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Being that Chaka Fattah is the Official representative of Philadelphia, he should have a lot of input on any new bills or laws that come in, right? In actuality, he shows interest in the bill…but that’s really it. He never talks about why he votes for it, or why he doesn’t, or how he feels about it.

When it comes to the issue of animal rights, he is no different. Though he never talks about it, he is all for animal rights. For example, Fattah has shown 92 present interest of The Humane Society of the United States  in 2007-2008, 92% interest in The Humane Society Legislative Fund, and 100% interest in the Defenders of Wildlife Action Fund.

When it comes to animal rights, Fattah is all for it, yet he does not share his own personal thoughts nor does he express how he feels the new bills or laws will affect the city.

           For my free studio I decided to work with a canvas. When I first started to paint I wasn’t too sure of what I wanted to do. Each day I came into art class I began to get an idea of what I wanted to do. The first thing I had in mind was to make a black, gray and white picture. I wanted to see if I could get my ideas on the canvas without using any color. When most people see pictures the first thing they tend to talk about is the different color paint that is used.

            On day I walked into class and I was not having a good morning but to a surprise I did not want to make a picture with out color I had the sudden urge to make a colorful painting on a new background. There was not a way to paint over the canvas in all white and not see what was under it so I found a big paintbrush and painted the entire background black. As soon as I was finished an idea of what to do popped into my head. I wanted to make a big tear drop, that was all blue with green and yellow at the bottom. At the bottom of the teardrop is the water as the raindrop is falling. The bottom is my favorite part. When I first started at it I was not too sure what look I was going for but as I added more color to it I knew exactly.

            The rest of the background that was not covered by any other color but black was the easiest part of the painting to cover because I wanted to use the colors that gave off a bright essence coming off the back. After that was done I still felt as if something was missing from the painting. I then looked at my hands because there was paint on them, so I decided to put handprints on it. The only color I could think of was the white to make it pop. After looking at the white hands the painting still didn’t feel complete and the only color I could think off, of the top of my head that complements white was red. I did not want to paint the red on I wanted it to look any other way but painted. So I used my finger and scooped up large amounts of red paint on my finger and dripped it on the white hands. When I was finished I felt that my painting was complete.

          Before the second marking period was over my painting I did on the canvas was finished. I wanted to do another project with bottle caps because we had so many left over from the fist marking period project. So I then decided I wanted to make a big hand out of bottle caps.

            I brought some hot cut to put all the caps together. I had to pick out the caps I wanted to use and size them to one another. Anther way I kept track of them was to making different little marks on the bottoms of the caps I was using and going to use. When I began I started to stack all the caps on top of one another then as it became taller I got the idea to cover the entire thing with aluminum foil to make it shinny and shape all the things I felt did not come out right in the end.

            Right after I finished building the forearm with the caps it was time to do the palm of the hand but I no longer wanted to make a giant hand. From turning the piece upside down to add the aluminum foil to it I then got the idea to make a vase.            

            When my piece became a vase I wanted to add color to it and put flower in it. I painted different colors in strips and I add some colorful flower paper. The last class was when I finished the vase and started to add the flower because our art is due on Friday 1/14/11 I did not want to put a picture of my vase up wit the flowers. For some reason I do not like when my artwork is viewed when I do not feel as if it is finished. So I have picture of just the finished vase.

Callie Monroe

January 5, 2011

Gold Stream

Language Benchmark

 

 

“What are you?”

“I’m black.” I said

“No your not, if you were you would have said ‘I’m black nigguh.’”

“Okay, I’m black nigguh,” I responded. There was then uproar of laughter at the café table I was sitting at.

“You’re too white to say that.”

            This became a game where people would tell me to say something that was “too black” for me. It amused everyone to see a group proclaimed white person attempt to talk “black.” The opinion that I somehow talk very different from other black people is one that I encounter all the time, sometimes on a daily basis. Now instead of responding, I ask people where they think I’m from because it’s interesting to hear their responses. Some of their responses are crazy! I’ve been told that I look Australian, Dominican, Brazilian, but in fact my family does not have an ounce of blood from any of these places. It never occurred to me that the language I use and the words I speak are different from other black people, or, for that matter, any people in general. People use the way in which I talk to support their ideas about my race.

            My brothers and sisters experience the same racial questioning that I do. Like me, people think they talk “white.” Also like me, their complexions are considered light for black people. My older brother who has very soft curly hair is thought to be Italian by many people. My younger sisters hair is very long and several people assume that she’s Puerto Rican. My younger brother is the only one that people believe is actually black. But it is totally due to his complexion not the way that he talks. He has darker skin than all of us, but as a result of the way we all grew up, is still accused of talking “white.” Growing up my aunt went through these same things. She has a very pale skin tone but is still ethnically black. She felt as though she had something to prove to other kids who thought she was white so she tried to act extra “black.” I don’t mean to say that you can act black, but she tried to act in the way she felt black people were supposed to act.  I suppose you can say that we are not an average black family, but I wonder what an average black family is and looks like?

Whenever someone tells me that I talk white or that I don’t talk black I feel like there is no real place that I belong. Physically I’m not white, but verbally people consider that I am, which group is supposed to accept me? I wonder who made up the rules for how black and white people are supposed to talk? Does it have to do with the history of each race? Or is it today’s society that contributes to the defining of the way a race should talk?

            I grew talking like all my friends and family. Differences in the way races speak was never an obvious thing for me. White, Black, Asian, Latino, seemed to all speak the same as me. I suppose you can attribute the way I talk to the environment that I grew up in. From infancy I went to a school that had a majority of white people in it. Talking proper, or white as many people call it, was always emphasized. Grammatical errors were always corrected and cursing brought you a trip to the black bench. Most of my best friends are white, and I was one of about seven or eight black people in my grade. This lingo, or “white” way of talking, was the way that everyone I knew talked.

            James Baldwin wrote, “Language, incontestably, reveals the speaker.” The way in which you talk can portray your feelings on an opinion and even your attitude at the time but also so much more. The words you use, the way you compose your sentences, and how you articulate your syllables can all show where you’re from or the way in which you grew up. Everyone has a very distinct way of talking that is unique to his or her personal experiences. My history of living in environments and being around people that consider the way you talk a very important aspect of you are is the reason that I talk the way I do. 

            I don’t necessarily think that the way you talk is specific to your race. I know many other black people that speak in the same way that I do and many white people that speak in the way black people are “supposed” to. Your geographical location has more to do with it than anything else. Certain neighborhoods speak differently than others, just like people from different cities speak differently. In Philadelphia we call sandwiches hoagies but in many other places around the country they are called subs. In New York the commonly known word carry is substituted with schlep. Different words are adapted and changed over time. This concept is much the same for neighborhoods in Philadelphia. Words don’t really change from neighborhood to neighborhood but sentence structure does. One is not better than the other, they are just very different.

            I always talk to my parents and other family members about this issue because they always experience it as well. My mom once told me something that has stayed with me for a while, “the world is not black.” Just because I’m not considered or accepted by some black people doesn’t mean that other black people won’t.

 

 

Malik Tlili

Silver

English

 

Alchemy of Language

 

            I’m new to my school and it’s only been a few months. No one really knows that much about who I am or about my ethnic background. I always dread having projects or class discussions about language or ethnicity because when people see me they just see another “white Italian” like all the rest of the kids in my class. I looked like everyone and spoke with the normal South Philly accent. I’m really Tunisian, which is in North Africa along the Mediterranean Sea.  It is traditionally an Arabic country but being so close and raided by the neighboring countries we have a European culture. Our langue, which is Tunisian, isn’t one specific language. It is a mixture of French, Italian, and Arabic. I don’t have the traditional African or Arabian complexion so everyone assumes I’m just white. I enjoy being seen as the same as everyone because it makes me feel as though I fit in, so I don’t really express who I really am. I just stay away from the subject without having to encounter the situation. But it’s difficult having foreign parents who are more comfortable speaking their native langue, so when they call I must speak to their way of understanding.

“Hello”

“Miko, Ca Va?”

“Yes mom, inti Ca va?”

“mm. fama pizza fil cucina”

“Ok Mom.”

“Ok chao”

“Bye”

My Mom asked are you ok? I replied yes are you ok? She says yes and tells me there is pizza in the kitchen. I reply ok attempting to avoid any further conversation with my mother and stay away from comments from my friends. Unfortunately there is always that one person who over hears the conversation and begins questioning.

“What was that?!”

“What was what?” I said pretending to not know what is going on.

“On the phone what was that? What are you speaking”

“Not sure what your sayin”

I am then put under the spotlight growing hot and sweaty becoming uncomfortable as if being the unknown species that was just discovered in America.  I then become defensive trying to get out of the conversation.

