Language and Identity                              

    Language, the way you speak, shows a lot about your identity. Where I live, the way I talk might sound really strange to someone who lives in Canada because they’re both different accents. Language has a huge impact on people’s lives. Say if you were going to a job interview and you talk with a kind of slang and the person who is also going for the same interview talk more “properly”, the person who talks in a proper way is more likely to get the job. Why? Because it is easier to understand what they are saying, and they seem more professional. This might not be fair, it might not be your fault if you talk with slang. It might just be where you grew up or the people you were around most could influence the way you speak.

   “Ms. Bier told me my legs were completely bent doing basically every trick. Now she’s making me practice pointing and straightening my legs. I my routine was good, she never comments on the good things I do.”

    “Sometimes when you talk your accent gets really bad. It’s so easy to tell you’re from Roxborough. It’s really funny.” My friend Vanessa really confused me when she said that. What did she mean Roxborough accent? Roxborough’s only ten minutes away from where she lived, she talks the same way I do. My friend would make comments like that all the time, she would say I talked almost as if I was from South Philadelphia, which apparently sounds different from other places in Philadelphia. Vanessa said it’s really easy to tell where I live. That got me thinking about the way I speak. It was the first time someone has ever commented on the way I talk. I didn’t think I sounded any different from the way she did. She almost made fun of the way I would say some words, and would repeat them in almost a mocking way. When she would point out the words I would say “weirdly” I would become very aware of the way I pronounced my words. Before I’d say a word I’d make a conscious effort not to sound like I was from Roxborough because my friend almost made it seem like my accent made me sound dumb. I started to listen to the people from my neighborhood speak, and I too began to think they did have weird accents. Because I was so conscious of the way I talked in front of my friends not from Roxborough, I think I trained myself to lose the accent, if you could even call it that. I would also listen to the way my family spoke to see if I could tell a difference in their voices. I noticed my grandma talked different from my aunt. My grandma was raised in North Philly, and my aunt was raised is Wissahickon. My grandma didn’t have a very distinct way of talking, she talked “normally” but my aunt sounded like most of the people in my neighborhood.

    I’m really aware of the way people, including myself, talk now. I don’t necessarily judge them and put labels on them if they speak different then me. I find it interesting when I listen to the way people in my neighborhood speak, if you go down to lower Roxborough a lot of people have a very distinct way of talking. You can really hear it when they say words with r’s because they kind of drag it out in a way. Now that I pay more attention to speech, I’ve noticed that people that are higher up when it comes to jobs, don’t talk with slang. They pronounce every word in a way that is very clear and understandable. You don’t see a lot of people who speak in almost a slang type way in higher up job. When you think of the president, you think of an all American man or woman who is very proper and prosise not someone who . When people hear someone talking with slang, they assume they are not well educated. That could be why people who talk with slang either change the way the speak so they can have to higher job position, or they do not get hired. Just because someone does talk in slang may not mean they are not well educated.

    I never realized language was a part of my identity. Nor did I realize I had an accent, people from places like where I live generally don’t realize that the way we speak is different. We aren’t really known for our accents like other places may be, like some of the southern states, or Boston. I never realized that it was a part of my identity until it was pointed out to me. Of course, I associated accents with the identity of other people because it was so obvious, if english was their second language. Language is a huge part of everyone’s identity. It doesn’t identify how educated someone is, as many people associate the two. It does however show where you live in the world because of the way you talk. Many people never think of language as something you can be identified with, personally I do.

It was the night of my SLA interview. My mom dropped me off in the morning, around 9 am and we all traveled up to the fifth floor and settled in the 10th and 11th grade english classroom.  The huge windows showcased the picturesque Philadelphia skyline. The suns rays reflected off of the buildings and made room warm and cozy.  It was beautiful.  As the hours passed, the kids left one by one, until, I was the only person in the medium sized classroom. It was pitch black outside and the room was dead silent.

“It’s your turn.”

I slowly stood up, made my way to the door, and we walked around the corner in the vacant hallways. My hands were clammy and shaking from my uncontrollable nerves. We approached the classroom door and the girl turned over slightly to look at me. ”It’s ok to be nervous. Just be yourself and you’ll do great.”

“Thanks.” I tried my hardest to create a smile that didn’t look overly forced. I failed. I pushed open the door. The man and the student next to him both smiled and welcomed me in. I kept making mental notes to remind myself to enunciate my words and pronounce all of my vowels. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was unprofessional. The man and the student began to ask me questions about my project. The whole time I was zoned out trying to suck back all of um’s, like’s, and so’s that were forcefully trying to creep their way back into my sentences.

“What do you think you can bring to the SLA community?”

