|
|
|
to ESPN's spelling bee.
Young word-conquerors in the age of spell check
By Andrew Wallenstein
Anyone who has watched the evening news is no stranger to human atrocities being beamed into their living room.
But for four hours on ESPN this past Thursday, America witnessed an event of such unspeakable horror that it must have jolted the most jaded viewer: the live broadcast of the 74th Annual Scripps Howard National Spelling Bee.
From home, the contest seemed like an absolutely riveting competition, with $10,000 in stakes among other prizes. For the 73 finalists no older than 15, it seemed like some form of voluntary child abuse.
Picture if you will a prepubescent student standing on a stage inside the massive ballroom at the Grand Hyatt in Washington, D.C. A dais full of judges glower at the student as if he or she were the subject of a Senate confirmation hearing.
Each contestant must then spell a word most adults will never encounter, like "ligniperdous" and "concinnity," using the ridiculously difficult English language, which seems to have three exceptions for every rule.
Get a single letter wrong and you're out of the competition. No second chances, no points for good effort. Feel free to study your brains out, but every contestant knows it comes down to the luck of the draw. Hopefully the word won't sound like it came from a Klingon dictionary on "Star Trek."
To top if off, each word to be spelled is read aloud by a professional "pronouncer," the jowly Dr. Alex J. Cameron. With his dour demeanor, he makes Anne Robinson from NBC's "Weakest Link" seem like Mary Poppins.
The very first contestant ESPN showed set the tone for this unforgiving competition. My heart went out to poor Sammy J. Totino of Willoughby, Ohio, when he clearly made the equivalent of a mental typo by accidentally spelling "ocarina" with an "e" at the end.
He covered his mouth with his hands a millisecond later in recognition of his mistake, but it was too late: The bee's rigid rules dictate you can't take back a letter you've already uttered.
But what really broke my heart was the sight of the pixie-cute Rebecca Clendaniel, who made the tragic error of inserting a 'y' into her spelling of "obmutescence." When the bell rang signaling her mistake, she dissolved into tears on national TV.
What kind of world is this where we expect an 11-year-old girl to spell "obmutescence?" Aren't there laws that prevent giving the third degree to a fourth grader?
Of course, the spelling bee has its glorious side, too. The process by which these budding intellectuals analyze words of indistinguishable definition is fascinating.
Spelling bees aren't about rote memorization; contestants are allowed to ask questions about the words, such as alternate pronunciations and language of origin.
However, occasionally the answers to these question only yield more confusion. It's not uncommon for an English word to derive from multiple sources, like one that bore the heritage of Iranian, Greek and Latin all at once.
Each word can take several minutes for a contestant to spell; you can almost hear the wheels turning in their heads amid the otherwise deafening silence of the ballroom. Less often, a child will startle everyone by quickly spelling an obscure word as if it were commonly used in Dr. Seuss books.
When Mary Esther Ahern spelled "rhabdoid" in several seconds, I nearly fell out of my chair.
But the most marvelous aspect of the competition has to be its utter uselessness. In the age of spell check, there's something wonderfully anachronistic about spotlighting children who excel at a skill that has become a fully automated function.
Kudos to ESPN for sending a message that terrific competition can come in the form of mental acuity as well as physical prowess.
June 4, 2001 © 2001 Media Life
-Andrew Wallenstein is the television critic for Media Life.
Send to a
Friend| Printer-Friendly Version
Cover Page | Contact
Us