“You were like ahjibkcnojbdsijb bye”

“oh I though you knew? I’m Tunisian”

“whats that”

“French, Italian and Arabic. Its in North Africa, right across from Italy”

“Ooh, I thought you were Chinese for a second lol”

“Yeaa, I’m part Italian not full blooded tho”

“Ooh”

“Yea”

I bring up the reference that I am “part Italian” to bring a connection to everyone else and to bring everything back to thinking I’m “normal” again. I also bring up how Tunisia is “right across from Italy” to show how we aren’t so different. It works sometimes but others just keep believing that I’m a foreign weirdo. I can connect to James Baldwin’s view on what language is and how it is introduced. He believes it is “…an alchemy that transformed ancient elements into a new language.” My language bonds 3 different types of ethnicities and in my opinion 3 is better than 1. Over time language is constructed and altered in many different ways. My language is one of those changed over time. Every Language is unique and according to who you are you may use that language in a unique way. Tunisia bonds French, Italian, and Arabic. It is not one standard language but it is still the way of communication in that country. Language is one of the unique ways of discovering someone’s identity. There are some languages that have been changed overtime and are difficult to decipher and connect to a certain background. When back tracking the alchemy of language, the identity becomes more clear. Your outer appearance and complexion may not tell your true identity, but language can reveal the actual origin of a person.

 

            They were looking at us weird again. If I weren’t in our little circle I would have, too.

            “Withagair Ithagis Shith-agee?” Asked Brittney.

Where is she?

            “Ithagi dithagont nithago.” I replied.

I don’t know.

            It took a while to learn how to speak it, though it was so simple, and even longer to actually speak it fluently, if you didn’t hear it in practice.

            “Shith-agee sithagead shith-agee withagus cithagum mithaging ithagout tithagoo dithagay.” Giavanna stated.

She said she was coming out today.

            “Ithagi nithago” Brigitte said.

I know.

            Others stared as we conversed just as quickly as any other group of friends, but we were speaking Ithaguh. I now have lost just about all ability to speak it fluently, but I still understand it. Around our neighborhood, only a few others beside my friends and I knew how to speak it. We would share secrets and gossip, but only in Ithaguh, so that only we could understand each other.

            We learned it fast, picked it up in a snap and by the next week, we were speaking it faster than English. If we had to ask questions they were in Ithaguh, if it only dealt with someone in our group, it was in Ithaguh, the only time we didn’t speak it was when we were in someone’s house. It was something that we claimed to be ours, something only we understood and we protected it.

            There’s always a reason to develop a new language or use a language that is different than the one you normally speak. My friends and I spoke Ithaguh so another group around our neighborhood couldn’t understand us. You see, they always tried to spy on us, always tried to catch us talking about them. But we never did. We only talked about music, movies and our own business. Even though we knew we didn’t talk badly about them, we still were tired of being spied on and them trying to put their noses where they didn’t belong. So, Heather, the oldest girl in our group, taught us how to speak Ithaguh.

             It was like when the slaves were brought here from America, they all spoke different languages and they were forced to learn English, so they made it their own. They spoke in their own dialect of English and they sang songs in metaphors about plans of escaping and news, to be sure that their slave masters didn’t know what they were saying. Also, it could be how soldiers developed Morse Code to understand each other from a distance through lights or knocks or how people developed sign language so they could understand the deaf and the deaf could understand them. We didn’t want to be spied on anymore, that was our reason for learning how to speak Ithaguh. We needed something that not many people around us understood, but we needed something that we could use to understand each other.

            Glona Anzaldúa described a language she spoke as, “A language which they can connect their identity to, one capable of communicating the realities and values true to themselves.” This means that the people who spoke her language developed it to connect the language to people like them, so that if they heard it on the street, they would know they weren’t in an unfamiliar place. They developed a language so that they could talk personally with people like them and this is how we used Ithaguh. If we heard someone around our neighborhood speaking it, usually it was one of us. We only used it to talk about music, movies and our own problems, just like we did when we conversed in English, the only difference was that only we could understand each other and no one else could understand us.

Sergey Kuznetsov

"Maybe you should shut the hell up before I kick you!"

"And who is going to do it, your mommy?"

"No, I will personally do it!"

"I hate you so much, I will ***"...

            Arguing with Ilia, and cursing pretty badly at each other, I did not notice my mom walking towards me on the street. She was shocked. I always was a very polite person at home, never cursed, and practically was a different person then she saw just now. Unfortunately for myself, I used to lie about the fact that I never curse, but after seeing that, she understood that it all.

"Sergey Kuznetsov, I can't believe what I am hearing!"

"Am... mom? What are you doing here, I thought that you weren't going to the store today, how much did you hear?"

"I have heard enough, you both are in so much trouble! You yourself are grounded, and Ilia's mother is going to hear about this as well!"

"Mom, please, we didn't mean what we said, it was just a joke!"

"Maybe you should have thought of it before, lets go!"

She didn't even want to talk to me after it. Even up until now, I am trying to understand why I used to change the way I talked with people so drastically, but no matter how I approach the problem, I can't. Changing the way I speak still helps me drastically, but while I am growing older, I start changing a lot less, and acting more similarly everywhere.

It is very possible that one of the reasons that I have spoke that way, was because I accidentally entered the reverse speech stage. It sometimes happens to me, when I go to extremes with my feelings, and at that moment I have really been disappointed about what happened. As was said by By Kathy J. Jeffries "the Reverse Speech of a person indicates their subconscious or unconscious thoughts. The Reverse Speech of a person indicates truthful responses or thoughts. The subconscious cannot lie. These thoughts can be on a conscious level, contradicting or confirming the forward speech. This would be the first level of Reverse Speech. The second level of Reverse Speech reveal a persons personality make-up, emotions and thoughts that are not on a conscious level. These reversals use metaphors to communicate the messages from our unconscious mind. The third level of Reverse Speech indicates emotions and feelings from within our deep self. Third level reversals use archetypes as well as metaphors to describe ones' innermost beliefs. As third level reversals come from the very core of ones' being, they are very powerful in their meaning." When I spoke to my friend, I have been only in only in first level of reverse speech. If my mom hadn't stopped me however, I might have even entered the 2'd or 3'd stage, which would probably cause a break of our friendship to occur. The hard thing is to know when to stop, when you enter the first stage. Anyone can enter those stages, but the ones that may actually hurt from them are politicians. If they accidentally say something to the press that they should not hear, then their life would be destroyed.

            Code switching also is a very big issue, especially when people are starting to learn a new language. (Author unknown, Power of code switching) "Professionals studying code-switching continue to debate about the advantages and disadvantages of code-switching for second language learners. Some arguments against code-switching say it is not a true language; one is not fluent enough in either language if code-switching is necessary; or, code-switching is not academically appropriate. On the other hand, there seem to be more arguments in support of code-switching." This person states that there are two sides of the coin in code switching. If both are taken in consideration, it is neither  good nor bad. It makes people harder to understand, but at the same time, if a very literate person is trying to say a metaphor in English, but only knows how to say it in his native language, he or she should be able to say it in English, and if they get a bad reaction, then they may explain what they have mean.

"Serge, are we not late?"

"No, it's only 4 PM, we still have 3 hours."

"How did you know, did you look at the clock when I didn't notice?"

"No, my organism works like clocks!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well it means that I can feel what time it is, and approximate, apparently this time I was correct."

"Hm, If you say so."

 

        Language is the roadmap of a culture. It tells you where its people came from and where they are going. - Rita Mae Brown. When I think about this quote I think about my experiences because of my language that have come to make me the person I am today. I remember when I was 12 and going to camp Hidden Falls, nervous and scared I wouldn’t fit in, I would have done just about anything to fill that void. As I got off the bus and counselors begin to play icebreaker games a few girls came up to me and asked if I was Puerto Rican, My first response was to say no, but I didn’t. I did my best to try to sound like them. I wasn’t alone for the next two weeks, but looking back now I wish I had acted myself.       

                                                                                                                                                                  As I got older I begin to notice more how I spoke with friends, family, teachers, and other authoritative figures. Everyone talks a certain way and many of us believe we’re speaking the right way. But, what is the right way? James Baldwin has said ”I’ am curious to know what definition of language is to be trusted.” I believe Baldwin said this because we live in a society where change happens all the time. Many want to be inferior and if manipulating another gives you power to do so, then people will. Also when Rita Mae Brown said, language is the Roadmap of a culture.  She meant that one’s language only reflects their culture and who they are. Changing and trying to tell someone the correct way to speak is nearly impossible.

 

        Another experience of mines is my first day of 7^th grade. We had to speak about how each of us felt on the world trade center terrorists attack. I was excited because I thought I had a really good paragraph, but when I went to the front of the classroom and begin to speak, I heard whispers of why I spoke the way I did. When I sat down, a boy next to me asked ” Why do you speak that way?”

I replied  ”What way?”

”Like, white people, you speak like a white person.”

Then a girl next to me said ”shut up, its because she’s smart.”

