Download ASSIGNMENTS: ENG1101: What Is Grammar? (Rodgers)

What Is Grammar?
Assignment
Professor Rodgers
1/ Please describe your understanding of the term grammar and the basis for that definition, e.g., I've
been told that I have bad grammar by teachers because I cannot spell well, etc.
2/ Look up the definition of grammar in a dictionary. Write down the definition. Please also
include the title of the dictionary from which you took the definition and the page number on which
the definition was found. For example: Definition of the term grammar. The Oxford American
College Dictionary (2002), p. 707.
2.5/ Read part or all of Chapter 2 in Good Writing Made Simple. After reading it, did you have any
questions? If so, please note them. After reading it, do you have a firm understanding of what the
parts of speech are? Please list them here:
3/ Please read the following three essays, which are appended below and that are available on the
WWW:
"Grammar" by Sandy Chung and Jeff Pullman
"What Is 'Correct' English?" by Edward Finegan
“Public Grammar and Private Grammar: The Social Orientation of Grammar” by Brock Haussaman
After reading EACH essay, please do the following:
a/ explain in one sentence what the overall purpose of each essay is
b/ explain in one or more paragraphs what you learned from each essay
c/ make a list of questions that you have regarding these essays or for these authors regarding the
topic of grammar
Grammar
Sandy Chung and Geoff Pullum
What Is Grammar?
People often think of grammar as a matter of arbitrary pronouncements (defining 'good' and 'bad'
language), usually negative ones like There is no such word as ain't or Never end a sentence with
a preposition. Linguists are not very interested in this sort of bossiness (sometimes called
prescriptivism). For linguists, grammar is simply the collection of principles defining how to put
together a sentence.
One sometimes hears people say that such-and-such a language 'has no grammar', but that is not
true of any language. Every language has restrictions on how words must be arranged to
construct a sentence. Such restrictions are principles of syntax. Every language has about as
much syntax as any other language. For example, all languages have principles for constructing
sentences that ask questions needing a yes or no answer, e.g. Can you hear me?, questions
inviting some other kind of answer,e.g. What did you see?, sentences that express commands,
e.g. Eat your potatoes!, and sentences that make assertions, e.g. Whales eat plankton.
Word Order
The syntactic principles of a language may insist on some order of words or may allow several
options. For instance, English sentences normally must have words in the order Subject-VerbObject. In Whales eat plankton, 'whales' is the subject, 'eat' is the verb, and 'plankton' is the
object. Japanese sentences allow the words to occur in several possible orders, but the normal
arrangement (when no special emphasis is intended) is Subject-Object-Verb. Irish sentences
standardly have words in the order Verb-Subject-Object. Even when a language allows several
orders of phrases in the sentence, the choice among them is systematically regulated. For
example, there might be a requirement that the first phrase refer to the thing you're talking about,
or that whatever the first phrase is, the second must be the main clause verb.
Not only does every language have syntax, but similar syntactic principles are found over and
over again in languages. Word order is strikingly similar in English, Swahili, and Thai (which
are utterly unrelated); sentences in Irish are remarkably parallel to those in Maori, Maasai, and
ancient Egyptian (also unrelated); and so on.
Word Structure
However, there is another aspect of grammar in which languages differ more radically, namely in
morphology, the principles governing the structure of words. Languages do not all employ
morphology to a similar extent. In fact they differ dramatically in the extent to which they allow
words to be built out of other words or smaller elements. The English word undeniability is a
complex noun formed from the adjective 'undeniable', which is formed from the adjective
'deniable', which is formed from the verb 'deny'. Some languages (like German, Nootka, and
Eskimo) permit much more complex word-building than English; others (like Chinese, Ewe, and
Vietnamese) permit considerably less.
Languages also differ greatly in the extent to which words vary their shape according to their
function in the sentence. In English you have to choose different pronouns ('they' versus 'them')
for Subject and Object (though there is no choice to be made with nouns, as in Whales eat
plankton). In Latin, the shapes of both pronouns and nouns vary when they are used as subjects
or objects; but in Chinese, no words vary in shape like this.
Although we have identified some differences between syntax and morphology, to some extent it
is a matter for ongoing research to decide what counts as morphology and what counts as syntax.
