Language Autobiography 2013: Shakespeare and Slang
During this unit, my English class explored many aspects of Language and how it relates to identity. We have read the memoirs of many authors, in which they explain their personal battle with language. There have been struggles with bilingual status and which side to choose. I have learned here many facets to language and how you use it determines it's advantages and disadvantages. In this project, I took an area of language from my personal experience and related it to the struggle with culture, identity and self-worth. My last thought upon finishing my paper was "How far will I go to be a part of the 'Talented Tenth'? Why is there still a talented tenth?"
"The problem of education, then, among Negroes must first of all deal with the Talented Tenth; it is the problem of developing the Best of this race that they may guide the Mass away from the contamination and death of the Worst, in their own and other races."
---W.E.B. DuBois
“Who can tell me what they think this means?”
My hand shot up immediately, I knew what it meant, I appreciated what it meant and how it was said. After a discussion, we moved onto the next page in which we met the characters:
“Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her? – What dat ole forty year ole ‘oman doin’ wid her hair swingin’ down her back lak some young gal? – Where she left dat young lad of a boy she went off here wid?“
I cringed at the characters' words. The stacks of books, papers, and journals I’d written and read weighed down the top of my head as I sunk into my seat.These words were exactly the stereotype I'd been taught my entire life to fight. I remembered my mother and my grandmother's constant corrections, “It's 'well', not 'good'. It's 'have' not 'got'. I was habitually reminded it was not good enough to be satisfactory like everyone else; because I was black and a female, I had to be better than everyone else to get an equal shot. I was and am expected to be more than a statistic and a big part of that for the adults in my life was and is my speech.
People are judged on two things upon introduction: How they look and how they speak, in that order. I was so concerned on breaking the stereotype of the lack of education and perceived absence of intelligence in blacks, that I'd never imagined what I learned could be a miseducation. Why would I desire to sound like the system that told me I wasn’t good enough everyday. I'd rather be told that I sounded 'white' and ostracized by my black peers than to “stoop to their level”. It wasn't until I read an essay by James Baldwin (who'd long been one of my favorite authors), that I could understand how someone could look down on me for sounding like I'd read a book before.
“A child cannot be taught by anyone whose demand, essentially, is that the child repudiate his experience, and all that gives him sustenance, and enter a limbo in which he will no longer be black, and in which he knows that he can never become white.”
As a “pro black”, with my natural hair and my disposition to favor black culture. Black language was never something I appreciated, it was something I despised. Speaking any dialect besides Standard English reflected to society, an ignorance and lack of education. I was the one who’d always pushed the envelope of society's expectations and limits, but I would never touch the lingual aspect. It'd never even occurred to me that the way I spoke could be as much as a rebellion, as the things I spoke about.
“You’re so well spoken”, people would always say. I’ve faked out more many meetings and presentations with my ability to “sound intelligent”, than I am proud to say. I never felt English oppressed me, but it did rule my life, it became my calling card. Not my philosophical thinking, not my personality and not my talents, but my ability to open my mouth and sound like everyone else. I now realize the people and their experience I'd looked down upon countless times, were rebelling consciously or unconsciously. They were fighting to hold onto one of the only things that allowed them to be who they were, regardless of the media's bombardment of people who didn’t look, think, speak or live like they did. It is sad their refusal to conform will cost them many opportunities in life.
With the right words, anything is possible. Words helped Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Adolf Hitler, Malcolm and Gandhiji. Language is used as leverage in a competitive world. However, with any lever, there is something that is held high, and there is something that is weighed and made low. It is our burden to lift the heavy from our tongues and prosper.
Unfortunately, regardless of the culture you hold dear and how they speak, in America, the use of “proper” English is a must to get ahead.
Baldwin, James. "If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me What Is."New York Times. (July 29, 1979): <http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/03/29/specials/baldwin-english.html>.
hooks, bell. Hooks on the Language of Power. New Learning. Web. 11 Jan 2013. <http://newlearningonline.com/literacies/chapter-6-critical-literacies/hooks-on-the-language-of-power/>.
