Alternate Language Proposed for the CDC Budget

According to the Washington Post, Trump and his... who? Minions? have given a list of forbidden words to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Below are the words not allowed to appear in the budget proposal, and my suggestions for alternate language. I've included alternates in a sentence, to get a feel for the new language, which can seem clunky at first.

1. Forbidden: Diversity
Alternate language: not-just-whiteness; difference; heterogeneity; where people exhibit clear differences between each other. 

As in, "In areas of not-just-whiteness, the median income is often half of that of just-whiteness neighborhoods."

2. Forbidden: Entitlement
Alternate language: due by law; owed by law. 

As in, "Despite the 70-year-old's being due by law a healthcare benefit, per his military service, he was denied any care at all due to his pre-existing condition."

3./4. Forbidden: Evidence-based/Science-based
Alternate language: factual.

As in, "Climate change is factual, and of course each country must do its part to eliminate carbon emissions."

5. Forbidden: Fetus
Alternate language: foetus; unborn children. 

As in, "The unborn child should not be hurt in any way, because this is the one issue that has moral credibility, and there is no way we are losing traction with the one-issue voters. No way in hell."


6. Forbidden: Transgender
Alternate language: individuals who are confusing in their ambiguity; scapegoat.

As in, "How can Americans become better at treating individuals who are confusing in their ambiguity with respect instead of beating them up in public restrooms?" 


7. Forbidden: Vulnerable
Alternate language: threatened, endangered; poor; sick. 

As in, "This administration preys on the poorest people who are already threatened by big businesses."

---

The White House budget will be a reflection of what this administration holds dear. Just as important as what it spends money on is the recognition of what is missing from the budget. They've clearly outlined that bit for us: facts, transgender people, vulnerable people, diversity, and what Americans are entitled to by our own laws.

And here's a freebie, for the kids. 

Trump
Alternate language: No Justice for the Poor.

Saved from Homogeneity

Not long ago, I had the high privilege of sitting down to lunch with seven students. We were talking about language, and we were able to discuss idioms in Korean, French, Spanish, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Vietnamese, all in English. Then, the ceiling opened up, and a light shone from heaven, and a dove descended. And a chorus of voices in these languages said what I'm sure was, "this is diversity, in which God is well pleased."

Why Hugging a T-Rex is Not Funny

I wrote a joke on the whiteboard in the residence hall a while back: "Reminder: Sunday is hug a T-rex day!"

Nono and Qing walked in and saw the board. They discussed it together in Mandarin, but eventually the conversation flowed over to me:

Qing: What is a trex?

Me: It is a big dinosaur.

Qing: A dinesor? What is?

Me: With motions. You know, raaaarrrr!

Nono: Oh! She tells Qing in Mandarin what I'm talking about.

Qing: Less confused for a moment, then re-confused. Why should we hug it?

Me: Suddenly at a loss. Because, probably nobody ever hugs them.

Qing: It's dangerous.

More on Hyphens

I kid you not.

Same handout, different problem. I was talking about how with certain prefixes, we add a hyphen to avoid aberrations in the appearance of the word. I used the example "un-American."  Without the hyphen, we have a capital letter mid-word—"the horror of it all!" I said, "This should never happen in English." I said this dramatically, extemporaneously, as I often do in order to wake people up. I mean, it's not like science class where one might get away with threatening immediate danger to life and limb if students do not follow instructions. Honestly, petty annoyance resulting in the loss of a point for proper mechanics is my highest threat. Still, I feel they ought to know... But I should have given my dramatic "never" some extra thought. David took no time at all to respond, "You mean, like 'McKalips'?" Burn. I feebly tried to say that it was Irish, and therefore not applicable.

More Stories From Real Life

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon and evening in the dorm office. So the weekends go. I bring my grading with hopes of getting it done while accomplishing a long stint in the office.
The afternoon went beautifully. But I found myself getting a little punchy by 8pm.

A Portrait of 8-10pm, in three parts

Part I:  Sitting Next to the Wireless Router

Rika comes in. Her back hurts often. We talk about what kind of treatment she might need to look into this week. Rika remains, pretending to study vocabulary for the SATs, but really just talking to me (better practice, anyway, we all agree).

Sherrie enters the office. She begins to speak in Chinese to someone on the other end of her computer.

Hue comes in and sits next to Sherrie. They are best friends. They do not speak to each other now, each plugged in to their respective devices. Sherrie's volume always rising; Hue never making a sound.

Gow (a squat 15-year-old from China, an incredible pianist, the sweetest and funniest of all the students) comes in with his computer. He asks me whether I can't make his computer play all for a list of illegally downloaded video clips. It's all in Chinese, except a few command buttons. I say "no," I can't help. I couldn't help if it were all in English.

