The title of this blog entry is not gripping to everyone, I know, but it is something I think about way more than I should, so it seems like an obvious blog post to me. This is one of those moments where I admit that I do something I don't normally like to do, which is cast blame on a younger generation. I really try hard not to fall into the "kids these days" trap; assuming that the generation behind mine is terrible about (enter topic here) and that my generation was far superior about that particular topic. There are many reasons to avoid this kind of thinking, so I do my darndest, but when it comes to apostrophes, I can't help myself. Apostrophes make me so crazy that I'm ready to abandon my principles to try and intervene before it's too late.
First, let me explain why thinking the generation behind yours in worse than you were when you were a kid is wrong and bad. It's wrong because they are not worse than we were. Every generation is annoyed by younger people, with their energy, their exuberance, their attitudes that they are invincible and will never get old like us. That makes sense, because youthful naivete and enthusiasm is annoying. But this generation of kids is not more annoying in its youthiness than we were (thank you, Stephen Colbert, for giving us "truthiness," the inspiration for my new word), it is simply a different kind of youthiness, which comes across as more annoying to us older folks.
Setting aside the notorious and extremely rare occassions like Columbine (which are also probably not indicative of a more violent youth today, but actually more reflective of a larger population and more extensive media coverage that makes these events seem more likely), there is little difference between how kids act generation to generation. Kids are not louder or more disrespectful than they were when we were kids, we were just kids and didn't realize how loud and disrespectful we were. Kids aren't more violent today than they were when we were kids; every generation of kids since the beginning of time has delighted in beating the crap out of each other with sticks. Kids aren't lazier than they were when we were kids, they just have better ways to entertain themselves while sitting on their rear ends than we did and have far superior hand-eye coordination to my generation (thanks be to Super Mario, or whatever newfangled video game the kids are playing today). Kids are still just kids, with a different set of toys than we had.
The good news is that kids really haven't changed over the years. The bad news is that grown ups haven't either, with their wishing for things to be the way they were when we were kids. This "kids these days" attitude has been around for a very long time. In 79 A.D., Mt. Vesuvius covered Pompeii in volcanic ash, freezing the city in time for archeologists to discover many years later. Those archeologists found a lot of vulgar graffiti, along with at least one complaint (in the form of graffiti) about the amount of graffiti on the walls in Pompeii. While that complaint could have come from a young person, I'm betting even money it was someone who was annoyed by those pesky Pompeiian kids.
I admit I have little to no proof that I'm right about my "kids are kids" theory, but I think it's true, and it's my blog, so I get to say it like I mean it. Except that I have found myself slipping into the vortex recently, and I am here to confess my sins and vent about my frustration. My one solace is that my concern for the younger generation does not condemn their character, ethics, or values, it has more to do with their use of apostrophes. You read it right, apostrophes. Kids today (or more accurately, people today, because the affliction appears to be terribly contagious and is spreading into more mature generations) have an affection for apostrophes that knows no bounds, and they sprinkle them into their writing with reckless abandon.
I don't really know why apostrophes are so abused. It might be the more relaxed grammatical standards in e-mail or texting, it might be that grade school teachers have decided that the battle is too daunting to teach students about appropritate apostrophe usage, or it might be that there is some sort of apostrophe aphrodisiac in the water supply that I have not yet tasted that makes people slaves to the apostrophe. Whatever the culprit, the result is that people use apostrophes totally incorrectly with a gleeful abandon that boggles the mind. It seems that some think that every s needs an apostrophe, because I've read sentences like "the tree's are beautiful when in bloom" and "my hand's are killing me!" I just don't think this sort of thing happened as much when I was a kid.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's been happening all along and I just never noticed. Maybe that graffiti in Pompeii was riddled with inappropriate apostrophes, but I do feel strongly that it's gotten worse. And it makes me so crazy I could scream. It just looks so . . . wrong.
