Due-January 13^th, 2011                        Figuring It Out            Katherine Hunt

 “Yo, those jeans are smexy!”

“I know! I want them jawns in blue.”

“I want them too.”             

“I prolly cop me some of them. You know, in multiple colors. The green ones are my favorite you guys.”

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yo, what you think and why you so quiet, Katherine?” and everyone slowly turns their attention towards me.

 I give a quick shrug and give a confused face as if someone were speaking to me in a language I don’t understand.

As everyone continues to converse, I sit around and observe, I observe everyone’s moves and the words that people use and the things that people say. I’m not one to say much because most of the time I don’t know what to say, nor do I know what I feel. I don’t have everything figured out like the people around me. My voice isn’t heard enough, I lack sharing my self-expression. To think about it, once upon a time, self-expression was once key to everything, when I used to feel like I was a part of everything. That was when keeping a conversation with someone was practical.

 “Katherine how was your day?”

I Shrugs.

“Can you answer my question?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Cool, cool.”

I keep quiet

“Can you say something?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything!”

I stay silent and make a confused face.

 “Gosh, I feel like I’m speaking to a brick wall!”

I don’t reply, and I sits with a blank look, thinking.

  I felt like I didn’t want to understand the words that were being said to me. I knew I wasn’t quite communicating enough. It was as if I was Richard Rodriguez when he said, “I tried not to hear it anymore, but I heard all too well the calm easiness in the attendant’s reply.” The words were spoken so easily and with such tranquility, yet the words that I wanted to depict were lost within my thoughts. They were jumbled up the way that earphones get after being thrown in a bag with other cords.

  After trying for about two or more minutes frustration always seems to kick in, so I just stop. Something is wrong in my brain and the way I think. Something is wrong with me. It seems like everyone is on the same page, but I’m chapters behind. There’s one thing that blocks me from continuing. It’s as if I’m infatuated with my past and can’t move on to my future.

  Laughter remains the most in my memories, and feelings of acceptance no longer remain at all. I am an outsider. I don’t act or think the same way people do; I’m different. I’m aware that I’m not normal, but then again what does normal even mean? It means that people follow certain standards to be certain ways, dress with the same trends, think the same way others do. Clearly, I am don’t follow other people’s standards.

Everything used to seem so right before. Once everything was so simple and there was nothing for me to really worry about. The only thing that remains now is broken trust within myself, because the moves I make always seem to be held back. It not only frustrates others, but it frustrates me. The words don’t come out. The sounds are baffling and sound like:

 “Well, ummmm… Whaaah… wha, what-t, I men meant… t um say…”

 “Katherine, just speak! I bet what you want to say, I bet isn’t that hard to say.”

“It is. I mean… I. Don’t. Uhmm, know. I can’t express it.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try! The words that are left unspoken are the ones that hurt the most”

  The words lingered throughout my brain. All the things that people said to me were true. Well at least, I believed they were. With my round face getting hotter and redder by the minute from the frustration that I hold inside. My body begins to make my eyebrows furrow and my eyes water for no reason. This isn’t normal one bit; there has to be something is wrong me. After hearing things so many times it was unbearably remarkable that I had to take the time and attention to adhere to the situation. This was just one of those things that I just had to get used to. I had to get used to trying to speak and trying to satisfy others and myself at the same time.

  I knew that the first thing was admitting that I needed to try to change my ways, so that at least I’d be able to ensure that communication with other people was just better. The amount that I communicate with people has to be at least suitable for the encounter, enough communication so people won’t be bored, but not so much that I’m not speaking too much until people get annoyed with my presence. The goal here is communication.

  Everyday I set a new goal for myself. I may not be the most social person, but I try. I rather listen than talk, but everyone needs his or her voice to be heard. Every voice has a person behind it and a reason and a way of expression. I haven’t quite frankly found the way that I can express myself with words. It takes time.

  The time that it takes also comes with the patience and understanding. I don’t have it all figured out, but hopefully one day, I will. One day I’ll be able to say more that just “Umm… I don’t know”. The day that my voice is heard, is today. Maybe today I’m saying too much or too little, but it’s okay. In my mind, I said enough. I found the courage to realize that I’m different and not everyone communicates in the same way, but sooner or later I’ll figure it out. If I don’t ever understand how, it’s okay  because saying something is better than not saying anything. 

