It's All in the Language

When I was five years old, I lived in Piscataway, New Jersey.  I was thrilled because our family was planning a trip to Martha’s Vineyard, all the way in Massachusetts.  I told everyone whom I encountered that I was going; I was filled with the unrestrained excitement typical of most five-year olds. I received advice from my across-the-street neighbor that has stayed with me for the rest of my life. 

“If you want to fit in with the natives, you had better talk like the natives.”

 Then, my speech lessons commenced.  She told me we only had a week to teach me to refer to my mother’s sister as my awwwwwnt, rather than ant. I was informed that, if anyone was going to understand me, I would have to lose my hard New Jersey “r’s” and replace them with the sound “ahhh.”  Gone were cars. In came “cahhs.”

The crash course of Cape Codidian continued with a geography lesson.  Though Boston was the capital of Massachusetts, I was informed that the intellectual capital of Massachusetts was Cambridge.  I had absolutely NO idea what that meant.  Initially, it wasn’t  clear to me what it meant when our neighbor told me never to say that I was “in” Martha’s Vineyard. It is a matter of geography.  The Vineyard is an island, comprised of six towns.  Martha’s Vineyard visitors and natives go to “the Island” and say they are “on” the Vineyard. At last, I understood what that meant: Not in, On.  Make that mistake and why, there may not be enough room on the beach for my floaty raft and me.  

I came to reflect on these long ago lessons because I am reading a book called The House at Sea’s End by Elly Griffiths.  It is an ebook on a Kindle, written by a British author.  A startling usage error escaped the editor of the novel.  Jarring, simply because it is not a usage commonly accepted in the States, it is still hard to fault the author.  After all, she is not a native of New England.

from The House at Sea's End by Elly Griffiths.
"It must get cold in Cape Cod."
This was the second time I saw this error.

Oh, The Places She'll Go!

Waterplace Luxury Residences, Providence, R.I.
makes the short list for apartment rental.

Within twenty-four hours, my daughter’s, Hannah’s, life seemingly turned on a dime.  Yesterday, her only certainty was that she was graduating from college in sixteen days.  The rest was unwritten.  At eleven a.m., she called me to tell me she had an offer from Brown University; she was offered a coveted job working in a Rhode Island Hospital clinic to treat children with anxiety disorders.  After examining some other, outstanding opportunities, she took the plunge and committed to take the job.  D.C., goodbye, Providence, hello.  She is out the door, down the chute, on the way, thank you very much, Dr. Seuss.  Oh, the Places She’ll Go! 

I realized the luxury of having my best friend from high school (the pair of us graduated from the Mary C. Wheeler School for Girls, Providence, R.I.) work in real estate in Providence. She helped us (narrowly) miss reaching for an apartment in an “undesirable” neighborhood.  My friend then steered us to three other favorable situations. Hannah is sorting her options, reviewing her budget, asking smart questions. In 30 days, she begins a job that requires a two year commitment.  From there, she intends to get her PhD in psychology so she can treat troubled kids.  She will study for another four years before matriculation.  

It strikes me that, at eleven o’clock yesterday, Hannah received an offer that was also a six-year life plan. It is a direction toward which she has been inching for four years.  It is thrilling, daunting, and in every way satisfying to see my daughter, though supported and loved by her father and me, embark on a journey of her own creation.