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That's Not My Name

Posted by Marteena Johnson in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 4:01 pm

That’s not my name

By: Marteena Johnson

The history of my name is a short one. It’s my moms name, no one else in my family that I know of has the same name as my mother and me. My mother’s maiden name is Martina Elizabeth Williams, and my name is Marteena Saraya Johnson. A lot of people think because my mom’s and my name are pronounced the same that I’m a second. But our first names aren’t spelled the same and we don’t share the same middle or last name.

            There are different variations of my name that my family calls me. Lil Mart, little Marty, or just Marty. My mom is called Big Marty when were together because we have the same nickname. It’s a confusing moment when my grandmother calls one of us but we don’t know whom she’s talking to. So she has to say, “No, little Marty.” Or “Big Marty.” It seems weird when you think about it but it’s something I’ve lived with for a long time and I’m used to it by now.

            Personally I don’t like my name. I don’t like the sound of it. I don’t think it fits me. Like James Baldwin says in his essay, If Black English isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is? “Now, no one can eat his cake and have it too” Just because I identify myself as one doesn’t mean I’m not the other. I may be addressed as Marty, but Marteena is still my name and apart of who I am. I think the name fits my mom better though. My mom is a lot more feminine than me. She doesn’t own a single pair of sneakers that aren’t for working out. I’m used to teachers calling me by first name, but most of my peers and friends call me Marty. I prefer to be called Marty, because it feels like it gives off the boyish quality about me. I don’t like to wear skirts. I usually wear jeans, or sweatpants, and sneakers. Sometimes I don’t respond to Marteena at all, or I’ll reply with “that’s not my name.”

Some people just like the sound of Marteena, more than Marty, and it doesn’t always bother me. Though there’s a distinct difference between Marteena and Marty. Marteena is the type of person to be patient, and polite. A lot of parents joke about trading kids when they meet Marteena. Marty is stubborn and impatient, and often has a bad temper. She also doesn’t like having her sleep tampered with. If she’s sleeping, it’s not the best idea to sit in the hallway near her room.

There were snickers and laughs coming from the hallway outside of my door. My little brother and cousin were in the hallway outside of my room door. I yelled,

“Can you move from outside of my door!”

“We’re not outside of your door, we’re in the hallway.”

“Well, can you move? I can hear you in my room!”

I throw my sheets over my head and lay down. I can still hear my brother and cousin talking. I hate having to get up when I’m tired. I get up and go outside. My brother and cousin are not even a foot away from my door.

            “Can you move from outside of my door?”

They look at me and keep talking like I didn’t say anything.

“Move!”

I hate having to yell to get them to listen. It’s annoying and they always want to act tough and talk back because I am not an adult. I am still older than them, therefore, they still have to listen to me. It seems that they only listen when I yell. As they move from in front of my door, I go back to my room. My chances at getting sleep are at a zero now because I did so much yelling. I lay down anyway, and my mom comes in my room about fifteen minutes later to tell me there is pizza downstairs.

                        Unlike Marty, Marteena isn’t the type of person to yell. She tries not to be rude. She’s also a lot more soft spoken. I think there’s a middle where Marteena and Marty live together. There is not usually just one and not the other a lot of the time. Sometimes there is but its not often, but Marty does show a lot more. Marty is more of a nerd, she like video games, watching comedy, she’s funny, she doesn’t care about much it depends on the situation, and she’s loud. Marty also has the more “do it yourself” attitude, if she wants something done, she’ll do it herself because she’s to impatient to rely on other people and she’s wants it done her way. Marteena is quite, shy, silly at times, a little girly, and she’s more sensitive to peoples’ feelings. Marty is more loose and free while Marteena is more conserved. They also share some of the same qualities. Which is a love for writing whether it be poetry or a story, reading because reading has always been apart of my life, I try my best to make time to read a good book.

I think they both come together on an emotional level, especially when it comes to writing because there’s a lot of feeling in the writing and they share those same feelings. When it comes down to emotions Marty is more conserved with her feelings, while Marteena is an open book. Marteena is the pen while Marty is the paper and the words are the middle, which is where they meet.

 

 

 

Thats Not My Name from Marteena Johnson on Vimeo.

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Language Essay

Posted by Jordyn Randall in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 2:10 pm

“What are you trying to say?”

By: Jordyn Randall

“Hand me that jawn right there” I said.

“ What does that word mean?” My new classmate asked.

Starting in the sixth grade, I went to a middle school in the suburbs, Havertown to be exact. Before that, I went to Overbrook Elementary in  West Philadelphia. This school was mostly black when I was in pre-school and kindergarten, but as the years went on we became more diverse. Either way, everybody was from the same area so everybody spoke the same. I was very comfortable.

  During my first year in my middle school it took a while for me to get adjusted to this new environment, and the way they spoke. Having previously come from a city grade school, I wasn’t entirely comfortable and  was often misunderstood. I used slang words that were common for me, but were different to my classmates, like a foreign language. Words like “salty”, “drawlin” and “jawn”. They hadn’t heard words like these before, so when I used them they were confused and would stare at me with confused faces. I would have to stop what I was saying and explain the word. They too, also used words or phrases that I couldn’t understand, I would ask what they meant. Phrases like “ You just got owned” , were new to me, but were apart of everyone elses daily conversation. I would also laugh at them when they said things like this because I thought they sounded like weirdos. Then it thought maybe they thought the same thing about me.