“Well son do ya know how mucha dats gonna will cost ya ?”

My dad responded with a sarcastic remark “ Well out of all de people not to know how much somehtin cost you shoulda.”

“I wasn’t talking to you I was talking to this young man right hereya” the clerk said

“Well sir, I can’t talk about business like that because its not my money” I said

“Well looky there this boy don learned how to talk “smart”! the clerk man said with a surprised voiced

As I looked back on that day I recall some things I had not noticed back then. A man about the age of thirty maybe, asking a twelve-year-old how much a cost was and that he went straight to me and not my dad. It didn’t come to mind that the few words I said to him gave that much of an impression about me. I didn’t mean to sound the way I did but it just came out that way. For example if they say “hey man, where you gonna be hangin your hat at later?” , I would say “Hey where are you going to be late on?”. It was because I pronounced every letter to the dot and didn’t stutter any words was because he probably though these things. I was a kid visiting his dad in Louisiana because his parents had spilt when he was just a baby. Any how during most of the year I stayed with my mother in Philadelphia, where I learned many habits I have now. One habit that I didn’t even notice I was getting was my “smart” way of talking.

This was not the only incident like itself.  As time went on I slowly understood what my southern neighbors were talking about. It was at one of my cousin’s house where I was visiting them. I was down there for the summer and they go to school earlier than me so while I was sitting playing the Wii , they were at the table doing homework.

“Michael you always be sounded smart , help your cousins with they homework”.

“Yea Michael come and help me wit dis stuff” my cousin said with a puzzled look on his face.

Now there’s nothing wrong with asking for help from someone but basing that help on how someone sounds isn’t the way to go. I ended up helping him but looking back I should have made him explain what he meant. I mean to think that to base a person on there intelligence means basing them on there manner of speaking just interest me. Even though just like before an much older and wiser person was around they still assumed that since I sounded smart I was smarter. When I looked at the homework it was still difficult for me even though I always “sound smart”.

I’m not saying that all adults are smarter than kids because I can’t say that and I’m not saying that there haven’t been times where the “sound smart” effect hasn’t been true. I was helping my uncle fix a TV but, the problem wasn’t the hardware , it was the menu on the TV. My uncle had taken the machine apart and put it back together. Then he flipped the screens and checked it for any damages. Once he had his fill of handy work I finally came from my room and read that you have to turn it on. I took the remote and did a simple motion over the button and the TV turned on.  This doesn’t prove that my uncle is a idiot but in that moment I had more power because I understood that more. It had nothing to do with the way I talked but simply because I comprehended it better.

For people from the south, they way they talk means their slower and dumber but, that’s not the only language stereotype. For New Yorkers it’s that they are rude when in truth I have met some very nice New Yorkers who could prove that old theory wrong. Its also said that New Yorkers are mean and have a short temper, this little myth could affect a New Yorkers life style. People might treat them nicer thinking that if they didn’t it could raise their temper up. This wouldn’t be giving the person any power over their life.

A quote from the article Borderlands by Glona Anzaldina , the quote says “you’re speaking the oppressors language by speaking English , you’re ruining the Spanish language”. What the quote means to me is that a language can either give or take away power. In this quote the power is being taken away because the person talking is talking the oppressors language. Oppressors are usually people who hold people down with authority so if the person is talking the language of the oppressors it means that he or she’s power is being taking away.

Another quote from the article hunger of Memory by Richard Rodriguez, the quote  “Conveyed through those sounds was the pleasuring, soothing, consoling reminder of being at home”. In this quote language gives the power of security and if language can give this power then it can also make a person feel like they do not belong in a place. Not just through words but how a person speaks can do it.

People’s own way of talking  not only gives some of their identity away but it also gives away some power by exposing that person’s way to communicate with the world. If taken correctly it could give a person a major boost in life but if that way is taken as a weakness then more than likely that person will be held back from some of their life’s goals. If talking the way you were taught is a pretention problem then people holding back from society is better than talking and being accused of “talking smart” or “speakin stupid”.  

Tyler Creighton 

English Essay Pahomov 

Do I sound like that ?

“Yo look at her hair its a hot ass mess”

“She’s just a whole f**king HAM”

“Do I look like that ?”

