Myths We Learn in Grade-School English: Never Begin Sentences with Coordinating Conjunctions
The Myth
Here is Grade-School Myth #2:
Never begin sentences with coordinating conjunctions like and, but, or so.
As with the other myths we explore in this series, teachers spread this particular myth among children for good reason. Children—unless they are writing savants—do not know the appropriate times to begin sentences with conjunctions. They do not yet grasp transitions, nor do they grasp why they should use transitions. As adults, though, we can understand these concepts, so we should employ them in our writing.
A helpful way to remember the seven coordinating conjunctions
Transitions: Essential to Effective Writing
What do I mean by transitions? Transitions are words, phrases, or even sentences that allow your writing to flow from one idea to the next.
Transitions connect your sentences, your paragraphs, and your ideas. For example, notice how I ask a question at the beginning of this paragraph about a point I made in the preceding paragraph; that’s a type of transition (paragraph-to-paragraph transition). Notice how, in the last sentence you read, the phrase, “for example,” connects to the sentence that precedes it. (That is a sentence-to-sentence transition.)
So why do we need transitions? Well, it’s just good, common sense: transitions keep our readers reading. Transitions carry ideas from sentence to sentence. They keep the reader on a smooth, uninterrupted track as they experience our prose. Readers, like anyone, want to be well served. They like their reading experience to be convenient, and maybe even the slightest bit entertaining. Is that too much to ask, you think?
Well, think about it. We are asking people to take time out of their lives to read our ideas and opinions. The very least we can do is serve them with a smooth, readable style. Aside from writing clearly and having something worth saying, the chief rule for serving readers is to write with smooth transitions. As with other endeavors like cooking or show-business, bringing our readers a convenient, pleasurable experience often involves some degree of inconvenience on our part. Paradoxically, an effortless experience for the reader requires great efforts from the writer.
The reward for these efforts is that your audience reads your work from start to finish. Also, readers are more likely to buy your ideas if they like the way you express them. And, even if they still disagree with your assertions, readers will at least give you credit for an enjoyable, easy read. We have many tools available for creating transitions. Sometimes, a well placed “also” or “in addition” creates a quick but helpful transition. Also, we have handy phrases like “for example” and “for instance” that connect an example to the ongoing discussion. These are generic, run-of-the-mill transition words and phrases, but they work. The best writers use them. Still, the best writers also make sure to use creative transitions.
What do I mean by creative transitions? Well, consider this paragraph I am writing here. Look at that first sentence—a question that references my language in the previous sentence. This is one great way to create a transition: explain what you mean by a certain phrase or word you used in the preceding sentence or paragraph. This technique creates transition—connection with the earlier sentence or paragraph—but it also shows your readers that you care about their needs; it shows that you genuinely want your readers to get your ideas, such that you will go to extra effort to get those ideas across. This attitude is important. I hope you see it in my writing.
Coordinating Conjunctions Create Transitions
So, what do coordinating conjunctions have to do with transitions?
Everything. Coordinating conjunctions are a great way to create spontaneity in your writing. They are not so stodgy and self-important as words like however, thus, or therefore. Who talks like that, anyway? Why can’t our writing and our speaking be one?
I think for the best writers, writing and speaking are one. For many academic writers, they are not. (That’s one reason that almost no one—not even academics—really enjoys reading academic prose, although they may pretend to enjoy it. Sure, they may enjoy the ideas that the writing expresses, but I doubt that anyone enjoys the style.)
But how exactly does starting sentences with coordinating conjunctions make your writing everyday or colloquial?
Well, imagine if I started the question above with however (which, by the way, is not a coordinating conjunction):
However, how exactly does starting sentences with coordinating conjunctions make your writing everyday or colloquial?
Ugh. That didn’t work. (One reason it didn’t work, aside from its excessive emphasis and formality, is the repetition of how in the adjacent words, however and how.
Let’s try the minimalist approach, by not using any transition word at all:
How exactly does starting sentences with coordinating conjunctions make your writing everyday or colloquial?
If you place that second sentence in context, it is broken from the ongoing discussion. It just drops on the reader, out of nowhere. The reader has to stop for a split-second to see the notion of but there. And that’s one thing you never want—your readers stopping because you failed to guide them. That’s work for the reader, work that is the writer’s responsibility. I think of those old ads with the scrubbing bubbles, and the motto: “We work hard so you don’t have to.” That’s a good rule for writers: writers should work hard so readers don’t have to.