“ Scott, look at you being salty.”

“ Oh now you gonna start using my words.”

In the beginning we had to explain to each other what we were trying to say, but eventually we started talking more and they started using the words that I used. 



Things changed again when I transitioned to high school.

“ GOOD JOB SYMONE!!”

“Why do you sound like that?”

“ Like what?”

“A little kid.”

“I don’t know?”

When I left my middle school and came to SLA a lot people told me that I sounded like a nerd and a little kid. During basketball games and practices, I would cheer for my team or call a play and people would always say I sound like a little kid. I’d always reply: “Oh well I cant help the way I talk it’s better than talking like an old woman.”



My sister always mocked me jokingly in a nerd voice.

“I want some cookies.” I said.

“I want some cookies.” said Martina in a high squeaky voice like Urkel.

  I never thought that I really sounded much like a nerd. That is until i heard my voice recorded, and wondered “who is that??”. I always sounded totally different in my head. I always thought my voice was deeper than the way everybody described it.

“Why every time I bring up boxing, a white man always gotta bring up Rocky Mashiana...Rocky Mashiana, Rocky Mashiana.” I said.

“HA HA HA HA HA HA...Jor why you say it like that?” said Martina. 

“Because that’s how he sound when he says it.” said Jordyn.

Sometimes I like my voice because I say certain sentences funny from movies, from singing a song or just while having a conversation. I like it because I love making people laugh. 

“Hello my name is Jordyn Randall and I am here to talk about Teen Topics.” I said in class one day.

“Let’s play it back” said Ms. Dunn.

“EWWWWWWW I sound nasty on record, I hate my voice.” I said.

There are times I don’t like my voice like when I hear my self on record, and It sounds like a high pitch and squeaky nerdy voice. It doesn’t affect me that much but it does bother me just a little.

My relationship between language and power is that language has a lot to do with power by what you say and how you say it. I think me personally, it has to do with power because of the fact that my voice is so high and squeaky nobody will listen to me compared to someone with a much stronger, deeper and more demanding voice.

My language may tell a lot of people where I’m from because only certain cities say certain words. In Chicago they say “gunnin” which means to be joking on somebody, in Atlanta they say “juke joint” which is a dance club in Atlanta and in Philly we say “jawn” which is a object. So you can tell a lot about where a person is from just by their accent and the words they use. 

“It goes without saying then, that language is also a political instrument, means, and proof of power. It is most vivid and crucial key to identity: It reveals the private identity and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity. There have been, and are, times, and places, when to speak a certain language could be dangerous, even fatal. Or, one may speak the same language, but in such a way that one’s antecedents are revealed, or (ones hopes) hidden.”- “If Black Isn’t a Language Then Tell Me What Is” By James Baldwin.

I agree a lot with this quote because language is a political instrument, there are certain things you have to say and theres a certain way you have to say it.  For example, the president, wouldn’t be the president if he didn’t say the right things, like speaking correct english and talking in a demanding but nice tone. I think it also does have a lot to do with your identity, it’s sad to say but people can tell a lot about you by the way you talk. You can tell by your accents so they know what part of the world your from, the way you say certain words or the grammer you use, so they know what social class your in. I also agree that it can be dangerous to use a certain language or talking a certain way can be dangerous. If you go to another town they may make fun of the way you talk or they may not like the way you talk because they don’t like the place where your from so that could be dangerous. It can also be the same for languages.

With your language or the way you speak "You have confessed your parents, your youth, your school, your salary, your self-esteem, and, alas, your future.” - If Black Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is? By James Baldwin.

Essay movie from Jordyn on Vimeo.

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Tongues

Posted by Kenayah Cerdan in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 2:09 pm

              

Today in class Ms.P told asked us how many language did we speak. Half of us raised our hands and said we only speak one. We didn’t really have a full understanding of what she was saying.

   “Class, I’m not just talking about Spanish or French”

I raised my hand. 

  “So what are you talking about” 

 “Well Kenayah how to you speak to your friends?”

  Slang is consider a different this language because it a different from when your in school or talking to your mother about something or just want to funny in the moment.

Then it had me thinking, when I’m in church, I notice a lot of the older women speak  in tongues. Now that we started to discuss how we speak different languages it has me thinking about a lot that I never knew or really didn’t pay any mind to.I Learned that a lot of us might talk differently because of the things we hear or know just from our hood.

Now,in my heart I start to look at how I speak

“Hello, my name is Kenayah” 

 when I’m in school talking to a teacher at my school.

“Sup cuz, mi name Na” 

  When I’m talking to my friend outside.But when I’m at a a job interview I feel like I have to speak properly  because I don’t want them to think of me like my mother did not teach me any manners. This paper that Ms.P has us doing is a good one. It has me thinking  about  about how I speak. The other day Ms.P had us write about different types of languages that we speak, and when I sat down to type, I had to say a lot of thinking about a lot because I have to peer edit what I need to stay when I’m around different groups of people who I put my self around. When she explained it to me it didn’t make any sense, after she broke it down to me it start to make some sense in my head.I thought about all my phrases and even words that came out of my mouth when I’m around my friends, family and even when I’m at a job.