“ Of corse not”

“Oh ard betta not”

Behind the locker I automatically assume it’s the same group of people who always talking about people but this time I was wrong. To my surprise it was my group of friends I’m usually around. This kind of shocked me because I began to judge them by what they say and how they thought. I began to wonder to myself “Do I talk like that? Do other people hear me? What do they think?” But instead I quietly continue with what I was doing before hand.

“Ctfu I would never look like that”

“Total weirdo” 

 The chatter fades as the crowd of obnoxious girl teens walk away, I gather my things and leave.

As I was sitting on the bus on my way home later that day, I thought about the girls. I thought about how being out with these people reflects on me and what people think of me. The ignorance ,rudeness and obnoxiousness does it reflect upon me or am I apart of this? 

I could never see myself being as ignorant enough to say such things but then again I actually do. It’s become such a norm that I never even noticed what is being said or what other people hear. In school I hear my friends call people all types of names “weirdo” , or “ham” meaning  hot ass mess. I cant allow myself to be so open about my opinion or in other so harsh and be judged by people the way I'm judging them. I watch what i say around people so it wont be labeled as “Ghetto” or “Ignorant”. Although there are some parts I’m good at hiding this there are other things that are much harder. It’s a stereotype that young kids are very loud and this is what I have difficulty hiding. Most of the time it’s not even noticeable but when i do notice it and sit and listen i become a bit embarrassed and as wild as this sounds a bit disappointed.In my mind at the time staying quiet ,sitting was the only thing that was really right at that moment. 

Finally in their conversation as I listened I really began to think about these two words they say that i absolutely hate and just cant say so freely with out biting my tongue after or while I’m saying it. These are words i cant describe. They are just two words of ignorance. I feel its just so inappropriate and uncalled for. When said I feel the uerg to say something . But i don't because Im to afraid they are going to judge me on the way i speak and how its to proper “too white”. As said in ... “The curse of a moderately soulful kid trapped in a white body” Is the way I feel when I discuss these issues. It’s sort of similar to African american’s using the name nigger to categorize there color and white usually use the word dude to categorizes there , Its just what people have done over the years its “their word” .Their word meaning only their race color age or anything like them can say it and if you not in the category your wrong for doi  When I say the words the literally burn my tongue as the harsh words spits them out onto someone like burning venom. It kind of hurts me to hear these words because its a sign of disrespect and no home training.

Im not ashamed of my friends or no one else, but I also wouldn’t converse around a lot of people. Desperately I wanna be myself at times and not have to cover the way I speak and just be my self but being around people that make it that way, I cant.In the story (__) _____ Says “The brutal truth is that the bulk of white/black people in America never had a interest in educating black folks”. and my friends make it seem like we don’t have education. This quote gives me strength to be different from others and continue to sound educated. But the same way they sound different and at times uneducated to me I might sound different to many people also. My good sense tells me who i am and no matter whats around me and what I hear or how I talk I am still educated. This quote inspires to show my education by my vocabulary and expanding to to the biggest variety  as I can. Its not my job to change the minds and the way many people speak. But what I  can do is help my peers expand their vocabulary and listen and change how sound and alert others when they do also. One day I strive to  accept the way i speak and how everyone comes from different back rounds and I have to accept that to move on. 

Jordan Hairston

December 4, 2012

English Benchmark

  Reading multiple novels written by literature majors has advanced my language. If I were to say that I have been practicing this language for three years, in a lot of cases, certain cases it shows. I choose the time and place to use the intelligence I’ve come across. In places were I am known and comfortable I speak the way that I have always spoken. That’s with slurs, slangs, unnecessary sounds or silence. An over heard dinner conversation with my family would be a good example of my comfort language.

“Yo Jay, I’m feelin’ your sneakers though.”

“Right, these got me lookin’ fresh.”

“I need to snatch a pair for me.”

“I know that’s right for real.”

Having two ways of speaking is an advantage in the world I live in. Being who I am requires an explanation every now and then. In a world of confusion and judgment I have the chance to choose the time and place to switch between the two. When I’m in the state of mind where I am able to find the right words to say what I know is right, I find power in those words.

I understand the meaning behind the words of James Baldwin when he wrote, “You have confessed your parents, your youth, your school, your salary, your self-esteem, and at last your future.” In “If Black English Isn’t A Language, Then What Is It?”  Language represents power and is significant to have a higher level that represents my intelligence. It’s best for me to use my advanced language in a professional environment. However, if I were revealing who I am and who I am going to be, wouldn’t it be smarter to use the powerful language at all times? If my writings are ever read I get out of it the questions and comments on my how I chose to portray my experiences.