Often though, it’s not even hard work. In many cases, providing helpful transitions for our readers requires minimal effort. Think of the example we explored above. All that transition took was a simple three-letter but to keep the reader on track—a very small effort for providing our readers with transition and clarity.
The Myth and Its Purpose
If sentence-starter conjunctions are such valuable tools for creating transitions, why do our grade-school teachers so often forbid this practice?
Meet little Billy, and his third-grade teacher, Mrs. Humperdinkle. Billy is writing a paragraph for an assignment entitled, “My Weekend.” Billy writes:
On Saturday I went to the mall with my mom. And we had a great time. And I ate a big pretzel. And Mom got me a shirt. And I got some toys. And I like to play with them. I like going to the mall. And I like seeing movies too.
Now, is little Billy using and to create transitions? Not really. He simply wants to show the idea of in addition to or next. A type of transition is created—sure—but Mrs. Humperdinkle wants to see Billy combine those related ideas into more substantial sentences, like this:
On Saturday I went to the mall with my Mom, and we had a great time. The best part was when I ate a big pretzel. Mom got me a shirt, but she also got me some nice toys. I like going to the mall, even more than I like seeing movies.
But Billy doesn’t use conjunctions to write this way. He is missing the connections between his sentences because he thinks purely in terms of “and” or “in addition to.” This exclusive use of and reflects the simplicity of a child’s perspective. In Billy’s mind, things simply coexist, or occur in sequence. They do not have relationships beyond coexistence and occurrence. Mrs. Humperdinkle wants Billy to think about relationships like cause-and-effect (indicated by connecting words like so, since, or because), and contradiction (but, yet, and although). There’s more to our complex, interconnected world than and, so our language should show that.
And, even if Billy learns to use advanced conjunctions like or, so, and but, Mrs. Humperdinkle knows that Billy needs to write longer sentences. And, no, she doesn’t want Billy’s sentences to be too long. (And, yes, Mrs. Humperdinkle knows not to call such sentences run-ons.) She does not want him to limit his writing to short, disconnected, chop-chop statements of fact. Mrs. Humperdinkle’s goal, then, is to force Billy to form sentences that describe realistic, complex relationships between people, actions, and events.
With that goal in mind, Mrs. Humperdinkle teaches little Billy to use conjunctions to join sentences. Since Billy has trouble thinking in terms of transitions between sentences, he must begin at the level of seeing transitions within sentences. Having assessed Billy’s level of development, Mrs. Humperdinkle orders the boy not to use conjunctions to begin sentences. She knows that using conjunctions only within sentences is not realistic for advanced writers, and that there are plenty of exceptions to the rule she is now teaching Billy. But she cannot say that to Billy! She must teach this temporary writing practice, not as something that will change with time, but as a set-in-stone absolute. Since Billy is a child, equivocal language will not get the point across to him. If Mrs. Humperdinkle says, “This rule will change later,” or even, “Try to avoid starting most sentences with conjunctions,” Billy may not stick with the program. Children think best in terms of absolutes, so Mrs. Humperdinkle must express even temporary developmental writing practices as absolutes.
While elementary-school teachers like Mrs. Humperdinkle are correct in absolutely forbidding students from beginning sentences with coordinating conjunctions, this approach has repercussions later in life, when the student attempts college-level writing. As with the myth of the run-on sentence, which we discussed in a previous article, the issue occurs when higher-level teachers do not recognize the myth and its effects on later writing. They never tell their students, “I’ll bet a lot of you learned in elementary or middle school not to begin sentences with coordinating conjunctions like and, but, or so. Well, you can do that now, but just don’t do it in every sentence. Here is how to do it. . . .” This is a conversation that must happen; otherwise Mr. Bill will continue to try to write like little Billy.
And so it goes. For us, seeing beyond these myths—and writing beyond them—is a must. So, free your mind, and experiment with those conjunctions. But don’t overuse them (as I am doing intentionally in this paragraph). And make sure not to use them so much that they lose their force (as they are in these sentences). And don’t forget that there is nothing wrong with the conventional method, as taught by Mrs. Humperdinkle. Combining ideas into complex, cohesive, fully expressed sentences is a good practice, from grade school to college—and beyond.
A Bit on Coordinating Conjunctions
Since this is a discussion of coordinating conjunctions, I should share a word or two on the seven coordinating conjunctions and how they function.
