I need to get some things off my chest with regard to two ubiquitous child-rearing expressions:
This one drives me crazy because the distinction inside/outside is not the issue. This is an example of a "rule"--like "i before e except after c"--that is subject to so many exceptions as to be practically meaningless. When people say, "Use your inside voice," they mean, "Please be quiet." Why can't we teach our children that? Is it really harder to teach the kids the difference between a loud, strong voice and a quiet one than to teach them the difference between inside and outside?
What do parents who've instilled the inside/outside distinction do with all the exceptions? My son is only 22 months old and he already knows that when he is playing with the train set in the kids' area at our public library he is allowed to speak in a quiet normal voice and to walk freely around the area; he also knows he is not allowed to yell, squeal, or run. When I take him into silent worship at our Friends Meeting, he never says a word; this is not something I've taught him, but he seems to absorb the necessity for quiet from the atmosphere, because as soon as meeting rises and people start making announcements, he talks, too. During the hospitality after Worship, he knows that he may run freely around the mulit-purpose room with the other kids, and that they are allowed to shout back and forth to each other in the course of their games.
Which of these three examples is his "inside voice"?
As to "outside voices," what about concerts in the park? Gatherings in people's backyards where the kids are free to make noise on the play equipment but are expected to respect the conversations of adults on the deck? Sidewalk cafes?
Why say what you don't mean? Why teach kids a rule that is not a true rule? I just don't get it.
This admonition is supposed to be a reminder to children that language has power; that they can more effectively communicate with words than with, say, fists. But it is an example of weak language, which undermines the message just a wee bit.
When I hear people say, "Use your words," I always think sarcastically, "Use them for what?" "Use" communicates very little. It is like the "to be" verbs: necessary in moderation, damaging when applied too liberally. When my students and I talk about word choices, I give them examples of strong and weak verbs. "What do the first two words of each of these sentences tell you?" I ask them, and give them a list like this:
Do you see some of the problems with squandering a sentence's verb on a word like "use," "is," or "was," that carries little meaning itself? The deferral of content, the need for three or four words where one will do, the increase in abstraction?
OK, then, how about "Speak," "Talk," "Tell," or "Say," in place of "Use"? Instead of "Can you use your words," how about:
Or just,
Your homework: Think of some specific, strong-verb alternatives to "Use your inside voice." I know you can do it.
A postscript: In at least four places in this entry, I replaced "use"-based verb phrases with stronger words in the editing process. I'm particularly pleased with having come up with "squander" in place of "use up." It's a nifty vocabulary word and better conveys the meaning.
Posted by Su Penn at April 7, 2003 11:44 AM | TrackBack