in memory of Judy Richman

And, but, or, nor, for, so, yet. Coordinating conjunctions. When two independent clauses are joined by a coordinating conjunction, you need to put a comma before the coordinating conjunction. She made us recite them sing-song until they were ingrained in our minds. And but or nor for so yet. Andbutornorforsoyet? Andbutornorforsoyet. This was our last chance to learn grammar, she would tell us. And she was the woman for the job. It was our senior year of high school, and none of us really understood all of the comma rules. I was familiar with the vocabulary of it all, words like coordinating and subordinating and parenthetical from 7^th grade English class in Catholic school, but I surely didn’t remember what it all meant. And my classmates looked completely overwhelmed when Ms. Richman matter-of-factly answered their comma questions by employing grammar language. Of course, she expected they would be overwhelmed, but she never passed up the opportunity to cackle at the lost expressions on people’s faces. Ms. Richman’s cackle was a signature trait, and never cold or mean as the word might imply. There isn’t another word I would use to describe it. It was playful and friendly and warm, but cackle it was.

I was sitting in a computer lab, reciting the coordinating conjunctions to myself, not really thinking about why I know them in that order, and trying to decide whether or not a comma was needed. (Ms. Richman used to recite that Oscar Wilde quote to us all the time: “I have spent most of the day putting in a comma and the rest of the day taking it out.” She loved Oscar Wilde. We read The Importance of Being Earnest in her class that year, and she insisted on reading the role of Lady Bracknell. She had played the role in a community theater production a few years earlier, and that summer she let my friend and I watch the video tape of the production.) I allowed myself to be distracted by paper writing and rule for comma usage for a few minutes while I checked my email. There was an email from a friend from high school with a subject line that read: really sad news. I opened the email immediately, not really allowing myself to imagine what the sad news could be, and soon learned that Judy Richman was seriously ill and was not expected to make it through the night. I quickly signed off the computer, stuffed my books into my bag and left the computer lab.

Outside it was appropriately dark and misty, and I sat and sobbed. I tried to remember all of the books and plays and poetry we read that year. All of the lessons and questions and contradictions. The Awakening, King Lear, Six Degrees of Separation, Waiting for Godot…Heart of Darkness and the Madwoman of Chaillot. “Warning: When I am an Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple.” And she did. I thought about her grammar lessons, how she was in the newspaper for being committed to teaching grammar, how she even gave grammar lessons to the younger teachers in the department who hadn’t learned all the rules.

And but or nor for so yet. Words that connect two independent clauses. Andbutornorforsoyet. I thought about all of the expectation and promise held in those tiny words. That night the comma between Ms. Richman’s life and death. I closed my eyes and recited coordinating conjunctions like prayers.