“I ...ah ...wahhh...I...umm… could you repeat the question please?”My face was bright red and my hands were soaking wet. But most importantly I knew exactly what the man had just asked me, i was trying to think of something that sounded interesting. I was also trying to redeem myself for saying umm so many times I just needed to breathe and put on a different persona.

“Yes of course sweet heart. What do you think you can bring to the SLA community?”

“I believe that I can end cliques and also I could just be a person that anyone can talk to.”  

Nervous was an understatement. I felt as if I had to erase all of the “Tianna” out of my system and try to become someone else. In The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingstan, the protagonist’s mother cuts the tongue of her daughter to help her speak, and in his quote she is explaining why. ”I cut [your tongue] so that you would not be tongue-tied. Your tongue would be able to move in any language. You’ll be able to speak languages that are completely different from one another. You’ll be able to pronounce anything.”

The way you talk is sort of like a sponge. It is made up of your environment, your city, your age, in some cases your race or sex. Most of those things are things that people use to make assumptions about your character. It is easy for them to judge you based off of the way you speak because everything that makes up the way you speak can also be used to discriminate against you. So in order to avoid that, people feel the need to code switch so that people can not make false assumptions about who you are and where you come from.

When the author says “cut your tongue ... your tongue will be able to move in any language“, it reminds me of when you code switch. You cut all the ties that connect you to where you come and many more things that make you, you.

Code switching is when you switch the way you talk when you enter a different setting. There are many different reasons why people code switch. One example would be, when you switch from speaking slang with your friends to speaking standard english when you have a conference with a teacher. Another example would be when you speak spanish at home and you switch to speak english outside of the home.

In the passage “Hunger of Memory” by Richard Rodriguez , Richard describes growing up in Sacramento with his Mexican immigrant parents. In the quote on page 13, Richard explains how his parents have two different personas, one in the comfort of their home and one for when they have to speak to people in a more formal setting outside of the home.“In public, my father and mother spoke a hesitant, accented, not always grammatical English. And they would have to strain-their bodies tense-to catch the sense of what was rapidly said by los gringos. At home they spoke Spanish. The language of their Mexican past sounded in counterpoint to the English of public society. The words would come quickly, with ease. Conveyed through those sounds was the pleasing, soothing, consoling reminder of being at home.” Richard explains how his parents had to acquiesce in order to get what they need so that they could get ahead. Similar to Richards parents  I also had to acquiesce to a different vernacular that was deemed socially acceptable which was different to the way I’m used to speaking.

¨ Who is it?¨

¨Ummm, someone named Charles.¨

¨Oh, that’s my client from work. Here, pass me my phone.¨

I grab her purse and blindly forage for her phone.

¨C’mon hurry up!¨

¨Wait a minute...almost got it¨

I quickly hand her the device and watch as she answers the man on the other side of the line.

¨Hello? Charles?  Why yes, this is Amy Silveri from Quality Progressions…. Pardon? Yes, I will be visiting your house for a brief meeting regarding the placement of your child...¨

This is a daily routine that I see everyday with the interaction I have with my mom. Now anyone who’s grown up in a black household knows that they’re parents always change the way they talk depending on who they’re talking too and depending on that person’s race. For years I’ve heard my mom’s voice change from her work environment to her social environment. And it wasn’t until recently where I’ve noticed that I do this as well.

There are three types of Jaiye’s.

The white Jaiye.

The black Jaiye.

And the regular Jaiye.

The white Jaiye can be described as the voice I use when I talk to everyday white people. White people I see at school, who I see at supermarkets, who I see walking down the street. My voice suddenly becomes higher and softer and my vocabulary immediately advances. I speak more slowly and my facial expression changes. I make sure to smile and to always appear happy, as if everything is going great. And as I’m doing this, I think to myself, ¨ I hope they don’t think I’m ghetto.¨ and all the other negative stereotypes attributed with blacks. As soon as a white person speaks to me my brain instantaneously reminds myself to ¨Change your voice!¨, and in doing this I automatically become a new person, a new identity, an alternate self. It all becomes a facade.

The black Jaiye is alternately, the voice I use with my blacks peers. It’s the voice where I’m most comfortable with. It allows me to express my individuality better and I feel more accepted with the fact that I’m black. I feel more connected with my roots and the life that we as blacks live. My words become a constant blur; I talk faster, louder and I use slang. ¨Hi¨ or ¨hello¨, becomes ¨Yo¨ or ¨wassup¨. ¨Isn’t¨ becomes ¨ain’t¨.  I use words like ¨jawn¨ and ¨drawlin’¨, words that are indigenous to Philly and that I hear everyday . My native tongue.