The answer can change as discoveries are made and theories improved. For instance, most
people—in fact, most grammarians—probably say that 'wouldn't' is two words: 'would' followed
by an informal pronunciation of 'not'. But if we treat 'wouldn't' as one word, then we can explain
why it is treated as one word in the yes/no question Wouldn't it hurt? Notice that we don't say
Would not it hurt? for Would it not hurt?, or Would have he cared? for Would he have cared? In
each case, the bad versions have two words before the subject. The syntactic principle for
English yes/no questions is that the auxiliary verb occurs before the subject.
If this is correct, by the way, then 'ain't' certainly is a word in English, and we know what kind:
It's an auxiliary verb (the evidence: We hear questions like Ain't that right?). English teachers
disapprove of 'ain't' (naturally enough, since it is found almost entirely in casual conversation,
never in formal written English, which is what English teachers are mostly concerned to teach).
But linguists are generally not interested in issuing pronouncements about what should be
permitted or what should be called what. Their aim is simply to find out what language
(including spoken language) is like.Even if you learned all the words of Navajo, and how they
are pronounced, you would not be able to speak Navajo until you also learned the principles of
Navajo grammar. There must be principles of Navajo grammar that are different from those of
other languages (because speakers of other languages cannot understand Navajo), but there may
also be principles of universal grammar, the same for all languages. Linguists cannot at present
give a full statement of all the principles of grammar for any particular language, or a statement
of all the principles of universal grammar. Finding out what they are is a central aim of modern
linguistics.
What is 'Correct' Language?
Edward Finegan
Should road signs read ‘Drive Slow’ or ‘Drive Slowly’? Which is grammatically correct: They
don’t have none or They don’t have any? Given ‘books’ as the plural of ‘book’ and ‘they’ as the
plural for ‘she’ and ‘he,’, what's wrong with ‘y’all’ and ‘yous’ as plurals for ‘you’? Are ‘between
you and I’ and ‘between you and me’ both right, and who decides what's right and wrong in
language, anyway? And who put ‘ain’t’ in the dictionary? Is English going to the dogs, and is
that what the fuss is all about?
Languages often have alternative expressions for the same thing (‘car’ and ‘auto’), and a given
word can carry different senses (‘river bank’ vs. ‘savings bank’) or function as different parts of
speech (‘to steal’--verb; ‘a steal’--noun). Because languages naturally adapt to their situations of
use and also reflect the social identities of their speakers, linguistic variation is inevitable and
natural. But given diverse forms, meanings, and uses, dictionary makers and grammarians must
choose what to include in their works--whose language to represent and for use in which kinds of
situations? In some nations, language academies have been established to settle such matters, as
with the French Academy, formed nearly four hundred years ago, but to date English speakers
have repudiated suggestions of a regulating body for their language. Instead, entrepreneurs like
Noah Webster have earned their living by writing dictionaries and grammars, usually with a mix
of description and prescription. Increasingly, though, scholarly grammars and dictionaries are
exclusively descriptive.
Descriptive vs. Prescriptive Grammar
Descriptivists ask, “What is English? “ …prescriptivists ask, “What should English be like?
Descriptive grammarians ask the question, “What is English (or another language) like--what are
its forms and how do they function in various situations?” By contrast, prescriptive grammarians
ask “What should English be like--what forms should people use and what functions should they
serve?” Prescriptivists follow the tradition of the classical grammars of Sanskrit, Greek, and
Latin, which aimed to preserve earlier forms of those languages so that readers in subsequent
generations could understand sacred texts and historical documents. Modern grammarians aim to
describe rather than prescribe linguistic forms and their uses. Dictionary makers also strive for
descriptive accuracy in reporting which words are in use and which senses they carry.
In order to write accurate descriptions, grammarians must identify which expressions are
actually in use. Investigating ‘slow’ and ‘slowly,’ they would find that both forms function as
adverbs, and they might uncover situational or social-group correlates for them. By contrast,
prescriptive grammarians would argue that ‘go slowly’ is the only correct grammatical form on
the grounds that it is useful to distinguish the forms of adverbs and adjectives, and 'slow' is the
only adjective form (a slow train), so ‘slowly’ should serve as the sole adverb form.
