The Vine: February 5, 2003
Hey Sars,
I just wanted to point out a really good link to No-Ana (who wrote about her
friend’s spouse and her ED): www.something-fishy.org.
It’s a pro-recovery website for eating disorders and contains a ton of
helpful information. It’s really hard to find anything online that isn’t
tainted with the “pro-ana” stuff, but this is a well-known online resource
for those looking into more information about recovering from EDs.
Maybe No-Ana can at least print out some definitions of what constitutes an
eating disorder for her friend and show him that “well, she eats” doesn’t
mean she does not have some serious issues.
G
Dear G,
Excellent idea — thanks for the input.
Hi Sars,
You’re so good with questions regarding grammar, I was hoping that I could get your input on a question that has been a consistent point of contention for me and some of my coworkers. I work in game design and production, and a large part of my job requires the generation of game design documents, functional specification, and walkthroughs of game experiences. When writing these documents, it is an oft-used device to refer to “the player” or “the user,” and at some point or another, one has to refer to the player as either a him or her, or some folks use “they” or even “it.” For example, a sentence might read, “When the player gets to the door, [he/she/it/they] must press the X button to open it.”
In the past, I have solved this problem by using “he” in one section or chapter, and “she” in the next, and I’ve even alternated from paragraph to paragraph in short documents when it was necessary — but this can be confusing. Lately, I’ve just given in, and even though I find it annoying, just use “he.” There’s also the possibility, though I’ve never used it, that the solution lies with the use of “s/he” — I’ve seen this in action in a few manuals. However, I often get edits or comments from coworkers here asking me to use “they.” I just can’t take it anymore, Sars. I tell the folks I work with why I hate to use “they” (my reason is, “It’s incorrect”), but I have to be honest — I don’t really know that the use of “they” in this case is truly incorrect, it’s only something that I’ve heard tell of. Is it? What’s the rule, here?
Set me straight, sister.
Grammatically challenged
Dear Challenged,
Strictly speaking, the use of “they” is incorrect on a basic subject-verb agreement level. “They” is a third-person plural pronoun, and you shouldn’t use it in place of a third-person singular. On the other hand, the language only has one way to abstract the gender out of a third-person singular pronoun — “one” — and while it’s correct, it’s also absurdly stiff in most contexts, and as a result, the use of “they” to get around the problem has become common practice.
But should it have? And if it shouldn’t, how else do we write gender-neutrally without violating basic rules of the language? In your case, I would use “s/he.” The construction is on the arid side, but it’s technical writing, so that works better than it would in, say, a short story. Garner disagrees with me, calling that kind of “[t]ypographical gimmickry” faddish and annoying, and concludes that, although many Americans resist “they” as the solution here (whereas British English has more or less accepted it and moved on), it “promises to be the ultimate solution to the problem.”
Garner offers other solutions, including just pluralizing everything so that “they” becomes correct (i.e. “when users get to the door, they must…”) and repeating the noun instead of reverting to a pronoun (i.e. “when the user gets to the door, the user must…”), and advises writers to mix up the various ways of writing around the disagreement (using “who” and then a dependent clause, on and on and on). But he seems to think that the language is eventually going to change so that “they” is considered a correct response, and while I approve of that trend more grudgingly than he seems to, I think he’s probably right.
Short answer? It’s incorrect…but not for long. Unless you can find a non-awkward alternative that you can use consistently throughout the document, let it go.
Hi Sars,
I’m hoping to get some advice on how to deal with a messy family issue. While my mom and I have been living in Canada for ten years, my grandparents, quite elderly, remained in Ukraine. They are pretty frail, and I am faced with the fact that at some point there will be a death to deal with. My thought is, when the time comes, I’ll fly over, say goodbye as kindly as I can, console whichever grandparent is left, and while I’ll be sad as hell, I’m also grateful for the times we’ve had together.
Now here’s the messy part: My mom and I are completely estranged. I have refused to let her be part of my life for five years now. She’s devastated by this, but while I sympathize, I don’t feel I can even talk to her without several more years of therapy. There is a history of abuse and psycho behaviour, plus she’s deeply homophobic and I’m deeply queer, and basically I ran from her to salvage whatever sanity I have left. So how the hell do I deal with a funeral of one of my beloved grandparents and a basket-case, grief-stricken remaining grandparent while she’s there as well? Plus, afterwards, we’d have to figure out how to take care of said remaining grandparent, from over-freaking-seas. Don’t know how to do this. Thoughts?
Much appreciated,
Transcontinental Malaise
Dear Malaise,
Focus on your relationship with your grandparents, individually and together. Tune out the other static. Deal only with your grandparents — supporting them, letting them know how you feel — and ignore your mother as best you can.