And the regular Jaiye is a combination of the two. My language neither leans towards the white dialect or the black dialect. My tongue isn’t biased. I find myself using this the most throughout my everyday life. It has the perfect amount of respect and proper mannerism yet it still holds onto my personality and characteristics that derived from me being African American. The slang and the style is still there yet there’s a proper sophistication in the way that I enunciate the words as they leave my mouth. In doing so, I’m not judged for being too black or too white; too ¨ghetto¨”or too ¨snobby¨.

Throughout my entire life I’ve always had these different personas and evidently, the reasons why I code switch is because of the influence that language and dialect has on today’s society and the way we are viewed as people, especially for a young  African American woman in America.

James Baldwin, a well known African American writer who tackled the topics of race and oppression as well as the topic of African Americans in the white man’s society, wrote an essay on the influence of language on blacks in America and how it has influenced the way we live today. He explained that the way we speak, impacts the social recognition of African Americans, as well as other people of color, stating that, ¨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.¨ Our language, dialect and accent gives us power in this world.  As black Americans, it is prime that we remind ourselves to code switch,  in a society where the mass majority does not see us as intelligent or deemed fit enough into today’s society and a primary reason for this is because of the way we speak. Brought over to this country as slaves, English was never our original language nor was our dialects natural to English. We all developed various accents that people would describe as ¨ghetto¨ and for that, the world views us as ignorant belligerent fools who deserve no chances in life. In doing so, we retain back all power lost and all of the stereotypes pin-pointed towards us are then withdrawn.

As for most blacks, code switching isn't something that we want to do. It’s something that we’re forced to do to reject oppression. People tend to judge us off of our tongue and because of that, we do not get the same opportunities as others. Because of this, the vast majority of blacks live in a life reflected upon poverty, imprisonment, drugs and negativity. But who are we to change who we are to fit the social norm? It is not our fault that we speak like this. We were forced to, and in the end, we've adapted the various dialects and accents that travel across this country. Code-switching is appropriate when needed, but don’t change the way you speak entirely. Language mirrors identity.

Thirty or so kids, all from different neighborhoods which make up the small city of East Providence, claimed seats in a tiny classroom, on the first day of 2nd grade. As a way to introduce ourselves to the class, our task was to write a short paragraph about who we were (the question of identity, in the eyes of a second grader, offers a pretty open ended answer). I began my introduction, Hi, I’m Ella Donesky and I was born in Toronto, Canada. My favorite colour is green. The next day, my paper was returned with a red “x” over the “u” in “colour.”

My dad is Canadian and he speaks Canadian English. Though I was also born in Canada, the majority of my life was spent in in the United States, first in East Providence, Rhode Island and then in Seattle, Washington. Rhode Island, the smallest state, is divided down the middle by the Narragansett Bay and the Pawtucket River. The result is the east side of Rhode Island seems to have been influenced by Massachusetts and Boston, and west side of Rhode Island more by Connecticut. Growing up on the eastern side, my friends, neighbors and classmates spoke with accents similar to the Bostonian accent. I, however, spoke like my parents and their friends (further, I only ever spoke Bulgarian with my mother unless there were other people around). My dad taught at Brown University and my mom taught at RISD, with are both across the river from where we lived. The English I learned was the Canadian English my dad spoke with me. He also taught me how to read before I started Kindergarten in the USA, and I went to daycare in Toronto before moving to Providence. Nearly all of the books we owned were Canadian books with Canadian spelling. In addition to acquiring my dad’s accent and writing, a few of his “Canadianisms” slipped into my vocabulary.

“Pass the clicker,” I would say to my friend, sitting beside me on the couch.

“Oh, you mean the remote?”

Sometimes, they wouldn’t understand what I was trying to communicate.

“Grab a few serviettes and we’ll clean up this mess.”

“A serviette?” They would ask.

“Sorry, napkin.”

I didn’t know if I should call someone’s aunt “ant” or “ont”.

The confusion that would follow my use of the jargon was an indicator that these words were not ones they typically heard in their home or neighborhood. Not only that, but it made more clear that there were differences in the way I spoke and the way my peers spoke. In spite of the differences, it never occurred to me to try and change the way I speak. After all, I didn’t think I was speaking incorrectly, I was speaking the language my parents taught me, and the language I spoke with them at home. It felt entirely natural and I was fine with the differences with others.

This may clarify why in my six years living in Rhode Island, I didn’t adopt the Rhode Island dialect. A friend of mine grew up in a household where both her parents spoke with British accents and her accent sounds identical to her parents’. Yet, she lives in Newton, Massachusetts. The one word I picked up in Rhode Island and continue to use, is “bubbler,” or what you would more commonly refer to as a drinking fountain. I rarely use Canadian English, now, and it’s very easy to switch between the two, but during my early formative years, this was the only English I knew (I also spoke fluent Bulgarian exclusively with my mother). Throughout elementary school, it was confusing to me when words that were very naturally a part of my vocabulary and to which I didn’t give a second thought, were considered incorrect. To my peers, these words were foreign. The differences in the language I used when compared to the language my classmates used was only made more noticeable. My teachers began to understand that I wasn’t making spelling errors or using an incorrect form of English, I was writing and speaking in a more “Britishized” version of the English language, which is in use in Canada, the form of English I was most used to and in which I was first taught.