Descriptivists would point out that English has made no distinction between the adjective and
adverb forms of ‘fast’ for over five hundred years, but prescriptivists are not concerned about
that. As to “They don't have none’ or ‘any,’’ descriptivists would observe both forms in common
use, thereby demonstrating their grammaticality. Descriptivists might also note that different
social groups favor one expression or the other in conversation, while only the latter appears in
published writing. Prescriptivists have argued that such “double negatives” violate logic, where
two negatives make a positive; thus, according to this logic, “They don't have none” should mean
“They do have some” (which, descriptivists note, it clearly does not mean). On logical grounds,
then, prescriptivists would condemn “They don’t have none,” while descriptivists would
emphasize the conventional character of ways in which meaning is expressed.
Prescriptivists argue that despite educated usage, pronouns should have objective forms after
preposition
About ‘ain’t,’ if lexicographers find it in use in the varieties of English they aim to represent,
they give it a dictionary entry and describe its use. Prescriptivists who judge ‘Ain’t’ wrong or
inelegant might exclude it altogether or give it an entry with a prohibition. Likewise, ‘y’all’ is
frequently heard in the American South and ‘yous’ among working-class northeastern urban
residents of the United States, as well as elsewhere in the English-speaking world. In those
communities, a distinct word for plural you has proven useful. (Most prescriptivists would
condemn ‘yous’ because it is an innovation, disregarding the argument that distinct singular and
plural forms are desirable.) As to ‘between you and me’ and ‘between you and I,’, descriptivists
would note that both are used by educated speakers, though the latter seldom appears in edited
writing. Prescriptivists would argue that, despite educated usage, pronouns should have objective
forms after prepositions (“Give it to me/us/them”); thus, only “between you and me” is correct.
Who’s Right?
So what is right and wrong in language, and who decides? Some observers claim that the real
issue about linguistic right and wrong is one of deciding who wields power and who doesn't.
Viewing language as a form of cultural capital, they note that stigmatized forms are typically
those used by social groups other than the educated middle classes--professional people,
including those in law, medicine, and publishing. Linguists generally would argue that the
language of educated middle-class speakers is not better (or worse) than the language of other
social groups, any more than Spanish, say, is better or worse than French, Navaho better or
worse than Comanche, or Japanese better or worse than Chinese. They would acknowledge that
some standardization of form is useful for the variety of a language used, especially in print.
They would also insist, however, that expressions appearing in dictionaries and grammars are not
the only grammatical forms and may not be suitable for use in all circumstances. They are
merely the ones designated for use in circumstances of wider communication.
Is English falling apart?
Is English falling apart, then, as some prescriptivists claimed in their efforts to help mend it?
Well, the descriptivists’ answer is that English is indeed changing, as it must, but that such
change is not debilitating. In fact, English is now changing in exactly the same ways that have
contributed to making it the rich, flexible, and adaptable language so popular throughout the
world today. Living languages must change, must adapt, must grow. Shakespeare could not have
understood Chaucer without study, nor Chaucer the Beowulf poet. Whether change is good or
bad is not the question, descriptivists say, for change is inevitable. The only languages no longer
in flux are those no longer in use. The job of grammarians is to describe language as it exists in
real use. This includes describing the positive and negative values attached to different ways of
speaking.
Reprinted courtesy: Dr. Edward Finegan
Correct American Index
Suggested Reading/Additional Resources





Andersson, Lars G., and Peter Trudgill. 1990. Bad language. Cambridge, MA: Blackwell
Baron, Dennis. 1994. Guide to home language repair. Champaign, IL: National Council
of Teachers of English.
Cameron, Deborah. 1995. Verbal hygiene. London and New York: Routledge.
Finegan, Edward. 1980. Attitudes toward language usage. New York: Teachers College
Press.
Milroy, James, and Lesley Milroy. 1991. Authority in language. London and New York:
Routledge. 2nd edn.
