Why English Matters

I wrote this essay many years ago in response to my frustration with students who just didn't seem to care about becoming more effective communicators. Recently I have become equally frustrated with an entire generation of teenagers who don't seem to care about anything, but since I still believe in the ideas expressed herein, I remain hopeful.

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Why English Matters
A Treatise for My Students Who Have Never Expected an Answer

"Why do we have to do this?"

This question has haunted the entire ten years of my teaching career. It is usually asked in a disgusted tone shortly after I have given an assignment that requires students to do something more complex or creative than pretend to listen.

"Why do we have to do this?"

I've never had a ready answer that satisfied the students or myself. Sometimes I couldn't explain my reasons even though the assignments seemed to have obvious value. Sometimes I resorted to the tired teacher/parent response "Because I said so." Sadly, sometimes I didn't know why I was making kids do certain assignments other than that I had a vague impression some of the work would somehow help them learn an unnamed concept that might come in handy for unspecified future purposes. Reflection on my own experience in junior high and high school indicated that my own teachers probably didn't have any clearer idea of why they taught what they taught, and sometimes I taught things just because those things were taught to me! On the first day of the third term, I put the question to my ninth grade English class: Why do we have to do this? Why is English important?

Without exception, all the students recognized that English classes are supposed to prepare them for something, but they too were pretty unclear on what exactly it might be. Mindy wrote, "Maybe it will help us in the future, depending on the careers we choose." Mike B. referred to the Boy Scout motto, saying simply, "Be prepared." Mysti said English provides a "foundation for something that really does apply to our life." RuthAnne, perhaps in one of her inspired moments of sarcasm over my complete lack of organization, claimed, "This class will prepare us for the inconsistencies of everyday life." Cynical Kellen wrote, "Sooner or later someone will give me a test on it." Marie said it was nice "to sound more intelligent than everyone else." Ashlee said that proper English makes us "feel smart," while Stacey claimed that it helps us "look impressive." Tiffiny and Mike M., competitive spirits both, wanted to "beat the Japanese." Similar to my own vague impressions about why I was teaching certain things, my students had vague impressions about why they should learn them.

All these answers are correct in some way, but none of them offer a specific reason why English matters. None of them address the connection between studying Shakespeare and getting a good job or living a productive life.

"Why do we have to do this?"

Without language there is no thought. Thought is words arranged in grammatically precise ways. Language makes meaning. Without it, there would be no communication, no humor, no friendship, and no love because all these good things about life require the words to define them, the thought to make them matter, and therefore language. In fact, language reminds us that we are alive and that we had better do something worthwhile for the time we're here. It makes sense to study our language and learn to control it.

"Why do we have to do this?"

Language used masterfully is power. Those who run the world are those who control the language, understand the implications of writing a law with a comma in one place but not in another, see how the masses can be soothed if the right words are presented in the right order. Newt Gingrich, then Speaker of the House, once set out to "get rid of Medicare." Voters didn't like the sound of that, and many of Newt's cohorts lost their jobs in the election. Newt revised his original wording, and by the next election he was trying to "scale back Medicare." That went over slightly better than his first draft, so by the 1994 election (in which Newt ushered in a whole pack of new Republican representatives who borrowed his phrases and backed his policies), Newt Gingrich was arguing to "save Medicare." His plan never changed, but his language did, and so did his fortunes. Such a command of language has always been a powerful, and often dangerous, thing.

Before the Civil War, American slave owners purposely prevented their slaves from learning to read. With literacy comes a dawning realization of one's place in the world, and this was something the slave owners did not want their slaves to have. The best way to keep people enslaved is to keep them uninformed, to prevent them from developing the language that will lead them to ideas like justice and rebellion.

In Animal Farm, George Orwell satirizes the totalitarian propaganda of Joseph Stalin through a character called Squealer. Squealer is a pig who practices making the undesirable sound pleasant. When the faithful old horse Boxer has nearly worked himself to death, the pig leaders of the farm sell him to the glue factory and all the animals know it, but Squealer insists Boxer has been taken to the veterinarian for treatment. Because he manipulates the language which many of the uneducated animals don't fully understand, Squealer makes them doubt their own sensibilities even when they see the new shipment of whiskey, paid for with Boxer's remains, that the pigs get drunk on that night. Squealer represents not just Stalin's propaganda, but all the disingenuous tricksters who use and abuse the language to delude the uneducated. This is a powerful argument for education as well as a warning. George Orwell understood the power of language and used it to warn us against those who might use it to destroy us.