Automatically, they connected that if you were smart you spoke more like a white person. They believed that the way a white person spoke was the right way. Slowly I noticed that people judge you based not just on appearances but on the way you speak. If it only takes 2 seconds to gather a first impression, imagine how much they think they’ve gathered about your intelligence.  Language and culture is all around us, and it’s up us to not judge a person against these things. A person’s language is always changing depending on the environment there in. When I’m with my friends I normally say ”wassup” or ”solid.”  When I’m talking to teachers I’ll say ”hi” or ”okay.” I change my words because I was raised that there is a time and place for everything, to respect those older than me, and that giving respect was not giving by telling an older person ”wassup.”  My culture is the reason I speak the way I do, and I believe that my language is neither wrong nor right.

​ What would you say?   

                                                                                                Michael Sanders

      1/13/11
      A-Band.

When I’m chilling with my friends, there comes sup. When I’m with parents sup becomes Hello. When I’m with Nana it becomes Hey. When I’m with my Spanish teachers it becomes hola. There are many different ways of saying this one word. Depending on who I’m with I say different words with the same meaning. I don’t know who I am or what my real identity is. It changes from person to person.

I’m was walking to the 30^th street train station and I saw a Hobo.

“Hey little fella got some food today?”

“Hey no. Uhm no I don’t have any.” Then I ran. I was freaked out.

It might be 2 words but that’s all it takes to tell me who I am. I usually say hey or hey you, to people I don’t know or people who I’m not comfortable with.

On my first day of SLA I was sitting at a table. Then some kid, I still don’t remember now from summer institute, came and sat next me.

“Yo Mike whats up?” Asked the Kid

“Hey you. It’s... It’s you.”  I replied.

“How you doing? “

“Good, Good. I’m doing, umm I’m doing good.”

            I tend to stutter in uncomfortable situations. I am never comfortable with people I don’t know very well. To them I talk like a nervous cow.

According to James Baldwin “ Language … reveals the private identity and connects one with … the larger, public, or communal identity them” This quote would connect perfectly with people, Especially with me. The meaning behind the quote is that language of a person can tell others who or how that person is. The quote means that people hide their true selves until they are comfortable or friends with a person. Until they are able to talk or communicate with language no one will know his or hers true identity. Like in an episode of “Ned’s Declassified” there was a new student. The student’s dad was in the military so she would move all the time. So every time she moved she would change her identity based on the situation. But Ned would eventually find the truth about her. I believe it is the same thing that happened to me when I got my first friend of SLA.

“ Mike, when did you become so funny?” Asked the friend

“I don’t know why. I just say what comes to my mind.” Said I.

“ But you are always so quiet”

“I don’t know why I just do what I do”

From that moment my “Heys” turn into “Hellos” or “sups”. At least to

my friend it changed. I never at the time figure out the reasons on why I do the things I do. For some reason my whole identity changes from place to place, and Person to person. After school for the first couple of weeks I would go and hang out with neighborhood friends. Hey turns into “what’s up my Nigga.” but the next day at school I would never even think about saying that. First of all I don’t know how they would they react to the word. The comfort level is not there.

When I am with teachers or other grown up’s I try not to embarrass myself. My Heys are Hello’s to be polite. I don’t think they would accept a sup or MN. The hello changes every time.

“  Hey Mike ,you are really struggling right now in Spanish. Is there any thing you want to talk about ?” Said a teacher

            “ No No it’s ok” Said me.

I would just walk away. I never usually talk to people. I don’t want them to judge me for who I am. I am very sensitive so I try to avoid controversy.

After my day my parents would usually ask about my day.

“How was your day ?“asked my mom.

Usually if it was my friends I would respond with something cool. I don’t think  my parents  would find the humor with the  cool way of talking. Most of the times my cool stuff would turn into a punishment. So I just say “Yo. It’s been good. “My “Hey” turns into yo’s when I have the comfort but I don’t want to say what is in my mind.  This causes me to not know what my identity is. My parents think they know who I am. Not even I know who I am.
            “ Michael how was your day”

“It was good.”

I would always say it is good but really not.  I don’t want my parents to over react. So I hide stuff from them. Maybe even my identity. These things not only happen to me but they secretly happen to other people. People of the world today do not know what their true identity is. Like me they change their identity based on the people or the situation they are in. It is hard because in every situation it changes. My situations would change base on my comfort level.

 

Dréquan Taylor

                                                                                        What Did You say

“Yo Dré those ya sneaks?” I said

“Yea bruh those mine” he replied

“Ayee these jawns tough”

“Yeaa these the new one’s”

“ardd that’s wats up.”

 

Since I was 11 years old I have been going to Orlando, Florida every summer. I usually stayed there for most of the summer and came back just before school started back up again. Every year I would go down there I would adjust to the different words they used down there, that I didn't use when I was in Philadelphia. The first few times I went to Florida with them, I would get lost with the words they were saying, because I was not used to them, I didn't know what they meant, or what they actually said sometimes. When I would come back to Philly and use the words that I had heard and learned in Florida people would look at me strange and ask me "what did I say?" or they would be like "what is that?" It was like when I was in Florida they would not understand some of the things I would be saying and when I left Florida the people in Philly would not understand everything I was saying. Last year when I was in Florida My god brother, his friends, and I were playing Mortal Kombat. I was playing, and I was trying to do combos so I could charge up my special move for the boss. The boss came and I had three bars filled and I thought that was enough for the special I wanted to use, but I needed four and I didn't know that until I tried to hit the special button, and a message popped and it said I needed four. While I was playing I was said "oh dang I didn't know you needed four of them jawns" Then I asked them "Did you know you needed four of them jawns?"  They all immediately looked at me and said “what did you say?” “This the second time you said that today.” “What are you saying john?” We went on for a while about what I was saying and what I meant when I said it. The crazy thing is my dad had called me later on that day, and I had him on speaker-phone. He was asking me a question about madden, and he said the word jawn as well and they were all said “what?” with that confused look on their faces like I know he didn’t just say that.

 

In the story “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What is?” by James Baldwin there are a few things that he says that catches my attention my attention and makes me think. I do like one particular quote that he used in his paper. He said “ 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 identity: it reveals the private identity, and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity.” I believe that there is a deeper understanding to this quote, and I believe that the deeper understanding is that the way you speak(how you pronounce your words, and the way you say them) affects how you are viewed. It also says that the way you “speak” affects how much power you are given & your identity. They way a person speaks is a main way people assume your race or judge you. F.e if I were to call up a business office trying to set up a date for an interview speaking “black English” or slang instead of formal/proper English there would be a few different things that the person im talking to on the phone would be thinking. One he probably wouldn’t want to even set up an interview with me because of the way I talk, and there is a great possibility that he assumes that im black because I use slang, and not pronounce all of my letters. Everything we say comes down ultimately to what we are saying and how we say it.

 

To me this quote means that our voice and speech is more powerful than we know. The thing humans are most judged by besides there skin color is their speech and the way they talk. I think that the way a person talks has a great influence on much how much power or respect that they are seen to have in life and society. A person with a speech impairment has a lot less likely chance of getting a job such as being the president of the United States than a person who speaks formal/proper English. Language can be the most powerful tool a person can have that they can not necessarily control in a lot of cases.

 

 

 

The Words Make You

Rebecca Fenton

Blue Stream

January 13, 2011

 

I was born and raised in Roxborough.

When I was younger I didn’t really think anything of the way I spoke and how I said words but now that I’m older I see that they really define who I am today and the way others see me. I go to other places and I am seen as, and often judged as being a “Roxborough girl.” Some of the words that I say get on people’s nerves such as, “ard” which is an abbreviation meaning “alright then.” Also, if someone’s getting on my nerves I’ll say something like “k” or “o.” This is what most of the people in my neighborhood say and I pick up this slang from them.  Some people don’t realize the effect that their words have on others.

When I’m not in my own neighborhood no onse really thinks this language is weird, they just are aware that I’m from Roxborough. Also, when I go into other neighborhoods their language seems weird to me. For example, when I go to south philly and hear their slang like, “kilt,” “hengk,” and they all call people clowns. I didn’t know what any of this meant when I went there and it still seems weird to me even though I know what they’re talking about now, just because this slang is not used in my neighborhood. When I go to these different neighborhoods I feel weird when they say words like this because I feel like an outsider. I bet people feel the same way when they come to my neighborhood and I say things like “o” and “k.” For example, someone from New Jersey came down to my neighborhood with his friend. I said these words and he asked me if I was trying to be rude to him which I definetly was not. It really made me think about the impact that my words have on people and how I may come off to others. I feel kind of bad now because people don’t know that I’m just kidding around with them and whatnot.

People in places such as North Philly use slang that is different to me also. For example, lots of kids at SLA use the term, “bad” to describe someone being very attractive. I’ve never heard this term around Roxborough before either. The first time I heard someone use this word it was directed towards my friend Kim Parker. “She so bad!!!” I heard the boy say. I thought to myself, what is he talking about? Kim isn’t bad, nor does he know her enough to judge her in that kind of way. I thought it was pretty weird. The next day I heard the same boy say that another girl was, “bad.” This is when I started to catch on that he meant these girls were pretty. It sounded/still sounds so stupid to me. I don’t understand why they can’t just say that they are attractive.

