Speaking DNS
It is a strange experience sometimes, being a native English speaker in Tvind. But only when I really stop and listen...
We speak this strange dialect here, a distinct mix between English and Gibberish. I think technically speaking this would be referred to as "English as a second language", but do we really want to discuss the matter so seriously?
I am really asking. Seriously. How much should I care? Because if I really do stop to listen, I notice all these funny mutations running around campus, like frogs with three heads. You know what I mean; looks like English, smells like English, sounds like English, but...
Exercise becomes fitness
Locks become lockers
For's evil twin is terrorizing sentences
and suddenly everything is funny!
They seem to think they own the place! Should I take these language phenomena seriously? Of course, there was on serious case in which I personally witnessed the birth of a new word: "strimmer". It was spreading so quickly through the vocabulary of the OL that I could envision its introduction into the conciousness of DI's across Denmark within a few days time. Intervention was called for.
Or was it? What would happen if we left the language alone, dedicated it as a new dialect: Tvindish? How long would it be before we spoke a new language, distinct from the rest of humanity? It could be the greatest linguistic experiment of our time.
Ok, I am having fun with this concept, but really the issue at hand is a relevant one for my life. The question is how far do I delve into combat against this freak English? Over time I have discovered that certain individuals appreciate having their English corrected, even mid-sentence. But I still wonder, "when is it too much?"
Some conversations are not worth interrupting to chase an errant pronoun. There are times when fixing a preposition is less important than allowing for flow of a thought or the following of an inspiration.
There are certain doors I simply refuse to enter. I do not want to cause friends to believe that what they say is less important because their grammar is imperfect. I do not want to become the cause of eloquent teammates checking their words. I do not want to become the reason that fellow students are never quite at ease.
Moreover, I personally do not want to become so obsessed with finding mistakes that when my teammates speak I forget to hear to their words. The more I correct, the more I listen for mistakes, the less I hear. It is a sad sequence of events.
So how far do I go? After all, does it really matter whether every one of us has perfect English. Personally, philosophically, I'm not sure I give a damn. Some of the most amazingly creative English I have ever heard has come from the mouths of teammates who simply did not know better. Sometimes when I am writing I remember this and am inspired to let my own English flow a little more loosely.
Somewhere here there is a difficult line between a genuine need for expression/comprehension and an irrelevant desire for perfection. I do not know what the answer is, but I continue to tread that line.
It is a strange experience sometimes, being a native English speaker in Tvind. But only when I really stop and listen...
We speak this strange dialect here, a distinct mix between English and Gibberish. I think technically speaking this would be referred to as "English as a second language", but do we really want to discuss the matter so seriously?
I am really asking. Seriously. How much should I care? Because if I really do stop to listen, I notice all these funny mutations running around campus, like frogs with three heads. You know what I mean; looks like English, smells like English, sounds like English, but...
Exercise becomes fitness
Locks become lockers
For's evil twin is terrorizing sentences
and suddenly everything is funny!
They seem to think they own the place! Should I take these language phenomena seriously? Of course, there was on serious case in which I personally witnessed the birth of a new word: "strimmer". It was spreading so quickly through the vocabulary of the OL that I could envision its introduction into the conciousness of DI's across Denmark within a few days time. Intervention was called for.
Or was it? What would happen if we left the language alone, dedicated it as a new dialect: Tvindish? How long would it be before we spoke a new language, distinct from the rest of humanity? It could be the greatest linguistic experiment of our time.
Ok, I am having fun with this concept, but really the issue at hand is a relevant one for my life. The question is how far do I delve into combat against this freak English? Over time I have discovered that certain individuals appreciate having their English corrected, even mid-sentence. But I still wonder, "when is it too much?"
Some conversations are not worth interrupting to chase an errant pronoun. There are times when fixing a preposition is less important than allowing for flow of a thought or the following of an inspiration.
There are certain doors I simply refuse to enter. I do not want to cause friends to believe that what they say is less important because their grammar is imperfect. I do not want to become the cause of eloquent teammates checking their words. I do not want to become the reason that fellow students are never quite at ease.
Moreover, I personally do not want to become so obsessed with finding mistakes that when my teammates speak I forget to hear to their words. The more I correct, the more I listen for mistakes, the less I hear. It is a sad sequence of events.
So how far do I go? After all, does it really matter whether every one of us has perfect English. Personally, philosophically, I'm not sure I give a damn. Some of the most amazingly creative English I have ever heard has come from the mouths of teammates who simply did not know better. Sometimes when I am writing I remember this and am inspired to let my own English flow a little more loosely.
Somewhere here there is a difficult line between a genuine need for expression/comprehension and an irrelevant desire for perfection. I do not know what the answer is, but I continue to tread that line.
posted by Megan at
3:40 PM