Adolf Hitler not only used propaganda against the Jews of Europe, but he also understood that if he could control information, he could maintain his fascist regime. He outlawed reading of anything except the works he deemed acceptable: his own. Scriptures, philosophy, poetry, and any other writing with which der fuhrer did not agree was burned in the bonfires of Nazi hatred. By controlling language, Hitler nearly annihilated an entire race of people without opposition. When he said that all enemies of the German state were to "disappear into the night and fog," few people questioned the euphemism. When towns full of Jews were promised "resettlement" and "special treatment," no one stood to ask what those terms implied. It was only when Hitler had annihilated one-third of the world's Jewish population as well as five million other innocent victims that the deluded began to wonder about the so-called "Final Solution to the Jewish question." We need to master language to ensure that another Hitler can never rise to power.
History is full of painful illustrations of evil and immoral leaders who controlled the masses by controlling the language, but there are hopeful examples as well. No one today would likely know much about the devastation of the Holocaust if not for a little Jewish girl in Amsterdam who wrote down her thoughts while she was hiding from the Nazis. Hitler took Anne Frank's life, but he could not take her words. Those words, published all over the world, live today as both a reminder of the horrors that we must never allow to happen again and as evidence that through language we find Hope.

America's extremely literate Founding Fathers knew that the key to freedom and justice was language. Not only did Thomas Jefferson pen many of the most important documents that have shaped this country, but he argued for a system of public education by which all citizens should become masters of the language. The speeches and writings of Benjamin Franklin, Patrick Henry, and John Quincy Adams not only prompted the revolt which became the American Revolution, but their words are still published and studied today, as are the words of one of our finest Presidents.

Not only did Abraham Lincoln free the slaves, but he delivered what is now considered to be one of the most powerful speeches in history: The Gettysburg Address. In 267 words, he changed the future. You can bet that those were 267 very carefully chosen words. If Abraham Lincoln can draft his writing so carefully, surely we should follow his example.

"Why do we have to do this?"

Language used masterfully controls the attention, emotion, and action of a listener or reader. Those who master language not only command more control over their world, but it is less likely that they can be controlled by less-well-intentioned others. Consider the people who have recently been in the news because they received letters from Publisher's Clearinghouse claiming that if they were the first to return their magazine orders, they would be the winners of 11-million dollar prizes. These people believed the letters and, in an attempt to be the first to return the entry forms, flew to the Publisher's Clearinghouse offices in Florida to return the orders only to find that the fine print at the top of the entry read, "If you have the winning number...," which none of them did. Their "winning" entries ended up costing them money! This occurred because people did not read the fine print or because they could not interpret its real meaning. Language is confusing for those who haven't mastered it, and while many evil world leaders and corrupt businesses may bank on the fact that there will be enough illiterate people to let their lies go unnoticed, it is important that we work against this trend of stupidity, this cultural belief that it's cool to be dumb.

"Why do we have to do this?"

Americans face a daily barrage of persuasive language on television, in the mail, on billboards, and from salespeople. The primary purpose of this assault is to make people willingly part with their money, and the primary weapon is language. A dish detergent that claims to get dishes "virtually spotless" sounds pretty impressive until you consider that "virtually spotless" does not mean it removes all the spots. That detergent leaves spots on the dishes and admits it, yet it's been one of the top-selling dish detergents for years. We buy gum four out of five dentists recommend, never considering that that means 20% of the dentists don't recommend it. We eat food that calls itself "light" (or, worse, "lite"), but we never stop to consider that "light" only means it has less fat and calories than that brand's regular product. Light mayonnaise still has enough fat in it to paralyze a whale, but we devour it believing that we're doing our bodies a favor. Michael Jordan, the greatest basketball player of all time, sells us basketball shoes--which is understandable--but what makes him an expert on hot dogs, underwear, soft drinks, or the countless other products to which he has sold his face? Could it be that we buy these products because, as the commercial says, we want to "be like Mike"? Speaking of commercials, who hasn't walked around for days at a time with an annoying commercial jingle floating through his brain? Language is at the root of every sales pitch, and even if we ridicule those pitches, we're still spending our money on the products. We are swayed by language, particularly when we don't fully understand it. Purchased a new computer lately? Did you get the 32X CD ROM with the AVI card and the 100 Mhz BUS port?

"Why do we have to do this?"

