Oh great. A Newcastle University (U.K.) professor has stated that students no longer need to learn spelling "because children can correct mistakes on their mobile phone or computer."
"Sugata Mitra, professor of educational technology at Newcastle University, said that good grammar was necessary 'maybe 100 years ago' but 'not right now,'" says this article.
I read this out loud to the girls, and both groaned. "Why are people so stupid?" mused Younger Daughter. "Oh wait -- it's because they're not teaching things in school."
Or, as a commenter at the end of the article said, "Eye thinks its thyme this per fesser gets hiss self better hearing form the pee pull. Spelling just b not as impotent as it was used too bee. Looks at me. I talk n spill real good. Eyes no so cousin my calm pewter did nun red let hers."
Personally, eye just no that if eye tryd two spel however eye wanted as a riter, my editers wood kil me. And my reeders woodnt bee two happy eether.
This professor also said that youngsters should be encouraged to communicate in other ways, such as via text messaging. For the record, I call such children "texting monkeys" since they appear unable to adequately communicate either in the written or the spoken word.
To be fair, the British organization National Association for the Teaching of English defended teaching correct grammar in schools.
Thank God.
Showing posts with label texting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label texting. Show all posts
Monday, August 5, 2013
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The human touch
Some time ago, I bookmarked an article called "We expect more from technology and less from each other" by Sherry Turkle. The writer tells how she was attending a Boston Globe panel on "cyberetiquette" which included such advice as no texting at family dinner, no texting in restaurants, and don't bring your laptop to your children's sporting events (no matter how tempting). In short, how to be polite in a linked society.
Ms. Turkle highlighted a question from a genuinely exhausted and harassed woman in the audience who explained that as a working mother, she had very little time to talk to her friends, to e-mail, to text, to keep up. "Actually," she confessed, "the only time I have is at night, after I'm off work and before I go home, when I go family shopping at Trader Joe's [a supermarket]. But the guy at the checkout line, he wants to talk. I just want to be on my phone, into my texts and Facebook. Do I have the right to just ignore him?"
Most of the panel speakers responded with sympathy and confirmed that this woman did indeed have the right to privacy and shouldn't be disturbed as she used her smart phone during a checkout procedure.
But Ms. Turkle had a different perspective. She wrote, "I said that we all know that the job that the man at the checkout counter was doing can now be done by a machine. But until he is replaced by a machine, I think he should be treated as a person, with all the rights of a person. And that includes a bit of human exchange, since that is clearly what makes his job tolerable for him, makes him feel that in his job, this job that could be done by a machine, he is still a human being." [Emphasis added.]
Needless to say, her answer was not exactly greeted with cries of enthusiasm and warm empathetic understanding. Instead, people didn't want to hear it.
The fact is, people have lost the art of polite chitchat. Many people do indeed view checkout clerks and other service personnel as invisible machines, there to silently and efficiently perform their service function and nothing else.
It reminds me of a line from Bill Bryson's excellent book At Home, a fascinating history of domestic life (largely from an English perspective).
In the chapter covering domestic servants, Mr. Bryson observed that most people during the nineteenth century (the age of servants) were no more fond of their servants than we are today of our appliances -- they were merely ambulatory machines whose sole purpose in life was to serve, tirelessly and thanklessly.
It's an uncomfortable observation and an attitude which we, today, in our modern times, would like to claim we would never have. Until, of course, we encounter a checkout clerk or a hotel chambermaid or a garbage collector or other person whose job is to make our existence more comfortable, sanitary, or efficient.
And how do we treat them?
"What once would have seemed like 'good service,'" notes Ms. Turkle in reference to checkout clerks making polite chitchat, "is now an inconvenience... We also want technology to step in as we invite people to step back. It used to be that we imagined that our mobile phones would be for us to talk to each other. Now, our mobile phones are there to talk to us."
Yikes. I don't know if I like the direction this is taking. At what point do we lock ourselves in a room with our technology and deny all human interaction because our smart phones and laptops offer us a window into the outside world?
Politeness and manners -- and a human touch -- is the lubricant that makes our society tolerable. If we're too tired and exhausted after a long day's work to engage in polite chitchat with a checkout clerk -- and thus make his job more tolerable and enjoyable -- then we need to examine our attitude and whether or not we consider the checkout clerk to be merely a human "appliance."
"[S]mitten with technology," concludes Mr. Turkle, "...we don't much want to talk about these problems. But it's time to talk."
I agree. Talk. Don't text.
Thoughts?
