Shakespeare Would Be Rolling In His Grave If He Saw How People Wrote Today

Communication isn't an option. Everybody communicates with a myriad of people in countless ways every day. Communication occurs both orally and in written form. The typical person wakes up in the morning and switches on the news. An anchor communicates important stories, traffic and weather. When the newspaper is read, recent stock activity, upcoming events, and current events are communicated to the reader. When in a car, the driver communicates with other drivers by activating turn signals. Road signs communicate important information. Stop. Yield. Right Turn Only. Gas Ahead. Slow Children Playing. Blind Drive. Everyone needs to be able to communicate effectively. If a person wants to be taken seriously when communicating orally, he or she needs to be able to speak clearly, confidently and concisely. If a person wants to be taken seriously in the written form, he or she must write sentences that are appropriately structured and have little to no spelling or grammatical errors. Between instant messaging, text messages, emails, and the excessive use of abbreviations and acronyms, people have become lazy and have aborted the English Language.

I blog on a local news station's website. That is to say, I post comments about reported stories. Some of the comments left by bloggers are posted for shock value. Other comments are quite insightful. Many comments are so riddled with errors they are difficult to read. It's even more difficult to take the person seriously. Below is an example of such a comment. To offer some background: the story reported the death of a woman and the injury of a man after they hit a deer while they were riding a motorcycle. Both the man and the woman had been drinking, neither were wearing helmets and the man, who was operating the bike, was driving at excessive speeds. Many bloggers commented that these two individuals brought this tragedy onto themselves because they had made bad decisions. Another blogger, who for some reason was very sensitive about this story, protested. This is actually the third comment she posted on that story.

"show me where i said it was ok to drink and drive open ur eyes all u do is judge without knowing thats IGNORANT 3 children lost there mother where is the compassion for these kids grow up"

I had to read this a few times in order to fully understand it. It almost sounds as if she were sobbing inconsolably and directly scribed what she was vocalizing. When we speak, our words and sentences blend together. Our brains are able to sort this out through our auditory ability, but visually it is more difficult to decipher. Therefore, proper grammar, sentence structure and spelling is necessary. I count at least 19 errors which consist of grammar, spelling, structure, punctuation and malapropisms. Because I'm anal, I've rewritten this woman's comment so it's intelligible.

"Show me where I said it was ok to drink and drive. Open your eyes. All you do is judge without knowing; that's being ignorant. Three children lost their mother. Where is the compassion for these kids? Grow up!"

A few punctuations and spelling corrections later the comment suddenly becomes more perceptive. Perhaps this woman simply did not possess the skill to write. If this be the case, how did she manage school (if she graduated)? As I recall, all twelve years of school involved some form of writing. Each year I would learn a new skill and the next year I'd build upon that. By my senior year, I had mastered writing. Even if a person doesn't master it, we all learn through rote and repetition, so how is it possible for a person to omit basic punctuation and spelling after twelve years of writing? What's more surprising is most writing programs offer spell check and grammar check. Even if a person lacks the skill he or she can simply click one button, and that button will find mistakes which can then be corrected. Was this woman simply being lazy? If this be the case, how can she be taken seriously when she can't be bothered to put in the effort to effectively communicate in written form?

Other computer speak that drives me mad is when numbers and single letters substitute words.

"B4 u leave 2day b sure u call me. i want 2 get 2getha with u if ur free."

I've been blessed with an abundance of friends and family, and none of them aborts the English language in such a lazy and moronic manner. To be honest, I don't think I could have a close relationship with a person who wrote to me like that. I'd never take them seriously. I'd read their letter and think to myself, "My God! How much time are you saving, really, by typing '2' instead of 'to', or 'ur' instead of 'your' or 'you're'? Are you trying to be clever or silly, because I just find it annoying. If I speak with you, will you speak with equal ineptitude? I worry it'll be damaging to my ears..."

