without sprinkling the word “like” into their speech seemingly at random. Pat’s stories taught me both that boastfulness rarely goes unpunished and that fluid, elegant speech is essential if one’s words, like Pat’s, are to have impact.