Geek Girl part II

For all my fellow logophiles (word lovers) I found yet another webiste: askOxford.com

My son asked me what comes after "twice". I said I thought it was thrice, but not sure what was after that. Well, there isn't anything after that. Just once, twice, thrice. I then stumbled upon other entries and found something about the longest word in the English language. Is it sick that I already knew it was pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis? It's a rare lung disease caused by breathing chalk dust. It is sick isn't it?

Blame in on Mrs. Crow, my 7th grade English teacher at Ramona Jr. High. It was to help prove her point that we needed to learn our Greek and Latin word roots. See, pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is really just a lot of parts. pneu-mono-ultra-micro-scopic-silico-volcano-coniosis. simple really. She also taught us that there was "a rat" in separate.

I think my love for reading and writing, minus the 'rithmetic started with these quirky secondary English teachers. Ms. Frankin in 8th grade (the first "Ms." I ever knew) taught me that you didn't want to drag your comma after your "but". Mrs. Palmer made us read Shakespeare our Freshman year and all I really remember was her talking about a "buuuud" but she made it seem kinda cool. Mrs. Tanner in high school was hated by most of the school, but I LOVED her. She wore these terrible outfits with crazy hats. And she had this great ink stamp that she used on papers. In bright red it shouted to the world that your paper was "TACKY"! (she also used it to sign our yearbooks)

Here I am in my 30s and thinking I am really cool cuz I know the longest word in the English language. Thanks Mrs. Crow! and Ms. Franklin and Mrs. Palmer and Mrs. Tanner! So who made an impression on you?


Nikki said...

I can't believe you remember our English teachers names so easily. Of course I remember them now that you wrote about them- but I would have to look up an old yearbook if you asked me the names of almost all of our teachers. I do think about that little english lesson every time I spell separate (a rat).

Anonymous said...

Mr. Sawyer was my Jr. High English teacher. He was poised, arch, and effeminate. The playground rumor was that he modeled mens underwear in catalogs. My sister remembers him once telling a girl who was putting on lip gloss (or something) in class to "put away her beauty accouterments." Most kids hated him because his class was hard - like having to diagram sentences (remember that?!) but I always thought he was great. He had us act out plays in class, took us on field trips to museums and factories, and had us make a class magazine about tolerance and unity among all the people of the world. He taught me that language is relevant and exciting. It's because of him that I almost (and may still one day, who knows!) became a middle school English teacher.


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