I Feel Bad When You Feel Badly

5 Comments

We all know someone who, upon hearing someone else say “I feel bad,” says, “You mean you feel badly.” Usually, this correction is accompanied by a smug expression and a haughty tone, which just makes me so angry I could kick someone in the shins (but I don’t, because that’s rude and writers shouldn’t be rude).

People who say, “I feel badly,” don’t bother me. It’s a common error. They’ve likely been told by a smug so-and-so that their grammar is moronic and they have been made to feel that they have the IQ of a paper clip for saying “I feel bad,” (Paper clips have an IQ of approximately 5, so it’s not good to have the IQ of a paper clip in case you thought it was a compliment.)

It’s those who make others feel stupid for saying “I feel bad,” that bother me. I know I just said it’s a common error, but it’s one of those errors that some people think separates them from the dimwits of the world. It makes some people feel superior when, really, their disdainful correction only highlights their ignorance (you know who you are).

The truth is–brace yourselves for it–the correct form when a person is describing her emotional state is “I feel bad.”

I know that thousands of you are shocked by this (or at least three of you, since I don’t yet have a readership in the thousands), but it’s true. When you describe your emotional state, “bad” is the way to go. To those of you whose world is destroyed by this information, who just don’t know how you will carry on with your day-to-day life, I am sad but I’m not sadly (see what I did there?).

Allow me to explain this, before you bombard me with literally one e-mail protesting this proclamation.

“Feel” can actually be two types of verb. It can be an active verb, as in I feel my cat’s fur. “Feel” can also be a linking verb, which describes an emotional state or a state of being. Other linking verbs include forms of “to be” such as “am,” “was,” “are,” “is” and so on. Some verbs, including “feel,” and “smell” can be either active verbs or linking verbs, depending on their context.

If you use “feel” as an active verb, then “badly” is perfectly fine because the active verb requires an adverb as a descriptive. Basically, you’re describing the act of feeling an object in a bad manner (it’s kind of weird but it’s allowed). But, if you’re describing your emotional state, you’re using a linking verb which requires an adjective, so you feel bad.

How do you know which to use? Attempt to replace your verb with some form of “to be.” If you can, then you’re using a linking verb and bad (or stupid, strong or any other descriptive term is correct). If you can’t, then you’re using an active verb and badly (or stupidly or strongly) is correct.

Need more help? Let’s say someone asks you to name the capital of Canada and you get it wrong (it’s Ottawa, by the way). Do you say, “I feel stupid,” or “I feel stupidly?” (Don’t feel too stupid, though, there are many out there who don’t know it and some of them are Canadian.) Or, say someone cuts you off in traffic, almost causing a car accident. Do you say, “I feel mad” or “I feel madly” as you honk your horn at him?

If you wouldn’t use stupidly or madly, don’t use badly.

So, the next time someone condescendingly tells you that you feel badly, tell him that you most definitely feel bad but he’ll feel worsely (see how I did it again?) after you punch him in the stomach (but don’t punch him, because that would be rude and as I explained above, a writer shouldn’t be rude).

On Grammar, Punctuation and Kindness

5 Comments

Today, I’m feeling philosophical. Maybe it’s because I’ve been working on freewriting, so proper grammar is on my mind. Maybe it’s because there’s a heated debate at one of the listservs I follow about proper grammar and punctuation. Maybe it’s because I mentioned “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” the other day and now being a stickler is on my mind.

Whatever it is, I’ve got good grammar and snobbery on my mind. Now, before you get angry because you think I’m calling YOU a snob—I’m not. But I worry sometimes that people who love good grammar and punctuation have a tendency to become snobs and look down their noses at those who don’t use grammar and punctuation properly. And there’s a serious danger in that.

Here’s the thing: there are certain people that I expect good grammar from. They include writers, editors, journalists, heads of state and people who do jobs associated with writing, such as PR people and advertising executives. You get the point. But not everyone has those jobs. And not everyone has the same understanding of English, especially when it comes to grammar and punctuation.

I’m not just thinking here of children. Crawford Killian wrote in The Tyee (April 29, 2010), that according to BC’s budget for education, in 2005 only 60 percent of British Columbians aged 16 to 65 could read at “level 3.” He then defined “level 3″ as “the desired threshold for coping with the increasing skill demands of a knowledge economy and society.” Basically, in 2005, 40 percent of adults couldn’t read the article in The Tyee that cited their inability to read.

That’s astonishing to me. And it makes me think about all the times I’ve died a little inside at the sight of a misplaced apostrophe. Now, I wonder how many of those times the apostrophe was misplaced not because of laziness but because the person who wrote it really didn’t know? Genuinely didn’t know. Not just that they didn’t pay attention in school, but they really couldn’t understand what they were being taught.

Even though we hold grammar near and dear to our hearts, how many of us know every single rule? I was dumbfounded a few weeks ago to learn that I was using “however” and “hopefully” incorrectly. I never even thought about those words or how to use them—and it’s my job to know. Many people don’t know the rules and wouldn’t have any resources to turn to if they did want to learn.

I’m not saying that we should abandon all rules of grammar—far from it. The rules are important. But I do think there should be some flexibility in how we view the errors we come across.

If someone can’t read, then a misplaced apostrophe is really the least of his concerns, and it should be the least of mine. Losing my mind over an apostrophe won’t change the writer’s inability to read and it won’t encourage him to try, either. All it will do is humiliate him, and probably discourage him from ever reading or writing again.

It’s one thing to be passionate about proper grammar. In fact, I think it’s wonderful to be passionate about grammar. It’s another thing entirely to look down on people who don’t know or understand it.

So, the next time you see a terrible error in grammar or punctuation, ask yourself if the error is laziness or something else. If it’s laziness, deal with it how you must. If it’s a simple lack of understanding of one rule, then educate the person.

But if  there’s a chance it’s something else, something deeper than just not caring about commas, apostrophes or modifiers, then be kind. Show understanding. Don’t belittle or humiliate. Don’t assume that you know what this person should know or should be capable of, because you probably have no idea what his circumstances are.

And, whatever you do, don’t judge. I would rather be known as someone who showed compassion and flexibility than as someone who made another person cry over a comma. Improper grammar and punctuation can be fixed with editing. A person’s broken self-confidence can’t.

And, in the interest of full disclosure, I sometimes have difficulty with “ance” versus “ence” suffixes. I also always add the “e” in judgment, although my Canadian Dictionary says that’s okay. Not preferred, but okay. Yeah, I checked.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 141 other followers