In English class we read a few essays on how people use language in life. In the essay, If Black English isn’t a Language then What is? There is a quote by James Baldwin. “…When to speak a certain language could be dangerous, even fatal.” I agree with this quote 100% because lots of people can get really offended by language that others speak. For example, when I go in places with different types of people with ethnic groups I be careful of what I say. Not because I’m racist at all or anything like that just because I live in an area where there are all white people and I’m so used to speaking freely not caring what I say since everyone is just the same as me. I make a lot of jokes and need to realize that people might get offended. In different areas you also need to show respect because you can’t just go into someone else’s “territory.” If I were to go into a neighborhood highly populated with black people and I said words with profanity they would be so offended. I would probably get beat up.

            If everyone were to watch things they say then I don’t think there would be as much fighting and war and whatnot. I think we should all start thinking about the way we come off to people. If you are in class and you talk like you don’t care, then teachers are obviously going to think that you don’t care and think that you’re a bad kid. That actually happened to me firsthand so I would know. I think that your language that you use tells a lot about who you are and how you feel about the way others think of you. If you are going to meet a boyfriends family or your bestfriends family you’re not going to use curse words or words such as “you suck.” You’re going to be proper and hope that they like you. This is because if you have good language then people respect you a lot more and think highly of you. This is why some people don’t realize the effect that their words have on others.

1/13/11

A Band

           

There are hundreds and hundreds of varieties of languages in the world. Each language conveys different sounds, emotions, and even a person’s status. Everyone is usually taught to learn and speak only one language depending on what that society requires. Even though the sole purpose of language is to be able to communicate with one another, it is also used required in becoming a part of society itself. Language isn’t just a series of sounds interlaced with each other used to communicate, but also to connect your self to society’s standards.

            In my case, I was brought up to learn two languages. I was born in Indonesia and the language spoken there is Indonesian. When I had reached the age of 4, my family decided to move to the United States of America. Coming here, I only knew how to speak Indonesian. Even though my parents had hired an English tutor back home, I still struggled to speak English, mainly because I didn’t pay attention. I regretted this when it came time for school. I was very lost and I didn’t know what was going on most of the time. The only words I knew how to say in English were “yes” and “no.” So most of the time, when someone said something to me, I always responded with either “yes” or “no.” It didn’t matter if I understood what they were saying. The thought of not being able to understand anything or anyone was killing me. So, I just stayed quiet and kept to myself.

            After 6 months or so, English didn’t seem as difficult. The different sounds of day-to-day talk became very familiar. Since I desperately wanted to feel like I belonged, so I worked hard to study English. Every day, if I would hear a new word that I wouldn’t understand, I would ask my parents what it meant. Even though they weren’t fluent, they knew enough to tell me what some words meant. A year went by and I had achieved my goal. English became second nature to me. Even though I spoke a lot of English outside of school, I didn’t forget my native language. My parents would always make me speak Indonesian at home. They said they were fine and actually happy that I was learning a second language. But they always reminded me never to forget the language I was born with. This was because Indonesia will always be a part of me and I should embrace my heritage. I agreed with them.

            Richard Rodriguez quoted, “The belief, the calming assurance that I belonged in public, had at last taken hold.” Richard Rodriguez took the words right out of my mouth. The assurance that I belonged in public also had finally taken hold, just like Richard. The fact that I had conquered the English language made me feel like a part of society. I was no longer just Indonesian anymore, but also American. But I didn’t forget about my roots. I still enjoyed speaking in my native language. These two languages also made me feel as if I was accepted everywhere. It made me feel like was a part of two different worlds.

            Language plays a major role in defining who a person is. It can define who someone is in society. Since society does require people to be able to speak a certain language, you are expected to know and be able to speak that language. Learning a new language opens up a whole new view and takes on a certain part of society. Language isn’t just a series of sounds interlaced with each other used to communicate, but also to connect your self to society’s standards.

           

 

Arlana Brown

January 4, 2011

English

Silver Stream

Self Confidence

“What’s your name?” she says.

“Arlana Brown I am here for an interview. I am supposed to meet with Mr. Jackson,” I state.

“Have a seat Mr. Jackson will be with you in a while. While you wait can I ask a question?” she says.

“Yes you may” I reply.

“What school do you go to? Most youth come in here with their pants down, cussing, and just everything we don’t need here?” she stammers.

“Thank you I take that as a compliment and I go to Science Leadership Academy on 22^nd and Arch Streets” I reply.

“Oh that really good school that just opened. I heard about them before my niece is supposed to go there. Well thanks for answering my question and nice talking to you. Actually Mr. Jackson is waiting for you. Sorry to keep you waiting. And by the way, off the record I think you will get the job. Good luck!” she says happily.

“Thanks Miss.”, I say confused.

“Mrs. Williams”, she replies.

“Thanks Mrs. Williams you have a good day” I reply.

I go and take a seat and remember what she says. It brightened up my day with the compliment she gave me. Most people say I am hyper and that I usually mispronounce my words. I guess I talk differently around my friends and then when it is business. It’s a time and a place for everything. It was my time to go in for the job and of course I am looking fresh. I have fresh dress clothes on and now time to switch to business mode. I leave street talk behind when I walk through his door. This is the start to my whole life.

We start the interview. He came to a decision I was still in school and the job was far to travel to everyday. He said it wasn’t that I wasn’t capable and wasn’t qualified, it was that the time of my school and the job would interfere. He told me to come see him when I turn 18 and he would have a position ready for me. Walking away that day didn’t make me see that things went bad for me, it actually went good. I was happy that he told me that because I knew for myself that I was capable of talking to people in higher places than they and I thought I was highly educated for my age. I went back to Mrs. Williams and explained what happened and she exclaimed with “What! If I was in there I would hire you, I would pick you up everyday so you could have this job. Well he is obviously blind to not hire you. But one day he will remember and will be very upset to see you on Oprah. You’re a talented and intelligent young women and I wish you the best”.

I was so shocked she said this that I flew over and gave her a hug and told her “thank you”. In How To Tame A Wild Tongue, Glona Anzaldía writes, “Ethnic identity is twin to linguistic identity-I am my language”. Your language is the same as your skin, as is your personality. Your language represents you. She also writes that, “Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself”. I have had experiences when people would tell me “you say this wrong” and I would get mad and feel I hate the way I talk, until one day. I had to learn that no matter what you speak or how you speak, you are who you are. Nothing can change that not even your language. From that day I had the self-determination that I could do anything no matter what! I learned people that knew me for 5 minutes gave me more credit then people who knew me for a lifetime. Just the way you look can determine the language you speak. It’s your choice to live by the stereotype.

​Kenisha Hood

Language Essay

“Ugh, we got drama next. Kill me now.” I said.

“Why you don’t like drama class? Its actually fun.” said my friend.

“I mean like, I like the class, but it’s just, well I don’t know.”

“I think its cause you don’t talk much”

“What you mean? I always talk around ya’ll?

“Oh true, but well never mind.”

“Hmmm, ok.”

            That was the end of the conversation, but still my mind pondered about what my friends exactly meant by me not talking much. I know that I do act shy sometimes, but that’s only around people who I don’t know or don’t feel comfortable around. In class, I usually do not raise my hand because my language changes when I’m talking to my friend on the side, and when I am speaking in front of my class. When I speak in front of a lot of people, my voice seems to get lower and I begin to rush my words. My mother often tells me that whenever I have an exciting story to tell, I began to talk really fast, but I never notice it. Drama class just began, and I had to perform my monologue in front of the whole class. As soon as I got on stage, I could already feel my throat tightening up. I felt my mouth get dry as Introduced myself. “My name is Kenisha and I’m playing a girl named Buffy from Scary Movie 2.” As I looked down into the audience, many faces were staring right back at me, and I suddenly got nervous. I tried to speak, but nothing would come out. “Kenisha come on, go head and start your scene”, shouted voices from the audience. Even though the comments that were shouted from the audience should have encouraged me, it actually made me feel worst. I attempted to speak again, but my words came out dry and cracked. Overall, my monologue turned out to be terrible, which brought my grade down. As soon as I got in the car, I told my mother what was going on.

“Mom, can you take me out of drama class?” I asked.

“For what? I thought you liked it?” asked my mother.

“I do like it, but I just can’t handle it anymore. I always seem to mess up performances and that is hurting my grade.”

“Well, what’s exactly the problem?”

“Well, when I get in front of the class to perform, I get shy and then my voice changes which messes up my whole performance, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Ard, we will work on it. So you’re staying in drama.”

“Ughh, ard mom. Don’t get mad if I fail.”

All that week, my mom was pushing me to do better. That encouraged me to push myself as well. I practiced in front of friends, family members, and even in the hallways where random people walked by. It was the day to perform, and I felt more confident. I ended up doing my scene right and my teacher said he was proud of me.