In East Providence, there are two predominant speaking groups, recent immigrants, and those whose family have lived in East Providence for generations. Among my peers, my perceived accent acted as a sort of third type. Accents often suggest socio-economic status, level of education and whether you are an immigrant or not. All of these may have been an issue for me. However, at the time, I wasn’t so aware of the politics. Among my friends parents were professors, doctors, and lawyers as well as janitors and factory workers, etc. My awareness was just that of difference, but not of judgmental difference. Difference was fairly neutral at the time. I only became of aware of the differences when my friends would come over to my house and say “Your dad sounds funny,” or “Your mom talks weird.” My friends pointed out their accents, but I didn’t hear it.

My move to Seattle was a culture shock, or lack thereof. Accents didn’t come up much. Seattle is not known for having a strong local, regional accent. It’s an American town, but it’s very close to the neutral seeming accent that is largely northwest and not so different from the way Canadians speak. So my dad and I didn’t stand out. But my mom did. I’d gone from living in an environment where diversity was the norm to living in a mostly white city with very little diversity. Unlike regions in the UK, for example, which carry distinct regional accents from areas that are not to far apart and are often indicators of status, these factors were hardly identifiable in my classmates. My friends would tell me “Your dad sounds like a professor,” and he was a professor. My mom was also a professor, but no one said the same about her. I believe it was because she had a Bulgarian accent. Furthermore, my grandmother speaks five languages, including english, but when she was in America, my friends only heard a old lady who spoke English with an accent, and they may have made negative assumptions. Most Americans can’t tell if British people are smart or stupid, as the joke goes, because British accents have long been associated with education and being upper class. Accents are tricky and you have to be very careful about how completely you rely on them to create your perception of someone. In James Baldwin’s “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is?” he discusses language and what it reveals about the speaker “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.” The identity of myself, my father, my mother and my grandmother all became filtered through these issues and changed according to context.

Two years ago, my family moved to Philadelphia. Known for it’s distinct accent, Philadelphia offered a slightly more diverse environment for me than Seattle. Though it was still primarily black and white, the ethnicities were more evenly dispersed. Science Leadership Academy is not a white suburban school, unlike my middle school. It seemed that I wasn’t perceived as speaking that differently, however, until it became known that I was Canadian. What people know about Canada gave them their impressions of me, and the stereotypes simply didn’t hold.

“Say ‘aboot’.”

“About.”

“No, no, no. You’re Canadian, say ‘aboot’.”

“About.”

“M’kay, say ‘eh’,”

“Say ‘water’,”

“Wooder.”

I remember driving across the country from Providence to Seattle in a big “Penske” truck, nudged between my mom, dad and dog, entertaining myself and them with all of the accents I could conjure. At the time, it didn’t occur to me that this could be offensive to anyone, because I didn’t experience it that way. It was simply a response to my growing up in multicultural environments. Today, I’d be more careful in order to avoid seeming disrespectful.

  "Why don't you speak Spanish in this house boy?" My father said for the seventh time today...in Spanish. "If you can understand my english, then why should I speak Spanish if I prefer speaking English?" I replied. He did not say anything after that. He hated it when his kids spoke to him in English then. Since we were "born Spanish" he wanted us to speak Spanish. He especially hated when we would use English slang around him. This whole language problem caused tension in the house for about half a year. Whenever we were at his friend's houses and spoke English, I could tell by his facial expressions that he was embarrassed that his friend's kids had no problems with speaking Spanish but we did. "Why don't you repeat that in Spanish?" He would ask. Me and my sisters all thought the way he acted was so ridiculous. But it kept on going for almost half a year. It also only began to get worse after some time.

   "You know what...I don't care anymore" he said randomly one day in the car. "You guys want to speak your language then go ahead." To my father, being able to speak perfect Spanish makes us the “perfect” Puerto Ricans, he thought that if every Puerto Rican he knew could speak great Spanish, then we as his kids should be able to as well. I felt relieved about that but it was just the beginning of my problems with the way I talk. I started talking more and more like the people I hung around. I began using way too much slang and that wasn't just a problem for my dad but it was a problem for some of my teachers at school as well. One day, fifth grade, I had a presentation to do on a project about grizzly bears. "Your voice was too low and I could not understand some of the words you were using...what is 'trynna'?" My fifth grade teacher, Ms. Schuler, said right after she told me I failed my presentation. I honestly felt like she was being racist for grading me on the way I spoke...it was a science presentation. Other students were surprised because they thought that I had one of the most well presented project. I didn't feel like talking for the rest of the day because I felt embarrassed. The way I speak is one of the main things that shape me so why is it a problem with other people? I have an A in every class so why is the way I speak so bad? I had so much hate for my teacher that day. Since my mother were together at the time, all I could do was go home and complain to her.

