Dear friends:
There are some words that I manage to misspell consistently. Apparently is one of them. (I just spelt it aparentley.) Scroich is another of the words, an Irish word that, among other things, translates as arrive. Mind you, the word isn’t scroich; it’s sroich. I misspelt it, even while trying to write about misspelling it. I have autocorrect set to English on this machine, so it underlines every Irish language word, whether spelt correctly or not — for a long time, it corrected Pádraig to Paradigm.
Wiktionary, a favourite, tells me that apparently derives from Latin: ad (towards) and pāreō (be visible). Why is it that of all the English words that I consistently misspell one of them is about visibility?
I’ve tried countless mnemonics for these errors. But nothing’s worked. There are other things that I’m incapable of remembering too, such as the difference between east and west. I always have to recall the full rhyme I learnt in Scouts in order to remember which way is which. I’m a “turn left at the blue house with the peculiar windows” kind of direction-giver, rather than a “turn west at the 1920s-era dormer” guy.
There can be a lot of shame — for some, not all — about spelling errors. While I enjoy good grammar, I make enough mistakes not to judge anyone. Flannery O’Connor kept a diary much of her life and called herself an innocent speller: innocent, meaning not hurtful. After all, a word is just a sound we make to carry meaning. I’m all for possessive apostrophes, the subjunctive, and the Oxford comma. But I look at what I wrote in my late teens and early twenties — entries in diaries written in pencil — I see what might be deemed an error, and don’t care. It took guts to write then: rules can be learnt.
Or is it learned?
Anyway, spelling of certain Irish words depends on which dialect of the language you speak. Some of the literature we studied in school spelt the word for arrive in the standardized form (sroich), but some of the poems and stories we learnt contained a Munster dialect spelling (srois, rather than sroich). Any sound is something that points beyond itself, and every accent is an accent. But, somehow, there are codes within many of our speech patterns that assign intelligence, or its opposite, to communication depending on accent, pronunciation, or spelling. I think it’s good to know the rules and to find whatever works for remembering them, although apparently, some rules don’t stick for some fools like me. I’m also a fan of a more fundamental rule: don’t be a dick.
While I didn’t love school, it was the lack of ease with myself and a friendship group that was my main concern. (That, and the awful lessons about sport and religion and what it means to be a proper male.) But, for the most part, if I worked hard enough, I did well enough at examinations. Others were failed by a system that capitalized upon their shame. An old friend of mine, Pete, took a course in communications in his 40s. He’d been so demeaned by schooling that he had opted out at 15. But as an adult, someone said to him “You’ve got great critical thinking skills.” So he ended up taking a course. The final exam consisted of seven questions; he had to write short essays in response to three of the seven. He looked at the examination paper, got up, and wept in the corridor.
His crisis wasn’t that he couldn’t answer the questions. His crisis was that he could: he realized he could write a comprehensive essay about any seven of the topics posed. He just didn’t know how to choose. Nothing had prepared him for success. The examiner followed him out, asked him what was up, and gave him a private corner for himself where he could write as he wished.
Of course he passed with flying colours. Of course he cried when he told me. Of course I’m crying now. Of course this is what education is: to help us see what’s there. Or could be.
What’s a mistake you often make? What’s your relationship with it? What does it do to you? What would it take to meet you in that corridor?
PS: Just by way of advance notice, we will have a short extra series of Poetry Unbound episodes, starting in mid-May. “Poems as Teachers: conflict and the human condition” — it’s a series of seven episodes featuring seven poems that are intelligent about division. We’ll release those episodes over the course of a week, and I’ll have more information in next week’s Substack.
Poetry in the World
A list of events: Online; in the US (Pittsburgh PA, Camden ME, Boone NC, Rhinebeck NY); Greece; England; and the Scottish island of Iona
May 8 at 9am (Pacific Time), online
I’m giving a talk at the Spiritual Directors Online Conference. Get $50 off the price of access to the entire conference (it runs from May 8–10) if you use the code Conf50, or $25 off the price of a day pass with the code SDI25; find details and registration here.
May 9 at 3am (Eastern Time), online
I’ll be participating in an online webinar about the art of civic dialogue, hosted by Australia’s Small Giants Academy. Go here to register to attend.
May 14, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, US
For you theologically interested folks, I’ll be speaking at the Festival of Homiletics. Info here.
May 17 at 2–4pm, Camden, Maine, US
I’ll be talking about the word “you” in poetry at the Camden Public Library. You can attend in person or over Zoom. The entire two-day festival is free; information here.
May 24–26, Boone, North Carolina, US
I’m leading a a 48-hour Poetry Unbound retreat, where there will be poetry readings, responding to prompts, and sharing. Information and registration here.
June 27–July 7, Patmos, Greece
I’m one of the speakers at the 10-night “Journeying into Common Good” salon, together with Krista Tippett, Allison Russell, JT Nero, and Joe Henry. More details here.
August 7 at 6-7:30pm ET, online
I’ll be exploring conflict and change through poetry at an online event in partnership with the International Center for Cooperation and Conflict Resolution at Columbia University. You can register for free here.
August 23–25, Northamptonshire, England
I’ll be at the Greenbelt Festival, and, among other events, I will be interviewing the brilliant Jenny Mitchell (whose poem “A Man in Love with Plants” we featured on a Season 7 episode of Poetry Unbound). You can go here to learn about the festival.
October 6–11, Rhinebeck, New York, US
I’m back for a week at Omega (just two hours north of NYC) for a week of reflection on poetry, poetry prompts, and group discussions. Expect lovely people, gorgeous surroundings and food, and conversations about how poetry opens your world. Learn more here.
March 10–15 and March 18–23 2025, Isle of Iona, Scotland
I’m holding two Poetry Unbound retreats on the gorgeous Scottish island of Iona. Each retreat is the same, so book whichever one works for you. Booking will be available here from 8am Scottish time on May 1.
The English language is designed to be misspelled.
Thank you Padraig, once again you’ve left me with my head spinning. I’m with you completely on the left-right vs east-west thing. My wife has east, west, north and south hardwired into her. We buy a house and she talks about the west gardens. I say, gently at first, ‘is that the garden by the road?’ She really wants to add shelves to the north wall of the back room, ‘oh the wall looking out towards the garage’ I say. After five years in this house I’m well situated with the direction of the east rising sun and moon. We just bought a new one however and we’re starting all over again. I’ll try not to be so slow to catch on this time! Thankfully.