What is a coordinating conjunction? What does this fancy two-word term mean? Consider the first word of the term: coordinating. To coordinate is to manage things, such that they function in a certain way. If I coordinate a meeting, this is to say that I set up and organize the meeting, so that the events of that meeting will occur in an appropriate manner and sequence. In a similar way that people can coordinate the roles of other people, some words can coordinate other words. A coordinating conjunction, as per its name, coordinates.
Now, consider the second part of the term: conjunction. A conjunction, in general, is a joiner of two things. The same is true for language and grammar: a conjunction is a connector—a combiner. So, a coordinating conjunction joins two things.
With both parts of the term in mind, a coordinating conjunction is a word that joins two sentences, but also one that manages (or coordinates) the sentences it joins, by showing the relationship that connects those sentences. A coordinating conjunction—a conjunction that coordinates: ah-ha!
Coordinating conjunctions, though, go beyond coordinating and joining just sentences. They can also coordinate and join words, phrases, and even paragraphs. Still, when English teachers speak of coordinating conjunctions, they are usually referring to their function as sentence joiners—that is, taking two complete sentences, and joining them into a single sentence.
The table below lists the seven coordinating conjunctions and their essential functions. Whether you are using conjunctions to show transitions within sentences, between sentences, or even between paragraphs, always make sure to choose the best, most fitting conjunction for the job.
Coordinating Conjunction Function
and coexistence
but contradiction
yet contradiction
so cause and effect
or choice
nor additional negation
for precedes a cause or reason
Some of these conjunctions deserve a bit more explanation than this at-a-glance table provides. Compared with conjunctions like and or but, the conjunction nor is not a frequently used word, nor is the conjunction for frequently used. Let’s look briefly at nor and for, before moving on to the other conjunctions.
Conjunction: Nor
Nor is similar to and, except that it shows negation, or not-ness. It shows that a second item or statement is also not the case. You can think of nor as meaning not + and, or even not + or. (Actually, if you look closely at the word, nor, it appears to be a type of contraction for not + or. This is also true, for example, of the pronoun, none, which I think of as an abbreviated form of not + one—one reason that most hard-nosed grammarians consider none singular, and never plural.)
Like and or but, the conjunction nor can combine short items (like nouns), as well as sentences. Oftentimes, such appearances of nor are preceded in the sentence by the word, neither. (If you like fancy words, using that neither- nor combination is called a correlative conjunction—that is, a multiple-word conjunction that contains two words that correlate to one another.) Here are some examples of nor used in sentences:
I enjoy neither ironing, nor doing laundry. (neither-nor correlative conjunction)
Bob did not write his paper on time, nor did he bother to proofread. (coordinating conjunction)
I did not give Bob an A, nor a B, nor a C. (nor to combine negated items in a series)
Note: In this final example, you can replace nor with or, particularly if you want to achieve a colloquial, everyday tone. However, I think that nor is preferable in the sentence above, in that it drives home a sense of negativity through repeating a negation. (Think about it: I want my negative tone to come across, since I am not happy about Bob’s performance. By repeating nor, I am effectively saying, “No, no, and no.” I also want to sound a bit snobby and aloof, to show that I disapprove of Bob’s work. Nor achieves both of those goals perfectly.)
For: Sometimes a Conjunction, Often a Preposition
The other conjunction I want to mention is for. This word can be confusing, for it serves another role as a preposition. Notice how in the previous sentence I used for to combine two sentences. The first sentence communicates the effect (for can be confusing), and the second sentence reveals the cause of that effect (the reason for is confusing: it serves another role as a preposition). This application of for simply means because; however, using for instead of because creates a formal tone, in a very similar way that nor is more formal than or to show additional negation.
Here is an example in which for combines two sentences. Notice the effect-cause order.
Mrs. Humperdinkle asks little Billy not to begin sentences with conjunctions, for she knows that he does not yet grasp how to start sentences with coordinating conjunctions.
Here are the roles the two sentences play, when for combines them into a single statement:
Effect/Outcome: Mrs. Humperdinkle asks little Billy not to begin sentences with conjunctions.
, for
Cause/Reason: She knows that he does not yet grasp how to start sentences with coordinating conjunctions.
Quick Note: the coordinating conjunction so reverses this effect-cause order, creating a cause-effect combination. Consider the following inversion of the example above:
Mrs. Humperdinkle knows that little Billy does not yet grasp how to start sentences with coordinating conjunctions, so she asks him not to begin sentences with conjunctions.