 “Yo Na, What you doing tonite” said Briana. I was home and she had called me.

“I don’t know cuz I might just keep my lazy ass in the house ski, aint shit outside to do any way” 

 “ I know but I’m bored and need something to do, plus it a party to nite you trynna to cum” said Briana.

“Maybe, but I’m about to take a nap so just call me when you get ready to leave Im going over to my him house “

“Who tf is ya him” she shouted though the phone. 

“My boyfriend duhhh.”

As I wrapped up the convo with her I started to see how my body language had took over. My hands got to moving and head got to going back and forth, I though i was a bad girl every time I look at my self in the mirror, because if it was my mother, I would have never said this to her.Or have my body language would of never been like this. Then all I could here was my tongues started to move, words started to come out of my mouth. 

Next day I had a job interview and I know that i need to straightening up and take all that Slang talk out of me, If i wanted the job i had to show them,  I was a bright and smart young lady.

“Hello my name is Kenayah Cerdan” I said 

“Well my name is Tytianna I’m the hiring manger” she said.

“Then she said what can you bring to this job,”

“ In my eyes I have a lot to offer you and the work place, I know that I can be the best I can be” I said.

 After it was over we shook hands and she told me that I have the job, on the subway i was thinking in my head that my ways change when I was looking at her,I made sure that my body languages made me look good and it didn’t show the interviewer any sign of me when I’m on my own time,

I learn how to code-switch when I was in the 9th. My english name Mr.Kay told me how to work with it and that it easy to also work around it.Do you know that you’re doing it? 

Sometime, but not all the time because I really don’t caught my self all the time

Do other people in your family code-switch? Have you ever talked about it? No not really I doubt some people in my family even know what code switching is.Are there times where you choose NOT to code switch, where you stand out because of it.Yes there are time because when I’m talking to my friends I know that I can stay in the mood when we go out or if they stay at my house or theres
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Different Language Same Family

Posted by Imani Holness in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 2:07 pm

                                Different language Same family

"I really want to meet your dad Imani, I want to hear his accent is it really strong?"

"I will let you be the judge of that, here he comes"

"Dad this is Naihema,"

"Hi I'm Naihema, Imani's friend"

"Oh nice, I’m Imani's father I have listen to a lot about you"

As she looks at me then looks at him again confused & not really understand what he meant I decide to step in like usually.

"He was saying I have talked about you before, and he recognize your name"

“Yeah that” my dad replies.

As we begin to leave Mr.Best room and let our parents "talk" or more as try to understand each other. She stops me in the hallway gives me the face of confusion again, not knowing what to do she starts to laugh. As I say I told you so & begin to laugh at how weird & awkward the conversation went. 

This a very common event that takes place only because of language & different accents, from meeting new people to asking directions. In my mind I have to be the outspoken one so I can be able to help my dad. I try my best to appreciate both sides but sometimes its hard to be known as or called the girl with an African-American mom and the Jamaican dad. It took me awhile to realize the amount of difference in my family compared to others. I’m not talking about drama, race, or becoming married makes you a even bigger family everyone family experiences these problem but solve them differently. I’m talking about the fact that one side of my family is separated because of language, but mostly the type of speech like an accent and I'm one of a few people that holds this family together.

"Come now" is the normal greeting for hello, while "you want feeding" is another way of saying are you hungry. I guess since I have been around them for so many of years, I understand it a lot easier than others. Even if I don't quite get their " broken English" all the time, its better to nod or say yes that ask them to repeat it. I learned the hard way its not something the appreciate or they don’t find in polite.

"Wait can you repeat that, I don't understand' 

Is usually the line that is repeated about a thousand times whenever both sides of the family get together for celebrations. My mom side & dad side of the family is so divided mainly because of language and how hard it is to understand each other.

 The common and very annoying questions are "really you don't look it" or "That's cool speak like them, please I want to hear the accent." As I always back out of the deal I fell as it comes off that I'm embarrassed of the other side of me. When honestly I'm just not sure I have the right to even be acknowledge as a true Jamaican because I'm only a percentage compared to my dad side. I don’t speak like them, dress like them, and I don’t even like Jamaican food at all. I think it would be disrespectful to claim a part of my me. As I got older I have learned over the years to try to appericate both sides no matter if you are close to your mom or dad side the most. It's always good to have family you can trust, talk to, and to even count on for money. I think as I get older I might change my views on the way I feel being called a Jamican, but for now I believe in what I say.

"Hey child you want feeding" my aunt would say, as I look at the rice & beans with curry chicken. Not realizing that they might not speak perfect english, but facial expressions come nature to them. I notice it looks nothing like how my dad makes so I make a face of confusion mixed with discussed. So I say 

"No thanks I’m okay"

"No come you need feeding, you need to eat more" my aunt insist

"no Im fine I'm a very different eater"

"oh I see, you need to not be child"

And as that conversation ends pretty quickly, I later on get dirty looks or even being talked about behind my back while facing the language.