I realize that you’ve written to me precisely because you don’t feel it’s possible to do that, but it’s possible. Just concentrate on the task at hand, namely bidding farewell to a loved one. Do that, and exactly that, for yourself and for the grandparent in question, and decline to deal with your mother’s bullshit. Use the same strategy for taking care of the surviving grandparent. Find out what that grandparent wants and needs, and respond to that, not to your mother.
It’s not about your mother. It’s not about you. When the time comes, repeat that to yourself like a mantra. Minimize your contact with her. Don’t take any bait she offers. After it’s all over, you can walk away from her again, but until you can do that, just grit your teeth and keep your eye on the ball.
Dear Sars,
I got my BA in May of 2000, and since then, I’ve been working as an admin
assistant in my chosen field. After two years, I’ve decided to apply to
graduate school. Teaching university has always been a goal of mine, but I
wasn’t ready to go right after undergrad. At this point in my life, I want
my MA (and eventually my Ph.D), and I want it BAD. I have a serious need to
return to my love of research and analysis.
This is all great. This is fine. I’m scared shitless (what if I don’t get
in? What if I’m not good enough? What if I’m not as smart as I thought?), but I think my anxiety is fairly normal. My applications are almost
completed, all of my records are ordered, I have two recommendations in the
bag. All of my ducks are in a row, it seems. Except they’re not.
The problem is my boss. I love my boss — he’s like a crazed professor (he
used to be one, in fact), and we have a terrific rapport. He’s told me
repeatedly that I’m too bright to be sitting in this cubicle doing mindless
crap. We’ve talked promotion many times, and he’s been a great advocate for
me. The promotions haven’t come (that’s another story altogether), but I’m
always making suggestions about projects I can do, responsibilities I can
take on, and he’s always supportive of me. Sounds great, right? Well, it
was.
You see, I asked my boss for a letter of recommendation. I told him
that I was applying to graduate school to see what my options were (which
was kind of a lie, but I’m trying to cover my ass in case I don’t get in),
and I told him I would understand if he did not want to write a letter for
me. His first response was, “Oh! Of course! I’d be happy to!” His SECOND
response: “But I don’t know if I should.”
He wants to “run it by” the CEO. My boss feels that writing the letter would
put him in a bad position if I end up staying, or if they end up offering me
a promotion and then I decide to leave anyway (which I would, but my boss
doesn’t know that). I asked how the CEO would find out, and my boss
dismissed that. Besides, the CEO is the one who keeps telling my boss that
he can’t afford to promote me. So, I feel stuck. Oh, and I won’t have an
answer until my boss gets back from Europe, which is in three weeks. In the
meantime, I’m supposed to wait it out and twiddle my thumbs. I can feel my
shoulders tensing up just thinking about it.
I’ve been considering telling my boss to forget it, that I’ll find someone
else. But the trouble is, no one else’s recommendation would be as
beneficial as his. He’s been my (only) supervisor for two years, he respects
me, he knows my potential, and he thinks very highly of me. Sars, this is my
future, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck this up. I’m SO frustrated
at my boss right now — a simple “no, I don’t feel comfortable” would have
been a hundred times better than this. Now I just feel resentful, and I have
fantasies about sticking it to him, which I’m sure I’ll get over soon. I’ve
been crying a little every day since we had the rec letter conversation. Two
days ago, I almost told him I would leave in July, grad school or no grad
school, because I can’t take the crap anymore; I’m sick of babysitting him
and other people, I’m sick of company politics, I’m sick of my brain wasting
away, and I’m sick of being promised things that never come to fruition.
What should I do? What would you do? Would you twiddle your thumbs anxiously
while waiting for an answer? Or would you just shrug your shoulders and try
to dig up another recommendation? Help!
Thanks,
Frustrated Applicant
Dear Applicant,
Breeeeeathe in. Breeeeeathe out. Green fields, green fields.
Okay. Tell your boss what you just told me. Well, the first part — leave off the bit about not wanting to babysit him anymore and blah blah blah. Adopt a regretful but firm tone and lay it out for him: “I think I should just tell you not to bother with it, because it’s taking too long and I don’t have that kind of time, but the thing is, I would really like you to write the rec because nobody else’s would work as well. I hope you decide to do it — and if you can’t, that’s okay, just tell me you don’t feel comfortable — but you need to give me your decision in forty-eight hours so that I can find someone else, and if you don’t, I’ll consider it a ‘no’ and make other arrangements. Sorry to put you on the spot like this, but it’s my future and I need to get on that.”