   "I tried to tell you that your 'friends' are bad influences" my mother said. I didn't think so though. They were are my "brothers." Even to this day they are. “Pshh, she trippin’ bro. She actin’ like I be smokin’ bud or something,” my friend Derrick said after I told him. I eventually got over it and ended up having no problems with the way I talked till I got to seventh grade. Science class. The teacher Mr. Dukulah, you might recognize him as the teacher who was prosecuted for sexually abusing a family member for eight years. His speech was no better than anybody's speech in the class, actually the school. He had a really strong African accent and sounded just like the one comedian Michael Blackson but he felt as if he spoke perfectly fine. He would even judge the way we talked. That class was difficult for everyone because he thought the way everyone was speaking was incorrect. People hated him. When we heard that he was arrested everyone was shocked and sort of thought that it was funny. People use to say he was a rapist because of the way he use to look at the girls in class. He would even make them do unnecessary things that they did not want to do. So it was ironic that he was charged with rape. Everyone failed most of their presentations because of what he thought was “good speech”. He taught in Africa a couple years before he came to the middle school I attended so he was accustomed to people having strong African accents. It is like the world is separated by languages.

   I not only have have been in bad situations because of the way I speak though. In eight grade I won a poetry contest because of my speech:

"Am I really good at this or is the truth untold ?

Either way ya fear shouldn't deny ya goals

Always heard first sight shouldn't defy ya goals

But if often times I'm right then sorry that's the way it goes

Say if time froze would you spend the time to right ya wrongs..."

Everyone in the lunchroom, snapping as I "spit" the poem like a rap. Afterwards I had people coming up to me like "yo the way you said that one line made the whole thing crazy!" I felt great because for once, the way I spoke was a good thing...people began to like it because supposedly it had "style".

   Speeches around the world are all so different though and they can be a good thing or a bad thing. For example, for certain men a woman with a certain accent could be the perfect wife. For a movie director, an actor with a specific accent could be a star. But for a national or worldwide company, not being able to speak “proper” could be what gives them bad reviews. It things like this that make language and speech a blessing and a curse.

   In 'If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is?' by James Baldwin, he says "Language, also, far more dubiously, is meant to define...". He means a completely different thing but to me this quote is very critical to what I am explaining in this essay. Language is meant to define and to translate, not a way to show class or intelegence. For example, in my poem, people did not really care how I was saying the words. Yes my accent supposedly made it "crazier" but people cared more about what I was saying than the way I said it. The world does not understand that everyone speaks differently. To some people from different countries, the way we speak English could be completely differentfrom the way they do.

   The north and the south are split with accents just like the east and the west. Language and accents could be good and bad depending on where you are located. But the big question is: was there or is there a “correct” accent somewhere out in the world or will was the world always separated because of speech? I have experienced speech prejudice in both good and bad ways and it is reasons and questions like this that make language and speech such a mystery...almost like a story that has not been fully told.

When I was younger language was a conflict in my home and it still is most times because I have to switch from English to Albanian and sometimes when I help my parents to English then translate to Albanian then when that's done I have remember to show my brother that he should speak Albanian because it his first language even if he has great understanding speaking should come first because it his culture. Then after that I have school and in the beginning for me  language in school was quite difficult to speak to because sometimes the transaction it would confuse me I remember once being in class doing my work and teacher calls on me asking me Also what is the author saying in the text I say “He is saying that too much good thing is sometimes bad” and I thought I had answered right but the teacher and students are looking at me like I am a little green man from another planet and I am asking them take me to your leader.

I repeated myself again and as the word “He” came out my mouth I realized that I was talking Albanian they had right look at me like that as I tried to mumble up some sort of and apologize to my teacher while I heard the laughter of an entire class I just wished that I could end the day already. That was the first and not last time that I have confused my languages together I mix them up every once and a while because the constant switch between it has become a reflex if that's best way to word it so most time I will just talk and the switch just happens I really don't know why it happens but I have tried stop it best I can which has cause me to lose accent that people use to say that I used to have Twenty-four seven  but a part of it I have and will never lose because it my connection to who I am. When I look back now to all mistakes I used make and the blurting out of Albanian in class while answering a questions I laugh because its who I am.

