Debriefing the Bee

As a journalist, I'm compelled to correct mistakes I make, even in blog postings. Not that there were any major errors in yesterday's slightdetour, but I did become aware of one misconception while reading today's local blat. According to this morning's edition, the Panhandle State Bank team won this year's adult spelling bee last week at Community Hall, not the Panhandle Alliance for Education team, as reported yesterday.

I was happy to see in this morning's photo that one of my students (Kellie (sp?) Dryden) competed on the winning team, but I was unhappy that I'd read yesterday's photo caption too hurriedly and ASS-U-MED that the Panhandle Alliance for Education had won the bee. On further inspection of yesterday's Bee, I learned that the Panhandle Alliance for Education (PAFE) team won the "best costume" category for the event.

So, correction made, I feel much better about yesterday's posting. I'm sure that had to be my only mistake. Now, as far as the PAFE team members succumbing to Panhandle State Bank, somebody's going to have to investigate why a bunch of education-oriented spellers let a bunch of bankers beat them at their own game.

Meanwhile, I must touch on the spelling bee at Farmin-Stidwell Elementary School yesterday, where I served as designated "pronouncer" of words. It went off without a hitch except for a couple of minor problems. The word "loveable" can be spelled two ways, as can many words in the English language. One contestant almost got eliminated because she spelled it "loveable," and the red signs went up.

That was how the judges indicated incorrectly spelled words. A few puzzled glances gave away the fact that something was wrong, and within seconds when the judges checked the dictionary to learn that "lovable" is the preferred version but "loveable" is okay, the young lady could smile again and reign as champion speller for her round.

Spelling bees are intense win-lose situations, which somehow foster more "smile-cry" scenes than I've observed in other competitions. I don't know what it is about these events, but the competitors, especially those who make the final cuts, often turn into instant emotional wrecks once those crucial letters are out of place or missing from the given word. I watched tears erupt several times yesterday toward the ends of rounds. One young lady worked really hard to hold hers back, but once dismissed to go to Mom, the rivers began to flow.

It was good that Moms and Dads came because many had important work the moment their child was eliminated from the round and sent back to the audience. There's nothing like a warm embrace to soothe the tearful disappointment of losing what seems at the moment to be life's most important competition. I noticed that a little parental reinforcement went a long way to dry the tears, and I'm sure that each contestant will remember from yesterday forth how to spell that crucial incorrectly spelled word.

I about broke into tears once yesterday. My job was to pull out a word from the plastic container, pronounce it and use it in a sentence. When asked, I was to give a definition. I stumbled badly on linseed. The sentence was okay, but the young lady still didn't know what it was. I said it was used in an oil. The judges looked it up in the dictionary. The definition said it was an oil made from flaxseed.

"Of course, that should help you," I said.

"No," she said and then proceeded to spell it with a "y." That ended her competition, but she handled it well.

That wasn't when I almost cried, though.

I almost cried when I pulled the word "thong" from the plastic jar. "Who put this in here?" I thought to myself, but then I also thought about how many times these words, obviously typed several years ago with a typewriter, had been copied repeatedly until some letters were actually fading from the page.

It was obvious "thong" had been on that list for a long, long time----clear back to the days when the word had a much different connotation than it has with most young people these days. After a moment of silence, I still hadn't gathered my thoughts before clearly pronouncing, "THONG."

I'm sure every adult in the audience tuned in on that one as I awkwardly started my sentence.

"I put the thong on-----------------------my foot," I said. As soon as the sentence ended, I could hear instant sighs of relief and several chuckles, mostly from grown-ups who wore thongs on their feet a generation before they turned into "flipflops" and people started wearing thongs on their seats.

"T-H-O-N-G," the contestant spelled it correctly and appearing oblivious to the amused concern permeating throughout some members of the audience. Thank God. I'd made it past that one. It was shortly thereafter that my pea brain realized that I did not have to use EVERY word I pulled from the jug. And, that was pretty helpful because there were some challenging choices among the fifth and sixth-grade collection that could even make the Panhandle State Bank folks cringe a bit.

Congratulations to all local spelling bee winners---children and adults!