I Don't Care That You Have Kids

I can't have children. Well I can, my husband can't. We will not be doing any type of fertilization treatment and adoption has not been expedient or optimistic. When my husband's infertility was confirmed, and I accepted I would never give birth, I began to notice that the world seemed to award mothers and pregnant women with unfair favoritism. My observation began when I stood in the checkout lines at the grocery store and eyeballed the tabloids. Every celebrity, it seemed, was pregnant. Magazine after magazine reported pregnant celebrities, their protruding bellies profiled in calm artistic photographs, and nearly each headline reading "We couldn't be happier!!!!" These women were being celebrated because they were about to become mothers and their delight wounded me.

I then noticed the TV airing commercials that catered to mothers. Are you a mom? Get ideas for recipes, or coupons for groceries here. I like cooking, and groceries are expensive for me, too. Am I unworthy simply because have no children? Even the grocery store itself segregated me one dark and stormy night. I arrived at the store and was fortunate to find a spot close the entrance. This was perfect as I just needed to grab a couple things and I'd be in and out within a minute. I wouldn't have to take a long walk under the pouring rain in the cold night. However, when I rounded the turn, my headlights shone upon a sign stating the parking space was reserved for women with children. I could walk in the rain? I could stand being in the cold longer? It was safer for me to walk in the dark because I was childless? NO! I could have parked in that space but I chose not to. Although it offered equal convenience to me as it did to a mother of a dozen children, I knew a mother responsible for a child would be more inconvenienced than I'd be if parked in a space further away. Damn my empathy.

When I joined Facebook I quickly observed my friends and family updating their statuses quipping phrases such as "Being a mom is the best job in the world". Oh, all the esoteric experiences to which I'd never be privy. Profile pictures consist of their children or ultrasounds. New photographs are posted daily of my loved one's children as they advance into different stages of development or as they embark on an exciting family adventure. Although I enjoy hearing about these exciting events, a part of me is embittered because I will never be able to share in that joy with my husband.

I blog on the website of a local news station. Many of those leaving comments often include the phrase "as a mother..." as though this fact alone will further validate her opinion. She could write the dumbest response to a reported story, but because she is "a mother" she suddenly becomes insightful and other bloggers will agree with her. If I post something on the contrary, and offer facts to back up my opinion, my comments might get disregarded by other bloggers because I'm not a mother and I couldn't possibly understand. This isn't the only place I hear: "You obviously don't have any children." It's an absurd knee-jerk response to my ordinary opinions and routines. If I say my house is always clean I "obviously don't have any children." This is asinine; plenty of parents can keep a clean house and raise children. In fact, parents should keep their house clean. I'll admit, it's got to be tough to keep up with it after all the cooking, laundry, feeding, burping, diaper changing, but on the other hand, how hard is it to put stuff away or clean house for an hour or two when the baby is napping? If the child is too old for napping, then he or she will be old enough to be given "big helper" chores. Blaming a dirty house on having children simply encourages laziness.

When we are born we're all given certain expectations. One of those expectations is that we will have children. All my life I imagined what it would be like to be pregnant. I bought children's books with the anticipation I'd be able to read them to my children. I met the man of my dreams, and we shared our views on child rearing and knew we would be good, consistent parents. I look at my present life and mentally juxtapose it against how I imagined my life would be at 30 years old. Sadly, it's a little disappointing. The house my husband and I bought seems as hollow as me. Children will not run down its halls. Children will not play in the yard. Children will not help decorate the Christmas tree. Children will not host sleep-overs or birthday parties in their bedrooms. I will never experience watching my children as they excitedly open presents. I will never receive hand-made cards that say: "I love you Mom". I'll never even be called mom. Never, never, never. My visions have become ghosts and this breaks my heart.

I don't care that you have kids. It doesn't make you any more special in my book. Although my husband and I are childless we can still have rewarding and enriching lives. In fact, we are determined to be the couple who will strike envy in the hearts of our childbearing friends. The couple who, at a whim, can just get up and leave for an adventure. The couple who can be up late or spend money a little more loosely because we don't have children. We want people to say to us "I wish I could do that, but you know, we've got the kids."