According to James Baldwin, “ The price for this is the acceptance, and achievement, of one’s temporal identity.” He believes that the reason people usually change the way they talk around others is just for their acceptance at the time. I was looking for the acceptance of my mother, classmates, and my teacher. When I thought that I couldn’t receive acceptance from them, I wanted to quit. As I worked more on it, my confidence built up and I gained the ability to speak in front of others. I still get a little bit nervous but I still improved. People speak around others based on how confident they are. When I am around my friends, I am confident and I know that they will not judge me. If I try to speak in front of people I don’t know, I feel uncomfortable; I lose confidence and my voice changes. A person’s language or the way they speak changes based on the comfort level of the speaker.

Maggie Long

Silver

The many tongues of language

 

“Ayo, Maggie! What’s happenin?”

“Nuthin much man, how bout you?”

“Eh, it’s alright, you know, just chillin. See ya tomorrow iight!?”

“Yea dude, for sure”

            This language would be my “second language”. My first would have to be how I talk to some of my friends and people who are more educated than me. I was brought up to talk with respect and to speak with words that you would mainly only hear in a thesaurus. Since I moved to Philly, I have gotten more used to the slang and speech that people down here use. Now, I can adjust myself for different people. This helps me fit in and get along with different people. This helps me identify myself as a person because I know that since I can change my language with anyone, in the blink of a second, I feel more bilingual because of that. I feel that having more experience with different people’s language can help you in the long run because you will know more about the culture and speech hands on.

 

“Hey Maggie! I read that book you gave me! It was superb! May I suggest a book to for you to take a look at?”

“Yea, sure! What is it called?”

“A Clockwork Orange”

“Ohh! I read that already! It’s very…well…haha, unordinary. However, it is well written.”

“I concur”

“Alrighty, well I have class, but I will see you later!”

“See ya!”

 

Along with the many other languages I possess, I can also know when to turn off the other languages to talk to someone and have an educational talk with them. I adjust my language in order to fit in more with that group of people who are talking that way. This makes it easier to relate to them and to make them and myself more comfortable in the environment, since we all will speak the same way.

In the story by Maxine Hong Kingston, it describes how different languages are used and how people in the world try to hide behind them. In the last pages of the story, she talks about how you can speak in certain areas and why you should. In the words of Maxine Hong Kingston, “You can’t entrust your voice to the Chinese either. They want to capture your voice for their own use.” Saying this she explains how she feels about the Chinese without even describing her feelings toward them. To me, this is offensive and too general of an explanation. I feel like her generalization is affecting more than just the Chinese. She is saying that if you talk to a Chinese person, they will try to copy your voice and your language so that they can use it also. I feel like it doesn’t have to just be the Chinese that you talk to where this can occur. If you talk to someone of your own race, then they could “capture” your language also. This is kind of like how I change my language for different groups. I learn by listening to the people talk and then “capturing” that language and vocabulary and then repeating it back. I feel this makes it easier to fit in and talk to that group of people.

During Maxine Hong Kingston’s story, the mother is talking to the child about how she “cut his tongue”. She obviously did not mean this literally, but more as an expression. She continues to talk about how it affected him and how she cut it. “I cut it 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.” I take this as her saying she made him able to speak multiple languages by speaking multiple languages to him and making his environment different also. By putting him in an environment where people speak different ways, he will learn all of those ways just by being part of that community. I can relate to this saying because when I moved to Philly I take that as the “cut” of my tongue. I went from being in a place where people talked all the same way, to Philadelphia, where it is more diverse and integrated. I feel multi-lingual because of that. The “cut” of my tongue was a good thing for me in my opinion.

Out of all of the languages in the world I am very happy with the ones I know, and are still learning. Different ways of talking are all over the city. Engaging yourself in conversation with different languages is definitely worthwhile. I have learned from my own experiences how and when to talk to somebody and what language I should use. This has made me a better person and more multi-lingual. In conclusion, I think learning more about people’s language and experiencing it yourself can help you out in the long run. 

Morgan Marant

Gold Stream

 

A SEPTA Mentality

            There is a natural code of conduct while riding a SEPTA bus. That is: you’re in public, treat this bus better then you would yourself. SEPTA even took the time to put these rules on every bus in Philadelphia. Apparently, the woman next t me had never taken the time to read the rules or to even consider that she’s not on the bus alone. She talked animatedly into her phone and loudly popped her gum; unaware that everyone on the bus could hear her conversation.

“I don’t unda-stand ‘POP’ why I didn’t get the job! ‘POP’ I mean, I’m qualified and sh*t ya know what I’m sayin! ‘POP’ they just aint hire me cuz I’m back.”

My first impulse was to slap the phone out of her hand. The reason you didn’t get the job is because of the way you speak not because of your ethnicity, I thought. She probably doesn’t know any better. What a shame.

James Baldwin the author of several books writes “To open your mouth…  is to ‘put your business in the street.’ You have confessed your parents, your youth, your shoo, your self-esteem and alas your future.”  He is undoubtedly correct. The way a person speaks not only conveys their language it can exhibit how they were raised.  Language and speech can dictate who a person becomes as an adult.

My mother and father both pushed me to speak properly. My mother- a lawyer- and my father –a school teacher- taught me to use correct grammar at some of the earliest stages in my life.  There were many times in my life where I went to conventions and legal functions with my mother. Several times I was complimented on how well spoken I was at such a young age. When I attended middle school the way I spoke began to give me a problem. My peers would often tell me that I didn’t speak like the stereotypical black girl was supposed to therefore that made me not black but an Oreo; white on the inside and black on the outside. My speech displayed that I was and still am destined to be successful. It appears that the way a ‘black girl’ speaks does not reveal those ideas or characteristics.  

After those incidents I began taking out my anger on people who resembled the ones that made fun of me; most of them were of my own ethnicity. I looked down on them. Why couldn’t they speak proper English like the rest of the world? Why were so many of them loud and angry? Why couldn’t they be like everyone else? Then I came to an understanding that I knew nothing of every individual, black person in the United States. I was judging them solely, on how they spoke. Their language defined the identity that society had already created for them and I went along with it and even believed it.

A language does show a lot about a person’s identity. A language can even determine people’s initial reaction upon first meeting them but a language cannot determine where a person ends up. If and only if they allow the identity that society has placed upon them to hinder them then they have allowed themselves to become a product of their language and environment.

            Even though I am older and wiser I still cringe when I hear a person speak like the woman on the SEPTA bus. A small part of me retreats back into my old personality and says, “Here’s another black person setting us back five years.” As I pull myself out of that mindset I know that it is just a language. A language that only defies how the person speaks and not who they are. A number of comparisons can be made between ethnicity, language and class but the truth is the way a person speaks does not create their identity.  It creates the identity that society has designated for them. 

Jessica Hinton

Gold Stream

1 – 13 – 10

“The Sound of White” 

“Why ya talk like that?”

“Like what?” I replied.

 “Like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” I exclaimed.

“Ya talk … like a white person.”

“Oh… ok,” I stammered.

How should I reply to someone calling me a “white person”? Am I supposed to recognize different types of speech at ten years old? I’ve constantly been told that I speak differently, but I didn’t really notice it. I felt that I spoke the same way everyone else did. Well, that was in fourth grade, but throughout elementary school, I wasn’t able to tell the difference. I mean, there were a few kids in the class that occasionally used “slang”, but I didn’t think it was different than how the rest of the kids spoke.

I went to a K-8 school, so the same people that called me “white” in elementary school were the same people that called me “white” in middle school. In middle school, I was jokingly called “white girl”, but I didn’t really mind it anymore. It had been going on for so long that I just ignored it, and would answer them anyway. It didn’t really offend me. I had no idea as to what their intention were for calling me that, but it was never said in a harmful way so I had no reason to get angry about the name.

            It wasn’t until the summer before seventh grade that I actually questioned how exactly a “white person” spoke. Of all the year’s I was called “white”, I never really questioned the reason for them calling me that.

“Why ya talk like a white person?”

“How does a white person talk?” I questioned.

“They talk all proper and stuff.”

Honestly, I was still a little confused. I didn’t feel that speaking proper was exclusively for one group of people. I’m an African – American, but people don’t think that. Everyone speaks a common language, but people aren’t all the same, so there are different ways that they sound.

            A few weeks ago, I was on ichat with a friend.  We weren’t really talking about much, but my responses to her made her question me.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing much. What are you doing?” I replied

“Why you typing all proper?”

I didn’t really know how to answer that. It’s no different than someone asking me why I spoke like a “white girl”. I don’t have an explanation for why I speak the way I do, except that I was raised this way. Yes, sometimes I might catch on to what other people are saying, but the way I speak will stay the same.  This is who I am, and there is no one, and nothing that will ever be able to change that about me.

According to James Baldwin, “language incontestably reveals the speaker”. He feels that a person’s speech reveals their identity, and defines them as such. This is why many people are judged. Some people believe that your race determines the way you speak. There are many connections that people draw to conclude the race of someone. For example, African – American’s are stereotypically loud, obnoxious, and speak using slang. But, not all African – American’s fit into that stereotype. I’m one of those people. I am a little shy, and am soft-spoken.