And so begins my "love the apostrophe less" campaign. Please use them responsibly (to indicate possessives, such as "Annie's ball," "the Davis' front door," or "the tree's bark is rough," or a conjunctive, like shortening "it is" to "it's") or not at all. A lack of an apostrophe looks much better than an apostrophe out of place. And please let a restaurant manager know when you see an error on a menu, because you will. Whatever you do, though, please respect the proper use of the apostrophe and set an example for the "kids these days," because things really are getting worse, and it's annoying.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Day 2
I have all sorts of ideas about which to blog, which has actually made it hard to choose one. I think I'll go with an observation I made a few days ago that marries the two things I probably think about most; the law and my kids. Don't worry, my kids didn't get busted; my thought actually has more to do with how lawyers rely on the law to represent their clients and how kids think. Turns out, there's a ton of overlap, which is one reason why I think non-lawyers start to hate lawyers so much. Confused? Me, too. Here's the story:
I was talking with the little boy who lives next door, who is six years old and a very sweet, very high-energy youngster. He has a younger brother, who is four, which is the same age as my son, and the three little boys play together frequently. I was standing on my side of the fence that encloses the neighbors' yard, chatting with the six-year-old, who had climbed up the six-foot-high fence to see into our yard. I suggested that he shouldn't be on the fence, because his mom had told him not to climb it the other day (within earshot of me, unfortunately for him), and he said, "oh, I thought she just meant the fence over there." With that, he pointed a few feet away, to a part of the same fence upon which he was standing.
Well, I know that she meant the whole fence, and he does, too. The part of the fence that runs north-south along their property line is as off-limits to climbing as the part of the fence that runs east-west along the property line. But in his kid's mind, this is a legitimate defense to his clear (to me, and certainly his mother, if she'd witnessed it) violation of the rule. He acknowledged the rule, accepted its validity, and claimed to not be in violation of it. In essence, he was challenging my and his mother's definition of the word "fence."
This is exactly what lawyers do every day. They expose ambiguities in the law and seek to clarify it in a way that protects their clients. Don't get me wrong, I don't disagree with this tactic, in fact, I teach my students to embrace and exalt it. In fact, I don't even think it's right to characterize attacking legal ambiguity as a "tactic," it is a lawyer's duty and ethical responsibility to point out where the law is unclear and help courts make it clearer by deciding whether their client violated the law (or deserves a damages award, or whatever). But it's this idea of challenging what "fence" means that gets people angry with lawyers, probably because they've heard their kids try the same thing with maddening frequency and perhaps disingenuous intent, and they don't want to accept it when an adult does the same thing.
Therein lies the rub. What kids do when they try to defend themselves by pushing the definition of what "fence" means is ask for the adult to whom they are speaking to take a leap of logic (as in, we can all agree that each 36 inch section of the fence is a different fence, right?) with which we cannot, in good conscience, agree. But lawyers (well, good ones who take cases responsibly and refrain from pushing the law past its logical limits (and I would argue most lawyers are responsible in this respect)) generally know better than to ask a court to take giant logical leaps; instead, they seek clarity from the court. Clarity in the law is a good thing; it's what the founders of our legal system wanted to achieve when they chose to craft an adversarial, common law system that would encourage lawyers to represent their clients zealously and reach a just result. In case you're like me and need something concrete to give this discussion context, read on, dear reader.
Here's an example: A local school zone in my town has some fancy speed limit signs that pop open when the school zone rules are in effect (speed limit drops to 15 m.p.h.), and close when they are not. The posted speed limit is 30 m.p.h., which is the speed you are driving when the school zone rules take effect and the sign pops open above your car, instantly dropping the speed limit to 15 m.p.h. At that same moment, a police officer pulls out behind you and clocks you as you begin to decelerate, but it's too late, you've just been nabbed for speeding in a school zone (ouch - expensive ticket and insurance premium). It's not fair, you'd cry, and you'd be right. But to some, a lawyer defending you is defending someone who speeds in school zones, not someone who is helping clarify how many seconds drivers have to adjust their speed when a new speed limit takes effect.
I guess my point here is that while lawyers and kids often employ the same arguments to protect their (or their client's) interests, it's not fair to assume that lawyers are engaging in juvenile tactics to make their case. The similarity comes from the universality and legitimacy of a defense that points out that the rule was too murky to put anyone on notice that he or she might violate it with certain behavior. So the little boy next door's attempted defense was doomed to fail because his mother did a very nice job of constructing a rule that could not be attacked as ambiguous (don't climb the fence). He just needs a few years and some law school classes to help him figure out the better angle ("I forgot" often works better in kid world, although it doesn't work for the court). So don't be mad at lawyers for engaging in juvenile arguments, be impressed by your kids and their clever legal arguments (but punish them all the same, otherwise they'll just keep climbing fences and break their faces).
I was talking with the little boy who lives next door, who is six years old and a very sweet, very high-energy youngster. He has a younger brother, who is four, which is the same age as my son, and the three little boys play together frequently. I was standing on my side of the fence that encloses the neighbors' yard, chatting with the six-year-old, who had climbed up the six-foot-high fence to see into our yard. I suggested that he shouldn't be on the fence, because his mom had told him not to climb it the other day (within earshot of me, unfortunately for him), and he said, "oh, I thought she just meant the fence over there." With that, he pointed a few feet away, to a part of the same fence upon which he was standing.
