Bad speling

I think of myself as a person with good spelling. Sure, I make mistakes, several of them on this blog, and when I spot them I fix them quickly before anyone else sees them and “trolls” me for it. Because it’s embarrassing (that’s how you spell it, right?).

Grammar is another matter. If spelling makes you suffer, imagine the suffering of not being sure whether a sentence is correctly written. The third problem is style, but that one, well, that one can be solved, because you can learn a lot about style by reading others and by writing a lot (heaps, tons, with blood, sweat and tears). If you want to be good at something you have to practice. But you have to start at some point.

I know that many people who hold back from writing do so because they lack confidence, and the first barrier is spelling. There are some shameless types who comment and write without a thought for their spelling, and who will never care about improving it. But there are intelligent people, very intelligent people, who spell badly, some of them horrrrribly, and they have simply chosen not to say anything in writing. And that’s a shame, because they are very valuable people, interesting to talk to, deep, full of brilliant ideas, but they suffer from this problem.

The bad part is that we are very harsh sometimes, I think. There are also some genuine spelling trolls, the kind who forgive nothing, and if they bother me, a person who writes reasonably well, when I make a mistake, imagine the effect they have on people with bigger insecurities.

The other day I got really angry at a commenter on Akarrú (my other blog), because in a long text where I talk about Nietzsche, I made the mistake of writing it without the s several times, like this: “Nietzche”. So this troll left a single comment: “interesting, although my eyes couldn’t stand seeing Nietzsche misspelled so many times”.

OK, he’s right, it was misspelled, and Nietzsche would probably say I’m an ass, but was it necessary to leave such an unpleasant comment? I’ve fixed it now. I wonder whether Nietzsche would be considered a troll in our day...

Well, the problem, I think, is that while the troll is an interesting character, and one I really enjoy playing, especially when it comes to annoying pseudo-scientific environmentalists, he leaves a certain stench in his wake that sours the atmosphere and drives away the people who want to have a good time focused on more interesting things.

What I want to declare, admitting that I am often guilty of trolling myself, is that I consider the “spelling troll” (as I will call this pedantic creature) a particularly harmful species.

Harmful because it is the reason many of these wonderful people who spell badly have refrained from taking part in forums, blogs, comments, and even on Twitter itself.

Because to improve your spelling it is not enough to read a lot, as many mistaken teachers suggest. Many of the people I know who spell badly are great readers. They may suffer from some kind of dyslexia, or insecurity, who knows.

But I am going to venture the thesis that the real way to cure “bad speling” is by writing. And that what the rest of us have to do is concentrate on what these people have to say, regardless of their spelling mistakes, value what they say, and judge them by the content and not by the form. Because a “hoygan” we can ignore and send to the spam folder easily. But the person who is making an effort to contribute an idea, if they have a few flaws, we should welcome them, read them, and discreetly, but above all kindly, correct them.

If we don’t let them write, how is that person going to improve their spelling? If spelling is a writing problem, shouldn’t it be improved by writing? If we don’t let them write, if we scare them off at the first slip, aren’t we denying them the chance to get better?

So, friend, if you don’t dare to comment on this blog because you are ashamed of your spelling, I’m telling you: “don’t be afraid of screwing up”. Write what you think, without fear. I own this joint and I will accept your spelling mistakes. What I care about is that you write something that adds to the conversation. We’ll figure out how to improve along the way. Write. Write, because that is the only way to improve your spelling; maybe it’s just your own insecurity. Go ahead, write to me. If you add nothing, if you really are a poor hoygan, your voice will not be heard, but if you made it to this paragraph, I’m sure that’s not the case.