Fighting the Power

Last week, at an academic conference, the Solipsist sat in on a presentation by a professor who had done research on the role of the brain in learning.

That doesn't sound right. ANYhoo. . . .

He spoke about things like the importance of sleep. Apparently, in order to truly learn anything, humans need a minimum of six UNINTERRUPTED hours of sleep. During the first two hours, the brain downloads information gathered throughout the course of the day. The middle two hours are devoted to categorization; in fact, one theory of dreams is that they are the brain's attempt to make sense of the day's various and sundry pieces of data: Since our brains like to categorize, they make strange "connections" between disparate events in an attempt to synthesize information, resulting in odd juxtapositions like squirels riding motorcycles. In the final two hours, the brain actually "rehearses" the new information.

What this means for people like the Solipsist who has, literally, not gotten six hours of uninterrupted sleep for as long as he can remember is troubling to say the least.

One of the more interesting points the speaker made was that emotions play a major role in learning. Specifically, we learn things better if we have an emotional reaction to them. So, for example, a literature teacher might begin a discussion of Hamlet by getting students to think about a time when they had to make an important decision and were unable to act decisively. By triggering an emotional memory, the teacher makes the students more receptive to the work at hand.

But what's a basic writing teacher supposed to do when he has to engage students about grammar? How visceral an impact can subject-verb agreement have?

We wrestled with this question as we prepared to begin a unit on verbs. Suddenly, we had an epiphany:

"OK, everybody, why do you need to know about subject-verb agreement?"

"Why DO we need to know about subject-verb agreement, Mr. S.?"

"We asked you first!"

"Yo, Mr. S., how come you keep callin' yourself 'we'?"

"Don't change the subject. So, come on, why do you have to know about grammar and run-on sentences and subject-verb agreement?"

"Because it's important."

"Why?"

"So that you can understand what we're saying."

"Oh, come on. That's not true. Look, if one of you came in to class and said, 'Mr. S., I be really tired, today,' do you really think we wouldn't know what you meant?"

"No."

"So why do you need to know this stuff?"

"So that you can understand what we're saying."

(Solipsist smacks his forehead with his hand and grumbles.) "Guess again."

"'Cause we just have to know."

"Why?"

"So that we pass the test."

"Close. But that's incidental."

Finally, a woman sitting in the back row spoke up with what we're sure she considered a smart-alecky answer: "So that you can get grant money."

"Wait! Yes, stop. What do you mean?"

"Well, like, if you're applying for a grant or somethin', you need to be writing correctly otherwise no one'll give you any money."

"Why not?"

"Well, because they'll think you're ignorant."

Success!

"Yes, because THEY'll think you're ignorant. Understand this, folks, good grammar has very little to do with the ability to be understood. Ninety-nine percent of what you say is perfectly clear, whether you're using completely correct grammar or not. But the main reason--the MAIN reason--why you need to use correct grammar is because the people who run the world expect it. It's politics, people. It's power. And if you want to seize the power, you'd better be able to use the weapons of the powerful. Fair? Maybe not. But the only way you're ever going to have the power to change the system is to beat the system at its own game."

Hey, righteous indignation is an emotion, right?