By Alyssa Sanford
I’m well-acquainted with the Question.
It’s not so much a question as it is a bemused look, a slight lift of the eyebrows, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of the lips.
Entering my senior year in college, I’ve found ways to cope with the condescension that comes with the Question, short of crafting little voodoo dolls of my well-intentioned critics and sticking them deliberately with pins.
“And what are you studying?” the Questioner will politely inquire, after asking my younger sister, an aspiring urban elementary school teacher with a double major in Spanish the very same question.
I smile, a little ruefully, and drop my chin. “English and journalism.”
The Questioner, sometimes a relative, sometimes a recent college graduate, sometimes a parent of a friend or an elderly woman at my grandmother’s church, blinks. “Oh. That’s… wonderful.”
I can hear the question lingering behind it. And what in the world are you going to do with that?! Continue reading
Human Spellcheck 