In the short story “If black English isn’t a language then tell me what is?” by James Baldwin say’s “People evolve a language in order to describe and control their circumstances.” This quote means to me that for people to be able to communicate with each other sometimes that have to change there language into something new by using something old. This quote relates to me because my dad side of there family, and how they have evolved english. Jamaican speak “broken English” which means a kinda of slang with also accent. That’s why it makes it that much harder for American’s or people that are use to a certain style of words, to understand Jamaican.

When I was 10 years old I was in a preteen beauty pageant, because I would always watch Ms. USA or Ms. Universal and I wanted to have a similar experience to them. I was so nervous not only because you are being judged by a the judges and the fact that I’m not a fan of the spotlight. I was also nervous for the first time in along time my entire family was at a event for me mom & dad side. After the competition we decide to take a family picture to celebrate that night. I didn’t realize it at the time but in the picture my dad family was on one side, while my mom side was in the middle, and of course I was in the middle. This picture spoke a thousand words, about how divided one family can be and not even realize it sometimes.


​https://vimeo.com/57628353 Click here to view the video
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Im different and proud

Posted by Katharine Walker in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 2:02 pm

I have a certain way of talking when I am with my mom and dad, Then I have a certain way I talk to my friends. Its not really that I use slang its just that when I talk to my friends I have the lack of pronunciation.When I first came to SLA I didn’t know anyone of course. I never told anyone that I was from Roxborough because I had just met them and I didn’t want them to see me as a little rich kid, which I am not. Then at lunch I took the initiative to actually have conversations with people. 

“What up guys”

“Wassup Katie”

“Did yous guys get a lot of homework?”

After I said that everyone looked at me with this puzzled look of laughter on their faces.I had no idea why they were looking at me like that. Did I say something dumb, was there something on face? Thats when someone finally said something to me. 

“Katie are you from South Philly?” 

“Haha no Why?” 

“You said yous guys”

“Im from Roxborough” 

After I told them that I was from Roxborough they looked even more surprised and full of more laughter. I was scared that since people laughed that meant that I had already been a stereotype to them, exactly what I thought would happen when being around new people and a new environment.  I meant many people that day and became more aware of how I spoke and what I said. I had made it through the day with out someone making fun of me because of the way I spoke.

When I went in my house my mom was watching T.V. waiting for me. She wanted to know how my day went, I told her how the kids laughed at me after I said where I was from. Later that evening I was arguing with my sister.

“Yous guys do not respect my stuff”

After I just yelled that at her she gave me that same face full of laughter that the kids at school had given me. Thats when I got upset and wanted to know what was so funny.

“You said yous”

That is when I realized that the kids where not laughing at where I was from but how I said it.I have no clue where I got the word “yous” from, maybe a movie, or a song, or maybe I did pick it up from my friends in Roxborough, I did know that no one in my family used it. The word just developed into my vocabulary without me even noticing that I say it. 

In the  story “If Black English isn’t a language then tell me what is” by James Baldwin he talks about his language and how it reveals who he is. He said “... It reveals the private identity, and connects one with,or divorces one from, the larger public, or communal identity.” This quote represents that the way you speak makes you who you are and makes you stand out from the people around you.This quote is a great example of how saying “Yous” makes me who I am. By me saying a word that no one has ever heard used  in a sentence, it makes me stand out between me and my friends.It doesn’t bother me that I am different, it allows people to see that I am my own person and that I do not follow in others foot steps, I have my own language. 

My language gives me an identity. Even though it is one word that is in my language different than everyone else around me it still separates me from every one around me.  Since people have brought this to my attention I have a habit of using it more often. I also pay more attention to the words others use. I have found myself correcting others words, knowing I use the word “you” incorrectly. Doing this it has come to my attention that I use my language as power, because I have my own language I like to try and make people be more creative with their language, so that they can have their own identity.  

Like Glona Anzaldua said in the story “ How to tame a wild tongue” “ A language which they can connect their identity to, one capable of communicating the realities and values true to themselves.” The reason that I went so long with out realizing what I was saying, or that I had a certain language was because it connected to my identity. Me being who I am, I didn’t see any issues with my language because I made my language my own.Since I was comfortable with it, everyone around me was okay with it. They realized that,that is who I am. My language is who I am.

















english language from katie_rose24 on Vimeo.