Life is a problem solving process. How well you solve your problems often determines how much you enjoy your life. The purpose of any language class is to practice the steps of problem solving: 1) Identify the problem then present and defend a solution (a thesis); 2) Master the conventions of language that allow your words to convey your intentions exactly, and therefore do the first step well; 3) Become a critical thinker so you are aware of the problem and are able to find the best solution given the circumstances.

The focus of English classes is communication through writing, reading, speaking, and listening. All these are language-based skills, and the reason English teachers require you to practice these skills is because effective communication matters. If you can't communicate effectively, you can't solve problems. Some might argue that you don't always have to communicate with others, which is true, but you are in constant dialogue with yourself. If you can't express to yourself what you think and feel, you won't be able to solve the problems you're faced with. Proper writing and speaking are evidence of clear thinking. Good reading and listening skills reflect an ability to understand and interpret the world. The toughest problems can only be solved with clear thinking and understanding; otherwise the "solutions" turn into other problems. That's why you have to read and write a lot in English classes. You are, in effect, mastering the communication skills you need to solve life's problems.

"Why do we have to do this?"

English teachers spend at least some time on grammar rules that make language work. These conventions of language make it possible for us to say exactly what we mean, with precisely the desired effect. If you don't know the difference between a dog that knows its master and a dog that knows it's master, odds are your dog runs your life. If you communicate with others (which living requires us to do) in imprecise ways, you aren't expressing exactly what you want or feel. Whenever you leave things up to the interpretations of others, you risk creating more problems than you solve. Details matter, and grammar study is where you learn those details. This punctuation parable--which came my way as so many teacher resources do: on an uncredited photocopy--illustrates this point.

The Punctuation Parable

Once upon a time, there lived a very wealthy old gentleman. He was rich beyond belief -- he owned a huge mansion, a large estate, businesses, and properties. The old man knew that he was getting old and would die soon, so he wrote his will, designating who would receive his fortune. Soon thereafter, he became very sick and died. All his greedy relatives quickly came to claim their inheritance, but when the will was read, this is what they found:

I leave my possessions to my nephew none to my brother never pay the bills of the tailor none by any means for the beggars everything I have said is my desire. F. Alvarez

Well, no one could tell who was to inherit the fortune. Because Mr. Alvarez had not punctuated his will, no one could understand it. Each of the parties mentioned in the will claimed that he was supposed to receive the fortune, so they all went to court. First, the brother presented his version of the will:

I, leave my possessions to my nephew? None! To my brother. Never pay the bills of the tailor. None, by any means, for the beggars. Everything I have said is my desire. F. Alvarez

The nephew objected strongly to the brother's version and presented his own:

I leave my possessions to my nephew. None to my brother. Never pay the bills of the tailor. None, by any means, for the beggars. Everything I have said is my desire. F. Alvarez

Next, the tailor objected and presented his version:

I, leave my possessions to my nephew? None! To my bother? Never! Pay the bills of the tailor. None , by any means, for the beggars. Everything I have said is my
desire. F. Alvarez

But a beggar in the courtroom objected and presented yet another version:

I, leave my possessions to my nephew? None! To my brother? Never! Pay the bills of the tailor? None, by any means! For the beggars -- everything I have! Said, is my desire. F. Alvarez

Who got the fortune? Well, the judge couldn't tell which of the wills was right, so he gave the entire fortune to the state. And you know what happens to money in the hands of the state...

"Why do we have to do this?"

If you can't think critically, the world is going to chew you up and spit you out like a wad of old gum. People will sell you products you don't need, talk you into doing things that go against your nature or your values, fool you into completing the work while someone else collects the money and the credit. In English classes, you look at books and poems and essays and movies and all other forms of communication; you examine them, and you glean from them the good things that you can use in your own communication. Then you practice. You evaluate the effectiveness of the story or the argument or the figures of speech, and in doing so you become a critical thinker. Then you write about it. Practice makes perfect, and it is better to practice in the safety of a classroom than out in the "real world" where imprecise communication has more serious consequences than a bunch of red editor's marks written across a sloppy essay. Consider all those boring novels and stupid poems you complained about as practice for the problems you'll have to solve later, and keep in mind that the real problems are worse than any worksheet, reading assignment, essay, or term project.

I guess my students were right: English class is a type of practice for life because it all comes back to words. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Everything meaningful is because language makes it so. Without language there are no movies, no music, no sports, no money, no freedom, no love, no purpose in life. They all require words, and in your English class you should try to master your use of them.

Does that answer your question?