Well, I know that she meant the whole fence, and he does, too. The part of the fence that runs north-south along their property line is as off-limits to climbing as the part of the fence that runs east-west along the property line. But in his kid's mind, this is a legitimate defense to his clear (to me, and certainly his mother, if she'd witnessed it) violation of the rule. He acknowledged the rule, accepted its validity, and claimed to not be in violation of it. In essence, he was challenging my and his mother's definition of the word "fence."
This is exactly what lawyers do every day. They expose ambiguities in the law and seek to clarify it in a way that protects their clients. Don't get me wrong, I don't disagree with this tactic, in fact, I teach my students to embrace and exalt it. In fact, I don't even think it's right to characterize attacking legal ambiguity as a "tactic," it is a lawyer's duty and ethical responsibility to point out where the law is unclear and help courts make it clearer by deciding whether their client violated the law (or deserves a damages award, or whatever). But it's this idea of challenging what "fence" means that gets people angry with lawyers, probably because they've heard their kids try the same thing with maddening frequency and perhaps disingenuous intent, and they don't want to accept it when an adult does the same thing.
Therein lies the rub. What kids do when they try to defend themselves by pushing the definition of what "fence" means is ask for the adult to whom they are speaking to take a leap of logic (as in, we can all agree that each 36 inch section of the fence is a different fence, right?) with which we cannot, in good conscience, agree. But lawyers (well, good ones who take cases responsibly and refrain from pushing the law past its logical limits (and I would argue most lawyers are responsible in this respect)) generally know better than to ask a court to take giant logical leaps; instead, they seek clarity from the court. Clarity in the law is a good thing; it's what the founders of our legal system wanted to achieve when they chose to craft an adversarial, common law system that would encourage lawyers to represent their clients zealously and reach a just result. In case you're like me and need something concrete to give this discussion context, read on, dear reader.
Here's an example: A local school zone in my town has some fancy speed limit signs that pop open when the school zone rules are in effect (speed limit drops to 15 m.p.h.), and close when they are not. The posted speed limit is 30 m.p.h., which is the speed you are driving when the school zone rules take effect and the sign pops open above your car, instantly dropping the speed limit to 15 m.p.h. At that same moment, a police officer pulls out behind you and clocks you as you begin to decelerate, but it's too late, you've just been nabbed for speeding in a school zone (ouch - expensive ticket and insurance premium). It's not fair, you'd cry, and you'd be right. But to some, a lawyer defending you is defending someone who speeds in school zones, not someone who is helping clarify how many seconds drivers have to adjust their speed when a new speed limit takes effect.
I guess my point here is that while lawyers and kids often employ the same arguments to protect their (or their client's) interests, it's not fair to assume that lawyers are engaging in juvenile tactics to make their case. The similarity comes from the universality and legitimacy of a defense that points out that the rule was too murky to put anyone on notice that he or she might violate it with certain behavior. So the little boy next door's attempted defense was doomed to fail because his mother did a very nice job of constructing a rule that could not be attacked as ambiguous (don't climb the fence). He just needs a few years and some law school classes to help him figure out the better angle ("I forgot" often works better in kid world, although it doesn't work for the court). So don't be mad at lawyers for engaging in juvenile arguments, be impressed by your kids and their clever legal arguments (but punish them all the same, otherwise they'll just keep climbing fences and break their faces).
Monday, June 15, 2009
Getting Started
I was on my hands and knees on the kitchen floor, scraping up bits of detritus that have been accumulating for several months, when it hit me: "I should start a blog!" I know you think that is the most logical place to decide to start a blog, but in case it's not so clear to everyone, allow me to explain. First, it is mindless work, which always gets me thinking about random things that often result in more work for me or my husband. Second, the scraping of spot-welded bits of onion skin and sparkly things from my son's school craft projects made me reconsider whether the people I pay to clean my house every other week and who had just done a full cleaning less than four days ago are actually relieving us of our cleaning duties so we can do other "important" things, like work. Third, I was fully aware that scraping up the bits of crud really didn't need my attention, that they weren't such a pox on my house, and that I was really doing it to avoid writing, which is what I should be doing every day, for hours, over the summer.