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Power in Words

Posted by Lloyd Williams in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 2:01 pm

What does it mean to be strong. I used to think being strong meant having big muscles, or being tall, or having a loud voice. Now I can see that none of that matters. To have any type of power, you must be able to make sympathizers of others, instill fear in your enemies, and inspire those around you. The key to this strength, this power over the world around you is your voice, or rather how you use it. The words you say, and how you say them, more than anything else, show how powerful you really are.
Imagine you’re an eleven year old boy, just starting a new school. Your science teacher ask you how you would describe the sun. “Hot and i-il-illuminating.” You respond nervously. The teacher turns from the green chalk board and looks at you, “That’s a very good word Lloyd” He says. All the other kids look at you with anger, or admiration. “Th-thank you” you sputter, as you don’t know it yet but you just had your first glimpse at the power of words.
There is something that most, if not all people in a position of power have in common, the way they talk. From the president, to reporters, and even Adolf Hitler, who while undeniably a terrible person, was a great leader, and inspired his people, through the power of his voice. It makes sense when you think about it, someone who speaks well seems educated, and someone who is educated, is the obvious choice for a good leader, because they are expected to be wise, and cautious. You can also come at it from the other side. If someone who could barely say one syllable words, got up on a stage, and asked you to make them leader, what would you?
“Hearing them, I’d grow nervous, my clutching trust in their protection, and power weakened”. This quote from Richard Rodriguez’s “Hunger of Memory” shows the power of language. In this excerpt, Richard is talking about his feeling for his parents, who couldn’t speak much english. The quote is precluded by him talking about his parents trying to stutter through conversations in english, unsure, and uncomfortable. He says that he felt his sense of protection fade when he heard them speak english. That the way they talked reflected their power, and just hearing them struggle with speaking english for a few minutes made him think of them as less powerful. This is an incredible example of the  power of language. The sense of strength forged by time, the relationship between parents and their child, altered completely due to them not being able to speak “powerfully”.
“Miscellaneous items go here” I said proudly. At this point I was fourteen, and I had learned how to use my “power”. My cousins (age 13, and 14) looked at me, flabbergasted. “That’s M-I-S-C-E-L-L-A-N-E-O-U-S” I said proudly. “It means something that doesn’t fit into any other category”. After receiving no response but more dumb looks I said “Categories, are ways that people group things, like by race, color, or country of origin” I said taking the last part from a dictionary. “I know what category means” Dante, the older of the two responded. “And miscellaneous... Why do you have to use such big words anyway. You think you're smarter than us don’t you.” Of course it was true. I had been using language to hold others in submission. This is the biggest pitfall of using the power of language. No one like a show off,and I was definitely being a showoff.
I said that you use strong language to gain sympathizers, and silence enemies. I also mentioned that in fifth grade, when I used illuminating I received looks of admiration and anger. I didn’t know it at the time, but using the power of speech doesn’t just silence enemies, it creates new ones. My enemies were well deserved, for while in the beginning it was innocent, and I meant no harm to anyone, I soon started trying to control people, to lift myself up, and make myself seem better than them. That’s why when my cousin asked me if I thought I was smarter than him I couldn’t reply. I knew it was true, I was being an elitist.
It’s true that the way you talk gives you strength, but it also makes you weak. It makes you weak to the human desire to be better than someone else, by giving you an excuse, by making you think that you have a right to act better than others. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t use what you have, but when you use it, make sure you do so responsibly, because being strong is not worth losing your morality.
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"You have nothing to hide from"

Posted by My Truong in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 1:59 pm

Whenever I hear of the word, accent, it reminds me of America. I always thought that you can only have an accent when you speak a different language. Just like me- I have a Vietnamese accent when I speak English. Until, one day I realized accents are how people speak the word and how it sound. There’s always a funny story of how people speak and I have one too. In Vietnam there are many different  ways to speak one word; every person speaks is differently. I was born in the South Vietnam and my friend were born in North Vietnam. It was clear that I thought the people in Vietnam sounds funny and I can't understand anything they say. Until one day when we were on the train, my friend Anh ask me “How come you don't speak standard Vietnamese?” I was surprised because that’s what I thought about the people who lived in the North. “The way you speak is so hard for me to understand especially some of the words that you’re saying” I responded.
The way we speak and how we pronounce the words are so different and sometime we have to repeat ourselves for each other to understand. We have a lot of common words however some of the word we speak were unfamiliar to each other. One day Anh told me to put my sock on. Instead of saying “doi” for sock he used the word “tat” for sock. For a second it was confuse me so much that I didn't understand what he was trying to say. Until he showed me a picture on google. I then realized even though we are speaking the same language there are always  something in our voice and and the way we use words, that are different from one another. As time passed we communicated with each other better. I also see the change in my voice and the way I use words. Sometime I speak with my family I would use a word from the North and the sound of my voice also changed. I have a little mix of both North and South accent and so is Anh. Both of our voice were change but not so much.
To be able to understand the difference between North and South vocabulary is really difficult. Imagine learning a whole new language. As James Baldwin states in “If black English isn’t a language, then tell me what is?”, “People evolve a language in order to describe and thus control their circumstances, or in order not to be submerged by a reality that they cannot articulate” In November 2005, I moved to America, at that point I’m completely new to this language. I was in third grade and didn’t know ABC’s. From the beginning English was really hard for me. When I don't understand what people say to me I would shake my head for everything. Speaking of shaking my head, I have a very funny story. When I was in third grade, we were in gym class waiting for the teacher to set up our station. I was sitting by myself and a group of students come over. I wasn’t sure if they were doing to be mean or to be funny but to me is very funny.
“Do you speak English?” the boys ask.
I shake my head.
“Do you eat?”
I shake my head again. They continued to ask me more question, but all I do is shake my head.
“Do you shower?”
I shake my head. The whole class start laughing at me as they cover their nose. I was confused but then the boy stood up rubbing his body and his eyes mocking me. Thats when I know what he was saying. He was asking me if I do I shower. Then I knocked my head and everyone was laughing.
English had alway been a struggle for me. I thought I’d never understand the English language. People always told me that I pronounced words wrong or that my accent was too thick for people to understand. They would laugh at me when I was struggling and I started to feel uncomfortable speaking English.
“My, can you read the second paragraph to the class?”
I was sitting in English class in fifth grade . I couldn't remember clearly what we were doing but I heard Ms.Rehn call my name and told me to read. My eyes went blank then I looked down at my paper, the words seemed like squiggles in a line. I started reading, the words stumbling in my mouth like rocks. A kid behind me started to laugh, and I read slower, embarrassed. Then, in mid sentence, I stopped at big word and tried to pronounce it “Currr-cir-cum-lum?" I attempted. I looked up and felt really embarrassed. That was the last time I ever raised my hand or speak in class. By the time I’m in high school my english teacher was Mr.Kay and he had change the way I feel about myself. He gave me the encouragement to speak in front of people. At first when he picked on me I felt very shy I would just sit there. He pushed me to answer the question that he asked. At the same time he didn’t push me so much to make me uncomfortable. As time went by I began to raise my hand in class instead of him calling me. In the middle of 9th grade I then began to feel more and more comfortable as I speak and share my culture to the whole class. I talk about my personal life, my culture, and things that happened in my life that I never though I can feel so comfortable sharing with people.
Now that I’m in my second year of high school. Attending a very diverse school was also one of the reasons that made me comfortable. I have a friend who are speaking the same language as me. I also have a friend who are also speak something that is totally different than me. I looked at them as a role model. I began to learn how to present in front of people. I speak loud and clear so people will understand even though I have an accent. I’m not ashamed of myself because of my Vietnamese accent and I’m no longer afraid to speak anymore because as Mr.Kay told me “You have nothing to hide from.”









































