Day: April 6, 2009

Caveat: Tyler Brown IN MEMORIAM

Banalities & Journaling / Databases, Smartphones & Computers / Life is a Dream / The Wonders of Work

I recently learned, much to my shock, that a former close colleague of mine passed away last year.  Tyler and I worked together at HealthSmart in 2005-2006, in Long Beach and mostly at the Pharmacies division in Newport Beach.

I've mentioned Tyler twice in this blog (which is pretty notable, considering how little I was blogging during the time he and I were close colleagues).  First, in April of 2006, I didn't give his name, but only wrote of him obliquely:

… the future is scary.

So I guess this is one of those flexion-points, where I might decide to step away from my current future, and toward another.  But a friend (a colleague) made an observation to me the evening before the interview – really, also, an observation OF me.  He pointed out (and somehow had figured this out despite missing major portions of my biography) that I was a serial quitter. 

And maybe I should get over that?

The hardest future to adopt, in other words, is the one currently coming at you.  Alternate futures are easier, perhaps.  Am I destined to always be a refugee in my own alternate futures, in exile from my own alternate pasts?

Hidden behind this mention, but evident in it, is the fact that, during that short time (about 6 months?  Maybe almost a year), Tyler was essentially my best friend.  We worked together on an almost daily basis.  We had connected at a visceral level, with our curmudgeonly personalities.  And he was more than a little bit of a mentor to me, in things technical, while I know he was fascinated with my never-ending tales in the vein of "…at that time, I was working as a … "  Which is to say, my dilettantism.  Really, he influenced me a great deal.

The other mention was in August of 2007, right before I left for Korea.  I was "catching up" with the abandoned coworkers of past jobs, and we had lunch at the Inka Grill in Costa Mesa, a place which I shall always associate with "lunch with Tyler."  Especially now.

I made several efforts to get back in touch with him since coming to Korea.  Not really concerted efforts, though.  And now, I've learned, he died at some point last year, so perhaps my efforts were already "too late."  I knew he'd had some health issues, and he was definitely quite a bit older than I am… he was a Vietnam vet, after all.  Still…

I will remember him as a good teacher, at least, of technical things.  A man of extraordinary insight into human character, if somewhat impatient and cynical, himself.  Generous to a fault with those whom he respected, and downright ornery with those whom he didn't.  Not a talented manager, but highly organized and capable of lots of innovative thoughts.  From personal experience, an indispensable person to have on your side during a difficult business meeting, and a great person to have on your team when trying to meet an impossible deadline.   Thanks, Tyler.  I miss you.

Caveat: Those Evil Epenthetics

Language & Linguistics / Teaching & Methodology

I become more and more convinced that it is not necessarily an advantage, for Korean learners of English, that the Korean language (South Korean, anyway) has been so welcoming of English vocabulary over the last half-century.  In fact, it creates some serious problems.  Here's why.

Korean phonology allows far fewer consonant clusters than English does, and in general, vowel and consonant inventories are radically different between the two languages, too.  Therefore, when Korean borrows an English word, it messes with its native phonology substantially to make it "fit," or nativize it.   The main thing that happens is that "epenthetic" vowels are inserted between consonants that aren't allowed to follow each other in Korean, or at the end of English words that end in consonants where Korean doesn't allow such a consonant ending.

A notorious example:  printer -> 프린트 (REV peurinteo IPA [pɯrintʌ]).  The main Korean epenthetic vowel used is 으 [ɯ], which is basically the Korean functional equivalent of the English schwa [ə].   Because of this, the problem is exacerbated by the fact that Korean speakers develop the mistaken belief that [ɯ] is a common English sound, when, in fact, it not only doesn't exist in English but is a freaky, difficult, weird-sounding vowel for English speakers.

The problem is that Koreans then internalize a false rule, which is that this sort of vowel epenthesis is the "right" way to pronounce English words.  I've had kids literally argue with me, passionately, in class that "hadeu" (IPA [hadɯ]) was the "right" pronunciation of the word "hard," for example.   The reasoning is basically that, if these thousands of borrowings from English into Korean are English words, after all, how could Koreans be saying them all wrong?  It's naive "folk" linguistics, but it becomes a huge battle in the classroom.

Worse… in some kids, whose parents or former teachers thought they were doing them a favor by transcribing their English lessons into hangeul (Korean alphabet), the problem becomes insanely worse, so that they will utter whole sentences, verily, entire speeches, in "hangeulized" English.  I had two students do this today.  I wanted to cry.  How can I help them, when they argue that "del ijeu noting rongeu wideu ma-i peurononshieishon" (there is nothing wrong with my pronunciation)? 

Sigh.

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