“I have found that putting a time limit on something important-like writing a song- further delays the significance from fully being finished. The right way.”

“You don’t have to justify everything you do.”

“But if I don’t I know that my point won’t get across without the right speech.”

“ Either way we understand what your saying. We also speak English.”

I don’t know if differing the language is right because it is the same language. The proper thing to say is differing the way the language is spoken and who it is spoken by. The question of what is the right to speak is asked. The proper way most will agree.

But what happens if I bring the two together in one place? Will it force me to lose power and fall behind? I think that I will just gain power and move forward in this world. For personality and the courage to do so. I wouldn’t want to look back in life and say what Richard Rodriguez said in “Hunger of Memory”. “In adulthood, I am embarrassed by childhood fears.” Fearing that an element such as language will bring my power down because mispronunciations and miscommunication. Language gains power depending on how well it is portrayed. Literature majors will continue to gain power because they are able to maintain communication through language.

Maleena Mel

Benchmark/ Gold Stream

My life as a Cambodian

"Omg look at that Chinese girl hair. That shit long."

"Thank You, I Said"

"The lady have to hurry up with my food mane, she is taking for ever…. Ayo Chinese girl can you

Speak Chinese and tell them to hurry up with my food because they taken forever."

"Not to be disrespectful but I aint Chinese… So can you get my race right because its annoying me."

"What?"

"You herd what I said"

"Oh This Chinese girl really tough… She sounds a little black…."

"You mix wit black, Because You sound like it"

"Look listen, I aint Chinese, nor black, I am Cambodian."

The girl looked at me really hard, and she looked really mad. So I asked her what was she looking at and is she "okay? What is a Cambodian?" I didn't explain to her what Cambodian was, so I just kept it as that and I just left and walked out of the Chinese store. Later on that day when I was walking to my cousin house my grandmother had called me. My grandmother dosen’t understand English. Really so I was speaking to her…

"Hello?"

"Gah Lena, Tewh Nah?" (Where are you going?)

"Yom Tewh Tih Monica" (Im going to Monica house)

"Tewh Twuh aye?"(Why are you going there?)

"Yom Ock Sop" (Im bored)

"Okay, Mow Tieh Mouwng tuwp" (Okay come home at 10:00 o'clock)

"Okay"

A little girl had asked me was that Chinese I was speaking. And I told her no. She said why were you talking so fast? I told her to go home because didn't your mom ever tell you not to talk to strangers? She said okay Chinese lady.

When I got to my cousins house she had a friend over and she was Puerto Rican, and when I was talking to my cousin mom her friend said were you speaking Chinese, I told her your like the 3000^th person who asked me that. Than she said are you? I responded back no, do I sound or look like I'm Chinese. And she had the nerves to say yes. I told her where was she at, and she said Monica’s house. So I asked her what was her race? She responded back Cambodian. Than I asked her this is a Cambodian home right? And she said yea. So I said now think about the question you just ask me? Than she was like oh? You still sound like your Chinese because you talk just like them, fast and never take a deep breath. I replied back with anger. So I just kept the conversation as that. My cousin tried to not make it as a big deal, but all I see is a woman that was trying to be funny. When she wasn’t. I had told Monica that it was not funny and she tried to be funny, and when it comes to my race, culture, and language I speak. People like her should not just say things out of there mouth like she did because people like me wouldn’t like it. Later that day I ignored her friend all day until finally as soon as I was getting ready to leave she came out of nowhere and apologized to me and told me that she was wrong for doing what she did, she thought it was funny but than it wasn’t because she didn’t know I would of taken it that way. I told her I take things like that seriously and she dosen’t even know me so she shouldn’t just come out of the blue with it. Afterwards I just went home and slept.

1-4-2012

 Weading and Witing is a Hawd Thing!

“Stop being a baby!”

“I don’t want to.” I said.

 It hurt that they laughed and made fun of me. Instead of helping, they shouted out sentences for me to say. After seeing that my slur was just humoring my family, I couldn’t find the confidence to speak. It tore me down and I felt like there was something wrong with me. I was the only one in my family with a speech impediment.

