William Rodney Herring's Courses

When I was reading McWhorter's discussion on Ebonics, a lot of the word choices contradicted the story line. I felt that he approached the issue from an informative and pro stance. There were several phrases like "refusal to conjugate the verb..." I thought this should not be thought of as a refusal, but rather a decision or a choice. I did appreciate all of the information regarding the diversion from "standard English." He went into a lot of detail on the issue of the lack of the "th" sound and the difference in the standard English rice and the Ebonics rice. The way he depicts the old Hollywood stance on Ebonics in the scripts was very interesting. When he explains this he talks about the ability for African Americans to "turn off" their Ebonics speech when talking to a white person and to "turn on" their deeper, more consistent use when talking to other blacks. His comparision to the melting pot of English language was an important fact because it makes us realize that we are not superior.

The Oakland School Board Resolution on Ebonics, or “black sounds”, was created to rally for Ebonics to be considered a language rather than a dialect, this will allow schools to be able to receive funding to provide proper education for these African-American students. These children are backed by many organizations that believe this decision will help the children to reach their full potential; these organizations include: Linguistic Society of American, TESOL and the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association. I believe that rather or not Ebonics is seen as a language is not the issue. The important aspect here is the fact that everyone should be moving on the same wavelength. Using Standard English, allows everyone, black to white to brown, to communicate and understand each other. If the children are struggling within the school system, that should be addressed and assessed, but proving Ebonics is a language because they pronounce sore as “so” does not mean they should be classified as a totally new language.

This morning, I was eating breakfast at my aunt’s restaurant with my family, and my dad called from work to say that my brother-in-law had received orders to leave in November for Iraq. This deployment could not be true because my sister, her husband and their three boys had been promised as a way to avoid Iraq they would be stationed wherever the army needed troops, not in the desirable locations like Hawaii. They have been living in Alaska for two years; he had already served in Bosnia, Kuwait, and did a second tour in Korea. I know my nephews, who are teenagers, need a father now more than ever. I know my sister depends on him; I know he keeps her grounded. I suddenly wanted to run to the nearest store and buy a silly, yellow ribbon car magnet to make this go away. I wanted to pick up my phone and call the president and let him know just what I think of his sorry war. I knew the army had promised he wouldn’t go, and now I was being told he was leaving… is this fair?

My brother-in-law’s future deployment has thrown me for a loop. It has caused me to battle with the idea of fairness. Is it fair? If there even is an answer, or is this concept of fairness just a reality. When I was informed of the news I started to relive all the times throughout my life when things just didn’t seem – fair. Time and time again, I have struggled and continue to struggle with the fact that I have picked the short straw. Why does there have to be a short straw? I know that those experiences have collected to form my personality and morals, but in those moments of desperation and anguish I just want to know if there is an answer to the riddle.

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I see my mom troubled with pain and fear because she has a rare cancer. After her chemotherapy treatments, I have to bring her water because she is too weak to walk. This weakness is not fair. I want to make it go away. I wish I was a genie and with the nod of my head she would feel normal. I have the hardest time understanding this disease. I want a cure. Why should anyone have to be distorted by a horrible cancer? Cancer causes the people at M.D. Anderson to be transformed with bald hands, oxygen tanks strapped to their wheelchairs, holes in their throats to assist in speaking, radiation burns, and face masks. What is fair about this? Is this to teach me acceptance, or to make me appreciate life? I want to see the good, but I never thought it would be this surreal. I am grateful for the research. I am grateful for the treatment. But it will take time for me to see any good in cancer.

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I see my mom troubled with pain and fear because she has a rare cancer.

I will sit in a corner of a room and randomly select an individual. I will learn to mimic their traits and establish my own ability to tranform into this person. In reality, I will know this person no longer than five minutes, but subconsciously we are already the best of friends. I will have mastered the art of stepping into this person and then stepping back into myself. I am no longer one soul but two.

This weekend I drove home to take my mom to a radiation treatment. Because she has to have a combination of radiation and chemotherapy every day throughout the week my family members are on rotation. I take her on Fridays. I feel at ease with M.D. Anderson because I know the quality of the hospital is first rate, and it runs like a well-oiled machine. I would hope that you would never have to visit M.D., but if you do know that it is the best possible place with the best possible doctors and the best possible outcome. My mother found out she first had cancer a year ago and since then it has been a struggle. The doctors were unable to clarify the cancer type because she is a very rare case study. Her first cancerous tumor appeared in a lymph node in her throat, and until three months ago the doctors could find no other malignant tumors. They knew that is scientifically impossible for the cancer to originate in her throat; we were all waiting to find the point of origin. We now know the cancer is within the fluid in her lungs and has not attached to any of her organs. Every day we are thankful and hope that she remains strong.

So often I find that textbooks read like boring textbooks, but the way The Sense of Structure reads is surprising. I appreciate the difference in a huge way because I didn’t feel like I was being talked at, and Mr. Gopen’s wit was refreshing.
Throughout the reading, statements were made about word choice and the fact that picking the right word is less important than picking the correct word location and that was really interesting to me. I am the type of the writer who will rack my brain for the perfect word, stare at the computer, get angry, write and rewrite until ultimately I am satisfied. I was writing more with me in mind than my audience.