I would think that language is not just conflict for me in school but in other aspects of my life as well it some times its hard to articulate properly like people wish you to do or even find the right words to say when I talk. When I usually have a conversation or try to with my parents it end up with me halving it all ways

“Aldo did you do your homework yet”

“ Yes Why do you need me”

“ We are leaving come down and watch your brother down stairs”

“I will just go” “ Also what did you say I said come down stairs”

“ I said that I am”

I understand that seems like a normal back forth dialogue right there but if I had not translated it you would not have understood they time I had this conversation with my mother she did not understand me and not because I was far she could not here but because some words That I learned in Albanian I had forgotten or overpowered by the English. Its like when you have to fragrances together one is lighter and the other is stronger the lighter one will be overpowered by the stronger fragrance in the end as it always does that's what happens with my Albanian It get overpowered by the English and most of my vocabulary is diminished into a few phrases that even a novice could say with just few weeks of practice.

“ Aldo you know you don't sound Albanian at all right”

“ What does that mean I don't sound Albanian”

“I am just saying that  you sound like a Greece who tries speaking Albanian, You are a wolf in sheep's clothing if you will ”

“Why do you never talk?”

“You’re always so quiet, are you always like this?”

These questions get thrown at me as I answer with a simple shrug and stay in the background of the conversation. The day carries on and this is the usual pattern. I stay quiet during class or table discussions and never draw attention to myself. Even within a small crowd, I don’t get the courage to speak, it takes enough just to introduce myself. The courage never does come and the nerves take over and they lock the idea away.

I had a group project that was to be presented to the class. As it got closer and closer to my group’s turn, I got even more nervous. I was scared that I would do something stupid and embarrass myself in front of the whole class. The presentation starts and I feel like I have lost all the words that I had prepared to say. Most of the speaking was done by my group members, except for one little slide that I spoke for. Most of the time my back was turned to the class. Whenever I turned to look at the eyes staring up at me, I would start to stutter. I walked back to my seat once we were done, relieved that I was able to make it through.

A mock debate was taking up two class periods. As everyone took their seats in the circle of desks, I tried rehearsing in my head what I was going to say. Everyone had their names labeled on the desk and the debate began. People discussed each of their opinions, once one person talked another person raised their hand. I listened to each point trying to figure how I would fit into the conversation. After each new argument, I would be too scared to add my own opinion. Would it be the right moment? I would wonder to myself. By the time I finally go through my entire thought process, someone else was picked to speak. Eventually the class period was over and we were moving on to the next class. My opportunity to maybe speak up a bit more had passed.

“You’re so loud.”

“I can’t help it.” I answer back

“You're probably making up for all the time you don’t talk during school .”

Once I get home, I become a new me. I am louder and can’t seem to stop talking. It’s as if I’m making up for not talking through the day. It’s the only place where I’m fine with the attention focused all on me. When I am at home, I feel more comfortable and feel as though I can speak whatever is on my mind. People I am closer to also see this change in the way I talk. The more comfortable I feel around the person, the more I talk to that person. When I am more comfortable, I feel safer to express my inner self. I share my opinions more and speak up more.

The class filled with raised hands as the teacher did yet another class discussion. Everyone is eager to share their opinion, everyone but me. I sit in my seat listening to everything people say about the topic. When someone raises an interesting argument, I suddenly have an idea to oppose or agree. Even with this idea floating around inside my mind, my hand stays down as others raise theirs. It’s as if my shyness holds my hand to the table, stopping me from sharing. As I get more comfortable, this grip slowly releases it’s strength.

“Whatchu guys up to?” I say walking over to my group of friends.

“Nothing much, just talking about Geometry.”

“I know. I can’t believe what we have to do for the last benchmark.” I comment

As the year carries on, I adjust a bit more into this new situation. I can talk to smaller groups more easily. My words flow out my mouth freely as I add more and more to the conversation. The words are no longer trapped in the back of my mind by my mouth. When talking in a class discussion, it still takes a great amount of courage to raise my hand and say what is on my mind. Once my hand is raised though and I get to say what I want to say, I feel as though I have made a little accomplishment. Presenting still makes me nervous with all eyes and attention on me, but once I start I can make it through even with a little eye contact. I feel as though I walk out of my quiet shell a little and show a bit of what I’m thinking.

Talking has always been a problem I have in public. For me nerves, take a big part of my limited speaking. I get nervous of all attention on me and in end don’t talk at all. I might try to be as close to talkative that I am at home, I can never fully be there. My quietness can sometimes cause my opinion to not be heard as loud and clear. My words are sometimes trapped in my mind as my mouth stays shout.