Whenever I could, I would go to my room and sit on my bed. Sometimes in tears as I practiced words aloud to myself, “wun, wabbit, wace”.

Waking up to go to school every morning was the best. I loved reading out loud; feeling like the instructor was special, until I realized that the class wasn’t reading along and paying attention to the book. They were listening to me stumble over words and repeating myself, laughing at me. I felt alone.

I researched a little bit, and Polish people tend to have trouble with pronouncing their r’s. One can notice my accent anywhere. Everyone always does. They say I sound like Elmer Fudd from the Looney Tunes. I could understand why people would look at me if it were an uncommon thing, however it is a very common ‘language’. “Elmer's speech impediment is so well known that Google allows the user to change the search engine language to Elmer Fudd.” (Wikipedia, Elmer - Speak).

When it came time for second grade, I decided to step up. I hated being mocked and laughed at all the time. I told my parents that all I wanted was to speak normal.

They didn’t really know how to help me, other than to have me practice words with the ‘r’ sound in it. In school, one other kid in my class had an accent problem, too. She went to the speech impediment class twice a week that my school had offered. I told my parents about the class, and they filled out all the paperwork for me to go. On the first day attending, I was a nervous wreck. Thoughts went through my head; I felt like it was the end of the world. To my surprise, we didn’t even practice working on my speech until the 4^th visit there. The teacher wanted me to become comfortable speaking around her, so that she got to know me a little bit. Every night, I would come home and practice the words on the paper she gave me. I would write them over and over again, repeating them aloud to my mom and myself.

“Were you born in New York?” asked my teacher.

“No, why does everyone think that?”

“Well, people from New York tend to have a problem with fully pronouncing their ‘r’ sounds.” she replied.

Actually, I was born and raised in Philadelphia and have lived in the same house my whole life. Never, still to this day, have I visited New York. It confused the hell out of me when I was little why everyone asked if I was from there. Now that I am older, I realize that people often judge a person by their accent, and assume they know where their from.

As I grew older, my accent became more and more unnoticeable. The two major things that impacted my speech impediment were the classes, and also experience. As I became older, I felt as though people stopped paying attention to my accent.

I listen to people when they talk and pick up on their accents. I was listening to my little sister Julianna tell me a story last summer and couldn't’ help but notice that she sounded just like me when I was younger. I sat down with her and told her to repeat some words for me.

“Say Rob.” I said.

“Wob.” She replied.

“Say race.”

“Wace.”

“Say track.”

“Twack.”

Hearing my little sister speak is the cutest thing ever. Now I know that I am not the only one in my family, so there must be some type of gene passed along. I know she will do just fine and will grow out of it. Practicing words over and over will help her strengthen her speech skills. It’s almost like hiding our language history, and changing how we speak to fit in with the ‘modern day, ordinary language!’

Sean Force

Q2 Benchmark

1-12-12

Cunfuzzling Language

“Well Tim, do you know the answer?” 

It was math class in our sixth grade year.  

“Uuuuhhhh…” Tim said in utter confusion.  “I’m cunfuzzlled” he bursts out in one of those oh-so comical moments that Tim was famous for at our old school.  

“What?” the teacher responded at this time, as she was also now confuzzled.

At this time that was the first time that I had heard this word ever used or mentioned.  Being that I was in sixth grade and this was the first time that I had ever heard the word used I naturally assumed that he had just made up the word.  At the time, I also just assumed the definition to be basically and even higher tier of confusion and bewilderment than he knew how to express with any current words that he knew of.  

“What are you doing?” My mom said one day when I was sitting on the couch playing a game on the computer.

“Sturf” I replied not really feeling like saying stuff would work there as a general enough word to fit this situation.

“Ok,” she said and walked away.

I wasn’t really all that sure of when exactly I started to say that word.  I just remember that one day I had started to use it in place of stuff where I though it was necessary to describe the things I had or that I was doing when asked.  I wasn’t really sure of where or why I had picked it up but regardless I did it’s done and now I use that word.

“Alright, orange stream today we’re going to take a walk down to the river for an activity”

It was last spring shortly before spring break.

“Hey, where are we going,” Fred said as the whole stream started to get up and walk outside while he just sat there.

“Derp, we’re going to the river the teacher just told us that” I said.