Edward Finegan is professor of linguistics and law at the University of Southern California. He
is author of Language: Its Structure and Use, 4th ed. (Thomson Wadsworth, 2004) and Attitudes
toward English Usage (Teachers College Press, Columbia University, 1980) and co-editor (with
John R. Rickford) of Language in the USA (Cambridge University Press, 2004). He has written
extensively on register and style variation in English and contributed chapters on grammar and
usage in Britain and America to the Cambridge History of the English Language. His interests
range across usage, attitudes toward language, and style variation; he also serves as an expert
consultant in forensic linguistics.
Readings - Public Grammar and Private
Grammar: The Social Orientation of
Grammar
Brock Haussamen
Discussions of grammar are filled with polarities. From its long history as both a subject of the
schoolroom and an object of scholarly study, grammar leads to debates between prescriptive and
descriptive, linguistic grammar and traditional grammar, rules (traditional) versus rules
(linguistic), grammar and usage, correctness and error, Standard and vernacular, and so on. I
mention these here in order to brace the reader for the fact that I'm about to introduce yet another
duality, public grammar versus private grammar.
At one level the need for these new terms arises from the word grammar itself—that
resiliently popular (the word, if not the subject) but maddeningly ambiguous term. The term
refers most generally and consistently to the structure of the sentence and the categories of words
and word groups that make up that structure. But we speak of this structure and these categories
as existing not only in the language itself (the grammar of this sentence), but also in the head that
produces the language (each person's intuitive grammatical ability) and in certain studies of
language (a grammar book). Grammar can refer to language as it exists or to language as
people believe it ought to be. Because it seems unlikely that anyone is about to stop using the
word in some of these senses so that it can stand more clearly for the others, we have to choose
its modifiers carefully.
What all the current modifiers of the term grammar lack, I would argue, is reference to a
crucial aspect of the word's meaning, and that is its social context. Thanks to the growing body
of insights from linguistics, the contrast sharpens between what we know about how each
individual processes language and, at the other extreme, the conventions of written, public
literacy codified by traditional grammar, usage, and mechanics. We touch on these contrasts
countless times during discussions of grammar in education, and we need better handles to get a
grip on the topic. When teachers with a relatively traditional view of grammar discuss grammar
in the classroom, their concern is with the conventions of literacy handed down over generations.
(They say, "Many students can write creatively, but their grasp of grammar is weak. They
write fragments and run-ons, and they don't understand the parts of speech well enough to
correct those errors.") On other hand, when linguistically-oriented grammarians talk about
grammar in the classroom, they are thinking of the individual students' intuitive language ability
and of building on that ability through heightened awareness of language. (They say, "Students
already know grammar, and they have known it since they started talking. But we can teach
them about grammar, so they will have the language to discuss language and to understand how
it works.") Usually, both parties fail to appreciate the very different social dimensions of the
two approaches to grammar.
The failure is understandable. We have no ready terms for pointing to the place on the
social continuum—from the wiring of the solitary brain, to the individual in communication with
family and friends, to the cultural continuities of literacy—where any particular aspect of
grammar lies.
We have, of course, the two terms prescriptive grammar and descriptive grammar —
referring respectively to the rules of correctness and error and to the patterns of language as it
actually takes place, warts and all. These terms make a thoroughly vital distinction, it is true;
but as instruments for clarifying grammatical discussions, they suffer from a fatal handicap.
The words appear to be themselves descriptive, neutral, objective—but unfortunately they are
not. In actual usage, descriptive grammar is a positive term, prescriptive grammar a negative
one. The terms are usually used by descriptivists to distance themselves from prescription.
There are revealing exceptions. Last year on the ATEG (Assembly for the Teaching of English
Grammar) listserv one participant, an editor, asked about preferences regarding a certain
grammatical construction; mentioned what Quirk, Greenbaum, et al. had to say on the subject;
and then concluded with the point that the Comprehensive Grammar , as a descriptive grammar,
doesn't hold the same weight for some people that a prescriptive grammar does—and could
anyone direct him to a prescriptive grammar that dealt with the issue? At this slander on the
authority of descriptive grammar, a brief cyber-uproar ensued.