One point that makes for a bit complex is that it also serves the role of preposition. Consider how for serves as a preposition in the sentence below. Notice also in this example that for does not combine two sentences.
I am writing this series of articles for anyone who remains daunted by writing rules they no longer find relevant.
In this sense, for is used to mean “in the service of,” or “for the benefit of.” In other contexts it can mean, “for purposes of,” as in the sentence below:
Good writers use transitions for clarity and readability.
In this second example, the prepositional version of for is very similar to the conjunctive form—that is, both communicate effect-cause relationships. I think that this similarity leads to some reluctance to use for as a conjunction, which leads many writers (and readers) to view it as a slightly old-fashioned convention. With this popular perception in mind, I like to use for as a coordinating conjunction when expressing a statement in a stern or formal tone:
I gave Bob an F grade, for he did not complete the course requirements, nor did he put forth any substantial effort in class.
(I slipped in a nor as well.—Now, that’s some aloof, stodgy stuff, isn’t it? My goal: to sound authoritative and intimidating.)
Yet vs. But
Yet and but are generally considered interchangeable. I disagree with this perception, since I find that yet and but express very different tones and formality levels in writing. While you can replace but with yet to show contradiction, never make this replacement arbitrarily. Reserve yet for those statements or assertions you would rather express in a formal or emphatic tone. Because it is not used as often as but in spoken conversation, yet is perceived—whether consciously or subconsciously—as the more formal conjunction. Use it when you want a very strong (and ever-so-slightly old-fashioned) sense of but-ness.
So What?
I like to use the common conjunctions (and, but, so, and or) to begin sentences, and often to begin paragraphs. Just as it does within sentences, the conjunction but expresses contradiction when it opens sentences. It tells the reader, “Pay attention: I’m about to say something in this sentence that goes against what I just said in the preceding sentence.” This creates suspense in the reader’s mind, especially if the writer had expressed the preceding sentence with a strong degree of conviction.
The conjunction so is similar to but, in that its role as a sentence opener serves a very similar function to its role as a sentence combiner. Whether it acts as a sentence starter or a sentence combiner, so introduces some effect or outcome to that which precedes it. But sometimes, it takes on an additional meaning when it kicks off new sentences. Simply put, so, when introducing a sentence or paragraph, can mean, “with that in mind,” or “to sum.” It tells the reader, “Okay, now think about everything I just said and move forward into this new discussion with that in mind.” It also retains its cause-and-effect quality, in the sense that it says, “Because of all that I just said to you in the previous paragraph(s), the point I am about to make is applicable and worth consideration.” The conjunction, so—a two-letter word—says all that? You’d better believe it!
So, when considering conjunctions as sentence or paragraph starters, make sure to consider that their functions, while similar to their mid-sentence applications, can change slightly. Did you see how I used so to open this paragraph? In that context, it means, “with the preceding paragraph’s content in mind.” Also, notice how so there is followed by a comma. That comma shows a pause of emphasis. It invites the reader to pause to notice that appearance of so. This pause invites the reader to reflect, for one moment, on the previous paragraph and its implications. It sets so apart, showcasing the point that so there means, “What I just said is important to what I’m about to say; don’t drop it just yet.”
This comma after the conjunction is a frequent, but not ubiquitous, practice for using conjunctions as sentence starters. How do we know when to place a comma and when to omit it? Recalling the article on the comma rule of thumb, your best guide for deciding whether to place that comma is to listen to the sentence. Read the sentence aloud, and make sure to read it naturally, in the same way that you would speak it. If you hear yourself pause after the opening conjunction, then place a comma. If the 0pening conjunction runs into the word that follows it without any pause, do not place a comma. (Note: I find that so, when used to start sentences, is followed by a comma more often than and or but.)
Coming up: Yet More Sentence Starting Myths
Well, that’s it for this myth of grade-school English. So go forth, dear reader, and use those coordinating conjunctions for all they’re worth.
It’s time now to move on to Myth #3: “Never begin sentences with because.”
Here is the link to that article:
Christopher Altman, a community-college composition specialist, is passionate about bringing the art of effective writin
g to average, everyday Americans. He has published work in the field of medieval literature, and has authored a book on advertising language entitled, Telling the Truth to Deceive: How Advertisers Manipulate the English Language. Mr. Altman is an assistant professor of English at Onondaga Community College in Syracuse, New York.