As opposed to the previous word that I didn’t know where I got it from I do know that I got this word from school and my friends.  I had heard them using it and then after I really understood that they were saying and using another word entirely to describe what they thought to be indescribable with any other words that they currently had at their disposal did I start using it.  Derp isn’t necessarily the nicest word to use but it’s not really a bad one it’s just a more over-arching version of saying or calling someone stupid.

In “How to tame a WIld Tongue” by Gloria Anzldúa the author while talking about how one of the languages that she uses came to be states, “Chicano Spanish sprang out of the Chicanos’ need to identify ourselves as a distinct people. We needed a language with which we could communicate with ourselves, a secret language. For some of us, language is a homeland closer than the Southwest”.  The Chicanos developed their own language that they thought could describe what they needed to be described when they couldn’t use the language that they knew to describe what they needed to describe anymore.

Several years ago, when I was in the third grade, I read a book called, Frindle. It was a really funny book about a boy who finds a pen.  He decided to call it a frindle just to see what would happen.  As the school year progressed, his friends go along with it, but his teacher is not so excited.  Soon, the whole school is calling a pen a “frindle”.  The media catches wind of it and then a company begins selling frindles, and apparel with the word frindle on it. By the end of the story, the boy, a man now, receives a copy of a new dictionary with the word frindle in it.  This story really got me thinking about how people just will make up the words to describe what needs to be described.

Long ago someone decided a couch would be called a couch and a book, a book.  Why was that?  Making up new words to describe the situation we’re in or the surroundings that we have is something that we all do.  People needed to communicate with each other with more than just pictures.  Soon these new words were accepted by others, used by society, and became the norm.  The words became part of our daily usage.  Our ever changing culture with recently developed ideas and inventions, add new words to our language constantly.  If human nature follows its current path, there will be much more confuzzling language to come.

            The Way You Speak is Your Stamp of Who You Are!!

Where can I start? I had so many people say that I talk with an country accent, I’ve been made fun of because I can’t pronounce words right, and I have been corrected to not talk like I’m in the streets. I had to deal with being told how to pronounce words right, and how to say a proper sentence. I used to get so mad when people corrected me. I used to curse them out, stab them, hit them, and even choke them. I used to do anything to get them out of my face. I would do it because they made me feel bad about myself. They hurt me, so in return I had to hurt them. The way you speak can tell people where you grew up and who you grew up with.

            I remember when I was in the sixth grade and two girls that were in my class made fun of the way I pronounced street. We were in the classroom in our reading groups, we all had to read a paragraph out loud. As I was reading they began to laugh, I was confused because they were the only ones laughing.

“What’s so funny? Y’all the only ones laufin!” I said.

“Can you reread that sentence?” one of the girls asked.

“…he kicked my ball across the street.” They laughed again. I didn’t know why until they said that I pronounced street wrong. The way I pronounced it sounded like

“he kicked my ball across the shkreet.” To me it sounded like I pronouncing it like “street” but I wasn’t. It made me so furious, I started cursing them out really loud.

“How you gon’ try and judge me when you look like a silverback monkey? Get yo ‘hairy a** away from me. And you get the f**k away from me wit yo no neck havin’ a**. Go ahead wit yo’self, you dikes.” They were judging me because I say some words with a country accent. I’m not from the country or anything, but my family and I go to South Carolina every summer, so the way they speak clings to my tongue. Like when I say “dog”, I don’t say dog but I say,

“Dhog.” to me it sounds as if I’m saying “dog” but to others it sounds like “dhog”. At home my family doesn’t notice it because they speak just like me. And another thing, I don’t get how they their judging me when they speak nearly the same language as me. They didn’t speak “upper English”, but they spoke slang with “good English”.

            At the time, it seem that I only had a hard time pronouncing str and scr words, and that I sometimes sound country. I never thought that the language that I spoke and speak would be considered as “ghetto English”. Speaking “ghetto English” can tell the person you’re talking to a lot about you. It can tell where you live, who you live with, what type of school you went too, and even your education level. I never paid any attention to the way I talked because everybody around me talked just like me. I thought I was speaking English, but other people knew I was speaking “ghetto English”. The way I talked didn’t begin to bother me until I came to SLA. It was then when I realized that I wasn’t speaking “normal English”.