Rika leaves, called away to something. Gow sits at the desk near me, occasionally asking me questions about movies I like. Slowly, I realize that the smell I have been hardly noticing is emanating from this boy. He is edging ever closer, refusing to raise his voice as Sherrie's conversation grows louder and I keep asking him to repeat himself.

Sherrie gets excited sometimes. Gow looks behind, furtively annoyed with Sherrie. I tell her to take her talking elsewhere. She leaves. Gow takes her seat and hunches over his computer.

Part II: Still Sitting Next to the Wireless Router

Andy has been pacing around the downstairs with John and Wu (all Chinese guys). I am speaking with a student when Andy hands me his phone, "I can't understand," he says with his Brit-Chinese accent. I take the phone, "hello?" I hear something garbled "...food."

"I'm sorry? Who is this?"

"Chinese food." The voice is muffled, and has a deep, not-Chinese accent. Could it be Mexican? Seriously? I look at John and Wu.

"Are you guys ordering Chinese food?" They nod enthusiastically with big smiles that could be suspicious or merely indicative of their fondness for Chinese food. I look to Andy: he is laughing with Rika. Is this a joke? "What are you ordering?"

"Duck. Lo Mein..." John replies. They cannot remember their order.

"I'm sorry," I hang up and hand the phone to Andy. I expect him to tell me it was a joke. Hah. Hilarious.

"What did he say?" Andy asks.

"I don't know. I couldn't understand him," I reply.

"Is he here yet?" We exchange the most perplexed looks with one another. Rika is from then on the intermediary between the British-Chinese-accented Andy and the American-Mexican Chinese food delivery man.

Part III: Still Sitting Next to the Friggin' Wireless Router

The snow has stopped outside and I hear the scraping of a shovel. Herb has come to clear the treacherous steps. I go out, sensing a responsibility. "Hi Herb. I looked for a shovel... the dorm's responsibility... of course. In the future... (oops). Thanks, Herb."

"Turn down the show, girls." I return to the office. I pick up a research paper to grade. Where is the works cited, for crying out loud? This is draft two!

What is that smell? Oh, Gow.

"I am locked out of my room," Yan says.

"Here's your room's key, return it when you're done." Maybe I'll catch up on online Scrabble for a minute.

Aw, the internet is down. No problem, I'll go back to the research papers. Only 21 to go.

Sherrie, sitting just outside the office door, pokes her head around the doorframe, "Excuse me, Carolyn, the internet is not working." Fine. I restart the router. A minute passes. Still no internet.

Gow asks, "Can you access the internet settings on your computer?"

"No."

From a distance, Lia shouts, "Sherrie, could you ask Caroline to restart the router?"

I'm annoyed. That's not my name. I've already restarted the router. Find something to do that doesn't require the internet or complaining to me about the internet.

A few minutes pass. Gow speaks up again, "Can you access the internet settings from your computer?"

"No," I snap, "I already told you that." He sinks his head.

A few minutes pass in which I look at page two of a research paper about the history and importance of numbers. I have written nothing on it.

Students are coming out of their internet stupor. They are making interactive sounds. They are thinking of ways to amuse themselves that don't involve the internet. With only 25 minutes until curfew, I could have awake, alert 16-year-olds coming into the office to talk to me, to ask for food, to ask if we can have a snowball fight. This night is going downhill fast. With some guilt, I text Chad to take a look at the internet. He comes out of his apartment. He moves a wire or two. We have internet. Things quiet down. I give up on the papers. I play Scrabble. It's nice to have the internet.

Dubious Origins

As we were going over vocabulary words last week, I was calling on students at random to give the answer for the exercise. Note here that I often employ phrases in Spanish while speaking normally. This day was no different, "James, would you read, por favor?"

The class snickered, and it didn't take me long to realize my mistake: James is the only Spanish speaker in this whole class. He speaks English perfectly well, without an accent, even. And I do not often think about the fact that he used to be an ESL student. I hadn't thought about it at all, actually. But I realized it now.

I thought quickly.

The best way to proceed? Act like nothing happened. Do damage control later? Maybe. After class, I decided that I might as well just let it drop. When I have been on the other side, I didn't always like people to acknowledge that I was not a native speaker.

But the next day when he came in for a library pass, I thought, "shoot. I'll just get that awkward moment out of the way and explain coolly how I hadn't meant any disrespect."

"James," I said, "I wanted to apologize for what may have looked like insensitivity yesterday. I wasn't thinking about your Spanish-speaking background when I switched into Spanish for that second. I wasn't thinking about anything at all, really."