medium from Trina Truong on Vimeo.

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Sabian Rosales Bibliography Paper+Video

Posted by Sabian Rosales in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 1:58 pm

My Languages that I use

When I talk to someone that I don't know I become quieter. Also when I interact with strangers I usually play with my hands and avoid eye-contact. But when I talk to someone that I interact with often I become more open with that person.

In my old circle of friends, we would talk about Yu-gi-oh and video games. To my parents and other people, it's like a whole other language. It's like “this card would go great with this card” and other people look at us with a blank face.

In Video Games, kids play extremely violent games that either make them "Rage" or make them violent in life. The Call of Duty Franchise and other "Shooters", all the kids play these and when I see people(including my friends) play these games, they just get mad whenever they start losing. A Shooter is a game where you basically run around and kill people with guns. I do play these but not often, I mostly go towards games that Do NOT involve killing people with guns. People just want the newest games and I lay back and play 2-D pixelated games. Game Boy Advance/Color, Nintendo 64, Arcade games; These systems are old and to me they are just  as good as the high-tech systems.

"What games do I like?", If I get asked that I usually reply with, "Fighting games and anything that involves Swords. "What kind of Fighting games?", "The ones that let you move around freely or pin you against another opponent." "So like Mortal Combat?", "No I don't like seeing people getting their heads split open. Soul Calibur is more of my choice."

Mortal Combat?, Soul Calibur?, these are names that describe a franchise. Left, Right, Up, Down, Square, Circle, Triangle, X, L1, R1, L2, R2, L3, R3…These terms are names of the buttons on a Playstation 3 controller. Video games are just getting more and more complicated…before it was just directions, A, B, Start and Select. I tend to stop playing games that are complicated because it would be a pain to remember all those combos.

"Do you like Minecraft?" I have gotten asked this many times, my reply "No because I don't understand the game." or "I just can't get attached to it." Minecraft is a "3-D" Pixel game, to me Pixel games should be 2-D because they look better and all you need to do is move 4 directions not ∞. (∞ was used because if I was to include the number of directions, it would be un-writable.)

Card games? Yu-gi-oh is my choice because it's simple and easy to understand. but now it's getting way too complicated. To me when a game gets too complicated, I start to lose interest because I need to remember all these "new" rules.

Some video games are different than others. By this I mean that they have something that other don’t. “Mods” are what these game have. Mods are usually files that Modify the game in some way. Either it be Characters, Weapons or Maps. “Maps” are the areas where a Character can move, sometimes a Glitch or Bug will occur and the Character can go outside of the Map. Glitches or Bugs are when something wrong happens with the program and was not checked. These can be when you fall through the ground, become invisible or when you gain experience at an abnormal rate. These can be problematic for some, helpful for others and hilarious for most.

Being social is a hard thing for me to do, and when there is an uncomfortable topic usually I change the topic well without the person knowing. However my social abilities rely on interacting with people a lot. But I don't get to talk to people much, only at school I can do such. But the wonders of the phone!, it easier for me because I do not have to look the person in the face. Yes it is hard for me to look people in the eye and so I usually look away. Some think that it's disrespectful when I look away but it's something that is hard for me to not do.