            In “How to Tame a Wild Tongue” by Glona Anzaldoa, there’s a girl who tells how at home and with her friends she can speak a normal language. A language that they all grew up speaking, but when she’s in school, she must speak another language. “My home tongues are the languages, I speak with my sister, brothers, with friends. From school, he media and job situations, I’ve picked up standard and working class English.” I feel the same way as she does, when I’m at home I don’t have to watch my tongue. I can pronounce things the way I want to pronounce them without being corrected.

            Now that I go to SLA I have been getting correct almost everyday on how to say a sentence right.

“ You doing anythin’ Friday?”

“You mean, ‘Are you doing anything this Friday?’” she corrects me.

“You wanna com’ downtown wit me?”

“Do you want to come with me downtown?” she corrects me again. I used to hate when people corrected me. I used to snap and curse people out when they corrected me. However I don’t do that now, I take what they say and practice my pronunciation. Instead of snapping on them, I practice because I know a lot of people judge you on the way you talk.  I stopped snapping because it was only getting me in trouble and I didn’t want to keep getting suspended because it was only making me look bad. I practice everyday and I’m starting to learn how to speak “normal English” even when I’m with my friends from home. I used to code switch but that takes too much work, I rather speak one language and try to change the way they speak. I know it may not sound right, but I know that if they want a good job they must be able to code switch or speak “good English”.

            The way you speak is a stamp to tell people where you come from, unless you train yourself to speak better then you can fool people. However if you cannot code switch or change the way you speak, you’re labeled so people know everything about you. I’m learning how to change my language so that people would know everything about me. Some people even think that it tells people your education level, I don’t think so because I’m a smart person with a GPA of 3.73. Even though I have a good GPA, the way I talk doesn’t seem like it.  

" You sound stupid! Use the right grammar; I don't know how you get straight A's. People judge you by how you talk, you know that?"

In my head, I’m saying It’s you and me here mom. Nobody can hear me.

But I whispered “Ok”

I never understood language. We all say the same words. If you understand what I’m saying than, why speak exactly proper? People going judge you anyway. If you really got something wrong with you then you get picked apart piece by piece. “Language is power!” That's what my mother always says. I just thought language is one part of the puzzle to how someone can judge you. Race and language relate in away. A black person talk ignorant it's "normal". A white person talk ignorant, they are considered to be talking "black". A black person talks proper they are consider to be talking "white".

“Hey Guys, how are you?”

“Yo Sarena, You black! Cut that shit out!”

“What? I was serious.”

“Why you talking like you white?”

“I was talking normal, I always talk like this.”

“You irk* Me, I swear!”

Just the thought of getting judged by the way you talk, is mind-boggling. You use language to communicate, if you understand me why should I change the way I talk to you? Now when I approach my friends, I talk to them like I’m from the “street”. I speak differently all the time. Speaking to my friends is totally different from when I speak to a teacher now.

“Yo, Sarena”

“Wassup, what you been up to”

“Chilling you know girl”

When I talk to my teacher we have the same conversation just with different words.

 “Hello.”

*Irk- means annoy

“How have you been Sarena?”

“I have been fine, and you?”

“I have been fine, thank you for asking.”

James Baldwin once said, “What joins all languages, and all men, is the necessity to confront life, in order, not inconceivably, to outwit death.” Meaning the way my friends and me speak is not taught in school. But proper English is. So the way I talk to my friends and to my teacher is totally different. I wonder, do I change my speech for acceptance? Makes me think about my Identity and who I truly am. I told my great grandmother about my thoughts. Here comes the lecture!

“You got two strikes against you. Being black and being a woman. You can give people excuses to bring you down. If you do, they will use it to their advantage."

“But how, Granny?”

“Most white people think that African Americans are stupid and can’t do what they do.”

“But I’m smart period.”

“By not talking proper, dressing right, and looking presentable. They will look at you like the average black woman. When I was growing up, woman cooked and clean. We spoke our proper English down Flordia, no education really. But the white folk just acted and treated us like we were stupid. When we were slaves, they didn’t even look at us like we were humans. I’m 89; African Americans can do so much now. Including getting an education. Don’t mess it up! That’s all I’m saying, baby.”

I nodded in agreement.