Talking is the way that people can communicate. Communication is the one thing that connects everyone together. With me getting nervous speaking in public, I cannot communicate with others better. Over the years, I have tried to speak and open up faster. Though I try to adjust faster, there is still a time where new situations keep my opinions caged in. Opinion is a big part of who someone is and when they are unable to convey that, you can never truly understand that person.

The Hockey Code

By: Stephen Buchanico

“Aye bud, your sauce ain't so tasty tonight, I smacked that biscuit right outta the air.” I replied with . “ Lucky tap buddy, I still got it back and dangled right by ya.” I flew past him and rifled a shot top shelf where momma hides the cookies and turned shouting. “ but that snipe makes up for it ya?” Hockey is like a different world, there's a whole language that comes into play when you get into it. It becomes like second nature to talk in that sort of language. “aye how bout that snipe bud?” Top cheese all day.” Its just something that you pick up as you get into the sport, and something that you don't forget. I use it around other hockey fans, players and friends. Its just a code that is picked up from playing and being around others who use it. If I said “He water bottled the biscuit like 99, made the goalie look like swiss cheese.” I'm pretty sure a lot of people would just look at me like i'm speaking another language. But I can say that kind of thing, or use that kind of code, around my friends whom i play hockey with, and they will know exactly what Im talking about.

One time I was on the bus with a couple of my teammates the day after a game, and we were just talking about the game. There were three of us and we were in the back of the bus and there was a lady sitting, listening in. “There chirps were pathetic yesterday.” I said. “Oh yeah I know, the one bender told me I had no flow and he was buzzed hahaha.” my close friend and team mate said. I peeked over at the women whom was listening in and noticed she had a very confused look on her face, I was about to say something and then I heard, “excuse me, If you don’t mind me asking, what are you guys talking about?” My teammates and I laughed and replied with “We are talking about our hockey game yesterday.” She still looked a little confused, “oh ok, well what were all those words?” we laughed again and replied to her, “There just hockey terms,” and my teammate chimed in with, “its just what we say.”

It was just like in the story with the girl who got the mouthguard and had a funny lisp. She said “Nobody takes me serious anymore.” People who don’t know what I am saying could not take me serious either. They would get too confused at what I am saying, just like the women on the bus. That was the first time I actually realized that we sound a little strange to people who do not know what we are talking about.  It seems a little weird to use the hockey code outside of places where it is easily picked up, like the rink or just around others who know it.

In my opinion, it is just like using a different language in a place that does not speak it. You would not go to somewhere that speaks mainly french and try to speak spanish, just like you would not go to a football game and talk in hockey code. That is how big of a change it is, all of the vocabulary, like snipe, gino, bottled, bar, cheese and so many more, are very confusing to many people.

Hockey code is different from other sport codes as well. In most sport, the fans know the code of the sport because it is not as deep. For example, football code is not as deep, because most of the words in the vocabulary are related to the rules of the sport, which makes the fans easily understand it. Hockey, on the other hand, is much deeper than that. For example, an average fan would call a bad player, just a bad player or a scrub, but a hockey player would call a bad player a bender, which is a player whose ankles bend because they do not tie their skates tight enough, which affects their skate and makes them bad. That is just one of many examples of words that are known by mainly only players, and not fans, unlike many other sports.  That is what makes it unique, and in some cases very confusing and different from other codes that people might hear everyday. Some call it weird or different but it is just because they are not used to it, If they were in the rink every day, they would not think it was weird, they would be fluent in it.

    My language is very important me. There are many reasons why this is true. In this essay, I will explore all of those reasons. Right now, as I type this paper at my table, I am think about what I shall write down to express the importance of the way I speak. I have not been made fun of because of how I speak, but it is still important to me. I talk to express who I am a person and thinker. Without my voice, I don’t know where I would be. My language gotten me where I am.

    One important fact about me is I can talk in slang and in other ways, but I know how to talk professional. That is why I got accepted into SLA. They asked me ¨What your version of the perfect classroom?¨ I said something alont the lines of ¨I think the perfect classroom would be where kids did not fight and didn’t throw things, but one where people were nice and wanted to learn, and where the teachers care.¨ They liked my answer. I liked it too. I don’t really have a special accent or tongue, but the way I talk puts me in good situations. I talk professionally around adults.

     Sometimes I feel like I am better at speaking than writing. Sometimes I have errors in writing that I wouldn’t have if I just spoke. I like to debate and argue things I believe in. Whether it’s politics or music, slavery or stereotyping, making good points and arguing are things I love to do while I am in school. I remember the slavery unit, in which we had such heated debates. They were very heated. But my ideas and beliefs were heard, and I was surrouded by other smart voices.

