Spell check?

I am a Martin Scholar.

I am a recipient of the Lloyd and Lois Martin Multicultural Scholarship, awarded to those who exhibit significant leadership and service in their communities and who promote ethnic diversity and reconciliation.

The requirements for those who receive this helpful financial support are somewhat ambiguous. I have heard next to nothing about the status of this scholarship since I arrived on campus, and I have, on occasion, felt slightly anxious that dear Mr. and Mrs. Martin had forgotten me.

Thankfully, the dreadful silence was finally broken when I was invited to visit a nondescript boardroom to write and sign a Thank You card for the Martins this afternoon. After classes and a hearty lunch (no use writing a card on an empty stomach), I descended into the depths of Eisenhower Campus Center to locate the appreciation party.

Upon entering the room, a jolly middle-aged woman approached me and asked me my name. She then handed me large envelope and explained its contents. "These are the instructions for writing the card and some information on the scholarship. This is a reminder about the Martin Scholarship Dinner in April. This is the card itself, and this is a blank piece of paper."

Before I had a chance to inquire about the presence of scrap paper in such a neatly organized packet, she winked at me and laughed, "Spelling counts!"

Needless to say, I was somewhat surprised with her lack of faith in my writing skills. Where did she expect me to err? "Um, excuse me, Miss. How do you spell 'thank you' again?"

Nevertheless, I took my seat next to a number of fellow "Scholars" already in progress and began to write. Admittedly, I actually found the scrap paper quite useful as I painstakingly crafted what I hoped would be the most eloquent expression of gratitude Mr. and Mrs. Martin would ever receive.

A short time later, I heard some whispering to my right. I looked up to see one girl leaning over asking another, "Umm... is "truly" spelled "t-r-u-e-l-y" or "t-r-u-l-y?"

As the first girl stammered between nervous laughing that she is a "really bad speller" I listened for the correct answer. To my dismay, the second girl paused for a moment and leaned back in her chair to think. "Um, no. Yeah I think it's the second one. Right?"

I mean, I can understand that some people are naturally bad spellers, but "truly"?

Oh, wait. There's more.

After resolving the first great dilemma, the second girl smiled meekly and said, "I'm really bad too!" A pause, and then, "Um, does completely end in 'e-y' or just 'y'?"

At this point, I was staring shamelessly; though, I doubt they would have noticed, so intently were they thinking. Of course, the other girl didn't know either, so the two of them, relieved to have found a friend with similar 'disabilities', began to chuckle softly. The girl who asked stared into space, clearly trying to picture the word with all possible spellings and evidently getting nowhere. Her partner-in-literacy-crime was scratching away furiously on her (now essential) scrap paper, but also gaining no ground.

Finally, I could take no more. Out of the goodness of my heart, I reached out and rescued them from their soon-to-be spelling purgatory. For all I knew, they might sit there for eternity, guided only by whatever modest and rudimentary spelling education they had received. I could not let them suffer so.

"It ends in a 'y'." They both looked up, their expressions a mixture of shame and intense gratitude.

"Ha ha. Is it? Alright, thanks!"

I finished my card shortly after and went on my way. I guess the skeptical assistant-lady really knew what she was talking about after all. Who am I to think that college-educated Americans should be able to spell with nothing but a pen and paper? Stripped of our self-correcting word processors and online dictionaries, can we really be held accountable for whatever atrocious spelling errors we commit?

I don't mean to sound too negative. I'm sure those two girls are wonderful people, and, for all I know, they could be excellent writers. I just think something is wrong when we become functionally illiterate in the absence of our gadgets.

Somehow, I don't think Lloyd and Lois would be impressed.