I looked into my great grandmothers eyes, and saw how much she cared. She made me realize that it’s not all about language. I had the pieces to the puzzle but it was never coming together. Language, race, environments, and society are all joined together, most of the time. When my grandmother said, “We spoke our proper English down Florida, no education really.” I formed a question, what’s proper English? Maybe that’s not the question, what’s proper English to people? Where you come from can determine how you talk. One area can think a person from a different area is talking incorrectly. So when my mother said " You sound stupid! Use the right grammar, I don't know how you get straight A's.” She was questioning my education, which is what many do. The reason my mother tells me this is because she didn’t teach me to talk that way. The environment I’m in the most is the way I talk, but sometimes when I change my environment I may speak how I do in a total different environment. They tell me to talk “proper” because the way they talk is different or somewhat “correct”. But didn’t someone create English and other languages. Why can’t I create words and language? New words get added to the dictionary everyday. Maybe you have to be a professor to makes words. Words have meaning, vowels, and letters. Easy to make, but why call my words or words that’s not “correct”, slang. Strangely, what they don’t know that I know is, Race, environments, and society makes up the way a person speak. Not how educated you are, and how well you follow the rules of “proper” English.

“Hey can you pass the plain begels?
“What did you say?”
“Pass the plain BEGELS!”

Pointing at a bagel and in one of those smart-ass tones he replies, “Oh, you want this?”

Frustrated, I say “yes.”

As the days went on, and we had bagels for breakfast every morning more people started to notice how I speak and pronounce things differently. For the first week and half most people’s reactions were

“What?”

“Uhh?”

“Wait, what?”

“How do you pronounce this?
Or one of the most common one, “hahahahahaha!”

I have to admit, it was annoying after awhile. I would always try to explain to people that’s how I have said ‘bagel’ my whole life. Then I would have to pronounce other words I say weirdly. Everyone would be talking to me, asking to say different words. Each word I said, more people would come up to listen, staring at my mouth watching words come out, but hearing it differently then them. It was almost if everyday someone would come up to me with a different word to say. All ears open to just hear it be said wrong.

In James Baldwin’s essay, “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell me, What is?” he says,  “It goes without saying, then, that language is also a political instrument, means, and proof of power. It is the most vivid and crucial key to identify: It reveals the private identity, and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity.”  Speaking the way I speak and pronouncing words differently then others can put me in a disadvantage or an advantage depending on how people look at it. I may be able to have power with the way I speak because people may listen to me since I sound different. It can also be a disadvantage because I say words differently people may judge and not want to listen. In some circumstances language can give me power. It depends on how people identify me based on the way I speak. Just because I talk loudly doesn’t mean people are going to listen.

With the way I talk and pronounce different words, it can cause conflict anywhere. This can mean when I am in public, people may not understand what I am trying to say. James Baldwin mentions in “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell me, What is?” how conflict can and does occur. “A Frenchman living in Paris speaks a subtly and crucially different language from that of the man living Marseilles; neither sounds very much like a man living in Quebec; and they would all have great difficulty in apprehending what the a man from Guadeloupe, or Martinique, is saying, to say nothing of the man from Senegal although the “common” language of all these areas is French.” Every time I try to pronounce different words to other people who speak English still have to ask me what I mean because of how I say words. These are the things that cause conflict because of misunderstanding but in the same language.

Language can describe a lot about a person. People can hear me say one sentence and judge how I speak. Not getting to know me, or even waiting to hear another sentence with words I pronounce “correctly”. How I say one word someone else may say it totally different only a few miles away. It can sometimes show the location of where one lives or is from. As I traveled the United States this summer on a teen tour it really showed that I was well represented from where I was from. There were the stereotypical accents from the south and I was not the only one that pronounced words differently. It showed me that everyone in the world has their own way of speaking. I learned it is unique and no one should be ashamed of his or her accent or how they pronounce certain words. I now don’t mind when people ask me over, and over again how I pronounce certain words.

The places I went to and the experiences I had this summer changed my outlook on language. The forty-four people I spent six and half weeks with on a coach bus from all over the United States were the ones that picked at the way I spoke the most. We all realized that we each said something weird or different because of where we were from. It was kind of likes learning our own foreign language. It was a mixed language of how we all talk that was unique and special to only us. In the beginning weeks conflict occurred with mixes of accents and pronunciation but later on we go used to it. I did not have to listen and judge how other people spoke because I and the other forty-four teenagers on my bus all realized we had our own identification. I was happy to see where my language fit in, in the world.