Ms. Turkle highlighted a question from a genuinely exhausted and harassed woman in the audience who explained that as a working mother, she had very little time to talk to her friends, to e-mail, to text, to keep up. "Actually," she confessed, "the only time I have is at night, after I'm off work and before I go home, when I go family shopping at Trader Joe's [a supermarket]. But the guy at the checkout line, he wants to talk. I just want to be on my phone, into my texts and Facebook. Do I have the right to just ignore him?"
Most of the panel speakers responded with sympathy and confirmed that this woman did indeed have the right to privacy and shouldn't be disturbed as she used her smart phone during a checkout procedure.
But Ms. Turkle had a different perspective. She wrote, "I said that we all know that the job that the man at the checkout counter was doing can now be done by a machine. But until he is replaced by a machine, I think he should be treated as a person, with all the rights of a person. And that includes a bit of human exchange, since that is clearly what makes his job tolerable for him, makes him feel that in his job, this job that could be done by a machine, he is still a human being." [Emphasis added.]
Needless to say, her answer was not exactly greeted with cries of enthusiasm and warm empathetic understanding. Instead, people didn't want to hear it.
The fact is, people have lost the art of polite chitchat. Many people do indeed view checkout clerks and other service personnel as invisible machines, there to silently and efficiently perform their service function and nothing else.
It reminds me of a line from Bill Bryson's excellent book At Home, a fascinating history of domestic life (largely from an English perspective).
In the chapter covering domestic servants, Mr. Bryson observed that most people during the nineteenth century (the age of servants) were no more fond of their servants than we are today of our appliances -- they were merely ambulatory machines whose sole purpose in life was to serve, tirelessly and thanklessly.
It's an uncomfortable observation and an attitude which we, today, in our modern times, would like to claim we would never have. Until, of course, we encounter a checkout clerk or a hotel chambermaid or a garbage collector or other person whose job is to make our existence more comfortable, sanitary, or efficient.
And how do we treat them?
"What once would have seemed like 'good service,'" notes Ms. Turkle in reference to checkout clerks making polite chitchat, "is now an inconvenience... We also want technology to step in as we invite people to step back. It used to be that we imagined that our mobile phones would be for us to talk to each other. Now, our mobile phones are there to talk to us."
Yikes. I don't know if I like the direction this is taking. At what point do we lock ourselves in a room with our technology and deny all human interaction because our smart phones and laptops offer us a window into the outside world?
Politeness and manners -- and a human touch -- is the lubricant that makes our society tolerable. If we're too tired and exhausted after a long day's work to engage in polite chitchat with a checkout clerk -- and thus make his job more tolerable and enjoyable -- then we need to examine our attitude and whether or not we consider the checkout clerk to be merely a human "appliance."
"[S]mitten with technology," concludes Mr. Turkle, "...we don't much want to talk about these problems. But it's time to talk."
I agree. Talk. Don't text.
Thoughts?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
I just learned how to text message!!!
I know all my wonderful readers are too smart to text and drive.....
Thursday, August 26, 2010
The average teen sends 3000 texts a month
Here are some revolting bits of trivia.
Statistics show 80 percent of all 15 to 18-year-olds own a cell phone. And the rate of texting has sky rocketed 600 percent in three years. The average teen sends 3,000 texts a month.
This apparently fits all the definitions of an addition.
Neuroimaging studies show the same brain areas are stimulated with both texting and using heroin.
Our Older Daughter reports that at summer camp, even though electronic gizmos weren't permitted, some girls were smuggling in cell phones. She woke up at midnight one night and heard one of the girls stealthily texting. Midnight, for pete's sake. At summer camp.
Meanwhile, many teens have a working vocabulary of only 800 words. I believe there are chimps with a larger vocabulary than that.
These teens are our future, folks. Perhaps parents should introduce their children to a novel (literally) concept.
Statistics show 80 percent of all 15 to 18-year-olds own a cell phone. And the rate of texting has sky rocketed 600 percent in three years. The average teen sends 3,000 texts a month.
This apparently fits all the definitions of an addition.
Neuroimaging studies show the same brain areas are stimulated with both texting and using heroin.
Our Older Daughter reports that at summer camp, even though electronic gizmos weren't permitted, some girls were smuggling in cell phones. She woke up at midnight one night and heard one of the girls stealthily texting. Midnight, for pete's sake. At summer camp.
Meanwhile, many teens have a working vocabulary of only 800 words. I believe there are chimps with a larger vocabulary than that.
These teens are our future, folks. Perhaps parents should introduce their children to a novel (literally) concept.
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