The Gift of Gaffe


Gina Jaber

Bless me, Alameda, for I have sinned. There’s something that’s gone on for years that I’ve needed to get off my chest. You may think differently of me after this, but I am willing to assume the risk.
    After having lived here for just a few years, I was standing in line at Safeway with my mother-in-law one day when she ran into someone she knew, an older man who seemed quite cordial. She introduced us, and we engaged in small talk as the line progressed. After a few minutes, he detected my slight Southern accent and asked me where I was from. At some point I said something like, “I’m not a native Alamedian, but sometimes I sure feel like one.” He then touched my‑elbow and said, “You mean Alamedan.” Taken aback, I listened as he continued, “You just said Alamedian; it’s Alamedan.”‑
    My error, and the public admonishment (albeit mild),‑left me‑somewhat unsettled. I was overwhelmed by two emotions at the same time—one of utter gratitude and the other of pure humility. I began to wonder how I could have been mispronouncing that word for so long. What was I thinking? How many people must have heard me say it incorrectly but just didn’t say anything?‑I was annoyed at myself for the‑error, and to make matters worse, my mother-in-law chimed in with a smile, saying, “And she was an English major.” Grrrr.
    Over time I have allowed myself to let go of the discomfort of my faux pas and have rationalized it by remembering that residents of Canada, Florida‑and Alabama all pick up an internal “i” when referring to themselves. Obsessing further, I researched other state and country identities and discovered many linguistic inconsistencies. It soon became clear to me that there is no rhyme and not much reason to the quirky discrepancies; I therefore absolved myself from the‑mistake.
    When I shared my story with a few friends, some thought it was presumptuous if not rude of a man‑I had‑just met to correct me. I, on the other hand, am still appreciative. He stepped out of the socially correct box and did me a huge favor. He enlightened me, not to mention spared me future embarrassment.
   
While it smarts to be publicly corrected, it’s infinitely worse to go along in life repeating the same mistakes.
I believe an occasional tip, if made tactfully and in good humor, can be good to hear.
    I offer to you this humble confession for several reasons: to‑express regret over‑my gaffe and to extend solace to others who have ever been caught in similar situations; and to encourage others to accept corrections gracefully. Just think of the unintended benefit a simple slip-up can yield.
E-mail Gina Jaber at ginajab@yahoo.com.