      The way I talk affects my point greatly. My voice is very regular in my opinion. It’s the words I make with my voice that really matter. That is how I express my views on things during class and advisory discussions. So that is important. I have had to go to speech class from 2nd to 9th grade. I learned how to have proper social situations, as well as how to talk properly. If it weren’t for speech class, I would not be the same person I am today. My parents taught me how to use proper grammer. That is why I can say the right things during an interview.

      I have had so many different class discussions where I have expressed my true opinions. I remember how last year in African American History we had a lot of class discussions, which got intense many times. A lot of times, I particapated in them. They were some of the most important places for my voice to be. I shared my views on stereotyping, slavery, racism, and many other things. So that was a great class. My voice and opinions were put to good use in that class. So, my voice is very important, and I am very careful about how I use it.

     My relationship for power and language is strong. My voice was powerful enough to get me into SLA. So there is power in my language. One time the class was asked about stereotyping, and I said sometging along the lines of ¨I that some people see these rappers, and they think all black people are thugs or criminals. That isn’t true, because we have people like Nelson Mandela, Al Sharpton, and Martin Luther King. They do not act like that.¨ The class was impressed with my response, and so was the teacher. The other responses were good as well. Another instance is when I talked about when I felt hate was ok. I said ¨ A rape victim, or the parent of a murdered child should not have to forgive the man that did this¨ Some people clapped. These are times where my voice had power, or an effect. So that is why I say that voice has power and importance.

    I am careful about what I say, because some words and comments are offensive. My mom taught me not to say certain things. When I was younger, I said a lot of homophobic and offensive things, and sometimes didn’t even know or care about how offensive they were. One time when I was 10, I was talking to a friend on the phone. We were talking about why we didn’t like Lady Gaga, or what we did not like about her. At one point, my friend said ¨I think she’s bisexual. She likes girls and boys.¨ I said something along the lines of ¨That’s plain nasty. She be kissing other girls. That just dirty and messed up. She’s gay! It’s wierd, and just not right.¨ Mom heard me, and did not like what I was saying. She never liked me making homophobic or sexual comments, especially not at that age. After I finished talking to him, Mom said ¨Ali, please don’t talk like that. There is nothing wrong with being gay.¨ It was ridiculous that I was saying such things, especially since I liked some of Lady Gaga’s songs. It was quite a while before listened to Mom, or agreed with her, fully. But eventually I did, and realized why these thoughts were not good at all. Now, I am more responsible when it comes to how I talk, and don’t talk about groups of people in such a way. Because my voice has power, and can affect my reputation for the better or worse. It can also either bring people up, or bring them down.

     My language says I am a nice and smart guy. The reason why is I use language that is intelligent and kind. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be in SLA. I also wouldn’t have that many friends. I get along with just about everyone in the school. If my language had a lot of insulting and impoliteness in it, then Things would not go so well for me. One time in 9th grade, I was comparing my kindness to cheese. The situation was that people from an acting school gave us an assignment. It was that we had to make a speech about ourselves, but we must use movement. So I decided my speech would be about my kindness. The 9th graders in orange & red stream went to a theater to perform our pieces. I performed my piece as well. I stood up in front of the audience, and performed this speech.

¨Being a good person is like being a stick of cheese with no mold. The mold representing evil and rudeness. I am not perfect, but I am very tasty. The chips represent people I have been kind to. It's like my kindness is the cheese, being melted and poured onto the chips, which are known as the people. The deliciousness of the cheese represents the quality of my kindness and personality. It has very high quality, and I always try to get it higher. It's what I was created for. I am not trying to say that I am the greatest stick of cheese. There are better pieces of cheese in the kitchen. They are the yummiest of cheeses, but I try to be as yummy as them. I try to melt the best cheese I can melt, and pour that on the chips. Every chip turns out yummy. I poured cheese on close chips, which are known as friends. One example is how a chip need help making a flavor. In other words, a friend asked me for help with a project that was a huge part of our grade. What I did was let him come over for the weekend so I could help him, and have fun for the rest of the weekend. And that's what I did I felt so good pouring all of that cheese on him. Making yummy nachos with my cheese feels so good. My kindnes and strive to be the best person I can is comparable to a delicious nacho cheese. The quality of the cheese must be good, just like my kindness must be. That is the way to make to other plates. In other words, you must be nice and have good morals to make it in life. I must get tastier and get more cheddar every day. Cheese is suppose to upgrade in both flavor and quality. Saying I am the best cheese is wrong. There are times when I could have been tastier, but I try to be as yummy as can be. That is my duty, and I am proud of that.¨

     I was cheered and applauded for what I said. I was happy with the response I had. That is what I mean by my language represents me. I am a kind and intelligent human being, and that speech proved it.

     My conclusion is that my words and my language are very important. It is what I use to express my thoughts and personaity. All of the reasons I just expressed really points out why they are important to me. So I will continue to use them properly.