When I first moved to Philly, I barely talked and to this day I don’t remember how I talked. In middle school, I didn’t know anybody and to tell the truth, the majority of the school was african american. I was the only caucasian person there, except for the teachers. I met my friends one by one, and slowly I started to talk like them.

“Hey(instead of Hello), how’s it going?”

“It’s pretty good...”

“Yo, there’s this video I saw yesterday, it was so funny.”

“Yo”, that was my most commonly word used in that school. I actually became known for using it so much.

“Really, what was it about?”

“Man, this guy did some crazy moves on his skateboard and he fell.”

(At this moment my friends and I would just start to crack up”

“Awww man, how did he fall?”

“He flipped and landed on his head!”

(Another moment of laughing)

Why did I think that people getting hurt was funny? I don’t know but it’s probably because all the other kids laughed about it. I slowly over time stopped laughing at it.

And over time new phrases were made by my friends,

“I’m done!”

(This means not literally that you are finished but it means that something abnormal happened or surprising)

“That IS a shame...”

(Yes, it mean’s exactly how it’s written, When something that is hard to believe or when something happens, such as someone falls off their bike or if we lost in a video game.)

“How’s that Salt?” and “You got played!”

(They technically mean the same thing, “So close and you mess up” or “You got played like a violin”) 

When ever someone laughs at what I do and I do not think it’s funny, I say

“How is that funny? Please explain to me why that it funny?”

Sometimes I add, “I want to laugh too”.

Most people can’t say anything

Language, to me is sound when it is negative and words when it’s positive.

Music is a natural language to me. I currently play the piano and enjoy it often. It allows me to channel my feelings through the instrument. Practicing is a required part for an instrument, but it becomes extremely annoying when I want to do other things. It’s not that I don’t like piano but having to practice is a hassle.

Language is not just words but also it’s sounds. Music is an example of that and being able to express myself through my piano gives me yet another way to communicate.

SrosalesLanguageVideo from Sabian Rosales on Vimeo.

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Watch Your Mouth

Posted by Gabriel Musselman in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 1:44 pm

“That’s just the thing. It happens all of the damn time!,” I exasperatedly stuttered.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”, my history teacher, Mr. Sanchez joked.

It was true, I told him, I did. “Well, not that one,” I admitted. “I have a couple.” 

This part was true as well. I am an avid “code-switcher”, I even have my degree in street talk. I find it easier to keep a collection of dialects rather than attempt to drag one around all day. I switch from mouth to mouth, talk to talk, slang to “proper English”. But I am not alone, no. The majority of American teens and young adults share this trait, as well as a good percentage of working class adults. This idea of a collective identity, or rather multitude of identities unifies, not a people, but a generation. It accomplishes the same thing that an accent does for a region. 

In his essay, “If Black English Isn’t A Language, Then Tell Me What Is?”, James Baldwin says, “People evolve a language in order to describe and thus control their circumstances, or in order not to be submerged by a reality that they cannot articulate.” The youth of today (and yesterday, and perhaps for generations to come), seeking to evolve themselves into what they believe to be a righteous and fulfilled picture of a modern teen or young adult, have constructed a system by which to identify themselves and others as fitting and familiar. We call this system “slang”. It is as much a part of a generation as you are to your’s and I am to mine, and it intends to provide an escape from conformism to a much easier way of speaking.

In the midst of a generation that searches for definition and identity, perhaps it is vital to have a an open mind and an open voice. That is, I believe, the reason behind this need for an always-changing dialect in today’s youth. We find the best way to represent our intentions is to mask them in a shroud of yolo’s and ratchet’s. It, not unlike and somehow a factor of slang, comes and goes with the tide of social nuances. It is a passing fad. That being said, something must be said for the persuasive power of slang on a generation. Think about it. When was the last time you stopped and turned when you heard the latest Oxford Dictionary entry being used by man sitting down the aisle of your bus? Often it is the unexpected blatancies of slang that draw our attention. Slang accomplishes what it intends: it get’s people heard.

But where do we draw the line? When does slang become the odd one out and “proper English” gain a foothold? Oddly, society seems to draw the boundary in certain situations and not others. “Job Interview” dialect is a term often used by comedians to describe the physical and psychological change in demeanor used by millions of people every day. This change happens when these people feel the need to substitute their everyday dialect for something more formal. This is just another code switch. Familiar and unprofessional dialect is replaced with a white-collar, almost jargon, dialect. 

At school, I talk at a loud and slang-controlled, almost rambunctiously diverse, tone. My words are short and to the point. The way I see it this is because to be heard in an environment such as school, one must be loud and to the point or his audience loses all trace of interest. You have to be funny, familiar, personal. During my commute, my dialect takes on a much blander and quieter approach. My words become slow, drawn out syllables. I lean more towards saying nothing at all rather than saying something that would seem out of place on something so diverse as a rush-hour train. When I do say something, it is often an apology or a quick thank you. It is funny how silence is the greatest weapon we have on trains against familiarizing ourselves with those strangers around us. Thirdly, my home dialect is one of passion and meaning. Not that I speak in a poetic or even an emotional way, but rather that my voice is open and free for expression. This is because I have already come to know those that I live with. I’ve had fifteen odd years to do so. 