From these experiences, I’ve learned something. You can’t judge someone because of the way they speak. There are many qualities of people that are different than others. People sound, act, and look different than each other. You just have to accept that. Your speech may somewhat reveal who you are, but you have to move past that and view them as a human being.

NaQuan Harding

1/5/11

Gold English

 

Comedy: A Double-edged Sword

There I am, sitting in a cramped room with the school’s principle. It’s my interview before I’m actually accepted into the middle school. My attitude could make or break my chances of getting in. I have to maintain an acceptable attitude and stay calm. Here goes.

“So, NaQuan, what makes you want to come to this school?” asks the teacher.

“Oh, you know…I was thinking about it,” I joked. “I mean, I like the idea of fun staff, friendly students, no uniform code, and a half-day each week, but what really had me hooked were the school vests. Those things look awesome!”

She chuckles.

“Funny. You’re quite the goofball, aren’t you?”

“I try.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be right at home. Now you know you’ll have to work hard, right?”

“Bring in all the work you want. It can’t be much compared to the chores my mom makes me do.”

Et cetera, et cetera, insert funny comment here. That’s usually how my conversations go.  It’s like what James Baldwin once wrote, “Language, incontestably, reveals the speaker” He couldn’t be more right. The way you speak can say a lot about the kind of person you are, sometimes more so than your actions can. I’ve always been aware of this fact, and made sure I never rubbed anyone the wrong way. How? By always being the funny guy. The comic. The class clown. The goofball. If it involves comedy, that’s the kind of person I’ll be. Nothing says friendship like making jokes about it.

            If anything, I’m always trying to keep a funny attitude, preferably a sarcastic one, but not so much that I look like a jerk. Humor has always been my thing. It makes people laugh and keeps them on their good side. Whenever I first meet someone, I always try to come off as the funny guy. It’s an excellent way to break the ice, raises my chances of making early friends, and leaves a good first impression. It’s my specialty. Once I make someone even giggle, I know I’ve left my mark. It’s funny because I don’t make up my own jokes, but feed off of the situation to make my jokes. It works because it’s unexpected, but still related, and of course, funny. But not everything goes according to plan. There are times and places for jokes, and times and places to be serious. Churches, funerals, boot camps, these are places where jokes aren’t welcome, and they warn you that. But of course, I took these warnings about as seriously as I do 2012, and joked away. And let me tell you, when the consequences hit, they hit hard.

Luckily, I’ve never been to boot camp, and out of the two times I went to church, I don’t recall making any jokes, mostly because I was sleeping. But I won’t deny; there have been times when I was in the red on the jerk spectrum. On several occasions, I made the mistake of getting personal with my jokes, usually bringing family into my jokes. In other words, my jokes came off as insults. That doesn’t make someone like you, that makes them hate you, and when they hate you, they don’t laugh. That’s a big no-no when you’re trying to be funny.  I sometimes feel like I have no control of my sarcasm sometimes, and it pops up at the most inconvenient times. Like, for example, at a funeral.

 

 

 

The sister of a really good friend of mine died and I went to the funeral with him. Now, he was very familiar with my comedic nature, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I tried to cheer him up a little bit. I said, “At least she can’t annoy you anymore.” Again, I made a joke about family, and at the worst possible time to boot. Needless to say, that was a stupid thing to do. Very stupid. Extremely stupid. Obviously, he took that in a way I didn’t want him to, and that left a heavy blow in our friendship and left a bad mark. I looked like a cold, heartless jerk. It took months of me apologizing, begging, and even doing his work for him before he could even talk to me again, and even more groveling after that to restore the friendship.  That taught me the lesson of choosing the proper time and proper place to joke around.

I’m not a bad person, and I’m not a boring person. Being funny helps dispel those thoughts when I meet people. It’s always worked for me in the past, and will keep working in the future. Like I said, it’s my specialty. I don’t think I could be anything else. I’m not anyone else. I’m not the cool guy. Not the mysterious guy. Definitely not the tough guy. I’m just the funny guy, and that’s the way I like it.  

 

 

 

 

Adjusting to a brand new environment is not always easy. A wide array of unfamiliar faces, languages and cultures can really have its toll on your self-expression and how you react to the new people around you. When I first moved to America and started the seventh grade at my new school, I did not talk to anybody. I could tell that I did not fit in, so I tried desperately to stay by myself. I was completely surprised when a kid walked up to me during lunch on my third day of school and began speaking to me in Jamaica Creole, but I was even more surprised when I responded in Creole too.

         “Kuyaman, awara Shamarlon?” said Stephen politely.

--Hey Shamarlon, what’s up?

         “Nutten nah gwaan, a nyam mi a nyam lunch.” I responded, looking up

           from my table.

         --Nothing is going on, I am just eating lunch.

“Suh, yuh gudehe? I hav bwein nuticing yuh ina klashe ahn yuh sheem suh kiete? Ah why yuh suh shiete and tensiete? ” replied Steven, in a fluent Creole accent. He stared into my eyes as if he was reading my mind.

--So, are you okay? I have been noticing you in class and you are so quiet! Why are you so shy and tense?

“Bway, ebethinete es jus nwew tuh mi bekahese mi jus movitete fah Jamaica. Mi jus nuh fit een!” I answered. I was gaining more confidence with each question I answered.

           --Well, everything is just new to me because I just moved from Jamaica. I  

              just don’t fit in!

“Haha…Bway mi diiete pheel de samiete way pheie mi de movitete fah Jamaica tuh wen mi dida jus six. Eniyone woulda pheel dat way ef dey lefiete deh jome dey phewn alla dey liphe. Jus khone dat yuh a mi fren.” he replied in a friendly voice as he turned and walked away.

--Haha…well, I felt the same way because I moved from Jamaica too when I was only six years old. Anyone would feel that way if they leave the place where they had grown up all their life. Just know that I am your friend!

 Over the course of the next few weeks, Steven and I developed an unbreakable and sacred friendship that was centered around our similar language. We did everything together, from sitting at the same table at lunch to going to the movies on Saturdays. Throughout the course of our friendship and by speaking to him in Creole, my personality had begun to change. I was not the same shy insecure boy who was afraid to talk to people and to be apart of the society that existed outside of my home. I was not the same boy who only left my house when I had to go to school and who didn’t socialize with anyone except for my family. I had always blamed my language for my complete withdrawal from society because English was the dominant language in this new country and I did not relate to it. I soon came to realize that Creole also liberated me from the same secluded pit that it had created. Creole was the reason why Steven and I developed such a wonderful friendship and through this friendship, I gained a better understanding of society and my language. From this experience, I developed the courage to speak Creole in public without looking over my shoulders to see if someone is ridiculing me. Fast-forward three years and now I am teaching my friends how to say different phrases in Creole. My friendship with Steven has changed my life by making me embrace my language and not being ashamed of it. Due to the fact that Steven also moved to America from Jamaica, and went through the same situation that I was in, he gained a lot of experience on how to not seclude himself from society because of his language.

In the words of James Baldwin, “…[Language] reveals the private identity and connects one, with or divorces one from, the larger, public or communal identity.” Language can either bring people together or set them apart from the larger identity that is widely accepted by the speakers of this language.  Language can also determine how you associate yourself with a person and also a larger group within society. Through this, it also helps you to understand your true identity and develop your own unique perception of your language. In my story, I had difficulty associating myself with other people at school, in my community and wherever I went. I only connected with people who spoke Creole, including my family and Steven. It came down to the point that my language controlled my life by alienating me from the rest of society, but at the same time, it connected me with a specific group of people. As time progressed and with the mentoring from Steven, I was able to develop a better understanding of my personal identity and Creole. I realized that my language made me unique and that I should embrace and not disgrace it. From understanding my personal identity, I was then able to connect with other larger groups in society, something that I had never done before. I began to socialize with my peers, teachers and anyone that who I came in contact with.

“Patios es apaat a yuh identity, yuh jus hafi akcep ite. Yuh language fi mek yuh hapi!” was an inspirational phrase that Stephen often told me to live by every day and that it will always bring guidance and support.

--Creole is apart of your identity and you just have to accept it. Your language should make you happy!

I often told Steven that he was Dr. Phil’s little prodigy because he is such a smart person who can solve anybody’s problem and make them happier. I am surely a testament to that.

Bethany Carter

“Hablas Español bien. ¿Eres una mastra?”

“No, viví en El Salvador.”

            I look back and forth from the waiter to my mom not understanding what they were saying. Almost every time we went to a restaurant and the waiter spoke Spanish she would have a conversation with them. All the adults sitting at the table looked like they understood every word as the kids waited for the conversation to end so they could be told what was said. When I heard my mom say El Salvador I knew right away that she was explaining how she knows Spanish so well.