The incident revealed how uneven and unsuited the terms are as names that both parties
use. The labels do not operate on the kind of equal semantic footing that such a pair as
Democrat and Republican do, words that both political camps can accept comfortably to identify
both themselves and the opposite party. Descriptive and prescriptive share the kind of marked
contrast that characterizes a pair such as citizen and foreigner , terms that label a difference
almost entirely from one point of view, that express a strong preference, and that are spoken and
written mostly by the group that holds that point of view and preference. We need terms that
will do for grammar what Republican and Democrat do for politics—label broad, sociallyoriented contrasts in ways that are widely acceptable.
Many linguists think that the distinction between grammar and usage ought to do the job.
To linguists, grammar refers to syntactic structure, while all the do's and don'ts that students,
teachers, and the public at large worry about fall under the category of usage , the customary and
acceptable practices of language. But students, teachers, and the public at large don't often use
the term usage . They use grammar . They wonder if their grammar is correct. How is it that
grammar has become the umbrella term for the wide range of language norms? I think it is
because the word grammar connotes great authority, while the concept of usage conveys almost
none. Usage connotes ordinary use, and that is precisely what people inquiring about
correctness usually think they want to avoid. Grammar , on the other hand, means to them an
underlying rightness in language that is fundamental and compelling and that skilled speakers
and writers are in touch with.
In coining the term public grammar , I accept this popular use of the word grammar
because public grammar is fundamentally grammar as most people—the public, not linguists—
see it. Public grammar is the set of norms by which public language is judged; usage, the
acceptability of particular words, is a subset of those norms. Let me clarify that by public
grammar I do not mean language as the public actually uses it. I mean the expectations
governing the formal features of language, written and spoken, when it is used in public.
Grammar in this phrase is not descriptive but prescriptive—grammar and usage as they appear in
the handbooks and as we apply them in the editing phase of writing. This grammar is public in
the sense that it codifies the conventions of the standard dialect that our society approves for
general use and defines as literacy. In 1985, Patrick Hartwell, in an essay entitled “Grammar,
Grammars, and the Teaching of Grammar,” defined five types of grammar. His Grammar 3 was
the dogmas of usage and language etiquette, the do's and don'ts, and his Grammar 4 referred to
the grammar that is presented in traditional school textbooks. These two types constitute what I
am calling public grammar. This public grammar describes an idealized product; it says nothing
about process. And it is no more or less theoretical than the traditional generalizations about
parts of speech and sentence structure (such as "the number of the verb must agree with the
number of the subject") that govern prescription.
My stepdaughter reports that in her fifth-grade class, she tries to stay out of "grammar jail."
If she and her classmates don't indent a paragraph or if they misuse a and an, their picture goes
up on the board in the appropriate jail cell. I wince when I hear the term, but Meredith says the
teacher makes it fun (Meredith never went to jail, though) and it's only one of the many ways
her class learns about writing. Public grammar is the grammar that, when violated, can land you
in grammar jail.
In contrast to the broad language landscape connoted by public grammar, private grammar
is the view of language at the level of the individual or of the social sphere that the individual
would designate loosely as private. The remaining three of Hartwell's five types seem to me to
fall under this heading: Grammar 1, the grammatical ability inside our heads; Grammar 2, the
study of Grammar 1—that is, the field of linguistics; and Grammar 5, rhetorical and stylistic
grammar. That is, private grammar refers to the process of language production and
comprehension, including the nuances of language use associated with stylistics and rhetoric and
with local dialect. It also refers to our theoretical knowledge of these processes. I'm not
thinking of private here in the sense of assertively closed off from exposure to others, as in a
private opinion or private club, but in the less intentional and more territorial sense of merely
belonging to and concerning the individual, as in private joke or private citizen . Private
grammar is structure and usage and the theory of language production and perception when the
focus is on the individual.
The concept of private grammar is important because it names a crucial characteristic in
the linguistic approach to grammar that differentiates it from traditional grammar and that
usually passes unnoticed. Traditional grammar is quite evidently public; its judgments are
cultural and social judgments, with the histories of literacy and of public education as its
credentials. But we are not as quick to recognize the orientation around the individual as a
distinguishing feature of modern linguistics and linguistic grammar. The debate over whether
teaching grammar can improve students' writing seems to linger on in part, I think, because
educators seldom realize how different the two approaches to grammar and to "improving
writing" can be. Private grammar, with its focus on the individual's language sense and the
making of meaning through language, stands at practically the opposite pole from editing a text
so that it conforms to a set of public specifications.
