love song to my dictionary

In the John Hughes film "Say Anything," the female lead played by Ione Skye explains to John Cusack's character that she underlines all the words she looks up in the dictionary. As he thumbs through, underlined words on all of the pages indicate she has quite the vocabulary.

Duly moved by this in the late 1980's, I sought to follow her example. (This may have been partially motivated by my great desire to attract a boyfriend like John with my bookish ways.) I bought a dictionary. I looked up a few words. I underlined. In only green ball point pen Epicurean. Elucidate. Spasmodic. Myriad. Animosity. Ennunciate.

And then...I stopped. Got bored? Began relying on context clues? All these years later, I can't find that old dictionary. I have no evidence of my sleuthing. No record of my academic efforts to better myself and way in the world.

But, I did inherit this one several years ago stuffed waaaay in the back of a closet in my new classroom. The theatre major in me immediately recognized a magical prop. You see, it looks so authentically worn and used and relied upon. The cover's been lost for crying out loud! The binding is split almost to ruin! Whoever uses this thing must be wise.

So, I keep it on my desk for students to notice, and borrow if they ask nicely. It's part of my costume as a teacher. Sure, I've used it. Often, actually. I haven't underlined any words, but the page where "inconvenient" lives is dog eared; I can never remember the spelling. It says humbly, "Kid, you don't have to know all the answers, but you do need to know where to look for them." Up against the bravado of teens on a daily basis, that subtle voice means a lot.

It's old school. Whose first notion is to grab the dictionary anymore? Nah. Not when there's a dictionary.com app on the smart phone. But I do. I like the smell. The feel. The effort involved in scanning the tiny print for my word.

Today in class we looked up "predispose". Perhaps this Engish teacher's heart is predisposed to favor the tangible, reliable record of our language.

Perhaps one day I will stand outside my dictionary's window, holding a boom box aloft, broadcasting a Peter Gabriel tune professing the connection I feel with it.

Perhaps when I retire I'll leave this gem waaaaay in the back of a drawer for a new teacher to discover.