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God. New York: J.B. Lippincott, 1937. Print.
"The problem of education, then, among Negroes must first of all deal with the Talented Tenth; it is the problem of developing the Best of this race that they may guide the Mass away from the contamination and death of the Worst, in their own and other races."
---W.E.B. DuBois
Shakespeare and Slang
“Open your books class. 'Their Eyes were Watching God' is a compelling story about identity. Now I must warn you, this book has a strong rural south dialect. Soon enough, you'll catch onto it.”
I stared at the cover of the book, took a deep breath and opened it. “Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time.” This is why Zora Neale Hurston was so revered, this is why her name is always mentioned with the greats of the Harlem Renaissance, I thought. A sense of pride and reverence swelled in my chest.“Who can tell me what they think this means?”
My hand shot up immediately, I knew what it meant, I appreciated what it meant and how it was said. After a discussion, we moved onto the next page in which we met the characters:
“Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her? – What dat ole forty year ole ‘oman doin’ wid her hair swingin’ down her back lak some young gal? – Where she left dat young lad of a boy she went off here wid?“
I cringed at the characters' words. The stacks of books, papers, and journals I’d written and read weighed down the top of my head as I sunk into my seat.These words were exactly the stereotype I'd been taught my entire life to fight. I remembered my mother and my grandmother's constant corrections, “It's 'well', not 'good'. It's 'have' not 'got'. I was habitually reminded it was not good enough to be satisfactory like everyone else; because I was black and a female, I had to be better than everyone else to get an equal shot. I was and am expected to be more than a statistic and a big part of that for the adults in my life was and is my speech.
People are judged on two things upon introduction: How they look and how they speak, in that order. I was so concerned on breaking the stereotype of the lack of education and perceived absence of intelligence in blacks, that I'd never imagined what I learned could be a miseducation. Why would I desire to sound like the system that told me I wasn’t good enough everyday. I'd rather be told that I sounded 'white' and ostracized by my black peers than to “stoop to their level”. It wasn't until I read an essay by James Baldwin (who'd long been one of my favorite authors), that I could understand how someone could look down on me for sounding like I'd read a book before.
“A child cannot be taught by anyone whose demand, essentially, is that the child repudiate his experience, and all that gives him sustenance, and enter a limbo in which he will no longer be black, and in which he knows that he can never become white.”
As a “pro black”, with my natural hair and my disposition to favor black culture. Black language was never something I appreciated, it was something I despised. Speaking any dialect besides Standard English reflected to society, an ignorance and lack of education. I was the one who’d always pushed the envelope of society's expectations and limits, but I would never touch the lingual aspect. It'd never even occurred to me that the way I spoke could be as much as a rebellion, as the things I spoke about.
“You’re so well spoken”, people would always say. I’ve faked out more many meetings and presentations with my ability to “sound intelligent”, than I am proud to say. I never felt English oppressed me, but it did rule my life, it became my calling card. Not my philosophical thinking, not my personality and not my talents, but my ability to open my mouth and sound like everyone else. I now realize the people and their experience I'd looked down upon countless times, were rebelling consciously or unconsciously. They were fighting to hold onto one of the only things that allowed them to be who they were, regardless of the media's bombardment of people who didn’t look, think, speak or live like they did. It is sad their refusal to conform will cost them many opportunities in life.
With the right words, anything is possible. Words helped Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Adolf Hitler, Malcolm and Gandhiji. Language is used as leverage in a competitive world. However, with any lever, there is something that is held high, and there is something that is weighed and made low. It is our burden to lift the heavy from our tongues and prosper.
Unfortunately, regardless of the culture you hold dear and how they speak, in America, the use of “proper” English is a must to get ahead.
Baldwin, James. "If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me What Is."New York Times. (July 29, 1979): <http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/03/29/specials/baldwin-english.html>.
hooks, bell. Hooks on the Language of Power. New Learning. Web. 11 Jan 2013. <http://newlearningonline.com/literacies/chapter-6-critical-literacies/hooks-on-the-language-of-power/>.
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God. New York: J.B. Lippincott, 1937. Print.
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