But public and private grammar are not completely separate. Between the two, inevitably,
there lies a contact zone, an area of overlap and ambiguity (as when we drive a car down the
highway and are thus out in public within a private space). Privateness and publicness come in
varying degrees. Informal or vernacular language sometimes makes its way to a large audience
in a formal setting, and when it does so, the private grammar of its conventions, usage, and
structure becomes more public, though not necessarily mainstream public. Rap music, for
example, places Black English Vernacular in the position of a public though still controversial
grammar. From the internet, certain idioms, abbreviations, and visual symbols, such as ":)",
move from the private telegraphy of e-mail to a more conventionalized and thus public status, at
least for the time being. Sentence fragments, usually seen as errors in the public grammar of
conventional prose, find acceptability in the pseudo-private grammar of advertising and even
poetry.
Some activity in the contact zone moves in the opposite direction, when public grammar
takes up a position in the narrower sphere of private grammar. For example, Spanish, the public
language in many countries around the world, serves as the private grammar of many Latino
homes and neighborhoods in North America. In such instances, the contact zone between public
and private grammar is fluid and complex, and it is the topic of much grammar discussion.
Why should we bother with this distinction between public and private grammar? I argue
that we need these two terms—in addition to all our other terminology—for two reasons. The
first is that, unlike the other pairs of grammar terms, these terms place various aspects of
grammar in a social context, and the added specificity can facilitate discussions of grammar.
For example, two teachers consulting about a child's writing problem might concur that she is
using a certain verb form in her private grammar and that the pattern explains the error appearing
in her public grammar (and their discovery may help the child learn to identify and control the
error when she wants or needs to). Classroom discussions about the third-person pronoun
problem (“Every student has a right to their opinion”) might arrive at conclusions that are both
realistic about formal conventions (and their resistance to change) and respectful of everyday
conversation: singular they is common and acceptable in private grammar but conflicts with a
singular antecedent in public grammar.
A broader example: At the Conference on College Communication and Composition, 16th
March 2001, I heard Peter Elbow argue that vernaculars should become more accepted as styles
within academic discourse in order to open up that discourse to wider ethnicity ("Writing in the
Vernacular"). He was arguing, in effect, that public grammar should embrace a wider range of
private grammars. Casting his point in terms of public and private grammars highlights some of
the very real obstacles to such a development, inasmuch as public and private grammar serve
such different functions and audiences.
The second general advantage in using these terms is that they would make discussions of
grammar not only more specific as to social context but also, as a result, less disparaging.
Descriptivists might have less reason to think of correctness as narrow-minded purism if they
could conceive of correctness as the public grammar of a literate heritage. Traditionalists might
feel less inclined to think of minority languages or dialects as some failure of intelligence or as
blatant refusal to adapt to North American culture if they could think of them as skillful
meaning-making through the private language and grammar of home and family. [i] Together,
both genres of grammarians could collaborate in giving students confidence that they have
already mastered their private grammar and that they are now engaged in the challenging task of
mastering (and perhaps eventually changing and enriching) their society's public grammar. The
terms private grammar and public grammar can help both to clarify and to dignify many of the
conflicted language situations with which children and adults contend.
[i] The private-public distinction may prove especially valuable in understanding the educational
needs of linguistic minorities in North America. See, for example, Richard Rodriguez, Hunger of
Memory —Rodriguez, in fact, uses the words public and private to describe the painful transition
when his parents, at the prompting of the teachers from his school, began speaking English with
him at home instead of Spanish (16, 32).
Works Cited
Hartwell, Patrick. "Grammar, Grammars, and the Teaching of
Grammar." College English 47 (1985): 105-127.
Quirk, Randolph, Sidney Greenbaum, Geoffrey Leech, and Jan
Svartvik. A Comprehensive Grammar of the English
Language. London: Longman, 1985.
Rodriguez, Richard. Hunger of Memory: The Education of
Richard Rodriguez. New York: Bantam Books, 1982.