If he doesn’t respond in your favor, or at all, within two days, line up another rec. It’s not ideal, but honestly, I think he’s going to keep stringing you along and you’ll have to do that anyway. Set a deadline and stick to it.
Hi, Sars.
I feel weird asking you about this, but since your romantic life has
been so different from mine, I thought you might have some good insights
for me. My problem: I’m a woman in her thirties who has hardly ever dated
and barely been kissed. All my life I’ve wanted to find that special
man, but I rarely meet anyone I’m really interested in. I haven’t been
“in love” for years. When I have gone on dates, it’s always been
through a dating service or just casually — never with someone I felt
strongly about. And when it’s seemed as though a kiss was coming, I’ve
always panicked. I’ve never really enjoyed kissing.
I feel silly being so nervous at the simplest contact, and I can’t
decide whether I’m really scared of men and sex, or just haven’t found
the right man, or if it’s just beginner’s nerves since I didn’t do the
experimenting most others did as teens. Probably it’s some of all
three. To complicate things, I haven’t been trying much in recent years
to find anyone, because I feel so unattractive — I’m very overweight
(though I’ve been told I’m pretty). At one time I used a dating service
for big people, but I find I just don’t want to do that now. I think
one reason for my weight problem is a desire to avoid men. I’ve even
wondered if I’m really a lesbian, but I’ve never had a crush on another
woman, though I have sometimes found women attractive. Mentally I guess
I’m bi, leaning more towards hetero. But this is all in theory, of
course!
I’ve been in and out of psychotherapy for years (for various reasons),
I’ve journaled and prayed and shared about this with others, but I’ve
never gotten to the root of it. There is no past incident that I’m
aware of that would account for my fears — no sexual harassment, no
physical abuse. I did get teased a lot as a kid for being overweight,
and I’ve always felt different from everyone else because of my personal
interests and abilities. I’m not saying that to brag — I just want you
to understand that being smart has been an isolating factor for me, as
it is for many bright kids. I often found it hard to make close friends
or even be part of a group.
As for what I ultimately want — I still want to find Mr. Right (even
though it seems a large part of me wants to keep him at arm’s length!).
I’m not interested in casual sex, except out of personal curiosity. I
really always have been the type who wants to wait for marriage — but I
have to get started somehow!
What do you think, Sarah — am I totally abnormal? Do I sound like I
really even want to find someone, or do I just sound worried about being
celibate for life? And what would you suggest I do next? Thanks very
much for taking the time to read this.
Single in Philadelphia
Dear Philly,
Yes, you’re totally abnormal. Welcome to the club. It’s kind of crowded in here, what with the six billion other members, but your first drink is on us.
Okay, seriously. I have no idea whether you want to find love and closeness, or whether you dread love and closeness, or whether it’s a conflicted messy combination of both, or where any of that comes from. You have to sort that out on your own, or with your therapist, but more importantly, you have to accept it. It’s imperfect and frustrating, but it’s you. Yeah, you’ve got weird fears and neuroses. So does everyone else. Yeah, you don’t know what you want and you wouldn’t know what to do with it if you got it. Nobody else does either. It doesn’t make you abnormal or unlovable. It makes you you.
Listen up, folks. Never kissed a boy at age 25? Age 30? Age 40? Not abnormal. Mortally afraid of commitment? Not abnormal. Bad self-esteem, neurotic jealousy, feelings of isolation? Not abnormal. Not even unusual. I mean, do you-all read The Vine? Do you not see how many people, genuinely good people, people just like you, feel confused and crappy too? You want love. Of course you do. IT’S LOVE. You want it, and when you don’t get it or don’t know how to, you feel sad. Of course you do. IT’S SAD. That is NOT ABNORMAL, okay? Hurting animals and setting fire to things — that’s abnormal. Loneliness is not abnormal. Terror in the face of emotional intimacy is not abnormal. It’s no way to live, I don’t think, and when I tell people to work on that shit, it’s not because I think it’s bad or freakish that they feel that way. It’s because feeling that way sucks, and if you can find a way to feel good about yourself and to get past a fear or two, you should. Because you deserve it. Well, unless you kicked a puppy today, in which case you can fuck right off.
ANYWAY. Philly: Don’t think of yourself in terms of “normal.” “Normal” doesn’t exist. Think of yourself in terms of “happy.” Work towards that instead. Don’t talk yourself out of hope. You do have a few neuroses that you should keep working on, but they don’t make you bad or a weirdo. Okay, so maybe they do make you a weirdo. So what? Everyone’s a weirdo. Embrace it.
Tags: boys (and girls) grammar health and beauty the fam workplace