His face was inscrutable, "uh... it's okay. I don't speak Spanish." I was a tad stunned.

"Really? Well, you should, it's a great language. Mmmkay, well. Good... But weren't you an ESL student until this year?"

"Yeah. I'm from Egypt."

As they say in the song, gentle audience, "Everyone's a little bit racist sometimes."

Something Old and Something New

The New comes first:

I just finished the Praxis II test. It was so dang easy that I shouldn't even devote time to it in even this most casual of published media. However, it marks a movement forward in time for which I am very, very grateful.

I may not always be in search of part-time jobs. One day I may have a classroom where challenges will take place on a different level than those which I have faced this week. I just got a new job. Did you know that? I started this week. And it's over this week, too. They are closing. I'm back on the hunt. But the real tragedy has little to do with my job search. I may now be in competition for the same part-time job as the people who paid me just two days ago. Disappointing. But not a strange tale for our times.

Now, for the old. These are some poems I had written and first published on my xanga. (I haven't linked my xanga to this blog. I don't think I will.) I occasionally revisit it to see where I've come from.

Modern English

Fragmented.

Or poignant?

To Our Father in Heaven:

From what depths You cry!

Have cried to reach me!

Suddenly I am awake.

I have been crying too!

Awareness crashes in.

A child crying after a great fall.

And You. Emerge out of the darkness,

Calling my name.

It is my name because You have called.

I have heard it.

You have taken me in Your arms

And You have spoken it. Are You crying

With

Me?

Such tidings You bear!

Comfort and joy!

Hebrews 10:39

"But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved."

So persevere. It's a matter of identity. We are the kind of people who believe and are saved. Just like runners first have to think of themselves as runners before completing a marathon, or an artist must call herself an artist before completing a masterpiece. We are perseverers. Holding out and fighting through is what we do.

Lupita Mañana, by Patricia Beatty

I'm reading an especially difficult book right now for a class on teaching literature to young adults, Lupita Mañana by Patricia Beatty. It is written in English, and Beatty is not of Hispanic descent, although she lived most of her life in California. The book is written for young adults. But it leaves an ache in me.

A brother and sister are forced to travel northward from the Baja peninsula into the United States. They are taken advantage of at nearly every turn, and the only thing that saves them from falling completely into the hands of robbers, liars, and killers is an amount of common sense. These children are not extraordinary in any way. They have no special intuitive powers, no special intelligence, no special savings account waiting for them. They are folks. Just folks. And I sympathize with them something awful! I am stunned by the reality of their situation. I am sure I've read half of this book with my mouth agape.

First, Second, and Third Languages

I just finished an English "lesson" with Yazmin. We had a wonderful conversation, explaining "was," "would," contractions, the third person singular, and the varied cultural treatment of language learners. We agreed that many people in the U.S. seem to believe English to be the language that God speaks. For that reason they may become impatient with those learning English--and this often without thinking about why they are impatient. Their mindset is different. They will give up on the conversation more easily, deciding that it is not worth the embarrassment for both parties to keep trying.

We agreed that the same puzzlement exists, for example, in Mexico, where people may also expect their conversational partners to speak perfectly. But instead of impatience with the learner, the native speaker in Mexico will usually exhibit curiosity at the learner, thereby aiding the conversational transaction.

I see more and more that a dignified and determined attitude toward language learners is most likely to instill confidence in speaking. I think the main impediment to language learning is fear of making mistakes and sounding stupid. Learning is first admitting that we don't know something; and secondly forming that knowledge, usually by experience. The implications for this are as follows: we shall make mistakes. Praise the Lord. What better way to remain humble than to be continually frustrated in our attempts to communicate even a basic idea?

I have a wonderful example of humility. On our way to Tapatios on Sunday, Kevin was explaining to Yazmin, Kiko, and Moises his understanding of American Sign Language. He has had two years of college Spanish, but he still lacks some confidence, and it had been some time, he said, since he had practiced. He was explaining his second language in his third language! A few times he looked to me for help, using a sign and a questioning face, as if to say, "how do I say {insert sign} in Spanish?"

How do I tell you? You had to be there to laugh with us--to know with us that we don't know. I remember those moments with a new affection, a renewed vigor to go and do what seems at first to be uncomfortable, and therefore unnecessary. Perhaps that is what makes the reward so great.

Dear "O": Wish you were here.

What happened to the "o" in manoeuver? We can't decide that some words will change for the sake of efficiency and others will remain uselessly difficult. Through and though come to mind. Superfluous letters are a mark of the English language. I embrace them. I miss them when they're gone.