“You don’t act like that in public, I hope.” My mother probed. “What are you going to do when you take a girl out on a date?”

“Don’t worry, Mom, I know how to act on a date.” I assured.

There are many ways in which code switching is beneficial to society. It provides a route by which teens and young adults (as well as many adults) can seek to find themselves and not lose their identity along the way. They may explore the possibilities of both sides of slang and what each entails without pledging fully to one or the other. It is, like a fad, a passing dialect, passed down from generation to generation, always changing, not unlike the people it represents.The purpose of a dialect is to express, and by no means do code switchers miss the mark. Code Switching is both a dialect and an intense display. Wielding it as a sword, young men and women everywhere hold the power to give and take away power over language. Code switching is the future.





Video: https://vimeo.com/57683377
1 Comment

One Voice, Several Variations

Posted by Liza Cohen in English 2 - Pahomov on Thursday, January 17, 2013 at 12:04 pm

“Hey Honey! How was your day?”


“It was gucci.”


“What does that mean?”


Mom never remembers my slang words. Then again, I don’t remember her version of slang words either. Its a two way street. Yet, there’s always that one moment when I enter the house, where our voices meet.


“Mom, it means good. We went over this.”


I raise my arms at her, signaling to her that she never gets my vocabulary through her head. If I use my Italian gestures, then she gets the picture. This is a daily routine for my Mother and I to go through. She just never catches on. This is until she picks up the language of mines that she knows how to understand. I thicken my Italian accent in the kitchen, and everything turns clear to her.


“Oh yeah, yeah. Now I remember.”


Like any other night, in the Cohen’s residence, actions speak louder than words due to hand motions being used (like any other italian family), conversations that turn into arguments while my inner Italian kicks in, and normal speaking turns into strong dialogue from the root of Italy. So many things going on at once while at the dinner table, inhaling a bowl of pasta. Typical Italians.


“Forget it Mom. You just don’t understand.”


“I’m right, and you’re wrong. Get over it.”


I clamp my five fingers together on each hand, shaking them back and forth to communicate with her. Using the gestures that an Italian chef would make after taste testing his food. I raise my arms and at times clench my fists. If you haven’t heard, Italians have a way with hands more than a way with words.


That fast I can change the tone in my voice, or the thickness in my accent. I can go from “Gucci” to “Benissimo” (good) in minutes.


Now, I don’t just sound Italian because I am italian. From the audience taking in my speech, I appear to seem like I am from several other parts of the world. To others, I’m apparently claimed to be from New York, the South, and others. But who said I have to be from a certain place just because I “sound” like I belong there? People chew up bits and pieces of my voice, and spit it out. They interpret glimpses of my voice and pay no mind at all to other parts. Once again, its a bittersweet, two way street. People tend to pay attention to how you say things rather than what you’re saying. Ouch.


I speak one way, and one way only. I may sound like I am from Italy, or New York, or even have the typical “South Philly” tone in my voice. Its not like I have an on and off switch for how to speak when I am with certain people. I have a strong accent. I can’t sit here and define the style of the way I speak. However, I can sit here and admit that my voice and the way I talk, have several different variations to itself. There are moments where variations of my voice are stronger than others, but that’s never in my control. I think a lot about how people actually claim what they sound like, or what kind of voice they have. Is that possible? Is it possible to sound the same, and say things the same way, every time you do say something?


When I enter my household, with the smell of pasta, and loud voices flooding the doorways, I enter the house to my Italian family. This for a fact is the only time where I know which variation of my voice comes in handy, on purpose. I am more Italian than anything when I am home because I am surrounded by people that have personal connections to the roots of Italy. Throughout the day, I use my hands very strongly to express myself. It just so happens that when I come home, my Italian accent gets thicker, the raising of my arms get higher, and the identity of my voice becomes clearer. Environments do influence a person’s own influence on how they want to present themselves. Now, I am influenced at certain times by certain things to encourage the variations of my speaking. But, once again, what is that called? The thing is, I choose to not call it anything. I don’t want to say a term of how to define my voice. I can’t define something that has too many meanings.


I never liked the label of having just one label to my voice. I don’t like being claimed as “She sounds Italian.” Or, “You sound just like a New Yorker. You have to be from New York.”


The author, James Baldwin, who wrote a story called “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me What is?” couldn’t of said it any better. He quotes, “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.”


I rather have my voice be divorced from the others, rather than connected with. I want my voice to be vivid and crucial to others. My voice is my identity. It is in safe keeping for myself to adjust, and for the audience to take in. If I sound like the others, than my identity would be hidden. I like my voice the way it is. If there are so many sides to me, and so many sides to my voice, why call it one thing? I don’t define myself as one thing, so why do it to my voice?


People should care a little less about what people sound like, and why they sound that way. I have one voice and several variations of it, but I come from one place. There’s nothing wrong with that.


Here is a link to my video.

One Voice, Several Variations from liza cohen on Vimeo.

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  • Larissa Pahomov
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