            Spanish has always been apart of my mom’s life. The first twelve years of her life she lived in El Salvador because her father, who was a missionary, became the principal of a school there to help it get back on its feet. Her parents made sure she and her brother were immersed into the culture. One of the ways they did this was send them to an all Spanish school. When they came back to the states she was still connected to El Salvador especially because she never lost the language.

            Remembering the language has helped her in many ways. One way it helped her is that when she has gone back to El Salvador or when she went to other Spanish speaking countries she was still able to speak Spanish. This was important because none of the people she visited could not speak English. Language helped my mom connect to her country because without it she would not be able to communicate with people Spanish countries. One way it has helped her is a woman she knows talks in Spanish when she is angry. Most people have to have her repeat what she says in English so they can help her. My mom is able to both understand her and talk to her in Spanish so it is easier for my mom to help her. Being able to communicate is a very important skill. Knowing more then one language helps with communication in a diverse area and helps connect someone to more of the people in that area.

            According to Glona Anzaldúa, “Ethnic identity is twin skin to linguistic identity.” She is saying that what language someone speaks and how they speak it ties in directly to their history, and the history of their of their family. I find this true for my mom because even though my mom has not lived in El Salvador for her entire life she is still ethnically tied to the place. This because she could still connect to El Salvador because when she visited she did not have to stay in the touristy area because she could speak the language.

            Spanish has also been in my life. I cannot speak Spanish beyond what I have learned in school. Still the sound of it has always been familiar because I have heard it all of my life.  

            One of the ways I was introduced to Spanish is that Mama Alba, my first babysitter, spoke only Spanish. My mom though that this would make me learn Spanish at a young age. Unfortunately I spent most of my time with her foster kids who spoke both Spanish and English.  I was also stubborn so once I learn how to say something in English I did not want to relearn it in Spanish.

            My mom wanted me to get at least a little of the experience of her childhood. So my family traveled to El Salvador when I was almost three, Costa Rica when I was five, and Guatemala and Honduras when I was ten. It was not until I was ten that I wanted to do more then just go to different countries; I now also wanted to understand what they said. Unfortunately, since I was older I was never able to learn. I had fun on these trips, but the trip would have been better if I knew Spanish because I could connect to the people there more. 

             Overall, I have learned how much language helps connect people to other countries. Being able to speak with out limitations because of little knowledge helps both parties communicate and u677feel connected. If someone is unable to connect through language then they will never feel apart of that country. The learned language must not be lost for if it is lost then that person can no longer feel like that country is apart of them because what connected them to the country is lost and can not be easily obtained.  

Symone Smith
Gold Stream

The Voice We are Given

I walked into the office with nerves jumping around in my stomach like kids in a bounce house.

“ Are you here to start the scrabble club? Symone right?” He asked.

“ Yes.”  I said.

He walked into the principal’s office assuming that I would follow. The principal met us there and introduced herself. We sat at the table and they began to ask me different questions, the usual questions.

“What school are you from?” the principal asked

“ I am a student at Science Leadership Academy.” I replied

“Oh ok. What grade?”

“ I am a sophomore.”

“ So how are you going to run the club? Do you have supplies or do we have to provide them?”

“ Well, I have to attend an orientation next week. There I will be given all of the details as to how exactly I am to run the club and activities that the kids can do. As for the supplies the company that I am working with will provide them.”

“ Okay, well it seems like there is nothing further we can do until you go to the orientation. So here how about you take my card and you can email me with details, questions, etc.”

 My building contact Mr. Jengo finally chimed in, “Did Avi give you my information?”

I had to think about it for a moment. What did he mean by information? All I had was his email address, nothing more.

“Um, no” I said thinking that he was going to give me something other than his email. He wrote just his email on the back of the card. I felt extremely bad, I felt like I had lied to this guy because I already had his email.

 I left the building and headed for the car. That’s when I began to think, I should have said this and I slightly began to panic because I didn’t know the answers to the questions that they had. They probably thought I was just some high school student that did this because they had to, not because they cared. Plus I probably slurred my words again, I hopped that spit hadn’t flew out of my mouth. Who knows what they were saying about me after I left. I often have these kinds of after thoughts whenever I’m talking to someone important or to a group of people. One thing said wrong could make me sound unintelligent.

In her story about a young girl Maxine Hong Kingston wrote “It was when I found out I had to talk that school became a misery.” The little girl in this story felt different because of the way she spoke. She found it stressful to speak in front of the class. This little girl just wanted to be accepted by her peers rather than be teased by them for the way she spoke, so she didn’t talk at all. I find myself feeling the same way in class or even on important interviews. If I don’t have to talk then I don’t because I’m afraid to say something stupid or that doesn’t make sense. I know people are going to talk about it later either way.  I want to give the best impression I possibly can. But lately I have realized that the impression I have been giving is not the real me, because being quiet just isn’t me. I am a loud but intelligent person and that I need to embrace that while I’m with my friends, in class, or even during interviews.  I should not strive to be something more proper than what I am, using big words and trying to sound more sophisticated. I have been striving to express my ideas in class discussions in a way that sounds profound, to make my voice heard rather than letting it fall to the wayside.  But something that needs to be pounded in my mind is that I don’t have to try so hard to be profound because my way of expressing my thoughts may already seem profound to others and if not that is okay to. I just have to believe in myself and stop worrying about what others think. The interesting thing is there are a lot of people that act the same way, maybe not the same situation I’m in but similar. They act and speak in a way that is not them just to receive the approval of others. A prime example is when kids start at a new school. They want to be accepted by their peers so they start to talk differently and even dress differently.  The truth is you should want people to accept you for who you are not for some front that you put on to impress them.  This is where language and identity fall into play. The way you speak is not necessarily who you really are, your true identity. Rather it could be what you are hiding behind. Even if you’re different and speak differently as long as you are being the real you it is a good thing. 

“Ok kids, this is Tucker Bartholomew. He just moved here from Virginia, and he’ll be joining us next week. Turn around now.”

            I stood in the back of the classroom with my dad and little sister. I stood there rather awkwardly for a seven year old, not really knowing if I should wave, or if I should say something. The teacher, Ms. Gandy, told me to come up to the front. I walked up to the front while my dad and sister waited in the back. I realized that if I didn’t say anything now, it would be considered impolite.

            “Hey ya’ll,” I said. This resulted in fits of giggles that only six and seven year olds can do and get away with. I was a little confused, wondering if my attire was inappropriate seeing as this was a uniformed school. It wasn’t like I was starting school today though so I didn’t get too embarrassed.  

            “Tucker and his family just moved into their apartment up on the west side. Who else here lives on the west side?” Three of the twelve students raised their hands. Zach Whitford, whom I had already met the day before, was one of them. He seemed like a nice kid. He talked pretty fast, however.

            “Ah think Ah met a few already.” More giggles.

            “Now class, what are you laughing at?” asked the teacher. An unusually petite girl named Gabriella Rovalino, answered before anyone one else could.

            “He talks funny.” This brought a repeat of the hearty laughs. This took me aback. I had never thought about the way I talked. Everybody talked like I talked, at least in Virginia. In the next few weeks I discovered that I did in fact speak differently than these New Yorkers. I realized that there is such a thing as accents.

I had always known my grandparents had southern accents. When my grandparents visited us, even in Virginia, sometimes people could not understand them. I became a translator. In the north, no one could understand them. After that, I started noticing more differences. People aren’t friendly; they don’t look at you in the subway, and they especially don’t want you to talk to them for whatever reason.

            I realized at that young age that language could affect opinions. Southerners talk more slowly, like molasses rolling off the tongue in words. People in New York always talked like they had something better to do at that moment. This, of course, is not necessarily true all the time. It’s a stereotype that I established. Stereotypes and their underlying assumptions divide the north and the south. James Baldwin once wrote, “Language, incontestably, reveals the speaker.” This is true in many different settings. People hear the way southerners speak, or they hear the way northerners speak, and they form opinions based on speech whether or not they are true. My future first grade classmates and possibly even my teacher labeled me as “slow” or naïve from my first “hey y’all.”

            I never really knew how to respond. I was too shy to really defend myself, so I ended up not talking as much as I usually did. This is when I first began to realize that the way you speak matters. My ideas of speech have matured over the years to the point where I understand better why it matters. I now understand why my grandparents often feel uncomfortable visiting in city areas. No one likes to be laughed at.

            I’ve never felt largely uncomfortable in a situation where I spoke differently until I went to my Uncle Nub’s funeral in 7^th grade. I had been living in Philly for several years. His name was not actually Nub. It was Curtis. Everyone called him Nub because, as a teenager, he laid his hand on the chopping block and dared his older brother to chop off his finger while the brother was chopping wood. His brother accepted the dare, resulting in the missing end of Uncle Curtis's middle finger. Incidentally, that brother is the one who gave him the nickname, Nub. 

Uncle Curtis was a man of stories and colorful language, so naturally he had many friends. As we were waiting in line for Barbeque before the service, my granddaddy was in line in front of us.  I had not seen him in years so I didn’t really know him or his second wife Helen. The topic of northerners came up when I said something very Philadelphian, and Helen said, “Don’t you ever become a Yankee. Don’t ever become one of them. You remember where you were born.”