The thing is this: I am a law professor. I profess the law for nine months a year, and when I'm not professing, I am supposed to be writing about interesting (to hopefully more people than just me) legal topics that are Timely and Important. Don't get me wrong, I do write, and I am pretty dedicated to doing it daily over the summer, but sometimes I get bored with my topic, or decide to goof off with my kids, or have an overwhelming need to scape up sticky bits from my kitchen floor, and I lose my focus. Remembering that I always focus on writing better when I start writing something, anything, it occurred to me that I should do some finger warm ups by starting a blog. And voila, c'est fini (my apologies to those of you who speak French for my mangling of such a beautiful language).
In addition to teaching, I also have two kids and a husband. I hate the characterization of them as another "job," because I don't own the idea that I serve two masters (the law school and my family). It's not that having a family doesn't result in more responsibilities for me than I would have if I didn't have a family, it's just that I've always hated the characterization of "wife" and "mother" as some sort of job description that every woman must understand is her rightful position (with the attendant bad boss complaints and griping about terrible pay that many jobs create) the moment she marries or gives birth. I don't hear men talking about family responsibilities as a second full-time job, even if they are. I guess I've never really liked the idea of being defined by my status as a wife and mother, even though being each of those things has made me happier than any old job could ever hope to.
So, add up that I'm happily married (but am an ardent believer in women's rights and have lots of opinions about how women treat, and are treated in, their marriages), have two incredible kids (who are in daycare all day, despite my feelings that they would be better off with less time there and more time with me and my husband), teach in law school (and have tons of thoughts on the law, teaching, and the rampant abuse of apostrophes), and need an excuse to write fun stuff that gets in the writing mood and you've got a blog. Oh yeah, and I randomly get really cranked about political/legal/mommy/career issues, as you can see from the parentheticals in the preceding sentence, and feel like I need a place to vent, or just share, my thoughts, so there should be no shortage of stuff about which to write. I'm sure you, dear reader, are delighted. Of course, that's assuming that you, dear reader, exist, which is not at all a safe bet, but is an assumption I'll need to make to satisfy my ego and encourage me to press on in writing about Timely and Important political/legal/mommy/career issues. So, stay tuned, imaginary friend, if you care to know what I think about an array of things, but I won't blame you if you find something better to do, like scraping the crud off your kitchen floor.
The thing is this: I am a law professor. I profess the law for nine months a year, and when I'm not professing, I am supposed to be writing about interesting (to hopefully more people than just me) legal topics that are Timely and Important. Don't get me wrong, I do write, and I am pretty dedicated to doing it daily over the summer, but sometimes I get bored with my topic, or decide to goof off with my kids, or have an overwhelming need to scape up sticky bits from my kitchen floor, and I lose my focus. Remembering that I always focus on writing better when I start writing something, anything, it occurred to me that I should do some finger warm ups by starting a blog. And voila, c'est fini (my apologies to those of you who speak French for my mangling of such a beautiful language).
In addition to teaching, I also have two kids and a husband. I hate the characterization of them as another "job," because I don't own the idea that I serve two masters (the law school and my family). It's not that having a family doesn't result in more responsibilities for me than I would have if I didn't have a family, it's just that I've always hated the characterization of "wife" and "mother" as some sort of job description that every woman must understand is her rightful position (with the attendant bad boss complaints and griping about terrible pay that many jobs create) the moment she marries or gives birth. I don't hear men talking about family responsibilities as a second full-time job, even if they are. I guess I've never really liked the idea of being defined by my status as a wife and mother, even though being each of those things has made me happier than any old job could ever hope to.
So, add up that I'm happily married (but am an ardent believer in women's rights and have lots of opinions about how women treat, and are treated in, their marriages), have two incredible kids (who are in daycare all day, despite my feelings that they would be better off with less time there and more time with me and my husband), teach in law school (and have tons of thoughts on the law, teaching, and the rampant abuse of apostrophes), and need an excuse to write fun stuff that gets in the writing mood and you've got a blog. Oh yeah, and I randomly get really cranked about political/legal/mommy/career issues, as you can see from the parentheticals in the preceding sentence, and feel like I need a place to vent, or just share, my thoughts, so there should be no shortage of stuff about which to write. I'm sure you, dear reader, are delighted. Of course, that's assuming that you, dear reader, exist, which is not at all a safe bet, but is an assumption I'll need to make to satisfy my ego and encourage me to press on in writing about Timely and Important political/legal/mommy/career issues. So, stay tuned, imaginary friend, if you care to know what I think about an array of things, but I won't blame you if you find something better to do, like scraping the crud off your kitchen floor.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)