            Although the next comment was a discreet comment from my older sister saying, “But also remember where you're being raised Tucker. And that’s the north!”

            This sent me into a whirlpool questions and concerns on how I would define myself. Am I from the south, or am I from the north? Do I adapt my speech to the people around me or do I simply decide not to care what others think? If I were asked where I am now from based on how I speak, I would say the north. I speak like I go to a high school in the north, which I do. I’m glad, however, that I have already gone through this sense of questioning where I’m from. I’m a bit wiser because of the questions that I have wrestled with and the answers I have developed. Realizing at a young age that language does creates opinions forced me to consider who I was and who I wanted to be.

​Speaking on Equal Planes

By: Kam Huds

 

When you look at me in contrast to my parents it’s interesting because you don’t always see a parent and child relationship. Why? Well the main reason would be how we talk to each other. Sitting down stairs in my living room I’ll have conversations with my mom about men, love, sex, and random other things depending on what’s on her mind.

 “You know, marriage is a beautiful thing. Two people come together and are in love.  But you know… love doesn’t last forever. The flame doesn’t burn endless. The fire dies if it’s not fed and kept up by both partners.” I remember my mom telling me that one time. “Well that shouldn’t be hard if they both love each other, right? Then they both should be willing to keep the fire strong.”

            She laughs a little to herself. “You’d think that… But the thing about it is, when the flame gets weak, the relationship strains and sometimes one or both people will lose hope in the relationship. They lose the will to keep trying. Then gradually the relationship shrivels up. The flame dies… People can fall out of love.”

With my dad, we cover all the other things like sports, life, religion, racism, society, how people think. With my dad, I’ve shared some of the most interesting conversations ever. The information I get out of them is precious to me but the thing I love about it the most, the thing I love about talking to both my parents, is that most of the time we speak as equals. We’re not child and parent, we’re two intellectuals having a deep educated conversation.

I guess that after living with them for so long, living with this attitude, I’ve grown to think that all adults should be able to talk to me like this. I learned the hard way otherwise though.

My little sister’s godmother and I would be a good example. Large, loud, opinionated type. She’s very argumentive but more to me than many others. We’ve been in many situations where I’ve challenged her intelligence by saying something that she didn’t understand. Then she’d usually get upset and say something demeaning towards or at me. For a couple years now we’ve been in situations where I hear, or see something, comment on it, and then she challenges me as is me having an opinion is a capitol crime. One time I remember I was talking to my mom about what I would wear if I ever went to prom.

“, And we’ll get you a nice dress to wear for your prom” my mom ended her sentence. “I don’t even know if I want to go to prom. Oh, I saw this cool suit set the last time we were at the mall. It’s black with a mint green vest and tie. If I ever decide to go to prom, that’s what I want to wear. “ My sister’s god mother looks at me and with out fail has something critical to say at me. “Now you know you need to stop being stupid. Wearing a suit to prom. What, do you think you’re a dike now?”

On the inside I’d have a variety of choice words I wanted to reply back with but because I knew she would just argue with me I chose not to respond. Into the silence she comments again to herself yet directed at me. “Always saying something stupid. You don’t need to be talking if all you gonna say dumb stuff.” Angry, offended, and ridiculed are the words I could associate with how I felt at that moment.

When we got home my mom said, “Every time we go over there you say something to upset her. Why don’t you just stop talking when we’re there…” My mother found it kind of humorous that this woman always had something to say to me when I dared to speak. “I have the right to my opinion. If she doesn’t like it, it’s her own fault.” I said back. “Yeah… but is it worth starting an argument over every time we go over there?” Without replying I went upstairs to ask my dad to explain to me why me talking and sharing what I thought was such and issues to my sister’s god mother.

Basically he told me that it’s a matter of dominance and respect. When me and my mother talk on the same level in her eyes, it shows that I don’t respect my mother and that my mother isn’t in control. That reminded me of another time where me and my mother were talking in her house and she interjecting. I was trying to pursued my mom to let me go to best friend Jennifer’s house and we were in the process of bargaining because that’s how me and my mother work. If I want to do something and she wants otherwise we find a compromise.

“Why you bargaining with that child? Are you the mother? Look, she said she don’t want you to go so you can’t go. End of story. You need to stop playing game with her Rosemary. And you don’t need to go see that girl anyway. You always want to go over her house, what are you two? Lesbians?” my sister’s godmother barks at us. I noticed that as a pattern she liked to attack my intelligence and gender.

Remembering that scene rose a follow up question for my dad. “So is it like a lack of maturity or is she like too narrow minded?” my dad laughed a little. “It’s a bit of both.”

That struck a chord with me, this realization that adults can be very immature and narrow minded. They get set in their ways and then are too stubborn to talk change upon. I could never have a real conversation with adults like that because everything I would say would be wrong. As James Baldwin would say, “Language, incontestably, reveals the speaker.” In relation to all this, this quote means that if adults like my sister’s god mother took the time to actually listen and process my words, my language, they would see that I’m an intellectual. They would see that my voice was just as defined and meaningful as theirs. They would see that my voice was capable of speaking on equal planes. 

Sam Lovett-Perkins

1-5-10

My Language BM2

Happily Gay

 

            “Your such a fag just buy the damn shirt!”

            “Ehh but it doesn’t fit me, the v-necks too low.”

            “Fine you’re a picky princess, but at least buy the yellow one then.”

            “Oh come on honey you look just fine.”

 

            As I hang clothes, I can hear the playful loud high-pitched voices of what I assume to be two gay guys shopping. They look to be my age, maybe sixteen and seventeen, possibly on a date. Quietly I start to ease drop on what they’re saying and buying and while judging them in my mind. One slips on a yellow cardigan, in my mind I want to join them and say, “Oh no honey, that is not for you,” but I quietly watch behind two racks of shirts in slight discomfort because they don’t see how bad it looks.

            “Nah this isn’t for me either, come on lets go out to dinner”

            The two take a couple of other shirts downstairs to the counter and leave behind the yellow fabric on the floor. I walk over and pick it up looking at it, then I place it on a hanger on the rack.

            As I was sitting on the train on my way home later that night, I thought about the two guys. The idea of two gay guys out in public not attempting to hide their sexuality perplexes me. Having the courage to be loud and proud about ones sexuality is something I always think about but never have the will to do. I suppose I’m scared that others would judge me like I did, not just on their choice of clothing but the way they speak.

            I could never see myself as being flamboyant enough to call another by princess or honey. It’s just something that bothers me. In school I hear my friends call people gay or a flame because we assume their gay, and although they are my friends, I can’t allow myself to speak as openly as those two gay teens did for the fear of being judged. I watch what I say so that my language won’t be recognized as “gay language”.  Although there are some parts I’m good at hiding, there are others that are much harder. It’s a stereotype that gay men are very dramatic; this is something that I have difficulty hiding. Sometimes I don’t even notice it, but when I do, I become embarrassed. In my mind being quiet, and cool is straighter and is more likely to be accepted.

            Finally in their conversation what really made me think of was the one word that I don’t say, fag. When I hear someone that I don’t categorize as gay say it, I feel animosity towards him or her. I feel that’s its not their word to say, and I do take it personally. I feel the need to respond and defend myself, but I don’t. I restrict my language to hide what people would judge me on. However my opinion changes when I hear a gay person say it. I feel respect toward him/her when I see that they are proud of who they are. Similar to how African Americans use nigger, and refer to it as their word, fag is our word. When I say it, it changes how I feel. It is a medium through which I release my anger. In my language that word is forbidden because it hurts. It hurts me to hear it because it’s a sign of disrespect to me.  When I speak to them there language doesn’t respect me so my language won’t respect them.

            I am not ashamed of my sexuality, but I am not confident. Desperately I want to be who I am to the world and not have to hide the gay part of me. Mike Rose described how I want to feel in I Just Wanna be Average by writing ,“Rely on your own good sense. Fuck this bullshit, bullshit, of course is everything you- and the others- fear is beyond you”. I feel like this quote gives me strength because it reminds me to not care about anyone else’s opinion. If someone or a friend doesn’t like me because I’m gay, I seem gay, or because I sound gay, that is not my fault. What they believe is beyond me and it is not my duty to change their minds. My good sense tells me to be who I am, so that is what I aspire to be. Although I am still hiding part of myself right now I am slowly making my way to freedom. The quote also mentions others, meaning more than one, in my case, other gay people. This quote aspires me to help others struggling with their sexualities. It is not my job to change the minds of those who do not agree. Want I can do however is to use my language and my words to help strengthen others, so that they can be  proud of who they are.

            The language I speak is the language I use to try to please everyone, to seem natural and what society wants. However I use it to hide my true self, my true language would speak openly without fear of being accepted. When I speak “straight.” I’m speaking a language that pleases me but is not free of the fear of being accepted. One day I aim to be open and speak my own language. Not the language of others.